When Langdi woke up again, he was still on the bed that had been transformed into an operating table.
He couldn't feel his body, as if he was floating in the air, and an inexplicable feeling of happiness lingered in his brain. Although there is no pain, the feeling of nihilistic happiness is extremely confusing and unpleasant.
"Mandala?"
Wolf Flute murmured in a low voice: "Father, was the amount you injected into me a little too large?"
"At least you are still sane and can speak." In the candlelight, the priest, who was chanting with his head lowered, looked back at him. "You were not as complete as you are now when you were brought back. In order to prevent you from dying of pain, I took the inventory All the mandalas are gone.”
"It's really hard work, but is this level of surgery really something that an ordinary priest should be able to do? And ordinary churches shouldn't have surgical instruments and so many medicines..."
The priest ignored him.
Langdi raised his head with difficulty and saw the dense surgical sutures on his chest. He sighed softly: "Since I am still alive, does it mean that the rainmaker is dead?"
"Isn't he right next to you?"
The priest's words made Langdi stunned. He turned his head to the other side, couldn't help but screamed, and almost rolled out of bed.
Right next to his pillow, there was a large glass vessel.
A shriveled, deformed corpse was soaked in the pungent antiseptic liquid.
It seemed as if all the water had been squeezed out, and the mutilated body was bent and stooped, like a large baby. But no baby is as scary as this devil.
"You don't need to retaliate against me like this, right? Father."
Langdi made a grimace: "Are you a headhunter? How did you turn him into this?"
"It became like this after he died." The priest reached out and took the bottle away, pretending to throw it away: "It seems that I am being pretentious. If you don't need it, I can throw it away."
"I was wrong! Please show your respect. Although this thing is ugly, you can still get a lot of money from the Musicians Guild."
Wolf Flute twisted his mouth and begged for mercy, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, and looked extremely idiotic: "Otherwise, my instrument can't be repaired, and those dead goblins in the Cavendish Laboratory can't even see the money. No one will let me in."
The priest lowered his head and stared at the remains in the bottle, and suddenly asked: "Isn't the funding you promised the child included in it?"
“…”
Langdi was stunned for a moment: "You know everything?"
"When you were talking last night, I was outside listening."
"...Since when?"
"From the very beginning, until you said, 'In order to compensate for the dangers he encounters as a bait, you are willing to help him learn to be a musician.'"
"Aren't you curious about whether he agreed?"
The priest looked at him again, as if he were an idiot, and said nothing.
"Okay, he agreed."
Langdi was helpless: "If it weren't for him this time, maybe I would really die."
The priest shook his head: "With that wolf king who can control the ether, you may not lose."
"Thanks to what the teacher gave me, and thanks to his foresight, I was able to bluff the rainmaker. But I didn't expect that the result would be a heavy price."
"Being alive is better than anything else. You should rest first."
Father Ben stood up as if about to leave. After a moment of silence, he said softly: "There will be a carriage taking you away the day after tomorrow. I will take you to pick up that thing tomorrow. It... is well preserved. I hope you can Use it well.”
He gave Wolf Flute one last look, left the room, and closed the door.
In the silence, there is only the silent wolf whistle.
After a long time, he scratched his head and sighed softly:
"As long as that thing is used, it will never be called 'proper', right?"
…
…
Ye Qingxuan had another dream. He dreamed of the distant past, but it was not similar to what he remembered.
It was like someone's fantasy, and with the sound of rain, I came to my own dream.
He was once again on the streets of Avalon, bustling with traffic.
…
The familiar sound of the piano came from nowhere. It was the sound that echoed in my ears since I was ignorant. They were like palms, leading him deeper into his dream.
In the surging crowd, he saw the man carrying the piano case. He looked very young, so he must have been there many years ago.
His robes fluttered in the wind, flying like a crane.
The long silver-white hair was not tied into a hairpin like most Asians, but was simply tied up with a hairband, which looked weird and simple.
"... So the old men in the Holy City call me 'Yue Yin', probably because they think I am an expert in dealing with cultists. But no matter how you look at it, my son is a bit more genius than me, right?"
The man looked down at his son, who was just staring curiously at the surrounding scenery, looking here and there. The child's face was so familiar that it gave Ye Qingxuan a headache, but he couldn't remember who it was.
Ye Qingxuan stood in the crowd, staring at it, confused and confused.
"Dad, I want that..."
The child stretched out his hand and pointed at the balloon in the pedestrian's hand.
"Okay, okay, daddy will buy it for you secretly, don't tell mommy, okay?"
The man carrying the piano case was teasing his child and passed by Ye Qingxuan, who was bewildered.
He turned around and saw the carefree eyes of the child in the man's arms.
In the surging crowd, the child looked back at him, and the moment of eye contact seemed to open something up. That look made Ye Qingxuan stagger back and fall to the ground, as if his whole body had been hollowed out.
That kid looked like his old self.
But have I ever been so happy
He wanted to laugh.
