232 Night on Bald Mountain (1/2)

”Hey, kid, wake up!” In his sleep, Ye Qingxuan felt someone slapping his face. Drowsily, he opened his eyes with difficulty and saw Hermes’s vague features.

”How much is this?” Hermes raised some fingers.

”Three.”

Hermes seemed to nod and asked, ”What is forty-four times six plus fifty-two divided by two?” Ye Qingxuan was a bit dazed. ”Seems like your logical thinking hasn’t recovered. What about your sense of time?” Hermes asked again, ”What time is it?”

Ye Qingxuan looked past his shoulder and up at the sky. ”From the sun, I think it’s afternoon?”

”Hey, this is Jianlan Underground Palace! How is there a sun?” Hermes lit a string of incense and swept it past the youth’s nose. ”The ritual was successful but your mind hasn’t recovered yet. Go to sleep.”

”No, I clearly saw…” An extreme urge of sleep attacked Ye Qingxuan. His vision went black and he fell asleep once again.

In his dream, he saw a blazing sun in the sky. There was also a moon hiding below the horizon, radiating pale white and blue light. The moon seemed to be murmuring to him but it was too far away, and Ye Qingxuan could not hear clearly.

He saw the sun fall closer and closer to the horizon as the moonlight rose inch by inch. In the end, the sun and moon shone for a short period at the two ends of the sky. Their radiance fell upon the youth like the pupils of gods.

Ye Qingxuan finally clearly heard the phrase they repeated endlessly in his ear. It was a murmur from ancient times, the truth carved into stone.

Ye Qingxuan woke from the dream at that moment.

He did not know when he had been lifted out of the Cave of Sleep and into the resting room of the library. The room was empty and completely still. He thought back carefully, but felt that only a few ridiculous scenes remained in his mind.

He could not remember anything else.

Just as he was sifting through his memories, he touched the heavy stone in his hands. The stone was icy cold with a metallic feeling. The wedge-shaped words jolted his memory of the blazing sun and moonlight murmuring in his ear from his dream.

They said, ”As if you are above, as if you are below, as if all is beginning.”

The youth caressed the runes on the surface and finally understood what the wedge-shaped text was. They were not simple words; they were music theory precise to the extreme. They were the result of research and evolution using the School of Modifications as the starting point and the Creator as the proposition.

It used the process of alchemy as an analogy for music theory and created a new categorization for all organisms’ physical substance. In addition, it suggested an incomplete but reliable tree diagram, allowing one to trace all organisms to their source and beginning of all...if the diagram was complete, of course.

If alchemists could understand this, they would definitely be overjoyed and use all their fortune in exchange for it, but to Ye Qingxuan, it was useless. However, though Ye Qingxuan did not dabble in the School of Modifications, he felt as if a new world had opened up and the music theory in his mind had changed with this knowledge.

When he looked, he could practically sense the source of all. He was clearly sitting inside the room, but he seemed to be able to feel the radiance of the gradually setting sun. Was this a hallucination?

”Don’t space out,” an ancient voice suddenly said. ”Being slow is a musician’s mortal enemy.”

Instantly, a wind with a bloody scent blew past. Ye Qingxuan started rolling on the ground without thinking. Then there was a giant explosion and a large hole appeared on the ground.

Right where he had been standing, a strange metallic creature with long and thin limbs appeared. It seemed to be ripped apart by someone’s bare hands; its body was skinned and replaced with a layer of rusting bronze. A bone face mask seemed to grow out of its flesh. There were three eyes on the mask—two on the left and one on the right. There were small dots on the rheumy yellow pupils, like the compound eyes of an insect.

”A stray?” Ye Qingxuan felt a chill go down his spine. Why was there a low-level Satanic demon here?

But there was no time for him to think. With a scream, the stray pounced at him. The limbs with a metallic luster cut through the air and yelled terrifyingly. Ye Qingxuan stumbled back and felt its sharp nails sweep past his eyes. His previously unfeeling eyes suddenly felt something cold brush past.

With no time for hesitation, Ye Qingxuan quickly tightened his fingers as if he was squeezing something. The Jiu Xiao Huan Pei on his forefinger flashed dimly. Amidst the sound of crystal multiplying, the instrument strings sprouted out of thin air. Then, out of Ye Qingxuan’s expectations, it changed abruptly and transformed into the unstable apparition of an instrument in midair.

After swallowing all that spirit, Jiu Xiao Huan Pei’s own spirit had recovered a bit. It could now change its appearance to suit the music score’s requirements.