Jiraiya, how much do you look like I used to?

The cherry blossoms bloom during the spring equinox.

From early April to June, they open and wither sequentially from south to north.

The May rain is more than just the tears of late spring.

It drizzles incessantly.

Like sorrow, and like the pain of loving and being unable to forget...

The night is like iron, and the cold wind cuts through the empty streets of Konohagakure. The cloth awning of the moving liquor stall flutters in the wind, like a tattered flag.

Qing Xuan sits alone on a bench under a lantern. The body of his erhu gleams coldly under the solitary light, and the snakeskin head trembles slightly in the cold wind.

The sound of the wind begins to wail from the strings, like a distant lament, or like the crisp snap of dry branches breaking in the wind. It is desolate and mournful, the vibrato produced like fallen leaves swirling in the wind, sometimes rising, sometimes falling sharply.

The melodious harmonics are like a north wind whistling through a window with countless holes. The low, drawn-out pulls, the bow dragging heavily on the strings, are like someone trudging with difficulty through the cold night.

He closes his eyes, as if unaware.

The resonance of the erhu's body seems to make the entire night sky echo this mournful cry of the wind.

Although it is only gusts of night wind, one can always hear the sound of rain in this loneliness.

The bow speed gradually slows, and the lingering notes scatter in the wind, mixing with the almost hoarse sobs beside him, making it impossible to tell if it is the strings weeping or the wind crying.

The liquor banner still flutters in the wind, and a layer of dust has settled on the bench. He maintains his playing posture, the rosin powder on the bow stick being carried away bit by bit by the cold wind, like stories that have forever vanished in the wind and rain.

The entire street is as silent as water, with only the biting night wind ceaselessly passing through every deserted corner.

"You little brat, pulling this stunt. See if you dare to do it again!"

Qing Xuan puts away his erhu. The wind sways the light of the lantern. He gently pats the dust off his clothes and glances at Tsunade, who is clutching her chest and crying her eyes out.

"Liu Yun! Liu Yun! Don't die! Wuwuwu..."

Already filled with sorrow, she appears even more desolate after getting drunk. After being catalyzed by this song, she is now crying uncontrollably.

"The pent-up sorrow must be thoroughly vented..." Qing Xuan sighs inwardly, but his small face is set in a cold sternness. He snorts and says, "Your swollen eyes are your punishment! See if you'll gamble recklessly again!"

As he speaks, he turns his gaze to the young lady beside him. His stern expression startles Ling, but then she can't help but chuckle.

Is this young master of the Uchiha clan really tsundere?

What kind of prank is this?

She thinks this, feeling both heartache for Lady Tsunade and an urge to laugh.

"Sister Ling."

Qing Xuan's voice drifts over.

"I have another song I've been watching. Do you want to hear it?"

"Ah?"

Seeing Lady Tsunade's current miserable state, the girl shivers again.

"Maybe not? I'll take Lady Tsunade back first..."

Remembering how he had messed with her emotions this morning, she hastily refuses. This young master is truly not to be trifled with; he knows how to kill with a single blow to the heart.

As she walks to the table to help Tsunade up, a deep voice suddenly rings out.

"Kid, that was well played. What's that song called?"

Even Ling hadn't noticed. Under the swaying lantern, a white-haired middle-aged man in a red coat had appeared at some point.

He sits beside Lady Tsunade with a serious expression, reaching for the still unfinished wine pot to pour himself a drink.

Haku stands protectively in front of Qing Xuan, his chakra circulating within his body, a trace of coldness spreading in the cold wind.

"May Rain."

Along with the fallen leaves scattered on the ground, Qing Xuan's voice seems to come from the wind, sounding somewhat ethereal.

"Good name!"

The middle-aged man slowly sips the wine in his cup, leaving the broad beans on the side plate untouched.

His gaze is deep as he looks ahead, as if he understands the untamed wind.

Qing Xuan's lips curve slightly. "This song has another name."

"Oh? What is it?"

"The Death of Jiraiya."

Pfft!

Jiraiya can no longer maintain his pretense. His surprised eyes look at Liu Yun's son, bewildered.

How did I die?

Liu Yun's son is doing this? And he even composed a song to mourn me?

Looking at the hint of a playful smile on the other's face, this familiarity, much like Orochimaru's, inexplicably irritates him, making him unable to drink his wine.

Before he can get angry, he hears the child's voice continue to ring out in the night wind.

"A swimming dragon returns to the sea; the sea does not welcome me, Jiraiya. Falling leaves return to their roots; the leaves do not welcome me, the Three Great Sages. A fierce tiger returns to the mountain; the mountain does not welcome me, the Great Hero. If the sea of clouds were to unite, and not welcome me, I would come on my own."

Hm?

What a stirring and heroic poem!

Jiraiya was taken aback. With his professional demeanor, he immediately pulled out his notebook and recorded it. As he wrote, he happily asked, "Kid, that's a good poem. Did you write it?"

"Of course I didn't write it."

A smile flickered in Qing Xuan's eyes. He reached out and patted Haku, signaling her to relax her guard, and stepped aside to watch Jiraiya write.

"I read it in a book," he said with a smile, pulling out a tissue from his pocket to wipe Tsunade's snot and tears.

"The book is called The Tale of Jiraiya the Gallant."

"The Tale of Jiraiya the Gallant?"

Jiraiya was shocked. He stopped writing, pointed at himself, and asked in disbelief, "Is it a novel based on me?"

"Where can I buy it? I want to get a copy."

He was genuinely excited now. He never expected to have such an admirer in the ninja world that someone would even write a book praising him! He must be one of his readers, right?

"It's just a sequel."

Qing Xuan nodded. "It's probably not on sale yet. The content is about what happened after Jiraiya fought, sacrificed himself, and sank to the bottom of the sea."

Jiraiya's smile vanished instantly. He didn't look happy at all. Perhaps he was naturally not one to smile.

"Kid, you know me?"

Qing Xuan raised an eyebrow. He was inwardly delighted but kept a straight face. "What? You don't recognize me, Jiraiya?"

"You..."

Seeing the boy's calm and composed demeanor, Jiraiya's heart jolted. After a moment of silence, a bold idea suddenly struck him.

"Icha Icha Paradise should be ending soon, right?"

Clang!

The sound of a dropped wine glass. Jiraiya hastily stood up, pointed at Qing Xuan, his face full of disbelief.

"Liu Yun! You're Liu Yun?"

The plan worked!

Qing Xuan's face was composed, but inwardly he gave himself a thumbs-up.

Ever since he met Orochimaru last time, he had become deeply curious about his father in this world. Qing Xuan wanted to gather enough information, and who else could know more details than Jiraiya, who was so simple-minded and his father's old friend?

"You seem surprised by my resurrection? Aren't you happy?"

Jiraiya's expression gradually became serious. A chill suddenly ran through him, and he stared intently at Qing Xuan, as if trying to see right through him.

Only when the night wind howled, making the lanterns sway violently, did he let out a heavy sigh.

"Liu Yun, you're not that kind of person!"

"Then what kind of person am I?"

Qing Xuan pressed on, constantly guiding Jiraiya, a wicked smile on his face. "Do you really know me, Jiraiya? Perhaps I'm not..."

As he spoke, he suddenly noticed Jiraiya's gaze becoming strange. Before he could react, he felt a sharp pain in his ear and a slap on his head.

"Huh?"

In his astonishment, a scolding voice suddenly rang out from behind him.

"Don't just go around ruining your father's reputation, you little brat!"

"Tsunade? Weren't you asleep?"

"Call me Mother!"