Chapter 47: Flute and Chess Pieces

After Yiran said that he had some personal matters to take care of and planned to stay overnight at Wangshu Inn, Xingqiu and Chongyun said goodbye and followed Xiangling to leave first.

The inn is quiet and peaceful late at night. People sleep soundly in their rooms. The dense branches and leaves sway gently in the moonlight, taking in the coolness and warmth from the sky.

Yiran bit the hair tie gently, gathered all the white hair in his hand, then took the hair tie and tied it up gently. He moved his wrist, opened the door, and walked towards the stands.

The night breeze was cool but a little hurried. The surrounding scenery reflected a soft light under the protection of the moonlight, but the fields in the distance were still too dim to be seen clearly.

There was no one around. Yiran put his hand on the railing. In an instant, the railing gradually turned into a transparent water color along with his hand. Only his body remained there with a frame. He smoothly passed through the obstacle and stepped one foot in the air.

The water condensed from the air, clustering around the soles of his feet, appearing again and again as he took steps into the distance, and disappearing like mist after his steps left.

Dihua Island.

Xiao dragged the Ibis, walking slowly along the river bank, feeling a little tired. Perhaps the karma accumulated over thousands of years was almost full and could not be accumulated anymore. Coupled with the stimulation of the strong evil aura yesterday, he felt that the mental backlash after he cleaned up some miscellaneous fish was getting more and more serious.

The tip of the gun left a deep scratch on the soil. It was as if countless versions of myself wearing Nuo masks appeared before my eyes. They surrounded me, disappeared and reappeared. I could hear cold echoes in my ears:

You are no longer the invincible Great Sage who conquers demons, nor are you the Yaksha who can follow the guidance of the contract and protect Liyue.

——Look, who is in front of you, the tip of your gun is pointing at?

Xiao woke up suddenly, and fear and shock appeared in his golden beast pupils. Ever since he established a contract with the Emperor, his Hepu Ion had only been pointed at all kinds of evil spirits. But now, what his spear was facing was just an illusion of himself wearing a Nuo mask, created by the inner demon.

What am I afraid of...?

What on earth have I become...? ?

Xiao had a horrible look on his face. He lowered his head, tensed the tendons of his left hand, and formed it into a claw, pressing it against his own face, with low, hoarse roars gradually emanating from his throat.

The other hand still tightly grasped his own Iris, as if if he really collapsed, he would immediately start a battle against himself without hesitation.

Dark green with a hint of black karma spread around his cheeks, more and more, more and more, and the iris that his fingers were holding was being gripped tighter and tighter...

Until those golden pupils were almost cracked with tears, and the fingertips were almost rubbed with blood marks by the metal gun handle.

The immortal who had endured retribution for a thousand years was finally tormented by the pain and almost lost his mind. His legs gradually bent, and he half-knelt on the ground, trembling. The tip of the gun was almost slowly leaning towards his heart...

Just like the Yaksha companions who once screamed and threatening to kill themselves.

at the same time.

A beautiful flute sound swept across the green water and mountains, and was blown by the free wind towards the young man lying on the ground beside the reeds. The shimmering wind lingered around his hands, gradually resonating with the Eye of God on his wrist.

The sound of the flute echoed faintly in Xiao's ears, soothing his pain bit by bit, and allowing him to regain a bit of his sanity without knowing when.

The mind seemed to save itself and swam in the sea of ​​his memories for the first time. Finally, it accurately grasped the extremely profound dream that was created by Pudding and had not yet been worn out.

Memories started from the thousands of families in Liyue, connected to the mortals and immortals who cared about him one by one... the emperor who saved him from the massacre, and connected to the Yaksha companions who had been with him happily...

Using death to escape responsibility and get rid of pain has always been a blasphemy to Xiao. That is the fate of every Yaksha. Xiao is never afraid of death, but he will never give up his life easily.

If he pointed the spear at himself, it was either because he considered his life a bargaining chip in a desperate situation, or because he was simply afraid that he would eventually degenerate into a demon, bring disaster to all living things, and break the agreement with the Emperor.

From the moment the sound of the flute soothed his pain and brought him back to consciousness, Xiao subconsciously put down the gun in his hand, although he didn't know when his end would come.

But at least... he doesn't have to burn himself out in the choice between self-destruction and responsibility.

Unexpectedly, about ten seconds after the flute sound brought by the wind, a misty fog brought another flute sound.

It drifted slowly with the wind, cooler and more fleeting in comparison, carrying with it water vapor, and rising in harmony in the gap between the previous flute sounds.

The sound of the flute blown by the wind seemed to stop for a moment, but soon resumed its smooth flow.

The two flute sounds have completely different styles, yet they somehow resonate and entwine with each other, harmonious and moving, like a polyphonic music with ups and downs, independent yet overlapping, one like a choir church hymn, the other like a shepherd's hum by the river, elaborating on each other's understanding of music, and together expressing their gentle kindness to a young boy.

Yiran stood in the center of the small bridge by the river, playing the familiar bamboo flute softly in his hand, his misty blue eyes occasionally opening and staring out of focus at the gurgling water passing by.

