Chapter 856.20: The Musician
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Chen Huaian picked up that page of the torn scroll.
He discovered it was the sa as before, with only faint, indistinct characters. If you really tried to look closely, you couldn't make them out clearly.
All his actions were under Bi Yue Wu's watchful gaze.
This was unavoidable. The torn scroll had appeared, and there was no way to hide it from Bi Yue Wu. He simply beca even less inclined to conceal it. If Bi Yue Wu saw it, so be it. To Bi Yue Wu, this torn scroll was just a worthless scrap of blank paper.
"What a pity about the other Immortal Elder." Chen Huaian sighed, appearing genuinely regretful. "The palaces within these floating peaks are quite strange and exceptionally dangerous. To think an elder who was already an Immortal still t such a tragic end... It shows the one who created these floating peaks must also be an extrely powerful Immortal."
Bi Yue Wu stared coldly at Chen Huaian.
This was all useless talk. Did this re mortal cultivator need to point out the obvious?
He stretched out a hand towards Chen Huaian. "Hand it over!"
Chen Huaian didn't hesitate at all, directly handing the just-acquired torn scroll to Bi Yue Wu.
Bi Yue Wu took the scroll, turning it over and examining it repeatedly.
It was still just a piece of scrap paper.
"What do you want with this scrap paper?" He raised an eyebrow, staring at Chen Huaian.
"I'm just soone who likes collecting old, ancient things. This torn scroll was found within this ancient site. Even if it has nothing on it, I still want to keep it."
"Hah, as a family heirloom?"
"You could think of it that way."
Bi Yue Wu fell silent for a few seconds before tossing the torn scroll back to Chen Huaian.
Chen Huaian smiled, casually beckoning with his hand, and the scroll returned to his grasp.
Now he was completely certain that Bi Yue Wu simply couldn't see the faint, flickering characters on the torn scroll.
However, Bi Yue Wu was definitely not a fool. He must have already grown suspicious by now.
But it didn't matter.
This Underground Palace had no intention of welcoming Immortals like Bi Yue Wu.
Even if Bi Yue Wu obtained all the torn scrolls, it would be aningless.
These were ultimately his.
...
The previous trial of the Ten Suns Hanging in the Sky was probably the test.
This ti, beneath the iron-chain bridge was only a chaotic void, no longer the strange magma from before.
At the end of the iron chains, the clouds and mist dispersed.
The third floating peak hung quietly in the void.
There was no intense heat like before, nor biting cold winds.
Here, there was only stillness.
Absolute, dead silence.
Even the sound of the group's footsteps on the stone steps seed to be swallowed by this space, not a single echo could be heard.
"Brother Chen, sothing's wrong!"
Zhang Yibai opened his mouth to speak.
But he was horrified to discover that no matter how his throat vibrated, not a single syllable could be produced.
This was a domain of silence.
Sound was forbidden.
Chen Huaian turned back and nodded to Zhang Yibai, gesturing for everyone to follow his steps.
Pushing open the heavy palace doors.
What t their eyes was a desolate, withered great hall.
The hall was filled with countless broken musical instrunts.
A qin with snapped strings, a shattered se, rusted bianzhong bells, dust-covered paixiao panpipes...
They were piled together haphazardly, like a graveyard of instrunts.
And in the center of the hall, a stone statue of an emaciated old man sat cross-legged.
Across his knees lay an ancient jiaowei qin, only half remaining.
Chen Huaian slowly stepped forward.
Only when he got closer could he clearly see the tragic state of the stone statue.
The old man's face was gaunt and refined, yet his expression revealed a trace of desperate ferocity.
His ears were brutally pierced by two thick bronze nails, driving straight into his brain.
His hands had all ten fingers broken off, leaving only bare palms, pressing desperately onto the long-gone strings. His posture was frenzied, as if playing a final, silent masterpiece.
The Blind Musician — Shi Kuang.
Chen Huaian stopped.
The suffocating dead silence in the air began to ripple.
Golden characters, weeping and lanting, appeared on the broken qin.
[All n seek heavenly music.]
[Little do they know, heavenly music is a cage.]
[The gods do not wield swords, the gods only whisper.]
[The wind's sound is a command, the rain's sound is a lock, the heartbeat is a rhythm forcibly imposed upon n by the gods.]
[The gods use 'perfect' lodies to weave laws, alter perceptions, and ta all living beings.]
[Those who comply prosper, those who defy perish?]
[Hah...]
[I pierced my own ears deaf, only to not hear the gods' commands; I severed my ten fingers, only to not play decadent tunes.]
[Those who co after, rember this.]
[Divine music is the rule.]
[Do not listen. Do not comply.]
[Only extre 'chaos' and 'defiance' can shatter that perfect cage!]
The characters stopped abruptly at this point.
Boom—!
Without any warning.
The dead silence shattered.
A sound arose.
It wasn't a piercing noise, nor a terrifying roar.
It was... perfection.
An indescribable, supre, perfect lody.
It was as if the Great Dao itself was roaring, as if truth itself was singing.
