Searching High and Low, but Finding Nothing

"In that case, let us be off." Christopher turned slightly and gestured for them to proceed. The movement was effortless, as though he were not a traveler passing by chance, but the natural leader of this journey. "It's not a short trip, so we'd best cover as much ground as we can while it's still light."

The four of them crossed Egla Town's main cobblestone street and headed north along a winding dirt road through the countryside.

The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves of the roadside trees, scattering flecks of gold across their shoulders.

Kexi and Cioccolata walked side by side at the back, while Yaoyue followed close behind Christopher, her steps so eager that she seemed afraid the clue she had just found would vanish like the wind if she slowed down.

Christopher, on the other hand, walked at an easy pace with his hands clasped behind his back, occasionally turning his head to answer Yaoyue's questions.

"Mr. Christopher, what kind of person is Mr. Rosinante?" Yaoyue asked. She held the musical note pendant tightly in her hand, her knuckles slightly white from the pressure.

"An interesting man." There was a smile in Christopher's voice, as though he were recalling some pleasant memory. "The records I gathered said he was free-spirited and unrestrained, and disliked being tied down.

"Nobles paid handsomely to have him sing at their banquets, but he often stood them up. Yet he would turn up at a tavern by the docks and sing all night for free to the sailors who spent their years adrift.

"Some said he was eccentric, while others called him a true artist. He was probably a bit of both."

"Then he must be... very old by now," Yaoyue said softly, a cautious hope in her voice.

Christopher did not answer directly. He merely gave a soft sigh.

"Time spares no one. But for a bard, as long as one person still remembers his songs, he has never truly grown old.

"Miss, your mother remembered him, and you came looking for him. That alone is the finest tribute you could pay him."

Yaoyue lowered her head, her fingers rubbing the engraving on the pendant, her eyes growing warm again. She took a deep breath, suppressed the ache in her chest, and quickened her pace.

Listening to their conversation from behind, Kexi felt a measure of respect for this Rosinante he had never met.

How much charm did it take for someone to remember him for fifty years, for a younger person who had never met him to cross mountains and seas in search of him?

He stole a glance at Cioccolata beside him. She was walking with her head down, her hat brim hiding most of her face and making her expression impossible to read.

"Hey," he said, nudging Cioccolata's shoulder gently with his elbow. "Do you think this Rosinante might be your founding master?"

Cioccolata raised her head and rolled her eyes at him. "Bards don't have founding masters or sects. Every bard is independent. We just sing; there's no need to claim an ancestor."

"Then why did you want to come along?" Kexi pressed.

Cioccolata was silent for a moment, adjusting the lute on her shoulder.

"Because a bard could be remembered like that." Her voice was so soft it was almost carried away by the wind, but Kexi heard every word. "I wanted to see what kind of song could make someone remember it for a lifetime."

Kexi asked no more.

The dirt road gradually became a gentle slope, and the noise of the town fell far behind them, replaced by the wind across the open fields and the occasional birdcall.

The view gradually opened up before them. Vast stretches of grass glowed gold and green in the sunlight, and an abandoned stone wall was faintly visible in the distance. Wild roses covered it, their pink and white blossoms swaying in the wind as though guarding something.

"This is the boundary of Ragunna's old district." Christopher stopped and pointed to the rose-covered wall. "Fifty years ago, this was one of the busiest parts of Ragunna.

"Later, the new city was built, and this area gradually fell into disuse.

"But Mr. Rosinante preferred the peace and quiet here. His home is said to be somewhere nearby."

Yaoyue practically ran up the slope.

She stood before the rose-covered wall and reached out to touch the soft petals, imagining whether her mother had walked this road fifty years ago, whether she too had stopped before one of the roses.

Her eyes reddened again, but she wore a smile.

Beyond a gap in the wall, a small stone cottage covered in ivy came into view.

The cottage was small, its walls covered in cracks from age, but its doors and windows were intact. An old rocking chair sat outside, and half a cup of long-cold tea rested on the stone steps beside it.

"Someone lives here." Cioccolata had keenly noticed the tea.

Christopher walked up and knocked gently on the door.

There was no answer.

He knocked a few more times, but still received no answer.

He reached out and pushed the door. It was unlocked and creaked open.

The interior was dim, with only a few rays of sunlight squeezing through the gaps in the window shutters.

The air was filled with the smell of old paper, mingled with a faint scent of sandalwood.

Handwritten sheet music covered the walls, drafts were piled half a person's height on the table, and an old harp with broken strings stood in the corner.

"It seems the owner is out for the moment." Christopher looked around, his gaze lingering on the sheet music for a while.

He walked over to the table, picked up the yellowed sheet on top, and studied it carefully. Then he turned and handed it to Yaoyue.

"Miss, take a look at this."

Yaoyue took the sheet. A line of numbered musical notation had been copied onto it in neat handwriting, and the title read: "To the Yue Maiden Far Away."

Beneath it was another line in small writing. The ink had blurred somewhat, but it was still legible:

"For a girl from Yuezhou. May you hear the wind of your homeland wherever you are."