…
The ubiquitous sound of the piano came again, making the surging crowds on the street freeze. The wind blew up from the end of the dreamland, poured down from the sky, and submerged and blew the city away.
Ye Qingxuan struggled painfully in the wind, swaying unsteadily.
At his fingertips, the string ring returned to shining strings, pulling him deeper into the wind tunnel.
He is floating in the wind.
"Yi Zi, have you ever dreamed?"
The man carrying the piano case asked softly in his ear. Ye Qingxuan looked around blankly and heard a childish voice answer on his behalf: "Are they the things that happen after falling asleep?"
"Maybe, but there are dreams when you're awake."
The man carrying the piano case laughed in a low voice. His voice was soft and low, like the clear echo of the collision of jade:
"A sleeping dream can be forgotten as soon as you wake up, but when the awake person falls asleep, it will continue to continue, continuing in your dream... The whole world becomes like a beautiful dream, how wonderful it is, right?"
Ye Qingxuan froze. He turned around and saw the man carrying the piano case. The pain he didn't know came from made him bend down. He held his head and felt bursts of pain.
"This world is a nightmare, Father!"
He roared hoarsely: "It's because of you that it became like this... Can you still regard it as a sweet dream? Mom is dead... Mom is dead because of you!"
The oriental man was stunned, as if he finally remembered, staring at him with vague eyes, complicated and sad.
The sound of the piano that continued like silk was interrupted for a moment, as if a sharp blade had cut the silk, cut it open, and left a mess everywhere.
The wind stopped, the dust disappeared, the sun went out, the earth was broken, and everything collapsed.
Darkness enveloped everything, and he fell into the abyss.
But the broken sound of the piano was like a hand, holding him tightly.
The dreamland changes drastically, sometimes like a flooded city, sometimes into a collapsing castle, sometimes into a raging sea, with dense jungles growing on the seawater, and neon lights shining at the end of the sky.
The next moment, they changed again and dimmed.
Endless fog rose, drowning everything.
…
The sound of the piano sounded again.
Like the moon singing, like clouds in the sky.
Ye Qingxuan walked in the fog, looking blankly for the direction where the sound of the piano was coming. The rugged mountain road under his feet gradually climbed up, extending to higher places, becoming increasingly narrow and difficult to navigate.
The turbulent fog enveloped him, as if countless eyes were watching quietly, making him feel that he was not alone in walking such a road.
He walked on the mountain road, moving forward, forward, forward... until there was no way to go.
The next step is the abyss.
The sound of the piano came from the end of the sky, broken yet firm, as if calling him to come. Ye Qingxuan stared at the mist stretched out quietly and took a step forward.
The abyss did not swallow him, because the invisible sound of the piano held him up. He stepped on the wind and moved forward, faster and faster.
Sometimes he looked around and stared at the dancing clouds. In the vast sea of mist and clouds, only the scattered light of stars swam, like fish in the mist. The light passed by him and disappeared.
As a result, his mind calmed down and he no longer felt anxious.
Then, the sea of clouds parted in front of him. Layers of fog and thick clouds retreated to both sides, revealing a sky full of night, and above the sky, stars shone.
In front of the road to the sea of clouds, a bright moon rises silently, shining in the direction of the end.
In the gentle and quiet sound of the piano, countless rays of light leaped up from the sea of stars, fell, and rose into the sky again. The ethereal melody lingers in the sea of clouds between heaven and earth, turning into little bits of bright light.
In the moonlight, he saw the man waiting quietly.
The man stood far away, out of reach, and Ye Qingxuan couldn't catch up with him. While staring in silence, he saw Ye Qingxuan's shadow, then he smiled and waved gently.
But when he waved his hand, his body moved and blurred, as if it was about to disappear.
"How is it?" He looked at the boy: "Is this a good dream?"
"Is this also your trick? Father."
Ye Qingxuan stared at him: "But I don't think it's beautiful, I'm afraid of it."
"Yi Zi, this is your past dream, you just remember it again."
"I've forgotten."
Ye Qingxuan looked away, not wanting to look again.
"Things that have been forgotten will not appear here."
The man in the moonlight said softly: "Things that cannot be forgotten will be painful, but this is your dream, how can you forget it?"
Ye Qingxuan was stunned. He looked around at this dream, looking at the sea of clouds and moonlight, but suddenly felt confused and sad.
"Then... what should I do?"
In the silence, the man smiled, like moonlight.
"Aren't you going forward?"
He said: "Just like now, you are not floating arrogantly to the sky, nor are you falling downwards because of pain. You are moving forward, straight forward. Nothing in this world can stop you from moving forward. No matter what Leading to heaven or hell, all the way to the end of dreams..."
The young man looked at the pair of black eyes that were the same as his own. There seemed to be a thousand words in those eyes, but he couldn't explain them clearly.
"So, don't forget, Ye Zi."
In the moonlight, he stared at the young man, sighing as if he was sad and complicated. Gradually, he melted into the moonlight, and only the sound of the wind brought the final whisper:
"I'll be there for you."