Douluo: When the piano sounds, the hidden weapon returns to the factory

Chapter 77 Birdsong in the Empty Mountains
The night was as dark as ink, and the bright moonlight shone through the dome of the simulated training ground, casting a silvery glow across the ground. Feng Yao quietly gazed at the familiar figure standing in the moonlight. Although he had seen it a thousand times, his heart still stirred.

He stepped forward slowly and gently wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind. The woman in his arms had golden hair that cascaded down her back, shimmering softly in the moonlight, and a familiar fragrance lingered in his nostrils. Feng Yao rested his chin on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of their bodies mingling.

Qian Renxue nestled gently against Feng Yao's chest, her slender fingers unconsciously entwining a strand of his hair. The two embraced quietly, letting the moonlight flow over them, as if even time itself had softened.

After an unknown amount of time, Feng Yao suddenly chuckled softly, feigning surprise, and said, "Xue'er is unusually generous today."

Qian Renxue raised her delicate face, her golden eyes widening slightly: "In your heart, am I such a jealous person?"

Feng Yao lowered his head and leaned close to her ear, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive earlobe. "Of course not," he said, his voice filled with undisguised doting affection. "It's just that Xue'er's jealous look," he said, his fingertips lightly stroking her flushed cheek, "made me truly feel that I am loved."

"Glib talker." Qian Renxue turned her face away, but couldn't hide the curve of her lips. "The aristocratic etiquette and social skills Yuexuan taught you, you've all used them to flatter me."

Qian Renxue turned gracefully in Feng Yao's arms, her long, shimmering golden hair tracing a beautiful arc in the moonlight. She clenched her slender fingers into a fist and gently pounded Feng Yao's chest, the force just enough to cause the muscles beneath his clothes to slightly indent.

“Now,” she tilted her delicate chin up, a mischievous glint in her golden eyes, “it’s time to report your results to me.” Her fingertips slowly moved up Feng Yao’s collar, finally stopping at his lips. “You deserve some interest on all the jealousy you’ve endured this past month.”

Feng Yao gently stroked Qian Renxue's cascading golden hair, his voice as soft as a night breeze: "That old fox Ning Fengzhi naturally won't easily express his feelings in front of outsiders. However..." He traced circles on her shoulder with his fingertips, "...I can sense that he's already moved. As for how far things will go, that depends on fate."

He paused, then added, "In fact, His Holiness the Pope's strategy is not without merit. Eliminating the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School with overwhelming force would not only deter various forces but also unleash the Spirit Hall's war potential, paving the way for future great undertakings."

Before she could finish speaking, Qian Renxue suddenly straightened up, two small flames igniting in her golden eyes: "Whose side are you really on?" She poked Feng Yao's chest with her slender finger, "Don't you dare speak up for that woman!"

Feng Yao grasped her restless hand and kissed her palm. "Of course, I'll always stand by Xue'er's side." His voice was gentle yet firm. "It's just... there might be a misunderstanding between you." His fingertips lightly stroked her tense back. "If she were truly as worthless as you think, why would Grandpa Qian have entrusted the papacy to her?"

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting dappled shadows on the two embracing figures. Feng Yao's soothing words gradually calmed Qian Renxue, but her slightly furrowed brows still betrayed her resentment.

Qian Renxue stared at Feng Yao, her bright golden eyes churning with complex emotions. She understood these reasons, of course, but whenever she recalled Bibi Dong's icy gaze, her chest ached as if slashed by a sharp blade—what reason could possibly drive a mother to be so heartless towards her own flesh and blood?

“I don’t care,” she turned her face away, her voice unusually willful, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, “you’re not allowed to defend her.”

"Alright, alright, let's not talk about her anymore." Feng Yao smiled indulgently, his fingertips gently brushing against Qian Renxue's slightly reddened eyes. He now understood—Qian Renxue knew that Bibi Dong might have her reasons, but she couldn't choose to forgive. Ultimately, Bibi Dong owed her the matter between mother and daughter.

He pulled Qian Renxue closer to him, feeling her slightly trembling body. Some wounds cannot be healed by reason alone. This proud girl would not easily compromise until Bibi Dong gave her an explanation.

Qian Renxue lightly twirled a strand of Feng Yao's hair with her fingertips, subtly changing the subject: "Based on your understanding of Ning Fengzhi, how far will he ultimately go?"

Feng Yao raised an eyebrow slightly: "Are you so sure he'll choose the Spirit Hall?"

“Having infiltrated his inner circle for many years, I naturally understand this Sect Master Ning better than anyone else.” Qian Renxue’s lips curved into a confident smile, her golden eyes gleaming with insightful light. “Since even you can sense his wavering…” Her slender fingertips traced across Feng Yao’s palm, “With the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School’s wealth, the one thing we have in abundance is the confidence to try and fail.”

