Chapter 194

Chapter 194: Chapter 192: "See You in the Next World"—You Shisan, Jin Yuan. You have good fortune—your future is bright, joyful, and peaceful,"

the diviner at the small stall said with a smile. He wore a frightening robe, and his gesture of tapping the young man’s shoulders who stood in front of his stall meant a blessing in Ming Hui.

The rain poured down rapidly, hitting the propped-up canopy and creating a crisp "pitter-patter" sound.

With an umbrella in hand, the young man placed Silver Coin on the diviner’s table.

Standing by his side, a girl with tea-colored curly hair was waiting.

"You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?" The diviner, cheerful upon seeing the Silver Coin, casually suggested, "Why not visit the central square? There’s an Awakening ceremony going on, and everyone is overjoyed."

"Aren’t you going?" Su Ming’an asked.

"Eh, why should I? I’m content with life as it is; I don’t want to be an Ability user and shorten my life." The vendor shook his head, "I’ve heard those Ability users rarely live past fifty, especially the stronger ones. If I happen to have good talent, I might just drop dead here in a few days, and I still want to go home and hold my child."

Su Ming’an remained silent.

"—However, I never expected those nobles to look like that, and it’s all thanks to that Continent Sage Master." the vendor sighed, "I used to hate them to the extreme, yet never thought these people would die before us ..."

Su Ming’an sighed, then, pulling Feya along, left the stall.

Raindrops scattered across the surface of the umbrella, creating an isolated world beneath it.

Through the curtain of rain, everything was unclear, except for the silent flat buildings and a towering high tower on the edge of the town, standing guard like a watchman at night.

Su Ming’an looked up at the grand Glazed Tower before him, its gemstones sparkling on the tower’s surface, shimmering even under the heavy clouds.

It seemed in the depths of the dark, a shining high tower stood erect like a deity descending from the sky, reaching out to those sunk in the mire.

On the square, bursts of blood-red light flared.

Feya reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"How is it?" she asked, "Feeling a bit more relaxed?"

Just moments earlier, after getting a white cat from smashing eggs, Su Ming’an had fallen into a brief shutdown, preparing to go to the lab to donate blood as usual, when Feya caught up with him.

Feya said she knew his spirit was not well lately, and she had a way to ease it.

"You don’t need any spiritual relaxation or any extra potions," Feya softly said, "You’re just too exhausted lately, and this kind of fatigue can’t even be resolved by sleep... let alone noticing that you haven’t slept at all these past few days."

"Is it that obvious?"

"You don’t even look in the System Mirror to see how bad your complexion is."

Su Ming’an accordingly pulled up the mirror and saw again a face critically hit with handsomeness. Since Qin Wang’s complexion had been poor from the start, looking ever ready to collapse, even if Feya said he now looked very bad, he couldn’t see it.

... because it had always been bad.

Su Ming’an put away the System Mirror: "But isn’t spending a day on leisure too much of a waste of time?"

Instance Time was just fifteen days, and he had planned to continue taking Hui Shuhang to the nearby forest to kill Demon Beasts today, he hadn’t expected Feya to intercept him midway, insisting on taking him out to relax for the day.

"It’s necessary," Feya shook her head, "This type of fatigue can’t be alleviated except through relaxation. You cannot mold yourself into a machine that only chases tasks... You must understand, a person remains sovereign over themselves due to subjective agency, freely managing their affairs to be truly called an independent individual. Losing that, mechanical fatigue becomes commonplace."

"Moreover..." she said, "You can’t always be in an extreme state of mind, as it’s not conducive to routine tasks. Exploring clues, fighting enemies... These actions all require energy, and if you’re always spacey, you will miss a lot."

Su Ming’an thought about it for a while, finding the last part of Feya’s words quite sensible.

He did as she suggested and followed her; she seemed to have planned the itinerary carefully. After receiving the so-called diviner’s novel Divination, she took him to a restaurant in the town.

Steaming hot food was served.

He took a fork and tasted a piece of the uniquely flavored roasted meat that Hui Shuhang had once mentioned, then his expression turned to one of agony.

The taste of the roasted meat didn’t come close to the buffet barbecue he had eaten in Zhai Xing. In the Otherworld, with its extremely low productivity, its preparation was crude, even the salt was colorful, and the taste carried a strange bitterness. The other main dishes were the same, with bread similar to baguettes feeling like sand clumped together, as hard as chewing rocks, with none of the soft texture. Some soups were so sweet it was sickening, making it completely unpalatable.

As for the lemon wine, he hadn’t dared touch it, but Feya mentioned it tasted like lemon water mixed with alcohol.

...The so-called Otherworld cuisine seemed to be just that.

After taking a sip of the bitter and astringent tea and watching the inferior plant material resembling tea leaves floating about in his cup, Su Ming’an suddenly realized how precious the tea Hui Shuhang brewed for him was in the eyes of ordinary people.

