Chapter 119: The Sinister Flower

(Cat Pounce Chinese)

Luo Hanya parted his lips slightly, intending to ask the White-robed Man a few more questions, but the latter waved a hand and pointed with great interest toward the staircase, signaling for Luo Hanya to look that way.

In the dim stairwell, a blinding beam of light descended from above, like a spotlight on a stage illuminating the lead standing at its center. A strange sound slowly rose, as though welcoming the protagonist’s arrival.

A xiao flute? Who was playing it?

Luo Hanya’s heart gave a violent leap. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but the others at the table merely smiled at most, savoring the lingering, mournful melody with evident pleasure. The xiao’s voice drifting through the mist did not make them shudder with fear. On the contrary, they seemed to be enjoying it. Luo Hanya truly had no idea what kind of monsters these people were.

A few seconds later, it was no longer just the xiao. A voice that sounded like a young woman’s began to sing, making soft, wavering sounds.

Only then did Luo Hanya realize where the music was coming from. He turned his gaze toward the corner of the wall where sunlight never reached. A cabinet, severely corroded by years in a dark and damp environment, stood there. The sound was coming from inside it.

Through the cabinet’s many holes, large and small, he could vaguely make out an old-fashioned gramophone. A long-playing record rested upon it, a needle set against its surface as the disc turned slowly.

The sound was coming from the gramophone!

Then the xiao, flute, sheng, and guzheng all joined in. The ancient, melodious, yet sorrowfully plaintive music drifted through the entire Misty Inn.

“Midnight Song. What a splendid Midnight Song.”

The White-robed Man seemed to be smiling, showing no reluctance to praise the person not far away.

“Midnight Song?” Luo Hanya blinked and rummaged through his memories of the piece. Midnight Song was a melody from the Jin Dynasty. A woman named Ziye had composed it, and its tone was overwhelmingly sorrowful. Later, it developed in the south into a distinctive form of opera, which had by now almost entirely disappeared.

“Manluo, you are late.” Makaliusi took another sip of tea and leisurely revealed the identity of the newcomer.

Luo Hanya rubbed his eyes and studied the figure carefully for a moment. He felt as if his entire world had been overturned. He could not believe that the person standing at the foot of the stairs was Manluo.

She wore an embroidered opera costume, and the blue skirt made her appear even more elegant and ethereal. Long, flowing water sleeves fluttered from her arms, while a dainty embroidered shoe peeked from beneath the hem. The costume fit her figure perfectly, bringing out in vivid detail the graceful bearing unique to an Eastern woman.

Her face was covered in heavy theatrical makeup, giving her the complete appearance of a leading female opera performer. There was not the slightest resemblance to Manluo’s square face. How could this possibly be Manluo?

The actress did not answer. She continued to sing the mournful opera passage, her beautiful eyes filled with boundless sorrow, perfectly reflecting the meaning of Midnight Song: the desolate grief of Ziye being forced to part from the one she loved.

Luo Hanya seemed dazed, entirely absorbed in the actress’s performance. Although he could barely understand the words she sang, the beautiful melody and haunting vocal style made him lose consciousness despite himself, sinking helplessly into the song of midnight.

At that moment, the melody from the gramophone grew increasingly tragic, beautiful enough to break the heart.

As though possessed, Luo Hanya tremblingly picked up a table knife and slowly drove it toward his own heart.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

A fit of violent coughing erupted without warning, shattering the exquisite sorrow of the moment.

Luo Hanya jolted violently. The fork in his hand fell to the floor, and cold sweat drenched his body. Still shaken, he glanced at the actress, who continued to sing in soft, wavering tones, and silently thanked Xiaofeng for intervening.

“Why? Why did you interfere?”

The actress’s resentful voice emerged from her lips. She stopped abruptly, apparently deeply displeased by Xiaofeng’s sudden intervention.

“He owes my mother and me our lives. I will not allow him to die here.”

Xiaofeng, who had originally been resting on Luo Hanya’s shoulder, had opened his eyes at some point. His voice was even weaker now, so faint that it could barely be heard without careful attention.

“How much longer can you live? You have not belonged here for a long time.”

“My lifespan is the shortest, so when I burn, I shine the most brilliantly.”

“Why bother? Everything you have suffered is because of him.”

“This is fate. I do not blame anyone.”

Xiaofeng spoke to Manluo in a voice as cold as ice, like a ghost sighing.

“You are practically begging for death. To put it bluntly, no combination of everyone sitting here could stop me. Why force me into such an unpleasant mood? It will only make your suffering worse.”

Manluo’s voice grew shrill and piercing, assaulting everyone’s eardrums.

“Cough, cough, cough…”

“I am already dead. How can you say I am seeking death?”

Xiaofeng seemed to smile, wholly indifferent to Manluo’s threat.

“Hahahaha… Hahahaha…”

Manluo swept her gaze around the room and laughed like a madwoman. Tears streamed from her eyes. She pointed at Luo Hanya and gave him a look of pity.

“Luo Hanya, how much do you know now?”

“What… what did you say?”

A monstrous wave surged through Luo Hanya’s heart. He even suspected that his ears had deceived him. His head spun violently. Why would a character from a game script know his real name?

Once again, he could not help thinking of that question:

Was this really still a game?

“I said Luo Hanya.”

Manluo repeated the name slowly and clearly, as though she wanted to make certain that he heard it and understood it.

Luo Hanya’s mind rang with a thunderous hum. Waves of heat surged from his heart and crashed relentlessly into his brain, making it difficult to breathe. He collapsed against the chair, his eyes unfocused, as reality and illusion swung wildly before him, alternating in a chaotic blur.

Manluo smiled. Even the heavy theatrical makeup could not conceal the wicked allure in her features, making one wonder whether she was truly a man or a woman.

“Brother, we all know who you are.”

Xiaofeng placed his cold little hand against Luo Hanya’s cheek and murmured softly, “You actually guessed it long ago. You simply refused to admit it.”

“Are all of you really me?”

Luo Hanya slowly closed his eyes and spoke the suspicion he had never dared to voice.

“They still are, but I am—and I am not.”

Manluo licked her lips and gazed at Luo Hanya greedily.

“Your guess is exactly right. Everyone here, no matter who they are, was originally you.”

“This place was originally your heart. We are nothing more than your thoughts.”

(To be continued.)

Cat Pounce Chinese