“It really did succeed.” Mu Yanxi said as she opened her eyes.
Her fingers rested on the strings, no longer repelled by the dragon might. She could freely adjust the strings and bridge to tune the instrument.
After several practiced taps with a wooden ruler, the zither’s sound became more ethereal and crisp. Mu Yanxi played with one hand and tapped with the other, producing a melody composed of short phrases before speaking.
“All right. I think it should be fine now.”
“Impressive. Your learning speed is almost as fast as mine.”
Yu Mowen couldn’t help but praise.
That made Mu Yanxi a little tense. Despite having a foundation in music theory and using her immortal brain to simultaneously study the recordings left by sound dao great experts, her final learning speed still couldn’t match Yu Mowen’s original hundred sounds mastery.
It seemed that back then, she could grasp it with a single touch.
“Since we’ve confirmed that Mu Yanxi can play the zhu qin, can we start actual practice? By the way, Senior Sister Yu, what instrument will you use? Or will you just focus on singing?” Yu Qiuyu asked.
At first, hearing that Shangguan Yun could find a senior sister to be lead singer, everyone thought she would only handle vocals.
They never expected her true talent to lie in the sound dao, with such outstanding skill in the qin. It would be a waste for her to only be lead singer.
Moreover, after losing her hundred sounds mastery, the only thing left was her qin technique. Perhaps repeated practice would help her rediscover her feeling for the sound dao, or build a brand-new understanding.
Mu Yanxi said directly:
“Senior Sister, I hope you’ll also play an instrument with us. That will be more beneficial for your sound dao cultivation base.”
“Since you’ve all said so, of course I’ll join in. Let me think… For a small band, without a guitar it lacks some soul. I’ll take the lead guitar.”
Yu Mowen seemed in good spirits and agreed readily.
She walked to the other side of the hall, picked up a very trendy-looking guitar—its body made of metal—and immediately began an impromptu strum.
A loud, clear, piercing sound with intense impact and penetration rang out. At the same time, Yu Mowen swayed with the playing, her silver hair billowing wildly.
For a moment, the four people present were stunned. None of them expected that the seemingly serene senior sister could have such a “wild” side when playing the qin.
This impromptu performance contained strong emotions—a catharsis of sadness, unwillingness, despair, yet also defiance.
Then she sang, what seemed like a very old song:
“He said, in the wind and rain, this little pain, what is it…”
In that instant, Mu Yanxi seemed to see a turbulent, raging ocean repeatedly crashing against a tiny boat. The sailors on board, ignoring their wounds, struggled against the heavens’ fury.
Then she saw Yu Mowen curled up in a corner, sitting on the ground with her head buried between her knees and arms, looking dejected and dispirited, even the halo above her head dim. Then a light shone on her, and a hand reached out to pull her up.
When Mu Yanxi came to her senses, her senior sister’s singing had already ended. She felt a little wetness on her face and touched the corner of her eye with her hand.
Was it tears?
Yu Qiuyu also couldn’t help but shed tears, and Ruo Xuan was outright crying. They were all moved by the emotions in Yu Mowen’s song, resonating with it, even infected by the sadness. Even Shangguan Yun’s face showed a hint of melancholy.
But after listening to the song, the mood wasn’t low or dispirited. Instead, it was a surge of determination after hitting rock bottom—the unwillingness to be abandoned by fate, the courage to fight back, even a kind of anger.
Yu Mowen had only played and sung an old pop ballad, not an immortal melody. Even though the instrument in her hands was merely an eighth-grade guitar divine artifact.
Mu Yanxi realized that this time she hadn’t been able to resist the illusion realm.
Because this wasn’t an illusion technique at its core. It was an emotional catharsis and resonance triggered by infusing feelings into music.
The visions she saw were imagined based on her own understanding of the song. The scenes in the other three’s minds should be different but similar.
Only Shangguan Yun, whose cultivation level was higher than Yu Mowen’s, resisted some of the effect.
“Thank you, Senior Sister, for teaching me the first lesson of the sound dao.”
Mu Yanxi bowed in gratitude.
The principle of the sound dao that this performance taught her was: sincere and intense emotions are more important than technique.
At the same time, it once again convinced her that Yu Mowen’s sound dao cultivation base hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
It was only psychological factors preventing her from accepting her current self. Once she broke through her mental barrier, her sound dao cultivation would surely advance by leaps and bounds.
“I wouldn’t call it teaching. I just got carried away and immersed in the song. I’m sorry for making you all feel my negative emotions.”
Yu Mowen said apologetically.
“How is that negative emotion? It’s the strength to never admit defeat to fate. With such a will, I believe Senior Sister will surely break through her mental barrier and love the sound dao again.”
Ruo Xuan said firmly.
“I should also thank you all for the encouragement. Now that we’ve chosen instruments and positions, we need to decide what types of songs to practice, and whether we want to participate in some performances.”
Yu Mowen said cheerfully.
“We don’t know much about either aspect. Could Senior Sister Yu explain?” Mu Yanxi asked.
Yu Mowen gave a detailed answer.
“The types of immortal melodies are simple: offensive, defensive, trapping, hypnotic, and many different cultivation support types. We choose to practice based on needs. Although I can’t learn new songs and can only play what I know, you can still practice new ones yourselves. Don’t worry about me.”
“As for performance types, they’re usually the goals and profit methods for amateur small bands.”
“For example, we could busk on the streets—listeners with money contribute, those without give applause; we could do small public shows at music houses, taking turns performing with other small bands to earn ticket money; or start a live stream for tips.”
“If we reach a higher skill level and become more professional, we could apply to places like companies or hotels, becoming a greeting band or resident band. But the competition is fierce, and those spots are usually held by professional sound cultivator disciple bands.”
“The hardest path is to debut independently, holding a concert exclusively for a single band. For that, we’d need our own immortal melodies, plus a unique style and characteristics to form a core competitive advantage. Of course, I’m sorry to say I can’t go down that road.”
After hearing Yu Mowen’s series of almost professional insider plans, Ruo Xuan hesitated and asked:
“We’re just beginners. Public shows, busking, live streams—they all seem hard. Is there something simpler?”
“Yes, Junior Sister, yes. If we just want to play with the sound dao and not show our faces, we can simply close the doors and only practice without performing.”