“Some would call that unethical,” Wang Jun noted.
“Is it unethical if it helps them?” the headmistress said. “Cultivation is addicting, and so is making money. So is tea, I suppose, if everything I’ve heard of your expensive habit is true.”
“You’ve got me there,” Wang Jun said. “I can’t say I treat my customers any differently. They keep coming if I do well by them, and they leave if I don’t. If only that were enough.” He stopped himself as he realized he’d said too much.
“If only it were enough,” she said, echoing both his words and his feelings. “I find myself thinking the same thing every day. We might seem like we’re doing well, but we could be doing so much better. My sisters and I have to hustle every day to pitch clients and close deals, but it’s so difficult to find people who appreciate what we sell.”
“Which is?” Wang Jun asked.
“Inspiration,” the headmistress said. “Clarity of mind. The heart is a fragile thing that’s only too easy to break.”
Wang Jun felt a hint of discomfort, but the headmistress caught it and quirked an eyebrow. “Interesting. I never expected the illustrious Wang Jun to have suffered heartbreak.”
“Not the broken but the breaker, I’m afraid,” Wang Jun said. “I’ll spare you the boring details.”
“I can imagine,” the headmistress said. “You’re the rich young master of the Wang family, but your situation is far from stable. I take it you fell in love but realized your mistake. She was in danger, so you let her go. You knew it was the right decision, but she didn’t understand. It was her sadness that broke you.”
Wang Jun raised an eyebrow. “Have you been spying on me?”
“Lucky guess,” the headmistress said, sighing. “You aren’t the only one to have experienced such a situation. Now, where was I? Value. As you know, we sell information. But our most valuable service is inspiration, and it’s something your brother isn’t buying now. I know you’re not doing too well, but I’m sure you can see how new ideas and a productivity boost for your many businesses could come in handy. For the right price, of course. And if you pay well enough, we could even do the opposite for your competitors. Covertly, of course.”
“It’s something I’d consider,” Wang Jun said. He paused as the audience quieted and the lights dimmed. A red curtain opened, revealing a beauty and her zither. He heard a soft pluck, and his mind went empty. An entire day of stress and gloom flew away like a bird given wings.
“Her performance is amazing, isn’t it?” the headmistress whispered. “Just a few notes are enough to calm the most restless hearts. It’s difficult to put down your worries when so much rests on your shoulders. But you can do it for a few moments, can’t you?”
Her words didn’t distract from the performance but synchronized with it. He let his awareness drift toward the stage, where a cold winter was just ending. Everything was frozen and without life. But a few seconds later, a new note sounded: the chirping of a bird.
“It’s easy to feel like you’ve lost everything, but life isn’t steady. It’s cyclical, like the seasons.”
A bird flew down and landed on a branch as the snow melted. It pecked at newly exposed grass to find scattered seeds as it waited for the remainder to disappear. “The winter can be long and devastating, but if you survive, summer will always come.”
The music continued, and the melting snow became a stream, and as the last of it disappeared, spring winds blew and trees began growing leaves. Flowers sprouted across the increasingly lively landscape where the local wildlife began to awaken.
“Take this bird. It builds a nest and lays eggs that soon hatch. Not all of them survive, but that hardly matters. Spring turns to summer, and the birds flourish. Two birds become six, and with enough winters, these two birds might well make thousands. But for every lucky couple, there are many that didn’t make it.”
These many winters flashed before his eyes, and he saw few birds become many. He saw the same for rabbits, foxes, deer, and wolves.
“Some animals must change instead. Their personal success is dependent on successfully changing. Those who don’t change don’t survive.”
He saw thousands of caterpillars erupt on trees. Birds scrambled to devour them, but there were too many. Trees died, but the caterpillars flourished. Those who ate enough made cocoons, and soon the land was covered in beautiful butterflies.
“These two ways are how normal animals flourish,” the headmistress said. “But some animals are like humans. They change their environment to survive and thrive.”
The scenery changed to that of a river. A pair of beavers worked hard to cut down trees, drag them into the river, and build a dam. They weren’t safe in the river, so they changed it. The river soon became a small lake thanks to the dam, and the beavers thrived in their artificial sanctuary.
“You have three paths ahead of you. Which will you choose?” The lights faded, and Wang Jun heard the last note of the song he’d barely heard. He felt unusually calm, yet at the same time, excited. It was like a fire was burning in his heart while an icy shell kept it from being damaged. And with it came inexplicable anxiety. His mind raced as he thought of various possibilities he could barely register.
“My apologies,” Wang Jun said. “The concert’s effect is much more exaggerated than I’d expected.”
The headmistress smiled. “It’s always that way on your first time. Subsequent experiences are bound to be disappointing.”
He blushed at her play on words.
“Make sure you go home and rest,” she said. “You can’t think properly with so many ideas, and the sleeping mind is best for dreaming. Tomorrow could be the most important day of your life. Don’t waste it.”
Wang Jun nodded. Then, frazzled, he wandered down the steps, ignoring the red dust as he