In order to snipe as many wandering demons as possible before rushing over, his white hair was neatly tied up and fluttered backwards in the wind.

All emotions and attention were integrated into the sound of the flute and the control of the elemental force after the rules were changed.

Yiran did not move for a long time, letting the mist float along the river to Xiao's surroundings. Together with the sound of the flute, it gently enveloped him, and then eroded back bit by bit, eliminating all the karma that had erupted.

Perhaps it was because the sounds of the wind and water flutes were endowed with the blessing of the elements, Xiao recovered his consciousness exceptionally quickly, the flute sounds in his ears became clearer and clearer, his body completely relaxed, he lay on the ground, blinking in confusion.

The sound of the flute continued for a very long time, so long that the insects chirped back and forth several times and countless birds flew up and down.

In a trance, he was aware of the daybreak, and dewdrops dripped onto his face from the grass tips. He raised his hand to hold back the mist that had been surrounding him but was gradually dissipating.

The last time someone was able to help him like this was one of the seven rulers of the world, but this time...

Xiao slowly lowered his arms, closed his eyes, felt the end of the tune, and vaguely guessed the owner of the flute sound and the mist.

But...leaving aside the gods of the neighboring countries, he is just an immortal, how could his mist be able to do what the other two rulers couldn't do and completely eliminate the karma accumulated from thousands of years of killing that he had unleashed?

Xiao thought about it... and finally decided to give up thinking about things that he couldn't understand when he was tired.

…

On the rocks near the downstream of the river, Wendy put down the flute in her hand, picked up the apple wine beside her, shook the bottle gently, and a smile appeared on the corner of her mouth.

At the moment when the other flute sounded, he was somewhat surprised, but when the music was intertwined, he could undoubtedly confirm the other party's identity from the tacit sense of familiarity at the first moment.

"It's Xiaobai..."

Wendy poured the wine into her mouth, and her expression became inexplicably relieved:

"It seems that he has some strong ties to Liyue as well."

…

Beside the stone bridge, Yiran also put down his bamboo flute and looked calmly at the lake water under the bridge that was gradually brightening.

In fact, he did not choose to gather the demons in Dihua Island yesterday on a whim, but just to help Chongyun control his pure yang body.

The aura of demonic remnants brought by large-scale demons will further stimulate Xiao's already precarious spiritual pollution, causing his karma to erupt further, giving him a chance to deal with the pollution that has brought him long-term pain.

Although it is not eradicated, perhaps he will still suffer the pain of wearing the Nuo mask when he uses the explosive elements at full strength, but at least he will not have to worry about mental breakdown or being unable to contact humans for a long time due to karma for a very long time.

Yiran heaved a sigh of relief. Using the power of rules to clear away karma was not only his personal wish. At the same time, each move might have a great impact on the direction of the next move...

At the other end of the stone bridge, the dark golden hem of a robe with dragon patterns rose and fell slightly with the footsteps of its owner.

Yiran tilted his head and said unexpectedly: "Mr. Zhongli? Why are you here too?"

He smiled faintly: "Are you worried about Xiao Shangxian?"

Zhongli walked slowly towards him, stopped beside Yiran, paused for a moment, and nodded:

"Xiao has obeyed the contract and protected Liyue for hundreds of years. I have the obligation to protect him..."

Zhong Li looked at the birds pecking at the river bank, his expression showing no change: "Even though I know he is not afraid of death."

If Barbatos and Yiran hadn't intervened, he would have ensured the safety of the last Yaksha once again no matter what...

Even if he is not afraid of death, even if death may really be a relief, there should still be things in this vast human world that Xiao can miss, such as lights, such as... beautiful dreams.

Zhong Li spoke again, his tone now calm and gentle: "Anyway, thank you Yiran for this matter."

Yiran smiled and said, "No need to thank me, I just wanted to do this and I happened to be able to do it."

Zhong Li responded: "Ability..."

He seemed to be thinking about something. After a long silence, he spoke:

"Perhaps, one day, one will be able to do things that are beyond imagination."

Yi Ran was curious: "Hmm?"

He put his hand on the bridge railing and asked casually, "Mr. Zhongli, do you mean..."

Half a minute later, the conversation was completely over, and Zhong Li handed Yiran a box of calming glass powder and a small box of the best mind-calming snow lotus fruit.

As if asking the class teacher to take better care of his own children, he smiled and said:

"I'll ask Yiran to pass this calming powder on to Xiao."

Yiran nodded and responded in a gentle voice: "Thank you for the gift, Zhongli. Please come to our store again tomorrow. We have just purchased new varieties of tea and special delicacies. I look forward to tasting them with Mr. Zhongli."

Zhongli said goodbye to this desirable friend - or trading partner - with satisfaction, then turned around and headed back to Liyue Harbor.

After watching Zhong Li leave, Yiran smiled slightly and slowly spread out his hands. A Heart of God containing terrifying power and authority floated above his palms.

"Hmm...where should we make our next move..."