Chapter 542: A Song That Moves the World

Hearing that excessively high-pitched tone, Rosalind White couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably!

"What on earth is that stupid woman trying to do? Playing randomly without any rhyme or reason? Not afraid to become the laughingstock!"

Even though those present might not be well-versed in the Ancient Zither, they could still distinguish the basic quality of a melody!

Upon hearing Rosalind White’s words, Fiona Vaughn nodded in agreement. She had originally worried that Cecilia would steal the spotlight, but now it seemed she was overthinking.

"It would be great if she did become a laughingstock. Earlier, Desmond Fletcher seemed to have a moment of madness, suggesting she could be the future pioneer of classical music in Veridia. They overestimated this woman way too much."

Rosalind White triumphantly placed her hands on her hips, thinking about Cecilia being embarrassed in front of everyone. Her heart finally settled, but as she looked up, she saw Cecilia under the lights, with a silhouette and figure that were alluring and reminiscent of a beautiful ink painting. Rosalind White couldn’t help but let her eyes darken once more.

"Just wait, the audience won’t be able to stand her random playing; they’re sure to boo her off stage!"

...

Almost as soon as Rosalind White finished speaking, Cecilia’s long, porcelain-white hand swiftly brushed across the strings.

In an instant, the sound of the zither, amplified by the speakers, resonated throughout the auditorium.

The initial sound was already very high. Surprisingly, Cecilia did not falter; instead, her playing was a chaotic blend, stirring like the wind, urgent like raindrops, interspersed with the metallic clang of horses and soldiers like thunder.

Rumble.

The hearts of the people were involuntarily captured by her music. Though some had ridiculed Cecilia’s disharmony, under the pressure of this monumental sound, everyone spontaneously held their breath, daring not to make a sound.

It was only a single piece of music.

Yet everyone felt as if they were placed in an ancient battlefield, the sounds of battle incessantly ringing in their ears.

This was a land without hope.

As you look around, it seems enemies are everywhere; the sound of metal slicing flesh echoes as if omnipresent. Unknown times when the world grew silent, but the despair only deepened instead of lessening.

The land was shrouded in darkness, reaching out and not seeing a hand before you.

Those imagined enemies seem all vanished, but desolation reigns, not even the chirp of insects is heard, abandoned in unknown lands. What good is hopeless shouting?

In this tiny space, there’s no one to connect with, not even enemies are visible.

A deadly silence.

Gloom covered everyone’s hearts.

The woman’s delicate hand either plucked or brushed the strings, sketching out the most helpless state of mind.

What should you do, how should you act?

Once you walked through March in Riverdell, with catkins filling the sky, turning back to see shy smiles of young boys and girls, tender promises seemed to linger by, saying they’d marry you and telling you to wait for them.

But in the end, everyone abandoned you, the one who plunged the deepest sword into your heart was him.

If only we knew it would end like this, why meet in the first place.

Though no one was narrating it, everyone seemed to see this scene.

...

Even those who initially mocked Cecilia, like Rosalind White and Fiona Vaughn, were astonished, bewitched by the eerie music, their hearts adrift, with no place to anchor.

How despairing must a person be to play such a hopeless tune?

Though those present might not have sheared Cecilia’s enchanting experiences, they have all faced setbacks to varying extents — the beauty of romance may not be something each has experienced, but life’s undercurrents and disappointments surprisingly encounter when you turned around.

...

There were initially smiles, gradually, everyone’s expressions turned bitter.

Even faint sobbing sounds emerged.

No one knew who was the first to cry, then came the second sob, surrounded by bleak winds and rain, how can one resist?

Earlier, the sorrow of Rosalind White and Fiona Vaughn was just coursed through romances between men and women, but with Cecilia, somehow friendships, love, and kinship all become piercing needles, continuously wounding.

Yes, how few truly contented relationships exist in this world.

Not even foes; even parents, lovers, apparently good friends, can cause moments of sorrow and distress. When you need them most, they might not be the hand extending aid in despair.

They might even push you into an abyss.

The road of life is hard, extremely hard, filled with countless crossroads, where are they now?

...

The tug between hearts, initially mere superficial pain, now penetrates the marrow.

More and more could not help but sob, tears falling drop by drop, unknown who first burst into tears, but none dared to mock others now.

For haven’t they too been led to such despair by the music?

Just as everyone felt overwhelmed with sorrow, Cecilia’s delicate hand gently plucked the strings, and the mournful music gradually infused a touch of resilience. Though surrounded by bleak winds and rain, everyone felt some invisible force driving them forward.

One step, another step, no matter the difficulty, continue onward.

The universe is indifferent, treating all things as straw dogs.

Does anyone not struggle in this inferno? If you strive, there’s still a chance for redemption; if you fall, there might be no turning back.

A desolate moon hangs in the sky, gradually, it seems mist envelops all around.

The music transcends, upon human hearts, transforms into the colors of the Rising Sun.

That thread-like, as golden strands sharp radiance, pierces through the first streak of darkness on the horizon, light begins to invade.

Even with the sun’s scorching heat on the earth, it surpasses endless darkness, causing everyone to sob instinctively.

The zither’s sound, from high-pitched sharpness, gradually softened, the once scorching sunlight seemed to turn into the warmth of spring.

The breeze fell on the skin, an indistinct fragrance of peach blossoms wafted from somewhere.

The young man you waited hasn’t arrived; maybe he’s made vows with another, but you’ve journeyed through the first half of your life, realizing what’s truly important.

Only yourself will never abandon you.

...

The zither’s sound like war drums, blended chaos, finally returned to tranquility.

The woman’s hand brushed the final note, the piece came to an end.

No applause, a dead silence lingered; everyone still engrossed in the recent ambiance, unable to extricate themselves.

Could it be, Veridia’s classical instruments can wield such immense power?

The crowd stared, unbelieving, looked up toward the stage where Cecilia still stood, elegant in her simple attire.

No furrows marked Cecilia’s brow, her face was free of tears, absent of despair, yet everyone seemed to comprehend that the tune was her story.

How shocking!

"Clap, clap, clap..."

It was uncertain when the first bout of applause started; Adrian Law fixed his gaze on the woman on stage, rose, with a smile.

"Cecilia, I am proud of you."