Before this lody, Chen Huaian felt himself as insignificant as dust, as ugly as mud.
Comply.
Kneel.
Dissolve into this perfect movent, beco part of the order of heaven and earth.
Thump.
A dull sound ca from behind.
It was Wang Shouyi, whose will was the weakest, who had knelt down.
A fascinated, blissful smile hung on his face, but his eyes were empty and vacant. Then his hands slowly rose, gripping his own throat, squeezing with increasing force.
He clearly felt suffocation, yet he still smiled, the veins on the back of his hands bulging.
Gu Changsheng wept bitterly, crying and laughing hysterically. He suddenly pulled out a dagger from his robes. His hand trembled as he positioned it over his chest, seemingly wanting to cut it open to see if his heartbeat conford to this perfect rhythm. But a sliver of remaining reason still held on, preventing him from plunging the blade in.
Even Zhang Yibai's eyes began to glaze over.
The sword in his hand clattered to the ground, his knees slightly bending.
This was annihilation at the spiritual level.
The gods need not lift a finger.
The gods only need to make you feel that your very existence is an "error."
Chen Huaian was still standing.
His gaze was cold and sharp, fixed on Shi Kuang's statue.
"Perfection?"
A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of Chen Huaian's mouth.
To stay conscious, he had to bite the tip of his tongue, simultaneously circulating the Green Lotus Sword Manual.
Hum—! A violent Sword Intent surged from his body like a fla.
The ground around him cracked inch by inch, leaving a dense crisscross of sword marks.
Chen Huaian stepped towards Shi Kuang's statue.
With each step, the pressure bearing down on him increased.
By the ti he drew near, each step left a deep footprint in the ground.
This was Shi Kuang simulating for him everything he had faced back then.
The pressure Chen Huaian faced now was perhaps not even one ten-thousandth of what Shi Kuang had faced.
Yet even so, his limbs had already begun to tremble.
In his mind flashed the final scene from Shi Kuang's mory — the old man, facing that indescribable existence in the clouds, snapped all the strings of his qin, using his life to play a sound... a noise that existed outside the pentatonic scale and the twelve pitches!
"Since you want order..."
Chen Huaian suddenly turned, his gaze falling upon the long-rusted bronze bianzhong bells in the corner of the hall.
He rested his hand on his sword hilt but did not draw it.
Instead, he directly grabbed a heavy stone stool by his feet, mustering all his strength, even channeling a asure of rage. There was no technique, only pure, violent—
Smashing!
Clang—!!! A dull, coarse, even sowhat shrill and off-key loud noise suddenly exploded within this pristine, perfect movent.
It was like a drop of ink falling into clear water.
Like a rusty saw grating against fine porcelain.
A crack instantly appeared in that perfect lody.
"Ah—!!"
From the depths of the clouds, what seed like an angry shriek seed to echo.
"Break for This Venerable One!"
Chen Huaian roared, lifting the stone stool again, smashing it madly against everything around him.
Smashing the broken qin, shattering the paixiao, destroying every instrunt representing "music."
Crash, clatter—!
The piercing sounds of shattering, dull thuds of impact, the screech of twisting tal, all mixed together, forming an extrely unpleasant, extrely chaotic storm of noise.
But this noise... was freedom.
Pfft!
Wang Shouyi suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood, clarity returning to his eyes. He released his throat in terror, gasping for air.
The dagger fell from Gu Changsheng's hand, his whole body collapsing to the ground, drenched in cold sweat.
Zhang Yibai jolted awake, barely managing to stand steady by leaning against a pillar, his eyes filled with lingering fear.
That perfect lody completely collapsed and dissipated within the chaotic noise created by Chen Huaian.
The great hall returned to dead silence.
Only Chen Huaian's heavy, ragged breaths were clearly audible.
Crack.
In the center of the hall, Shi Kuang's stone statue slowly cracked open.
A scroll of torn scripture, its edges charred black, floated quietly above the shattered palm of the statue.
Chen Huaian stepped forward, reached out, took the torn scripture, and tucked it into his robes.
He didn't speak, only bowed deeply towards the pile of shattered stone fragnts.
...
At the entrance to the great hall.
Bi Yue Wu watched this scene quietly.
He had not been attacked by that music.
He hadn't even stepped into the hall.
Although he couldn't see what was happening inside, he could sense it.
That mont just now, that Heavenly Dao pressure that even he found heart-palpitating... was actually shattered by this mortal... with a stone?
"...This child."
Bi Yue Wu's voice was hoarse, carrying a trace of barely perceptible chill. "Cannot be allowed to live."
"But, we must not rush!"
Bi Yue Wu's eyes twisted slightly.
A completely unfamiliar voice issued from his mouth, yet he seed utterly unaware. A sinister, venomous smile rely curled at the corner of his lips. Though his face was covered in blood and gri, it only made him appear more ferocious.
"The road is long."
"Let him explore."
"When he has obtained all the things..."
"This Venerable One will make him understand what true... Divine Immortal thods really are."
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