Feng Yao nodded thoughtfully. Indeed, wealthy people, once they recognize the value of something—once they've identified its worth—often display astonishing generosity.

“If that’s the case,” he tapped his fingertips lightly on the table, making a crisp sound, “Ning Fengzhi will most likely choose a gradual approach. Directly subjugating the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile School is unrealistic, but gradually conceding concessions to stabilize the Spirit Hall is highly probable.” A glint of light flashed in Feng Yao’s eyes. “As for the specific amount to be ceded, that depends on Sect Master Ning’s negotiating skills.”

Qian Renxue smiled knowingly, her long, shimmering gold hair dancing in the candlelight: "A merchant's nature, always the same. Asking for the moon, then haggling on the spot."

"The Heaven Dou Royal Academy starts tomorrow," Qian Renxue said softly, leaning on Feng Yao's shoulder. "The royal family plans to recruit a new batch of musical instrument Soul Masters and would like to invite you to be their instructor. What do you think?"

Feng Yao toyed with a strand of her golden hair, casually smiling, "Herding one sheep is the same as herding a flock. If anyone can grasp this, I'm happy to teach them." He paused, "However, I'm only responsible for the performance; I don't offer answers or explanations."

“That’s enough.” Qian Renxue nodded in satisfaction. “The academy has no shortage of Soul Master theory teachers. Your approach is also very simple.” She lightly tapped Feng Yao’s chest with her fingertip. “How far you can go depends on the word 'enlightenment'.” Suddenly, she smiled slyly. “In that case, I’ll trouble you to play a piece at tomorrow’s opening ceremony.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Feng Yao replied gently, but suddenly leaned down and whispered in her ear, “However, how much is Xue’er going to pay me?” His warm breath brushed against her sensitive earlobe.

In an instant, a soft, warm touch came from Feng Yao's lips, a fleeting, delicate sensation like the touch of a flower petal. Qian Renxue quickly retreated, her long, flowing golden hair tracing a graceful arc in the air, only her slightly flushed earlobes betraying her shyness.

Qian Renxue slightly turned her flushed cheeks away, her golden eyelashes trembling slightly: "It's time to cultivate." Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's buzz, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority.

Feng Yao chuckled softly, his fingertips brushing against her burning earlobe: "Yes, my young master." As soon as he finished speaking, a faint aura of soul power emanated from both of them, weaving into a magnificent rosy glow under the moonlight.

The next day, the dawn broke.

The area in front of the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy was bustling with activity, its gilded gates gleaming in the morning sun. Students in colorful gowns arrived in droves, their laughter and conversation brimming with youthful energy. Colorful flags fluttered in the wind, adorning the entire academy like a celebration. In the central square of the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy, flags danced in the breeze, and the air was filled with the lively chatter of voices.

On the white marble platform, twelve gilded school flags fluttered in the morning breeze. Below, thousands of students stood in neat rows, their brand-new school uniforms gleaming uniformly in the sunlight. In the VIP section, Crown Prince Xue Qinghe, dressed in a moon-white robe, was conversing quietly with Ning Fengzhi, a gentle smile occasionally appearing on his face.

Suddenly, a clear and melodious zither tune drifted from the sky. Everyone looked up and saw Feng Yao, dressed in white, carrying the "Fuxi" zither, walking through the air. With each step he took, a zither tune rang out, and an invisible force condensed in the void, transforming into an invisible staircase.

Exclamations of surprise rose and fell among the students, their young eyes filled with awe and admiration.

"Tsk tsk, this kid's pretentious skills are just like yours." Gu Rong crossed his arms, winked at Chen Xin beside him, and transmitted his voice: "You use sword energy, he uses sound blades, it's all just fancy tricks."

Upon hearing this, Chen Xin coughed lightly, his fist pressed to his lips, a rare hint of embarrassment flashing across his usually cold and stern face.

Feng Yao, his robes fluttering, landed gracefully in the center of the ceremony platform like a banished immortal. He elegantly sat down, his slender fingers hovering over the strings of the zither.

"Zheng——"

With a gentle pluck of the fingertips, a clear and melodious note spread like ripples. In an instant, the entire square fell silent; even the wind seemed to freeze. All the students unconsciously held their breath, as if their minds had been captivated by the music.

Feng Yao's fingertips gently plucked and strummed, and melodious music flowed out like a clear spring. He slowly closed his eyes, but the world around him became clearer in his mind—the trajectory of every wisp of wind, the trembling of every leaf, all transformed into invisible veins, slowly unfolding in his heart.

