The Pipa ghost crept above the human.
It was an old man.
More precisely, an elderly gentleman.
His hair and beard were gray.
His face was wrinkled.
Even his hands were covered in age spots.
His slightly furrowed brows made him look like he was in a rather bad mood.
The Pipa ghost's tongue was almost touching the old man's face.
The old man was completely unaware.
The Pipa ghost naturally drew back its wobbling eyeballs and overly long tongue.
It sat cross-legged among the flowers.
Before long, a series of melodious plucked notes rang out from its pipa.
The sun shone brightly.
Flowers surrounded them.
The sky was blue and close.
The melody flowing from beneath the Pipa ghost's fingers seemed to skip along with a lighthearted lilt.
It echoed the birdsong in a nearby tree.
The Pipa ghost grinned—
"You're so noisy!"
A gruff voice suddenly rang out.
Like a discordant note, it abruptly cut off the Pipa ghost's fluid performance.
The Pipa ghost froze.
It looked toward the source of the voice...
It was the old man lying in the recliner.
The old man's features were scrunched tightly together.
The wrinkles on his face were like ravines, carving deep furrows into his skin.
The old man hadn't woken up.
His eyelids twitched a few times.
Then they gradually settled down.
The Pipa ghost came back to its senses.
So...
Had that just been... a coincidence?
That "You're so noisy!"...
It hadn't been directed at its performance.
That made sense.
This human probably couldn't hear its performance at all.
So how could he react to it?
Besides...
The Pipa ghost grinned.
Even if this human really could hear its performance...
How could anyone find its playing noisy?
The Pipa