by Feng Yue
Would she be more obedient? Please be a bit more obedient.
“Look at you. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” Bai Xi’s tears splattered onto his neck.
“This is my first time hearing you apologize. I can’t believe it’s under this situation.” Ye Qingxuan wanted to laugh, but he did not know how to.
He truly wanted to comfort her and say, “Don’t be scared. No matter what happens, this will end and we’ll live happily ever after. There will always be a turn at the most hopeless moment…” But things did not just end in this world, and there was not always a turnaround at every hopeless moment.
This world was so cruel and scary. If only he could say those heartwarming and pretty words, and help more people like Bai Xi and him from the past. But with some things, he was powerless.
Yes, this was how it truly was. No matter how many times the story would repeat, the ending was still the same.
From the bottom of his heart came a mocking voice, full of contempt and disdain. “Ye Qingxuan, haven’t you already experienced this feeling before? Have you ever believed your lies, even for just a second?”
Avalon was big. It was full of people drunk on money and wealth, but it had no room for someone without a home. It was no place for the weak.
If only time stopped in the past.
If only it stopped during that snowy night—the only night he was able to sleep peacefully.
Just like now, hugging someone like him, feeling warmth within his arms.
This was good—a hundred times better than fire, a thousand times better than eyes filled with pity. No matter how cruel and cold the world was, there was nothing to fear, not even death, as long as he was with his own people. As long as he was no longer lonely.
But everyone was lonely in the world.
“You hug the girl in your arms, wanting to protect her until the end. But do you hear how she cries?
“Her heart is buried in the abyss; she can’t find you with her eyes.
“And you are still powerless.”
—
Hariti’s wails shattered the stillness once again.
Her high-pitched wails echoed through the sewer. Multiple limbs squirmed within the blood mist, as if something was crawling out of hell.
Their shapes kept changing. Sometimes they were a headless prisoner, other times they were a three-headed dog, or a pile of scales like a deep sea monster. The twisted formless ghosts transformed and crawled out of the blood.
It was the resentment called forth by reading the aether here. The piles of white bones buried in the deep well from over the years was their source of energy. The music score manipulated the resentment, transforming them into monsters and demons for Hariti.
“Tiryagyoni · Prologue”—Way of the Animal.
Its power had not been fully unleashed until now. It danced crazily in the darkness.
But looking at them, Ye Qingxuan no longer felt fear. Instead, he felt loss, and relief. His heart felt light, as if something painful was soon about to be over.
The hallucination finally started to lift. Misery was leaving him too. Even the cries in his ears were getting distant. Maybe this was the last pity the gods had taken upon him.
The world before his eyes faded, but he still did not want to sleep. He wanted to talk to someone, to the girl beside him…
“Bai Xi, do people in the East really put out food for free?” he asked quietly. “It must be so nice to be a beggar in the East.”
“I lied,” Bai Xi replied. “Something like that isn’t possible.”
Ye Qingxuan forced a smile. “So no one revolted because they didn’t want the Emperor’s meat pies?”
“Nope.”
Ye Qingxuan sighed. “Bai Xi, you really love lying.”
“I can’t help it. That’s just who I am.” Her shoulder trembled as she choked out, “Annoying, right?”
“Yeah, so annoying.” Ye Qingxuan nodded. He could no longer see clearly, but he could feel the girl looking at him, and he squeezed out a smile. Bai Xi froze. With her eyes on him, she asked, “You’ll save me even if I’m annoying?”
“Yeah, I will.” His head dropped. Using his last strength, he whispered, “I’ll save you no matter what.”
Right before the darkness came, he heard Bai Xi’s murmur in his ear, “Thank you.”
The girl hugged him lightly, tears falling down. “You can save me now.”
It was as if it were a hallucination, but the cries had disappeared. The world was quiet for once. But in the quietness, Bai Xi’s heartbeat echoed, and she was still praying in a choked voice, “Please save me.”
—
In that instant, Ye Qingxuan heard thunder, screaming wind, and the soft sound of tears rolling down his cheeks. In an instant, he was embraced by the sun.
Limitless heat and pain entered him once again.
It was like lava had been poured into his veins, and the terrifying pain spread from his heart. The daze and darkness were swept away. Only the fire filled every crevice of his body, pulsing with his blood.
He forced his eyes open, but was blinded by this thing in the air—a brilliant light. It was as if the sun was enveloping the world.
Countless aether collided, unleashing piercing electric light. Like sharp blades, they cut through the darkness, setting off something thunderous in Ye Qingxuan’s ears.
It was in this thunder that he finally heard clearly the sound of Bai Xi’s breaths.
No one imagined that such a little girl harbored such immense strength—so immense that she was about to tear herself apart.
This awesome strength rushed into Ye Qingxuan’s body, following the embrace, igniting his soul, and raising it above the sun.
Ping!
Ye Qingxuan shuddered. The skin on the back of his neck split open, revealing bone. But then a long nail embedded in that bone shot out with invisible force and dug into the wall. The force did not stop there. It reverberated in his body, breaking through every obstacle in his joints.
Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!
