Chapter Thirty-Six: A Sudden Turn of Events

Central District, inside a small shop.

Miles watched as the driver finished installing, then opened the playlist on the portable music player.

“What song would you like to listen to?”

“A nice song.”

...Well, that doesn’t help me figure out your taste.

The boy in the baseball cap and the man in green stared at each other. The man seemed to sense the awkwardness and asked again, “What songs do people in this city listen to?”

“Well, you know, citizens of the City of the Firmament come from all over the world, so they listen to everything. If you want something popular right now, I’d suggest you try songs by Xingli.”

“Xingli?”

“That’s her stage name. She’s been a hot idol these past couple of years; a lot of my classmates are her fans.” Speaking of his favorite singer, he grew visibly excited. “Honestly, she’s incredible—way better than a lot of stars I’ve heard before! Let me play a song for you.”

The old shopkeeper would be gone a while longer, so the boy in the cap stopped the gramophone and played the latest hit from the idol through the shop’s speakers.

“Waving the wings of white wax...”
“Saying goodbye to the past...”

A lively female voice filled the shop. Miles introduced the song enthusiastically, “This is the City of the Firmament Impression Song she released last year—I really love this one!”

The twin-blade swordsman listened for a moment with his eyes closed, then nodded.

“It’s very pleasant. I’d like to add her songs to my portable player.”

“All right, but…” He hesitated. “This isn’t my computer. Downloading legitimate, specially formatted music files here would be a hassle… so... sir, do you mind listening to pirated music?”

The man in green asked, puzzled, “What do you mean by ‘pirated’?”

Miles gave up on explaining and brushed it off casually, “It’s nothing, I doubt you’d mind. Just wait a bit—I’ll copy the files from my phone. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

The twin-blade swordsman nodded and started browsing through the shop’s merchandise.

Time slowly passed. Miles stared at the music player and suddenly remembered the culprits behind his recent misfortune—the three thugs in black.

He copied the idol’s latest songs onto the player and frowned at the original audio files listed there.

Were the people from the Wing of Death searching for this music player to access those files? He didn’t dare listen to them, nor ask about them, but feared that someday he might be cornered by terrifying individuals because of them.

Should he back up these files? Would that put his own safety at risk? Or should he simply do nothing at all?

He shuddered and abandoned any thoughts of meddling. The more he did, the more he risked mistakes. He ought to stay as far away from all this as possible; if he ever got caught, he’d just tell the truth and leave the rest to fate.

That was the wisest choice. As he often told himself, he was just a bit player, an ordinary person—not someone meant to appear in the story, just background filler.

His “screen time” had been more than enough, hadn’t it?

·

Not everyone thought so.

Ordinary people were useful.

Their advantage lay in their powerlessness.

Powerless, weak, lacking strength or wisdom, fragile of heart. Thus, perfect for playing the pawns on the chessboard, influencing the moves of greater pieces.

No need to interfere with their minds or manipulate fate—just a hint, a few illusions mistaken for reality: wind, temperature, sound, and most crucially, the omnipresent web...

Even a Manifestation-level spiritual magician could be easily guided to where she ought to go. Even figures like Heaven’s Limit, Mingke, or Xuanweaving Lord would still stumble blindly across the board, dancing in the chessmaster’s hand.

Everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly.

It was time for the next move.

“No need to rush, no need to hurry. Adding complications brings no benefit; painstaking effort is wasted! Better to watch from the sidelines, wait for the undercurrents to stir!”

The longer you wait, the more variables arise.

·

The dragonborn at the heart of the vortex were unstable after repeated setbacks, and the magicians of Impermanence still saw no truth. The string of failed escape attempts stirred unease among the lower ranks. Mingke was about to encounter the bait prepared for him, and he would surely walk into it willingly.

This was the perfect opportunity.

“Why argue? Only because you’re flustered! The Silent Star Demon Sword is a thorn in your side, making you uneasy!”

I admit it. I don’t want Gongsun Ce to live too long.

He went to read the letter, which was one of the outcomes we anticipated. He likely won’t gain anything from it immediately... but I still feel uneasy. This dragonborn brings too many variables—you know this even better than I.

“Words are cold, murder lurks! Advice is given, the choice is yours.”

The Glass Dragon is dead; his task is complete. Now it’s time for the dragonborn to exit the stage, in a way befitting them. Small brawls, street fights...

Let those immersed in daily life greet calamity unprepared.

The chessmaster makes his move; the game continues.

·

Miles “couldn’t see” the mouse moving on the screen by itself.

The cursor passed over the original audio files in the music player, dragging these heavily encrypted sounds—meant to be unplayable on any other device—to the old computer’s desktop.

The computer automatically connected to the shop’s speakers. Several audio files were added to the music player.

The mouse was about to click play—

“Um.”

A slender hand rested atop the middle schooler’s.

Miles looked up in surprise. The previously relaxed man had circled behind the counter, now standing behind him.

“How does this work?” Mingke asked gently. “I’d like to learn.”

“Ah? Uh, just a moment…”

Ding-a-ling.

