>Just as the controversy over the "pseudo-divine beast" subsided, Lingbao's unconscious humming triggered a resonance of sound waves, shattering the "heavenly gift" carefully prepared by the four-nation delegation.
＞Rumors of "Chaos Demonic Sound" spread, the Musicians' Guild accused Lingbao of destroying art, and the Music Repair Sect sold "Anti-Magic Sound Earplugs" at high prices.
>Chenbao's abacus analyzed the "harmony frequency table", Erbao's pacifier was upgraded to a universal tuner, and Sanbao's cloud boat played the "lullaby" in a loop to calm the commotion.
> Lingbao chews on a rattle and draws the "Resonance Spectrum of All Things." The Poisonous Tongue System announces: "Anyone who slanders the Devil's Voice again will be punished by listening to a recording of a crying baby for a hundred years!"
>Xiao Jue hugged Lingbao, who was humming, and sighed, "The disputes in this world are nothing compared to her half-off-tune nursery rhyme."
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Under the might of the "Century of Sweeping Shit" and the threat of the "Anti-Fraud Cloud Boat," the bubble of "pseudo-divine beast economics" quickly evaporated like morning dew under the scorching sun. Suburban farms were crammed with drooping dyed chickens and sickly ducks and geese, awaiting their "de-medicine" transformation. The air was filled with a complex odor of medicine, dye, and the distinctive scent of poultry. In the backyard of the general's mansion, the meritorious old hen, Jinhua, finally shed her "divine phoenix" halo and, with her flock of ordinary, fluffy chicks, returned to a pastoral life of scavenging sand for insects and leisurely laying eggs.
Everyone in the mansion believed that the avian catastrophe caused by a colorful egg had finally come to an end. Ah Luo even began to wonder if she should give Jinhua a treat to comfort her for the "unforeseen disaster" she had endured. The General's dining room had also regained its former tranquility and warmth—if you ignore the second treasure, Su Heng, trying to suck up a slippery fish ball with his golden pacifier, the third treasure, Su Yu, using a spoon to guide the cloud boat model "cruise" in the soup bowl, and the zero treasure, Su Ling, persistently trying to squeeze her rice-soaked hands into her father, Xiao Jue's teacup.
Lingbao has recently developed a new hobby—humming. It's not a tune, but a spontaneous, humming, monosyllable combination with a strange rhythm and ebb and flow. Sometimes it sounds like the chirping of birds in the woods at dawn, sometimes like the chirping of crickets in the grass on a summer night, and more often, it's an indescribable, chaotic murmur that seems to come from the beginning of the world.
It was a sunny afternoon. Lingbao, well fed and cheerful, was placed on a thickly cushioned couch by the window. She clutched a newly made, cotton-filled fabric rattle made by A'Luo, her chubby hands unconsciously shaking it. As the rattle's muffled "dong dong dong" thuds echoed, Lingbao's mouth engaged in an impromptu "single-person concert."
"Ah~Eey~Oh~Ka~Da~Pu~"
Her voice was soft and infantile, with the softness of a baby, yet it strangely penetrated the other sounds in the room. The syllables she hummed were irregular, the pitch fluctuating, the turns abrupt, as if she were randomly plucking an invisible harp with chaotically spaced strings.
Su Li was mending Lingbao's bellyband with a small hole in it, listening to her daughter's discordant humming with a smile on her lips, her heart melting. Chenbao was holding an abacus under the window, deducing a small model about "sound wave energy attenuation". Occasionally disturbed by his sister's "high notes", he would just raise his eyelids slightly and continue to immerse himself in his digital world. The second child, Su Heng, was lying on the carpet, carefully touching (what he thought was) the brightest rainbow candy with a golden pacifier, trying to make it more "valuable". The third child, Su Yu, was holding his cloud boat model, simulating an "anti-fraud cruise" beside the low couch, making a "woohoo" sound of the engine, trying to drown out his sister's singing.
Everything is warm and ordinary.
Yet, no one noticed that within Lingbao's seemingly chaotic humming, certain extremely brief, sharp or low syllables with strange frequencies, like stones dropped into a calm lake, quietly spreading out circles of invisible ripples. These ripples were pure, chaotic energy fluctuations, unconsciously wrapped in the sound waves by Lingbao. They penetrated the walls and spread silently.
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Two streets away from the General's Mansion, the posthouse district was bustling with activity. Tomorrow would be the "International Banquet," hosted by the King of Donghuang to celebrate the great border victory (and... um... thank the General's Mansion for calming down various auspicious incidents?). The four-nation delegation was fully committed to showcasing their nation's most advanced "heavenly music" at the banquet, hoping to win first prize and bring glory to their country (and, incidentally, test the waters of Donghuang's strength).
**Northern Di Mission Headquarters:** A chill permeated the vast tent. Ten of Northern Di's most renowned "Hanyuan Shamans" gathered in a circle, performing the final adjustments on a central bell, the "Ice Soul Chimes," carved from ten-thousand-year-old black ice. The nine chimes, varying in size, shimmered crystal clear. The naturally formed snowflake patterns on their surfaces, energized by the shamans' magical power, shone with a faint blue glow. The leading shaman, wearing a wolf-bone crown and holding a bone hammer, wore a solemn expression. He took a deep breath, gathering all his icy power, and prepared to strike the largest, central bell, sounding the powerful opening note of "Aurora Dawn"! The hammer, brimming with chilling cold, swung down fiercely!
Just when the bone hammer was about to touch the ice bell!
“Puff!”
A slight, crisp sound like breaking glass!
The ten-thousand-year-old black ice main bell, crafted with countless painstaking efforts and stronger than fine steel, suddenly began to crack from within, countless fine cracks appearing! Then, under the horrified gaze of the ten shamans, it shattered into a pile of cold ice fragments with a crash! The smaller bells nearby also began to hum mournfully, their bodies instantly covered with spiderweb-like cracks! "Aurora Dawn" hadn't even begun to play before it was already "shattered"!
"Puff!" The leading shaman's magic power backfired, and he spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ice slag, which instantly froze into red ice crystals. The tent was deadly silent, with only the whimpering of the cold air.
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