Chapter 55: A General

Only a man in white sat in a wheelchair, while a tall, burly man in black pushed the chair at an unhurried pace, expressionless and unfathomable.

The man was slender, and even seated in the wheelchair his tall, upright bearing was evident.

His face was like crowned jade, his eyes like countless stars, sword‑shaped eyebrows slanted, a single vermilion dot in the middle, bright red as fire, like white jade stained with blood—stunning and moving.

It is said, a stranger on the road is like jade, a young master unparalleled in the world.

The one being described is this man.

"Ninth Prince Uncle!"

Seeing the newcomer, Dongfang Qingxuan immediately rose to greet him, with utmost reverence.

The others did the same.

Facing the crowd, Dongfang Mo wore a faint smile, his eyes sparkling like a sky full of stars.

"I come uninvited; just pretend I don't exist and don't be formal." Even his words were as gentle as jade, sounding like a spring breeze to the ears.

Dongfang Mo's gaze shifted toward Ye Qingran.

The man behind him, at some unknown moment, produced a guqin and brought it before Ye Qingran.

The guqin resembled a Phoenix Tail, its hollow‑carved phoenix feathers lifelike, exuding a weighty aura as if from antiquity.

Ye Qingran thought silently that it was a fine instrument, yet showed no expression.

She looked again at Dongfang Mo and saw his smile remained faint, gentle as a full moon overhead.

Recalling that he had twice intervened in Wuji Hall to free her, Ye Qingran felt deep gratitude.

So she thanked Dongfang Mo: "Thank you, Ninth Prince."

Dongfang Mo nodded, and had someone push him to an inconspicuous corner.

She didn't know why, but as she gazed at his silhouette, for a fleeting instant her heart trembled, feeling that this Ninth Prince was like a solitary star far away in the heavens.

Under countless gazes, Ye Qingran cradled the Phoenix Tail Qin, went to the central open space, sat on the ground, her posture relaxed and graceful.

The guqin hovered before her as her delicate fingers brushed the strings, a faint azure aura flickering on and off, its soft blue light enveloping Ye Qingran.

The onlookers could not help but exclaim in admiration.

It is rumored that the PhoenixTail Guqin originated in antiquity, passed down through ages, and possesses its own intelligence.

The ancestor who forged it was a mighty being capable of splitting mountains and rivers with a single hand.

Seeing it today, it truly proved extraordinary.

Ye Huanhuan's eyes showed a hint of jealousy.

Who does not know the Ninth Prince's standing within the Imperial Clan?

Even though he was born with a disability, the former emperor favored the Ninth Prince alone, bestowing all the countless affections upon him.

Even His Majesty yields him three points of courtesy.

This PhoenixTail Guqin is the Ninth Prince's most beloved, never leaving his side.

Yet this mysterious and highly esteemed Ninth Prince lent his dearest treasure to Ye Qingran.

How could a mere worthless person have the right to use such a fine instrument?

What a waste!

She actually wants to see what astonishing piece Ye Qingran can produce on the Phoenix Tail Qin!

In this corner, Ye Qingran lowered her gaze at the guqin, staring blankly.

Unwittingly, the last time she played the guqin belonged to a previous life.

Looking back again, it feels like a dream!

The stars shift, the constellations turn, ages change.

She cannot help but sigh, "The world is impermanent."

Whether it is Huaxia or Xuanmiao, it matters not.

Life drifts like wind; the only thing she can do is hold fast to her true heart.

Even after many years, upon touching the guqin again, memories long dormant in her mind suddenly revived.

In 31st‑century Huaxia, she once played a melody that shook Jiuzhou; no one could surpass it!

"Clang~"

A bright resonant tone rang out, soaring on the wind, drifting into everyone's ears.

The crowd's spirits were jolted.

Ye Qingran's first note rang strong and clear, clearly not that of an amateur.

And that opening note set the tone for the rest of the piece—surely grand, stirring, and majestic!

Ye Huanhuan's heartstrings tightened abruptly, silently praying that Ye Qingran be nothing more than a half‑baked player!

Ye Qingran sat cross‑legged at the center of the hundred onlookers, spine straight as a pine.

In front of her lay the exquisite, hefty Phoenix Tail Qin.

Guqin, beauty!

Ye Qingran's mind was undistracted, fully immersed.

Delicate jade‑like fingers danced upon the golden strings.

The music rose with the wind, reaching every ear.

These notes differed vastly from those the noble ladies Lin Yue, Ye Huanhuan and others had just played.

If the music of Ye Huanhuan's ilk reflects the budding, tangled spring feelings of maiden girls still awaiting marriage, then Ye Qingran's playing embodies the heroic ambition of golden spears and celestial horses!

The surging sound rose layer upon layer, like crashing waves, even like an unstoppable force of ten thousand troops and horses!

People seemed, amid the waves of music, to witness this scene:

Millions of mighty lions, vast and majestic, their heavy steps resonating into an earth‑shaking melody, raising boundless dust clouds.

Wherever they passed, corpses piled up to a million, blood flowed for a thousand li!

Wind currents swirled, horses neighed long, Sword Qi like frost!

In an instant, countless troops had already arrived at the city gates; the homeland and world, wind and rain tossed, the vast lands, only weeping blood and wailing remained.

A figure riding a horse galloped swiftly from afar; behind them were hundreds of elite troops.

A tiny, vague song drifted weakly from there.

That was the military song representing honor and belief, gradually gathering into a towering sound wave, forging an unyielding wall!

Honor is my life, battle is my soul!

Even if only the last city remains, even if only the last broken body remains, we must swear to defend our homeland to the death!

The zither's tone shifted, gradually weakening.

The war horns gradually faded; what met the eyes was devastation everywhere, bodies wrapped in horsehide, wild geese crying across the fields.

One general's success, ten thousand bones wither.

In this life-and-death war, whose country has been toppled? Whose family has been exterminated?

In the end, it is...

In prosperity, the people suffer; in ruin, the people suffer!