Just then, the door’s bell rang again—new customers entered the shop.

“Listening to good music always lifts the mood!”

“That’s your method, Kirra~”

Miles almost fainted in terror. These two who walked in were none other than the Red Lioness and the pink-haired lady he’d encountered in the tower this morning! How could he be unlucky enough to run into them twice in one day?!

Miles couldn’t even respond to the man in green; he nearly screamed in despair. “Please, ladies, I beg you—let me go! I’m innocent, I know nothing!”

Cardesia had to think for a moment before remembering who he was.

“Uh, you’re the kid from the cinema today?”

Nods, nods.

The blonde girl laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry! I lost my temper earlier. Really, I shouldn’t have dragged you into all that. But hey, calling a girl a lioness is pretty rude, don’t you think?”

He nodded furiously.

“So let’s split the blame, seventy-thirty—is that okay? Are you hungry? I’ll buy you lunch.”

At that moment, the middle schooler’s mind went blank.

He realized that all he’d been through wasn’t much to the others—just like classmates roughhousing after class and bumping into each other, then offering a snack as apology. He was initially indignant—but didn’t break down in rage.

It wasn’t fear or exhaustion; it was the memory of the old shopkeeper’s comforting words, and the apple pie that calmed him.

The old man’s kindness hadn’t worked immediately, but now it cooled his anxious heart.

He reviewed his misfortunes. Did he really suffer any harm? The answer was no. He tried to escape and got caught, but the magician hadn’t beaten or scolded him—just a few words before leaving; his scooter was borrowed and returned, and he’d agreed to it; the music player had changed hands several times, but now was back with the man in green; the only “injury” was a blast from the Red Lioness’s fireball—leaving him a little singed, but not even tearing his clothes.

“I just had some pie, thank you. You see, it wasn’t intentional—I hope you can forgive me.”

Miles responded in a perfectly ordinary way, as if chatting with classmates.

“Oh dear, well…” The lady in the top hat looked embarrassed. “Honestly, I should apologize. Normally, I wouldn’t drag you into something like this—maybe just scare you with a little spark.”

She’d use little sparks normally?! That’s still terrifying!

Wait—I’m actually having a normal conversation with the Red Lioness. How calm I am! He praised himself inwardly.

…Is that really something to be proud of?

Just because he’d spoken to a powerful psychic? He was a good student, but not lacking in social skills, usually getting along well with everyone, often venting with friends… That’s why, when everyone tried to escape, they made him the leader.

What was wrong with him these days? Why did he stumble over his words?

“Please wait.”

Miles took off his cap, rubbing his head in frustration. For some reason, he felt “strange.”

This morning, he could have explained things in a few words, but he’d been stammering all along. Was he too excited, too anxious? Why? The Red Lioness was scary, sure, but the magician wasn’t as frightening. Thinking carefully, the gray-haired man was just talkative—not so abnormal—and had taught him a lot…

Was it his own problem? He was in a bad state… It seemed to have started a few days ago, since his failed “prison break”—he’d been uneasy ever since…

Miles broke out in cold sweat. It was as if something vague in his mind had been dispelled; the more he thought, the clearer he felt, and the more he realized how odd it was.

“Miss! Can I tell you something?”

He spoke briefly and quickly, just as he had when giving orders in the airport bathroom.

“Hold on a moment.”

But the Red Lioness wasn’t looking at him—she was watching her companion.

The pink-haired lady’s face was pale. She covered her ears with both hands, groaning softly.

“Cardesia… I feel awful… I don’t want to hear this song…!”

The Red Lioness steadied her, asking seriously, “Kirra, do you mean the song playing in the shop?”

“Change the track, please! Change the track!!” she babbled, “...I don’t want to hear Xingli’s song!”

Miles nodded immediately. “I’ll change it right now. Sorry for the wait, sir—your songs are ready!”

He unplugged the music player and switched the playlist.

The girl’s strange behavior confirmed his suspicion—something was definitely wrong. He was ready to talk seriously to these odd people, because now wasn’t the time to stay away from danger; he’d already been swept into some kind of indescribable, invisible vortex.

He was right. Like Gongsun Ce, he sensed the discord. It wasn’t hard—just a clear mind, a calm heart, and a chance to organize his thoughts, plus a touch of inspiration, and anyone could sniff out something strange from a string of coincidences.

But Miles was just an ordinary person. The tracks in the playlist weren’t from the old computer’s archive, but newly copied from the music player; he hadn’t “seen” this.

At this moment—

Gongsun Ce had just begun reading the letter, Shi Yulian had just entered her house, Qin Qianbo was half a block away.

Skullhead stepped into the central district.

Miles clicked the mouse to change the song.

Thus, the idol’s track stopped, replaced by a song from the Wing of Death playlist. Its monotonous, dull prelude sounded through the shop.

“Ugh.”

Mingke had heard this song many times recently, and grimaced as he commented,

“This song is awful.”

The next moment, a shrill scream echoed through the shop.

You are a genius—remember in one second: Red Spring—