No one can escape this trial.
The second, third, and fourth notes slowly joined the score, becoming part of a lody.
The performance continued, and death was unfolding.
Destruction signifies rebirth.
An official was found brutally murdered at ho, with a ’letter of opinion’ addressed to the Life Daylight Supervision Agency left on the table.
So politicians were turned into musical notes, and the young girl who fell victim to his cruelty was barely clothed, looking in horror at the dead man before her. She scread loudly, but no security outside the door responded; they were all painted onto the wall, forever becoming the indelible paint on it.
Those deeply aware of their heavy sins learned that their forr associates were being killed one by one, kneeling on the ground to confess their cris to an unknown presence. As they straightened up, the world had already started spinning.
A banker who deceived students into taking ’Creation Drawing Seedlings’ loan sches until they were driven to suicide, while he profited imnsely, was found dead on the street.
Those who heavily promoted ’Bubble Apartnt’, causing countless young people to be deeply hard and to bear debts they could never repay in their lives, turned into dull, lifeless sculptures.
Tens of kiloters away, the Minister of Food Safety anxiously awaited the ’Heart’s Desire’ train, cold sweat dripping from his brow. He was the main culprit of the ’118 Piano Key District Child Food Poisoning’ incident.
He simply repackaged toxic food polluted with heavy tals as high-nutrition ’eco-food’ and sold it at low prices to the unsuspecting headmasters of foster hos, leading to the direct or indirect deaths of 136 children.
Alongside him stood many remnants of the Belvedere Faction, who, for their interests or political struggles, had all more or less stained their hands with the blood of the innocent.
Similarly, they had all watched that broadcast, sensing impending doom from the shadows. They abandoned their wives or husbands, used connections to obtain train tickets, and gathered here hoping to flee the city.
The train arrived at the station.
The mont their eyes lit up, punishnt descended. One of them disintegrated on the spot, and the people accompanying him scread, scrambling to board the train.
An invisible force crushed the entire train into scrap tal, and all these politicians died instantly just before the train was to start.
...
Above the theater, hundreds and thousands of notes flowed on the score, refined from people’s souls. Seen from below, they resembled fish struggling, screaming, and wailing, swimming in this pale, decadent ocean, collectively playing a mournful and solemn tune with their pain. The spectacular scene deeply shocked all the spectators present.
Finally, it was ti for the more innocent ordinary people.
— "Look at the people you’ve saved, their ignorant eyes, their numb looks."
— "They won’t understand you, let alone appreciate your actions."
— "You’re not a Savior, just a devil with countless lives stained on your hands."
— "What’s the point of doing all this? They won’t stand up and speak for you."
— "People will hate you, fear you!"
— "Destroy, wipe out everything in this world!"
The girl was deeply trapped in a chaotic mind from which she couldn’t extricate herself, and various chaotic murmurs continuously bewitched her, turning into sharp spikes piercing through her body, extracting her consciousness. The scattered mories of countless lives in the Ice and Snow World mixed with the storm, swaying her body, constantly falling onto her face and flooding into her mind.
Tang Xin wept with sorrow.
She saw those faces filled with fear and anxiety, heard the words of accusation and scolding directed at her, saw countless venomous gazes condensing in the cold, dark void, constantly piercing through her chest, making it hard for her to breathe, willingly sinking deeper into the chaotic thoughts.
What was she doing?
Did she hurt innocent people?
No...
No more hurting people.
Especially not the important ones to her.
Seizing a one-in-a-million mont, Tang Xin slowly raised the Conductor’s String Sword in her hand, Xu Xiaoyou stood silently watching it all occur.
In the eyes of countless people filled with horror.
The Conductor’s String Sword pressed against her neck, the wind gently entangling the ssy strands of hair by her lips, Tang Xin’s eyes reflecting a blue full moon. It seed as if she was crying, or laughing, an uncertain mix of grievance or regret sketched out by a broken arc.
