novelTele Chapter 178 The Road Ahead is Long, But the Light is Just Right
Chapter 178 The Road Ahead is Long, But the Light is Just Right
Chapter 178 The Road Ahead is Long, But the Light is Just Right
The piano keys rose and fell in their hands.
The gentle and melancholic music of "Castle in the Sky" flows like a spring.
Mingbo saw that Chizuko's fingertips trembled slightly with excitement, yet were more resolute than ever before.
Her eyes were filled with tears, but her face wore a genuine smile.
Her body was so transparent it resembled a jellyfish. She shimmered with a captivating light on the seabed, free and carefree, yet highly poisonous.
Her equally transparent father would occasionally cover her fingers with his palm to steady her voice, which was somewhat unsteady due to excitement.
That light and melodious voice of freedom became even more resolute.
Mingpo stood behind the piano, her fingertips gently stroking the hilt of the Silver Oak Blade in her pocket.
He didn't go forward, but just watched quietly.
Sunlight streamed in through the half-open window, falling on the father and daughter. Their transparent bodies could only block half the light, while the rest shone on the old Steinway.
The piano remained as old as ever. Scratches, decay, and warping—it was heartbreaking to see.
But at this moment, those scratches possess a lingering historical charm. They evoke a sense of warmth, reminiscent of an ancient town.
The musty smell in the air has dissipated.
"dad----"
Chizuko whispered, "I'm sorry—I hid the ring—"
Her father simply smiled.
She wasn't as eloquent or gentle as when she was played by Mingpo.
He simply closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, without saying a word. But a helpless smile lingered on his lips.
She must have already forgiven him.
"I hid the ring because I wanted you two to fight—"
Chizuko said softly, "Sometimes when my classmates and I have a fight, it usually makes things better. You guys are too quiet at home—it makes me feel so bad."
"I'm sorry, Chizuko."
His first words were a greeting.
Perhaps all children are waiting for their parents to say "I'm sorry".
Chizuko's eyes instantly reddened.
"Will Daddy leave again?"
"Dad has never left. But he left a long time ago."
It was a gentle yet ruthless voice.
He hardened his heart and made Chizuko accept reality.
As a paradox, his remaining consciousness was forged into this piano, while the real him had long since died.
But from another perspective, both he and Chizuko, who are alive, are living happily.
The abandoned loners are just these two "individuals".
Mingpo stared at them, lost in thought.
He suddenly realized something.
perhaps----
"Empathy" is the side effect of this title, "Domain of Slaughter."
Myoha completely manipulated Chizuko's emotions.
In return, he himself would have to experience the same emotions. While the intensity might not be 100%—it should at least be over 50%.
This is very similar to the passive effect of "Detective" as its material, which makes Mingpo's emotions more rational and indifferent.
However, "The Silence of the Lambs" takes this aspect to an extreme—
Under the influence of the title, Mingpo's own emotions became quite detached, like a god looking down upon the world.
But precisely because of this, his mind is as blank as a sheet of paper, capable of holding every painting. Through this ability, he can even try to predict what the other person will say next or do next.
Is this also one of Professor Hannibal's abilities?
It doesn't quite seem like it.
It seems like—it's a little too gentle.
"Dad," Chizuko suddenly spoke after a moment of silence, before the song was finished, "I want to be with you."
Hearing this, the man seemed somewhat helpless.
He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then sighed and put it down.
They are both merely remnants of history.
What stance can encourage people to "live well," "be happy," and "be strong"?
His figure gradually became transparent, turning into tiny specks of light.
"—We were always together."
He murmured softly, "We are all—in hell."
As soon as he finished speaking, he shattered completely.
The points of light fell on Chizuko, merging into her silhouette. Her figure was no longer a ghostly, ethereal one, but slowly solidified, and finally a shadow appeared beneath her feet, falling onto the soft carpet and overlapping with the shadow of the piano.
Chizuko did not cry.
She simply wiped away her tears and whispered, "This time—I will play it well."
Mingpo pulled his hand out of his pocket, patted her shoulder, and listened quietly as she finished playing the last piece.
He ultimately did not draw his silver oak blade.
The final notes on the piano grew slower and slower, as if reluctant to leave.
The entire Lingyin Villa began to tremble slightly.
It wasn't an earthquake, but rather felt like the chest breathing or a beating heart.
The old objects blocking the corridor, the mottled scratches, and the lingering obsessions all slowly dissipated in the tremors.
The seals on the second floor turned to ashes. All the doors and windows were opened, and a fresh breeze rushed in instantly.
Winter outside has ended sometime ago.
In early spring, the scent of grass and trees in the forest dispelled the gloom that had lingered for who knows how many years.
Chizuko sat at the piano, her fingers gently brushing across the keys.
Tears still clung to her face, yet a relieved smile graced her lips. She didn't seem like a ghost who had died unjustly, but rather like the little girl in the photograph holding her trophy, her eyes shining again.
Mingpo looked at her, a slight smile playing on her lips, and turned to walk towards the door.
"teacher----"
Chizuko's voice came from behind, and Mingbo stopped in her tracks without turning around.
"Thank you."
Mingpo raised her hand and waved.
He didn't say anything. He simply walked to the open gate and went outside.
Mingpo looked up.
The dense forest outside the door is no longer a dark abyss where you can't see your hand in the dark.
Daylight had broken. The clouds dispersed, the snow began to melt, revealing tender green shoots of grass beneath. The Mazda, covered in a thin layer of snow, sat by the roadside. The afternoon sun shone on the car, casting a gentle golden glow.
"So, the promotion game can have another solution."
Mingpo suddenly realized.
The obsession was finally resolved.
Those who went before can stop here; the newcomers will carry the destiny embodied in the "title" and continue on their journey.
Perhaps this is the true principle behind the "inheritance of titles".
Defeating the "paradox" and seizing the title seems like a heretical path.
That can hardly be called "inheritance," it's more like "seizure."
but----
"It doesn't feel bad."
Mingpo said in a low voice.
The dim yellow glow in his pupils finally went out.
He turned the key and started the engine. The wheels rolled over the melting snow with a soft sound as they drove toward the dawn beyond the dense forest.
Mingpo didn't know where he was going either.
But he knew that the Listening Pavilion no longer needed to exist.
In the rearview mirror, the old, gloomy villa has now become bright.
Its shadow grew smaller and smaller, becoming increasingly transparent, until it finally disappeared completely from Mingbo's sight.
But Mingpo could still faintly hear the sound of a piano.
And the wounds in Mingpo's heart that had never truly healed seemed to have been gently soothed by the gentle piano music.
The road ahead is long, but the daylight is just right.