*Zzzzt.*
*Zzzzzt.*
The faint, low hum of the connection cable touching the speaker interface was brief but palpable.
The spotlight turned on, focusing on the petite figure sitting on the high stool of the small stage.
Lin Mu hugged her Martin acoustic guitar, its natural wood finish gleaming under the light. She closed her eyes slightly and took a deep breath—
A deep breath.
Then,
She smiled softly at Su Ling, who was sitting on the sofa in front of her, watching intently, and placed her hands over the soundhole of the guitar.
Another deep breath.
The strings rang out.
The expensive wooden guitar played the imprint of memories.
The original melody, paired with her soft, almost whispering vocals, immediately caught the attention of someone upstairs.
They couldn’t type another word on their keyboard.
**[One-Sided Thoughts]:**
"I know I’m terrible, so terrible that I dare not compare myself to others."
"I also know I’m delusional, once foolishly hoping to step into your dreams."
"I feel like a sinner behind glass, no longer able to understand you."
"But every word you’ve ever said to me, I’ve never forgotten."
"If, by chance, we meet again someday,
Will the pain I caused you be forgiven?"
"……"
Lu Qing listened.
Listened to the little brat downstairs singing.
It was the first time he had heard her sing up close.
The first time he had heard her play this original song on the guitar.
Unlike when she played bass covers, this song was arranged solely for the guitar, giving the entire piece a quiet, melancholic feel.
The melody was intricate, the harmonies sophisticated, and the chorus carried an undercurrent of emotion.
"Those days are gone forever."
"It’s a faint, paint-like feeling."
"The more you mix it, the muddier it becomes."
"If we could start over on a blank canvas,
Could we paint those clear, transparent days again?"
"……"
Lu Qing was visibly moved.
Downstairs, Su Ling furrowed her brows.
Lin Mu’s song had two versions: the lyrics were originally in Chinese, but she later asked Sister Gao Ban to translate them into Japanese to give it a more narrative, anime-like feel, making it easier to arrange in a J-pop style for future productions.
This time, for the convenience of her two listeners, she sang the Chinese version.
Although Lin Mu’s vocal technique wasn’t on par with professional singers—lacking polish and relying entirely on raw emotion—
Her feelings, poured into this original song, were overwhelmingly intense.
What she conveyed was a mix of regret, nostalgia, longing, and entanglement—a complex, delicate emotion, as if her heart were being torn in two.
Like a startled bird, like a timid kitten that had been hurt before.
It struck straight to the soul, no need for overthinking.
Even though Su Ling wasn’t the intended recipient of the song, she could still sense the deep feelings Lin Mu held for her brother.
"Singing, singing, singing alone in the quiet of the night."
"Leaning on the guitar, talking to myself, turning my heart’s words into a diary."
"The rain will stop, the clouds will clear, and if music can convey emotions,"
"She will surely tell you, 'I’m waiting for you.'"
"……"
The variations in the melody, paired with a high-pitched guitar solo, released the emotions bottled up in Lin Mu’s chest.
Her eyes closed, her fingers moved instinctively, guided only by her ears as she played the notes she wanted to hear.
The melody, ingrained in her DNA, had been practiced countless times. At this moment, she shone brightly on stage.
What seemed like practice was more like a performance.
In Lu Qing’s mind, "performing" and "practicing" were two entirely different concepts.
The former was about conveying complete emotions in the most perfect state, while the latter was about refining the method of conveying those emotions, even in an imperfect state.
Not far away, Lin Mu—once a rebellious little brat, and before that, a cautious junior who had timidly approached him—had, without him realizing, grown into someone like this.
Her emotions felt tangible, like a wall pushing toward him.
A solid delivery, a complete experience.
All the years of waiting, longing, the words she wanted to say but couldn’t—not even daring to write them in her diary or essays—
At this moment, they all poured out.
In front of him, a seemingly distant listener, she laid everything bare, holding nothing back.
Perhaps, in her eyes, he was still just a "stranger who knows a bit about music"?
**[Was it only in front of someone like this that she could release all the emotions hidden within her small frame, performing the secrets she dared not share with others?]**
…
…
She sang without restraint.
She immersed herself without distraction.
She wasn’t practicing.
She was enjoying the music.
—Enjoying the "sound of music."
"This is nice."
Lu Qing was deeply moved by her emotions.
Sometimes, words felt inadequate.
Compared to music, they seemed harsh and distorted.
What couldn’t be conveyed in words, she conveyed through emotion.
Her delicate yet powerful emotions, even to someone as numb as him,
Could still stir a faint ripple on the otherwise still surface of the sea.
He couldn’t remember how the rest of the time passed.
All he could recall was that he had planned to spend this late-autumn Saturday perfecting the opening of his new work, revising and polishing it over 20 times until it was ready to submit to Yaoguang.
But in reality,
The half-finished document contained only 500 words of non-main content.
**[Another thing I can’t remember happened today.]**
**[When I open my eyes tomorrow, will I even remember you?]**
**[The days feel like a dream, adrift and rootless, leaving me terrified and overwhelmed.]**
**[The faces of people on the streets are gradually becoming unfamiliar, and my place in this world has long since disappeared.]**
**[If the world I see through the window wants to reject me, then I’ll embark on one final journey, drifting, drifting, toward the direction my heart has chosen.]**
—"Responding to the emotions I’ve received through lyrics."
But it wasn’t a full response, more of a "creative reaction" triggered by what he had felt.
The musician within him, long dormant, was stirring, its blood boiling and burning with a long-suppressed desire.
He wasn’t without "great desires."
If Tang Hua’s "great desire" was "someone’s physical body," and Bai Xing’s was "mutual attachment,"
Then his own "great desire" was something he had always wanted to touch but didn’t dare to, something he wanted to unravel but knew would lead to irreversible consequences—
**"That seal."**
Although.
His sister had caught a glimpse of it.
Although.
Su Ling seemed to be trying to "loosen" it.
Although.
Today, Lin Mu, in her own way, had made that seal tremble, on the verge of collapsing.
"But not yet."
"Not yet."
"No."
"Absolutely not."
Lu Qing closed his laptop, muttering to himself like a madman.
The memories in between were completely blank.
All he could recall was standing at the entrance of "Twilight Coffee" at the end of the day,
Holding his sister’s hand,
And leaving a final remark for the little brat behind him:
"Oi, your song today was really good."
……
……
e school belle recognized by the whole school, a genius girl from the kendo club. She also has a hidden identity, the youngest legendary demon hunter. Chen Shuo just transmigrated and found himself turned into a weak, helpless little vampire. He was caught by Su Xiyen and taken home at the very beginning. Since then, Chen Shuo's life creed only had two items. "First, classmate Su Xiyen is always right." "Second, if classmate Su Xiyen is wrong, please refer back to item one." Many years later, Chen Shuo, who had turned back into a human, led a pair of twins to appear in front of all the vampires to share the secret of how he turned back into a human. "It's simple, I tricked a female demon hunter into becoming my wife!"
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
