As she spoke, Yang Su took a fond glance at the gold ring in the broken bowl, then slightly lifted her coarse cloth attire, reaching beneath her heavy bosom and around her side to pull out a wooden Qiang flute, nodding to the two of them.
After a brief pause, she found the melody, puffed up her cheeks, and began to play.
"Whoo... woo woo~"
She was playing an unknown ballad, with a distinct rhythm where vibratos and auxiliary notes alternated in cycles,
Accompanied by breathing and the movements of playing, a kind of melancholy unique to the Qiang flute, or perhaps a somewhat heroic sound akin to a bugle, emerged and spread across the bridge, quickly buried by the falling heavy snow.
Why does the Qiang flute lament the willow?
The spring breeze does not pass Yumen Pass...
She indeed wasn't lying; there was a certain musical talent hidden within her.