The wind fell silent, with people’s heartfelt concerns gazing at the sky. The girl, like plucking a string on a cello, pulled with all her might!
Blood splattered through the sky.
...
The beginning of mory was a hazy beach.
The waves pushed crystal-clear shells onto the sand, shattering into white foam against the rocks on the shore, as the cries of the seabirds faded away, and the sound of the retreating tide lingered in the ears.
Tang Xin opened her eyes in bewildernt, her body at this mont was incredibly light, no longer in pain, no longer sad. The peaceful sea breeze of the night gently lifted the white gauze skirt of the girl, and she consciously held her skirt, smoothing the loose strands of hair around her ears, bending down to pick up a shell.
The surroundings transford as she picked up the shell, and she saw a bright classroom, sunlight gently stroking the children’s desks through the gaps in the leaves.
Intermingled with the sound of reading were laughter and playfulness, as she walked into this little world, watching the children chase and ss around, running in the warm light.
Not realizing it, she approached the desk of a little girl in the corner, with sky-blue long hair, a dusty little face, a band-aid on her cheek, sitting with her head down, lost in thought.
Savina’s na lingered in Tang Xin’s throat, and she realized somberly that this wasn’t Savina, but herself.
More precisely, it was her as a child.
No wonder everything was so familiar yet strange.
As a child, she couldn’t see the brilliant and vibrant world.
She looked at that small figure holding tightly onto the box of crayons, staring at her desk, distinctly out of place against the backdrop of kids chasing around her, giving off a vibe of... stubbornness?
She had heard many people call her stubborn before. It was not until she saw her past self that she fully understood how perfectly ’stubborn’ applied to her back then.
At this mont, the sound of children’s taunting laughter suddenly reached her ears.
"Look everyone, at what Sevia has drawn."
Children nearby crowded over, and Tang Xin noticed a painting on the girl’s desk. In the painting, a bird flew in the vast blue sky, gripping a branch, drifting aimlessly across the broad heavens.
"The colors are all wrong, how could there be birds with blue wings? Aren’t the birds in the Morning Star picture book all supposed to have red wings?"
"Exactly, exactly, how could a bird carry a branch over the sea, can’t even tell what it’s supposed to an."
Tang Xin looked dazedly at the painting, wondering what she was thinking about at the ti when she drew this little bird?
Listening to the words around her, the little girl did not rebut, simply holding her crayons silently in place, unmoved, as the children’s mocking echoed in her ears. Yet, it was as if she hadn’t heard a thing, absorbed in her own world.
Blue-eared Fairy Bluebird, Blue-and-gold Macaw, Black-naped Monarch, White-browed Blue Flycatcher, Little Kingfisher—any of which she could have easily nad with blue wings to refute the other children, but she chose not to.
She just stubbornly sat with her crayon box.
"Sevia, did you draw this picture? It’s beautiful. Can you tell the teacher where this bird is flying to?" The female toddler teacher noticed the situation and ca over, crouching in front of the girl, speaking softly.
The little girl still did not respond.
"See, this little monster is mute, always staying alone, who knows what crazy things are in her mind, best not play with her."
"Exactly!"
"Monster, little monster, just like her monster mom, all monsters."
At hearing the word ’mom’ ntioned twice, the little girl tightened her grip on her crayon box significantly, only slightly easing when the toddler teacher, frowning, shooed away the surrounding children.
Tang Xin didn’t quite understand. Clearly, just by responding and speaking her mind, she wouldn’t be bullied by the other kids. Why didn’t she choose to do so?
Lost in thought, she heard the little girl softly say, "My na is not Sevia."
Before the toddler teacher could react, the little girl had already rushed out of the classroom with her crayon box. Tang Xin hesitated, instinctively following, and after an uncertain amount of ti, the little girl stopped in the hallway, turning to face Tang Xin.
In the bright light, Tang Xin could not see the expression on her face, only vaguely discern the movents of the little girl’s mouth.
"You, co with ."
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