As the music reached its climax, a miraculous scene unfolded:

Birds from all directions gathered as if on a pilgrimage, circling and singing above the square. Several agile kingfishers boldly landed on Feng Yao's shoulder, nodding gently to the melody. At the same time, stalks of blue silver grass sprouted from the soil, their delicate blades swaying gracefully to the rhythm, as if performing a natural dance.

Everyone in the audience held their breath, their eyes filled with amazement. They felt as if they were in a dream, afraid to make even the slightest sound, lest they disturb this miraculous scene.

Ning Fengzhi transmitted his voice to Qian Renxue, saying, "Qinghe, Xiaofeng's zither skills are so good that even Lady Yuehua would have to admit defeat."

Qian Renxue nodded with a smile, but her gaze fell thoughtfully on Ning Rongrong in the front row below the stage. The girl was staring intently at the figure on the stage, her glassy eyes gleaming with an unusual light.

As the last note slowly faded into the air, the entire audience remained immersed in its lingering melody, and no one dared to break the tranquility. Only when the kingfishers reluctantly took flight and the blue silver grass ceased swaying did a thunderous applause erupt, the cheers echoing through the sky.

Feng Yao slowly opened his eyes, his gaze as bright as the stars. He rose gracefully, his robes fluttering even without wind, and turned to face the thousands of students below the stage.

"From this day forward," a clear, melodious voice, like the gentle ringing of a jade chime, resonated clearly in everyone's ears, "I, Feng Yao, will serve as the instructor of Musical Instrument Martial Soul at the Heavenly Dou Royal Academy." His gaze, sharp as a torch, swept over every young face below the stage. "The greatest truths are simple; those with the right affinity..." His fingertips lightly touched the strings, producing a clear, resonant vibrato, "and they will find their own wonder."

This piece brought the opening ceremony to its climax. As the lingering melody resonated, everyone seemed to witness the boundless potential of musical instrument martial spirits.

After the ceremony, Feng Yao, carrying "Fu Xi," slowly walked to the lakeside. He sat upright on the familiar zither platform, his fingertips lightly caressing the strings, as if savoring the lingering charm of the music. Gradually, the music resumed, but it was more casual and natural than during the ceremony, like a clear spring flowing or a gentle breeze caressing the face.

The lakeside was now filled with students, all of them utterly silent. Some stood, some sat, but all their gazes were fixed on Feng Yao. Even the usually arrogant noble scions couldn't help but show expressions of awe.

Several students with musical instrument martial spirits discovered that their martial spirits were manifesting uncontrollably, creating a wondrous resonance with the music. Even more astonishingly, the light emanating from these martial spirits flickered and changed in sync with the rhythm of Feng Yao's music.

Chen Xin and Gu Rong did not leave, but remained hidden in another dimension, silently observing everything. The Seven Kills sword in Chen Xin's hand trembled slightly involuntarily, as if echoing the mysterious music; Gu Rong stroked his chin thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming.

Qian Renxue leaned against the carved pillars of the vermilion corridor, her gilded folding fan opening and closing gracefully between her slender fingers. A faint smile played on her lips, and her crystal-clear golden eyes shimmered with unfathomable light. Sunlight filtered through the openwork patterns of the fan ribs, casting dappled shadows on her gentle, jade-like face, adding to her mysterious charm.

Feng Yao's eyes were slightly closed, and his slender fingers moved across the strings of the zither with fluid grace, as if his entire being resonated with the heavens and earth. His soul power transformed into wisps of clear light, blending seamlessly with the natural spiritual energy, forming a hazy halo around him.

The sun was high in the sky, and the music gradually faded. Feng Yao, with a gentle flick of his sleeves, slowly rose. Yet the lingering sound, like wisps of smoke, lingered in the air above the square. The students snapped back to reality, their gazes towards the piano stage shifting from initial amazement to deep reverence—the level of skill displayed by this young instructor had far exceeded their expectations.

Ning Rongrong stared blankly at the dreamlike scene before her, a hint of imperceptible loneliness flashing in her beautiful, glassy eyes. Unconsciously, she clenched the hem of her skirt, a bitter feeling welling up inside her—like the resentment she felt as a child when her father gave away the snacks that were meant for her to other children.

The gasps of amazement around her only added to her frustration. What should have been a "special instruction" meant solely for her was now being shared by so many people, making her feel like she had a lump of cotton stuck in her throat. How could she possibly concentrate on practicing distraction control?

The grand spectacle of this day is destined to become a legend passed down through the Heaven Dou Royal Academy for centuries. And the name Feng Yao will surely resound throughout the entire Soul Master world as these witnesses spread their tales.

(End of this chapter)