He did not know when those nails had been hammered into his bones, but they were being forced out now, flying into the wall and disappearing.
Ye Qingxuan’s body was dyed red, but he felt calmer than ever despite the pain. It was as if he had finally shaken off his shackles and returned to the world—returned to freedom!
All light was extinguished.
But the boy’s black eyes were ignited. Under his thin eyelids, they shone like the moon.
He woke up from a memory-like hallucination, but he felt that he was not himself anymore.
A different sense of awareness came over him from somewhere far away, and entered his body. It was foreign, but was manipulated by his vessels. It blended in with his own awareness. It guided his thoughts, leading him to look at the world from another angle, to see things as they truly were.
For the first time in his life, he was able to clearly feel the presence of aether.
It existed everywhere in the world—hidden in the wind, sleeping underground, burning in flames, flowing in water.
“Is this aether?”
48 All Stray Paths Start Here
In the clock shop late at night:
“I see. That kid practiced more than a hundred thousand times over these past days. His determination is impressive.”
In the clock shop, blonde Hermes had his foot propped on Ye’s work table, playing with Ye Qingxuan’s aether ball. He whistled at the ball, and the quiet aether ball lit up. The clear crystal reflected the candlelight, displaying the shadows of complicated runes and images on the wall.
If measuring aether was its most common usage, then this was the aether ball’s most valuable ability.
The music score crystallized when it recorded every note, and melody interacted with the ball. It could display it as data and help the user compare notes, remove white noise, increase resonance with aether to help one reach the standard.
But Ye Qing
xuan had never once activated it, so he had never experienced the most helpful tool for other students.
But Hermes woke it up, overrode its protective measures. He unlocked the music scores, and clucked in awe as he skimmed the data.
“Amazing. One hundred forty-three thousand three hundred eleven times over eight days. He’d had to spend at least nine hours on this every day, right? It’s amazing how he could continue this intense level. Too bad…” Hermes shook his head, pondering. “He didn’t succeed, not even once. What kind of bad luck does he have?”
“Isn’t everyone like this?” Setton asked. “Some people will never be able to sing the right note in their entire life, right?”
“That’s because they didn’t try one hundred forty thousand times. Even an ape that keeps dancing on a piano would be able to transcribe ‘Ode to Joy.’ But this kid hasn’t even gotten the chance to touch a piano key yet. With his luck, he’d probably get kidnapped and sold just walking down the street.
“Anyway, I haven’t heard something like this in my years of being an artist. So, he either has the worst luck in history, or there’s another reason,” Hermes said.
“Another reason?” Setton asked.
Hearing his question, Hermes laughed. Rather than replying, he asked, “Setton, do you know what’s most important for a musician? Tell me. I’m in a good mood, so I won’t tease you.”
“Hey, you…isn’t the most important thing to have resonance with the aether?”
“Yes, but not entirely.” Hermes squinted. “It’s important for a musician to resonate with the aether. The higher the resonance, the better. But for a musician, the most important part within that resonance is merely the breakthrough between zero and one!
“To go from nothing to something, from zero to one, is to create something from emptiness. A person will only have one chance. In other words, it is the door for musicians. No matter how hard you work, if you can’t push open the door, you can only pace outside forever.”
He spun the aether ball on his fingertip, whistling and playing with the light. The silver light illuminated the mocking smile on his lips.
“Some people say that pushing open the door is one percent luck, nine percent talent, and ninety percent hard work. But luck and talent are the most important. Some people can open the door only with their snores. They’re known as geniuses. But then there are those who are stuck outside the door, never allowed in. It’s cruel, but sometimes, hard work is useless.”
“Are you saying that the kid doesn’t have talent?”
“F*ck no,” Hermes swore, his eyes full of disdain. “The nine families of the Dragon bloodline have the blood of the Deva. He was born more powerful than others…those born with a golden spoon have no right to complain!
“And he still has white hair even as a mixed-blood. If he was born in the East and had some powerful ‘talent,’ he might have a spot in the Lingyan Pavilion someday!”
Setton’s head hurt trying to process all the words. “What are you trying to say?”
“I just want to say that he’s very hard working, and he definitely has talent from his Deva bloodline. So if he’s not unlucky, then there’s only one possibility…”
Hermes laughed, but there was something sinister in his smile. “The Aether Seal.”
—
Setton went pale. He knew what Hermes was talking about now.
The Aether Seal was a byproduct from early experiments and research on musicians. Word of it slowly disappeared afterward. But from what Hermes said, copies of it were still kept and could be used.
When the Dark Ages had ended, many countries experimented on captive musicians to explore “the Originator.”
During this time, thousands of strange techniques were created, including the Aether Seal.
Embedding more than nineteen silencer nails into the vertebrae of an ordinary person would shut his door to music forever. This type of surgery seemed to be useful, but it had three disadvantages that caused it to be discarded.
It was too expensive, had a high death rate, and the aether’s incompatibility with foreign substances made it impossible to use on musicians. So in the end, it could only be discarded.
But what Setton did not understand was why anyone would put something so expensive into a boy’s body to make sure he could not become a musician.
