Chapter 72: Literary Competition - A Dream Remembering the Past Part 3
Rain stormed heavily, again and again, more and more violent. Each time, the sprout feels like dying, but it stood up again—stubbornly—in the end. It would look up to the sky and howl with laughter, mocking God for being unable to take its life.
Dripping...
The sound of teardrops falling; when did it start? Tears have been falling, forming small streams and flowing with the music. The melancholic tones caused all those who heard it to tremble heavily, inside at first then gradually transforming into several sharp daggers, stabbing mercilessly into the deepest part of their hearts. The pain it caused penetrated to their very soul that even it trembled from the pain.
To have experienced the same kind of desperation and courage of the young and tender soul, of not giving up. Their hearts, more in tune now, resounded strongly with it. If they were to ask themselves, would they be able to bear that pain? They might have chosen death over all the torment, to free themselves from pain. But that young and tender soul endured it again and again, maturing with steadfast tenacity and without thoughts of sharing the burden. Watching his suffering, they began to feel ashamed, the pain they have experienced was nothing as compared to the pain he had endured. And now he was tougher and stronger for it, driving deeper into their shame.
Eventually there came an end to all the pain... Because suddenly it went to sleep, sound and steady. In the middle of the darkness and silence, it lied dormant, for a year... two years.... ten years.
Barely a minute later, the flute played its note. The moment the jade flute left his lips, sorrow flashed through his eyes, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. In the next second, his face was already full of smiles.
Incomparable silence invaded the scene, even the wind seemed to hide his existence, neither a whistle or blow to be heard. He made no comment on the atmosphere but only stood still, looking at faces filled with tears. Among them, young men and women alike, high-ranking military officials, children, old men with canes, even Hua Zhentian and Emperor Long Yin.
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
Ringing applause broke through the desperate and sorrowful air, and even Long Yin joined in. The applause had rapidly grown in its intensity, mimicking the crashing of waves. Mixed in the uproar were the sound of young women sobbing. Inviting dismay among the imperial bodyguards of the Tian Long Imperial Institute, as well as causing passer-bys to come to a stop and investigate the ruckus.
The applause from the Heavenly Star Continent were unlike those from the modern era of China which were of little value. Only during the moment where their emotions have reached their highest points would they deign to give applause since they use it as a means to release their own emotions. The intensity of their emotions would need to be...like the time that Tian Long Nation had defeated the Gale Nation. Ye Wuchen's astonishing painting skill and Lin Xiao's magnificent flute playing did not even garner such applause. Just this one time, they dedicated that applause to the tune from Ye Wuchen's flute.
Numerous people attempted to stop their tears but were unable and multitudes more clapped their hands while sobbing quietly. They were able to genuinely feel the so-called tune that could touch hearts. However short, this had already caused them to feel desperate and heart wrenching sorrow.
Wang Wenshu fell on Ye Wei in an embrace, her tears made a large wet spot on his chest, she spoke in between tears, "My pitiful Chen-er...his heart must have suffered a great deal. I have failed to be a good mother. In the future... what should I do to make it up to my child..."
Ye Wei slowly patted her back without a word, only lifting his head trying to blink the water away from his eyes. In the battlefield, he'd been seriously injured numerous times and had his fair share of near death experiences, yet he survived. He had never shed any tears before, even as he watched his comrades fall in front of him. At those times, his heart had felt like it was being cut apart by a knife, but still he did not cry. Ten years ago his mother, the one whom he depended on all his life had died due to sickness. He knelt on the ground for five days without eating or drinking until finally collapsing, from the beginning until the end, he still did not cry. He was the staunch son of the Ye family. He has only ever shed blood throughout his life, never tears.
But today, no matter how hard he tried to restrain himself, drop after drop poured from his eyes and slowly rolled down his face. His heart ached. He never knew how painful heartache could be. Nevertheless the source of his pain was actually from the sound played from a flute, rather than from the person who played the flute. If he had not experienced it first hand, he would never have met with this kind of heartbreaking sorrow.
Chen-er... What have you been through?
Hua Shuirou covered her face, tears falling like raindrops on a pear blossom, even her handkerchief was completely soaked. Looking through her tear stained eyes at the man who held her flute, she had an urge to dash to his side and give him a hug. Even Hua Zhentian beside her was rubbing his eyes, mumbling to himself, "This tune is really quite demonic, really demonic... Fuck it, even I cannot withstand it. I'm losing my mind, it's similar to the time I lost my wife."
In the corner, a trembling body voiced, "Chen-er... Can you tell your grandpa... what is this tune called?"
In the entire area, the only one who remained composed was Ye Wuchen. He answered while smiling. "This performance was impromptu. I have yet to think of a name. Though, it doesn't matter if it has no name, because after playing, I have already forgotten its notes."
For such an astonishing tune to have actually been spontaneous...This really is a very amazing talent. Only the highest of artistic attainments could make it possible. They were surprised once more, surprised in the most extreme way. Perhaps if they combined all the surprises they have ever had before, they still could not compare to that which they experienced today. The original intention of coming here was to enjoy some competitions, to find some entertainment. But the witnesses today unexpectedly experienced one surprise after another. They worried that this might just be a dream, considering the events still seemed so unreal; that once they woke up, everything would disappear.
Some people from far off places sighed endlessly as they did not attach much excitement in Tian Long City, but as it turns out, coming to Tian Long City was a very wise decision .
"No! This tune actually described the history of Heavenly Star as it has never been done before. Even though you have forgotten, your grandpa has remembered by heart each exact note. Grandpa believes that everybody here will carry the tune in their hearts for as long as they live. Although it is impossible for anyone to come close to your performance, it will surely leave mark for the generations to come. Every flute lover will come to know of its existence as the highest peak of the flute. Chen-er, please do grandpa a favor. If this tune will have no name, it will be one of my greatest regrets in life." Wang Bo became more and more excited as he spoke, ending in a desperate plea. As Long Yin's teacher, he was of the mind that his pool of knowledge was as wide as the ocean, but today, his heart had been opened to how vast oceans really are by just one person, by his daughter's son—Ye Wuchen.
"If that's the case, then let's name it A Dream Remembering the Past" Ye Wuchen said. He did not lie, as after he played the last note, he had already completely forgotten the entire tune. If this was just a dream, then what use was it to trouble one's mind. Since it is the past, then let it remain past. He himself at that time was just like that small plant which almost died young and prematurely during the violent wind and rainstorm. Today, he swore that he will become a boundless tree proudly overseeing the whole world.
Forget it... forget that indistinct past, forget the vague memories, forget the pain. When the day comes that he had sufficient strength, that lost memory of the past will reappear in front of his eyes once more.
Translated by: Fatty_Uncle
Edited by: seriouspotato & patrick_father_of_dragons