The music of the qin pierced the empty vacuum, passed through the warships' alloy hulls, and reached everyone's ears, including Jing Jiu's.
The music was moving, a tune not of this world, its rhythm soothing and bright, carrying the festive air of a spring-rain night, as light as water, as precious as oil.
"I don't know what Moonlit Night Prelude sounds like, so I wrote one myself. How similar does it sound to you?"
Shen Yunmai raised his head, looked at Jing Jiu, and asked.
There was no air in space, yet his voice, like the music of the qin, could disregard the medium and be heard directly-or be heard by the other person's consciousness.
"I'm not sure," Jing Jiu said.
Back at Three Thousand Courtyard on the Chaotian Continent, Young Master Li had played Moonlit Night Prelude many times. Lian Sanyue had listened attentively; he had merely listened in passing, without taking it to heart.
"You probably listened to Lian Sanyue's music the same way at that Plum Gathering. You really have no sense of romance."
Shen Yunmai sighed. "Poor Young Master Li. Poor Lian Sanyue, too."
Jing Jiu was silent for a while, then said, "You don't know shit."
Shen Yunmai neither grew angry nor went mad. Stroking his temple, he said leisurely, "I read Great Dao Toward Heaven carefully several times. The story wasn't original, but it had its interest, because your world itself is very interesting."
Many people in high society, Ran Handong among them, knew that this young master of exalted standing loved things with an ancient flair above all else. His conduct also had a distinctly ancient flair, though it tended toward madness, impulsiveness, chaos, ruthless decisiveness, and shameless bastardry. It was only natural that he should be interested in the Chaotian Continent.
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