At least, it didn’t make him wonder, "What in the world is this?" It was similar to the taste of black tea he had drunk before on Zhai Xing.

To the people of Ming Hui, perhaps that black tea, which seemed so ordinary to him, was already the best tea.

Because their staple food consisted of things that, in Su Ming’an’s eyes, were hard to swallow.

While he struggled to eat, Feya seemed quite accustomed to it; she ate naturally and wasn’t choked by the strange food. Watching him, a smile even flashed across her face.

Su Ming’an put down his fork—it was so rough it chafed his hand.

He looked out the window at the torrential rain, where people with umbrellas moved through the curtain of rain, their footsteps mingling into a shallow, flowing river on the ground.

The horizon was embroidered with ice-cold specks of starlight, the blue-purple magnificence painting a brilliant starry river across the sky.

He turned his head and looked at the girl with pure eyes; she was watching him as if a very strong emotion was already staining her long-held demeanor, ready to burst forth at any moment.

"Why are you looking at me?" Feya said with a smile.

"These nineteen years, have you gotten used to them?" Su Ming’an asked her.

"Pretty good." Feya lowered her head, holding her knife and fork, cutting into the tough piece of meat, "This time, I learned to paint, especially oil painting. I’m really good at painting sunflowers. I’ll bring you one of my paintings when I have time."

The knife and fork made a harsh grating sound on the plate as she cut through the fibrous meat, appearing to be channeling her focus into it.

"You also learned oil painting."

"Yes, and there’s an instrument called the wire-strung harp," she raised her fork, seemingly showing off, "Qin Wang taught me before. It’s much like a seven-string zither but sounds very clear. When I was traveling around the nearby cities, I saw many wandering minstrels using this type of harp to accompany themselves while reciting the psalms they wrote... it sounds really pleasant."

As she spoke, she took out an instrument resembling a seven-string zither from the space ring on her finger, and with a light pluck, a sound like falling jade beads vibrated, the beautiful tone like a fleeting rainbow before his eyes.

The dining guests nearby seemed to notice, wearing simple hemp clothing; while no one approached the clearly distinguished Feya, their attention shifted towards them, including waiters who were passing by.

"Before he fell asleep, Qin Wang taught me a piece... I’m rather slow, I couldn’t learn much, just kept practicing this one piece over and over, fearful that I would forget it if I stopped," Feya said as she looked at him, her eyes glazing over like a thin layer of morning frost, "It’s called... ’Scenery,’ he wrote it himself. Would you like to hear me play it?"

Su Ming’an nodded.

Suddenly, a crisp sound arose.

The girl with tea-colored curls, her delicate, slender fingers moved over the thin strings. Her eyelids half-drooped, all emotions harbored within her light gaze; as she plucked the strings, a stream-like melody slowly flowed with the movement of her fingers.

Her softly curled hair gently swayed with her movements, her fair face bathed in the light under the dim stone lamp, gradually becoming almost transparent.

The sky hung low, the raindrops pattered.

It was like a fine stream of water, the natural sound of the wind blowing through the leaves, the distant mountains on sunny days, the swaying of bamboo leaves. It was like the clear fresh air rising after the rain.

The music revealed precisely such a fresh and natural scent, like a beautiful painting slowly unfolding before his eyes.

The bustling waiters lightened their actions, and the chattering people halted their voices; they seemed reluctant to break such a serene and profound melody and listened intently, their eyes filled with amazement.

And in Feya’s melody, Su Ming’an felt peace.

...A long-missed peace.

It was like fatigue receding and pressure sharply reducing; the melody indeed had a soothing effect. It seemed to possess a magical power, awakening in people ancient memories about the feelings expressed in the music, making thoughts that had gradually solidified and settled become vivid again.

Through her melody, Su Ming’an seemed to see a lively, lush scene. Grass growing, flowers blooming, icebergs melting, snow receding, the sound of springs tinkling, and rivers crossing over stones and mountainsides, unobstructed, rushing towards the banks like wind chasing freedom.

"Freedom."

Su Ming’an had thought that Qin Wang, growing up in a luxurious noble setting under immense pressure, should not have such a deep love for the rarely seen nature.

But within the music, he grasped its meaning.

Across the crisscrossed roads, the traveler journeyed far.

Before dusk, flowers nearly wilted freely blossomed.

Above the sea shattered by daylight, a raft floated unsteadily.

Bamboo leaves fluttered finely, distant mountains were shrouded in mist. And everything in this world thrived conspicuously.

...The piece embodied the joy of spring’s revival of all things.

It represented the boundless longing of a great man who died before dawn for the future fading of winter.

He was expressing, through his music, hope beyond an inevitable end.

People believed—winter snow would melt, and the future would be brilliant.

The flowing music abruptly stopped.

Feya’s fingers paused on the harp, her bright eyes looking at him, the piece had ended.

"Clap, clap clap clap..."

The applause burst forth.

All those listening couldn’t help but clap, even the roughest men who knew nothing of music could sense a hint of revival from this vibrant piece.