“Ha, who knows?” Hermes tossed the aether ball around, his eyes mocking. “The Aether Seal really is a good idea. The person would feel pain in the proximity of Aether. In the end, he’d die under the pain of beautiful dreams. Logically, that’s how it is. But no matter who did it, this was a waste.
“They didn’t understand the Deva’s blood, and didn’t know what a laughable thing they had done. The lock could make sure he couldn’t open the door, but it can’t stop someone behind the door from bursting through…
“For some things, the more it is restricted, the harder it bounces back. Especially for this abnormal hereditary, Deva bloodline, it’s useless.”
Setton asked, “Is the Deva bloodline really that powerful?”
“Of course, you idiot. It was built using countless bodies and lives…
“For hundreds of years, the Easterners have tried to get closer to the aether. They explored their bodies, even experimenting on themselves. Nine emperors in a row sent out their armies, just so they could have people to experiment on. Who knows how many died in the process?
“The most aggressive was Emperor Qin. He even labeled the musicians who couldn’t complete task as failures and burned the books of their schools. Until finally, one experiment succeeded. After letting the resonance of aether blend into blood, it transformed into ‘talent.’ Like a wild beast, they turned this experiment into a hereditary ability.”
Setton was stunned. “You’re saying that the boy…”
“Yes,” Hermes nodded. “You can forget memories and change your personality. But as long as you’re alive, your instincts will remain. That boy pounded on the door one hundred and forty times. He only needs someone to give him a little push before he completely shatters that door.”
He paused, lamenting. “When the synchronization rate goes from zero to one, the musician’s door will open. Easterners sacrificed so much just for that moment. When the aether first melds with one’s body, it transforms the soul and becomes part of that person’s life.”
Hermes murmured, as if regretful, “At that time, the aether would be the leader, guiding the lost rebel back to the Originator. Even if it was just for a moment, the human’s conceited soul would try to escape from the Originator and return to its body, but only in that moment would they be able to see their true selves with the aether!”
He traced a ring in the air, his eyes full of pity. “All stray paths start here.”
—
For a moment, Ye Qingxuan fell into a heavy daze.
The pale blue moon rose from the edge of the sky, illuminating his eyes.
The painful dreamland was back. Time flew and all living things wilted. Everything disappeared, and was replaced by indescribable ruins and graveyards.
The pale blue moon hung in the sky.
Cobwebs and dust lingered between the tombstones. The sharp and heavy stones were like palms reaching up to the sky, trying to capture the moonlight.
—
Ye Qingxuan saw it again—that white-haired man. He paced among the tombstones in deep thought. Moss and fallen leaves clung to his long robe. Seeing Ye Qingxuan, he raised his head. His face was so familiar.
It was like seeing himself, or his father, or an old man. But he had retained the features of a youth, pretty like a girl, yet handsome and masculine at the same time.
The longer he looked, the less sure Ye Qingxuan was of his appearance. He did not know if this man was truly human, or was some ancient being. He was like some symbol from long ago—the source of all bloodlines.
He stood in the flow of time, taking in the past and future. But as he gazed at Ye Qingxuan, he
came from the past to the present. He dropped from the future to stand before him. His eyes were cold and sad.
“Do you regret it?”
This time, Ye Qingxuan could finally hear his voice clearly. His voice was deep, yet bright, like the sound of shattering jade. It pierced through his fate and past. His eyes went through Ye Qingxuan’s body, as if landing on his heart. They saw those long years of pain and persistence, looking at the times he fell into mud and struggled to crawl out.
His eyes were full of pity.
“Do you regret it?”
Ye Qingxuan froze. An ineffable sadness and misery surged in his chest.
Those forgotten things appeared once again, bringing with them a burning bitterness, pushing him to face this question.
The question transformed into a hook. It dug through his bones, looking for even the smallest shred of doubt.
“No,” a quiet voice replied in Ye Qingxuan’s heart. He stared at the man in front of him, bursting into laughter. Softly, he said, “And I won’t in the future either.”
And so the man in the dream began to laugh too, as if finding reprieve in this vast land.
“That’s great,” he murmured, gazing up into the sky.
Moonlight fell into his eyes, igniting the light of a spirit in his irises. The fallen leaves and moss sparked, flames gathered in his palm and turned silver-white.
He reached out, pushing a palm into the boy’s chest. The flames burned in Ye Qingxuan’s heart, flowing with his blood.
But something under Ye Qingxuan’s feet suddenly shattered. It was the birth of some type of power from underneath him. After brewing for so long, it finally broke through the ground.
This was an invitation to step onto the road to death. It was a guiding light to the world of death and mystery. He finally signed the contract with the Originator in this fantasy dream.
“All stray paths start from here,” the white-haired man murmured behind his back. He pressed down on Ye Qingxuan’s shoulder. His voice had suddenly changed, becoming so familiar!
“Little Yezi, this is the only thing I can give you.”
His soul seemed to latch onto the youth’s body, guiding him to raise his hand, reaching into the emptiness, and plucking at nonexistent strings.