50 The Moon Above the Ocean (1/2)

The moment the string was plucked, all sound muted.

The silver haze suddenly joined together and swept into a frenzy. But the aether’s glow disappeared, only leaving behind the sparse notes from the instrument.

Hidden behind the beautiful music was a sharp and sonorous breath. Like an unsheathed blade, it scraped and hummed, gradually revealing its murderous intent.

Within the sparse notes, weak ripples spread from Ye Qingxuan’s fingertips, extending in all directions.

Everything in its path dimmed. Flames snuffed, fresh blood lost its color, and darkness turned into a muted gray. Everything looked unchanged, but something seemed to be dragging them further and further away.

Mist was born from the sky then scattered. It wasn’t thick—it was thin and unnoticeable until it fully enveloped the space. Like a breath in winter air, it dissipated.

A vague chill rose, seeping into every open crevice.

Her body could still feel the heat left behind by the fire, but all her senses began to feel icy.

Hariti turned pale. Reflexively, she tried to step back, but her foot stopped mid-step. The nonexistent coldness had already seeped into her brain, freezing her thoughts and consciousness. Finally, she stood stunned in the white mist, her mind frozen in shock and terror.

In this cold mist, everything came to a standstill.

--

In the dancing white mist, there was only the sound of the zither.

Soon, the spattering of notes changed, turning into a continuous melody. The true overture had finally begun.

In the silence, the zither suddenly produced a harmonized crispness and heaviness. Burning decisive thoughts appeared, and were hammered into everyone’s hearts.

The notes reverberated through the air, shapeless and intangible, but powerful and awe-inspiring. In its path, all ghosts and demons were crushed by the majestic yet cold air.

This was not physical interaction. It was purely resonance between souls.

The music was sparse, but destroyed every evil spirit. The resentment harbored in the aether was easily crushed too. Resentment, dissatisfaction, and poisonous thoughts were nothing in the face of the music.

Like a sand castle before a tsunami, it collapsed like a joke.

Ping!

The strong and persistent will solidified into a blade. Blended into the music, it swept in all directions, slicing apart the formless ghosts, trembling and frozen in the white mist.

All that was left were white bones scattered on the ground.

The remaining resentment spilled out, crashing toward Hariti’s fragile mind like a tidal wave!

Her rheumy eyes bugged open.

On her ancient body, Tiryagoni’s music notes were pushed to their brink, like a rag frozen on an iceberg.

Quickly, the crazed resentment pulled on her, swallowing her last bit of consciousness.

--

It was as if she was thrown into a bottomless pit.

She could not see, could not hear, could not smell, could not feel…

The cruel zither tore her perception away bit by bit, until all that was left was a stooped soul, falling hopelessly down the into the abyss.

Falling, endlessly falling, falling for eternity.

An unprecedented loneliness engulfed her thoughts. She wailed, but she was not even sure if she could make a sound. Then she saw moonlight jump from the abyss.

Cemented in the seemingly eternal loneliness, everything lost its meaning. Even living became a long nightmare.

With time at a standstill in the abyss, the nightmares seemed to last forever. It would trap her for thousands upon thousands of years. But this feeling only lasted a moment, and ended before she could react.

After that, Hariti was still standing in her original position, unmoving.

Boom!

The noise of a firecracker thrown into a ditch sounded.

It came from inside her skull, as if some delicate and soft membrane had cracked open. Black blood ran from the corners of her eyes, nose, and ears.

She was finally freed from that nightmare.