In the actual scene of revival today, it was even more fitting.

As if composed specifically for the beautiful future of today.

"...Who wrote this piece? It’s really well written."

"The young girl played it well too, much better than those poets who wander around!"

"It’s actually a piece I’ve never heard before, I really want to remember it... It feels really special..."

People openly expressed their admiration and praise.

In such a world, emotions were extremely direct, because people had long understood that if one merely conceals their emotions, they might never get to truly express them.

Thus, when they heard a piece that truly moved them, their outbursts of praise were incredibly strong.

Su Ming’an raised his hand, starting to clap.

"It’s beautiful," he said, "The piece is beautiful... and so was your playing."

Feya packed up her harp, gave a gentle smile to those praising her, then looked back at him.

"I thought I could practice it more, but I didn’t expect you to come so soon," she said with a laugh, her smile pure and as vibrant as the lively leaves in the piece: "In the school instance, I learned sketching and mastered swordsmanship, in this world, I learned oil painting and playing the harp... I’m still looking forward to what the next world will be like. I kind of want to learn the piano... I remember when you played it for me on Zhai Xing, you played beautifully... I was thinking then, if only I had time to learn the piano, and now I really do have so much time."

"Yes, the world is vast, full of landscapes, all wonderful," Su Ming’an said: "You still have many worlds to explore."

"But since you’re here, I’m about to leave this world, head to the next one," Feya said: "Having stayed here so many years, it does feel a bit hard to let go."

"If the world game ends, maybe I can teach you the piano," Su Ming’an suddenly said: "By then, we should both have plenty of time."

Feya looked at him, her gaze slowly becoming hazy.

She seemed to have experienced a thousand sailings, yet also seemed as pure as if newly born.

As if condensing clarity, when the light slowly solidified in her eyes, they shone with the transparency and brilliance of diamonds.

"There will be such a day," she said: "Seeing you so tired today, I realize you seem to be growing more exhausted, world after world... your tiredness is constantly accumulating. So now, I just want to remind you of one thing."

"—’Many people toil endlessly just to build a high tower, but few ask why we need to build this tower?’" she looked at him, her gaze pure: "I hope on this path, I can always remind you of the reason."

"So, see you in the next world?" Su Ming’an picked up his cup.

"Sure, until next time." Feya reached out and clinked her glass against his.

The clinking of the glasses was crisp.

The liquid shimmered like flowing gold under the light, and as he drank, he saw her eyes sparkling brightly.

Her clever, moist eyes lightly glided over his face; while looking at him, her lips naturally curved up into a mischievous, lively smile, like that of a noble’s cat.

She was no longer that girl submerged in the painful throes of domestic abuse, pulling on his sleeve as if clutching at redemption, doomed to remain forever in a dark mire if he were to leave, unable to struggle free.

Having seen many landscapes, she now gazed upon an immensely vast world.

She was now colorful.

She was now shining.

While looking at her, radiant like a diamond, and casually drinking from his glass, Su Ming’an belatedly realized something.

... This liquid, it seemed, was not water but lemon liquor.

He held up his glass and then slowly set it down.

The next moment, all his senses vanished at once.

Falling straight onto the table in front of him, he made a huge noise.

The people nearby watched this scene in astonishment, looking at the tea-colored curly-haired girl, who stood up, gently placing her hand on his shoulder.

In Ming Hui, this gesture meant a blessing.

"See you in the next world."

She smiled, withdrew her hand, and turned around.

Outside, the storm was gradually stopping.

Above the sky, a clear brilliance slowly bloomed.

The darkness receded like the tide, and brilliant light bathed the entire street. It was as if the deities in the heavens were pouring a dazzling path of light onto the mortal world.

The girl stepping out of the restaurant lifted her head, her fair cheeks bathed in the stable curtain of light, seeming as if she could now see the profound universe and starry skies.

A girl in intricate Lolita attire slowly walked up to her side and bowed.

"Thank you for your help in Ming Hui." Hui Shuhang spoke softly, his tone solemn, as if chanting a psalm: "Miss Feya—bless you, no matter which world you are in, you all are truly the ’Future.’

Feya turned her head, her eyes twinkling like stars.

"If you really want to thank me, let him have a good dream," she said. "I hope not to see him again looking like he’d rather sleep right where he is."

"Understood." Hui Shuhang nodded, then suddenly spoke again: "Additionally..."

Feya looked at him.

"Could we possibly have Qin Wang’s music pieces..."

The zither and sheet music were stuffed into Hui Shuhang’s hands.

"I can’t take these with me, so I’ll leave them to you," Feya said with a smile. "Remember, it was I who brought this future."

Hui Shuhang looked at her, then slowly nodded.

She looked at the sheet music in her hands, her eyes reflecting nostalgia, her eyes gradually reddening.

She closed her eyes, clutched the zither tightly, as if to imbue it with warmth, as if to integrate it into her very bones and blood.