Disturbed by recent events, Wang Yun found himself unable to rest as the night deepened. The bright moon illuminated his courtyard, prompting him to walk through the grounds, lost in thought. Gazing at the sky from beside a peony bush, tears welled in his eyes. Suddenly, he heard a sigh nearby. Someone was lamenting near the peony flowers. Wang Yun slowed his steps and approached quietly, only to discover it was his singing and dancing girl, Diao Chan. He had brought her into his home years ago and taught her music and dance. Now sixteen, she possessed a beauty and talent that Wang Yun cherished as if she were his own daughter.
After listening to her sorrowful sighs for a while, Wang Yun gently asked, “My dear, why do you sigh so deeply? Are you troubled by something?” Diao Chan, startled, knelt before him. “How could I, your humble servant, harbor such personal thoughts?” she replied. Wang Yun pressed on, “If that is not the case, then why are you out here sighing in the deep of the night?” Diao Chan then asked, “If you would listen to the words held within this young heart, would you grant me your ear, esteemed sir?” Wang Yun responded, “Of course! Speak freely and without reservation!”
Diao Chan continued, “Your kindness in raising me, teaching me the arts, and treating me like your own daughter is a debt I can never repay, no matter how hard I strive. Seeing the deep worry etched on your brow, I surmised that the court must face grave concerns. However, I dared not inquire. Tonight, witnessing your profound distress and hearing your sighs, I could not help but sigh myself. I never imagined you would notice me. If you have a task for me, I would gladly face death ten thousand times over.”
Wang Yun, deeply moved, struck the ground with his walking stick. “You are right! The fate of the Han Dynasty may indeed rest in
