Practicing the zither is no simpler than practicing the sword, in some ways it's even more tormenting.
Those subtle notes are the most fragile things Pei Ye has ever seen; a slight slip of the fingertip can cause them to veer off.
And none of the notes stand alone; they hold hands in a delicate sequence, where a single stumble can send the whole ensemble into dangerous tremors.
Fortunately, perhaps women are the most patient teachers in the world, as she shows no excess reaction to Pei Ye's repeated mistakes, calmly correcting them time and again, whether ten times or thirty, until a tune finally stumbles out from his hands.
Although still not quite listenable, it certainly reveals a standard prototype, from flowing errors to intermittent correctness.
Pei Ye exhales deeply, wipes the sweat off his forehead, and as she said, he only needs to practice daily from now on.