Yaoyue's hands began to tremble. She opened the pendant in her palm-the small inscription inside was in exactly the same handwriting as the words on the paper.

She did not cry out, but tears slid down her cheeks and fell onto the yellowed sheet music, spreading into a small damp patch.

"It's him..." Her voice choked. "It really is him..."

Cioccolata took the sheet music from her and studied the notes, remaining silent for a long time.

She walked over to the broken-stringed harp in the corner and gently plucked its only intact string.

A low note echoed through the dim cottage, like a sigh that had crossed fifty years.

"I've seen this song before," Cioccolata said, her voice a little hoarse.

Yaoyue and Kexi both turned to look at her.

"Not this song." Cioccolata took a battered notebook from inside her clothes, turned to a page, and laid it flat on the table. "This melody. My master passed it on to me, saying it was a very old tune and telling me to remember it well.

"She said a bard wrote it for a girl from a distant land. The girl had fallen ill on the street and was penniless, but she refused to give up on living, no matter what.

"Moved by her stubbornness, the bard wrote the song overnight and sang it for her on the day she recovered and left."

The notebook was densely filled with chords and numbered musical notation. Beside them, a few words had been scrawled in red ink: "Inherited piece. Origin unknown. Suspected old Ragunna style."

Yaoyue crouched down and buried her face in her knees, her shoulders trembling gently. She did not sob aloud, but wept quietly, with restraint.

Sunlight slanted through the doorway, falling on her and on the pendant wet with her tears, reflecting scattered flecks of light.

Fifty years.

Her mother had waited fifty years, only to pass away with regrets.

And she had finally found this place, yet she was still a step too late.

The man who had saved her mother, the man who had written a song her mother remembered for a lifetime, might already be gone, or he might simply have happened to go on a long trip. But regardless, she was finally standing where he had once lived, touching the traces he had left behind.

Christopher stood in the doorway, his expression indistinct beneath his mask. He lowered his eyes, and his lips moved slightly, but he said nothing.

Kexi patted Yaoyue on the shoulder and took a handkerchief from inside his clothes, offering it to her.

He was usually quick with words, but faced with a girl who had just fulfilled her mother's dying wish, he racked his brains without finding the right thing to say. In the end, he could only say awkwardly, "Don't cry. You did it. Your mother would be very happy."

Yaoyue took the handkerchief and nodded, but said nothing. Christopher spoke then, his voice a little lower than before. "It's getting late. Let's wait another quarter of an hour. If the owner still hasn't returned, we should head back for now. At least we've found where he lives. There's no harm in coming back another day."

The others nodded in agreement.

A quarter of an hour later, the cottage's owner still had not appeared.

Christopher led everyone back the way they had come. Along the way, Yaoyue clutched the pendant to her chest and looked back toward the rose-covered wall from time to time. The eagerness in her eyes was gone, replaced by a quiet, settled contentment.

Cioccolata was silent all the way, her fingers unconsciously plucking the strings of her lute without producing a single complete note.

As they neared the town, she suddenly spoke. "I'll try to reconstruct that song tonight. The version from fifty years ago differs somewhat from the score now, but its framework should still be there."

Yaoyue turned sharply to look at her, her eyes startlingly bright. "Can you?"

"Of course. The version your mother heard should be more complete than the one passed down to me." She glanced at the pendant in Yaoyue's hand, and the faintest smile appeared on her lips. "Once I've reconstructed it, I'll sing it for you. Right here, in Egla."

Yaoyue's eyes grew wet again, but this time she was smiling.

It was already growing dark by the time they returned to Egla Town.

Christopher stood at the edge of the square and gave the three of them a slight bow. "This is where today's journey ends. It was my honor to witness a bond spanning fifty years continue. Miss, may your mother's spirit rest in peace."

Yaoyue bowed deeply. "Thank you, Mr. Christopher. If it weren't for you-"

Christopher waved a hand, cutting her off. "There's no need to thank me. I merely happened to know a few things about the past."

He turned away, the dark red hem of his clothes blending into the deepening night, and soon disappeared at the end of the cobblestone road.

Behind him came the sound of Yaoyue saying goodbye to Cioccolata and Kexi, followed by Kexi's reminder to "take care on the road."

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

Elsewhere.

At the port of Ragunna.

Two girls, one older and one younger, set foot in this land of Echoes.

The older one had white hair, and the younger one had blue hair.

The younger one stretched and breathed in the fresh air, then pulled out a-

Dragon-seeking compass.

She muttered under her breath.

"Seek the dragon and divide the gold, observe the encircling mountains; look up and find the police.

..."

After listening to her chant for a while, the older one finally couldn't hold back. "Hey, does that thing actually work?"

The blue-haired girl ignored him, continuing to fiddle with the dragon-seeking compass in her hands. "Of course it does! When have I, the Heavenly Venerable of Heaven and Earth, Primordial Chaos, Thunder Talismans, Water, and Writs, ever been wrong?"

"But how come I remember that thing being used to find dead people's coffins?"

No sooner had she spoken than the dragon-seeking compass emitted a faint glow in a certain direction.

The blue-haired girl turned to look at her with a smug expression.

"See! Didn't I find it?"