Chapter 52: Our Song, Do You Like Listening to It?

"So, is this matter basically over now?" Lin Zhao felt a strange sense of unreality. "No dozens of giant bosses, no mazes with five passes and six generals, no cryptic prophets dropping prophecies—is this major disaster just over like this?"

Ji Yaoguang smiled and shook his head. "How could it be that easy? This has merely suppressed the trouble temporarily. As long as I have not returned to my seat, as long as Source Objects continue to be brought here, and as long as the origin of the Source Ghosts is not destroyed, this kind of thing will happen every few days. Most people are already used to it."

"You mean that our sealing of the Source Object this time and saving the Di State was just a routine minor quest, rather than a major milestone quest?" Lin Zhao was instantly dissatisfied.

"How could it be routine?" Ji Yaoguang comforted him. "If something like this happened every single day, even the Shaman God couldn't take it. No matter what, this still counts as a once-in-a-decade trouble."

Lin Zhao immediately felt relieved. If this kind of dungeon only happened once a decade, it wasn't too troublesome. He was confident he could handle it.

On the other side, the freed youth Weisheng Wu was practicing his punches.

In this great upheaval, he possessed no shamanic power; all that remained was pure physical strength, yet this strength was exceptionally pure and formidable—the longer he charged it up, the greater it became.

Curious, Lin Zhao brought Ji Yaoguang along to act as a wooden post so he could test the youth's strength.

According to Lin Zhao's temporary formula for calculating the growth of power, if Weisheng Wu were given one hour to charge up, he could unleash the power of a Human Shaman; if given a day, he could unleash the power of an Earth Shaman; and if given ten days, he could unleash the power of a Celestial Shaman.

"But I can only throw a single punch," Weisheng Wu said, staring at his own fists with deep regret. He still remembered the power he had used when he was controlled, which was unimaginably more powerful than his current state. "On this battlefield, who is going to give me time to accumulate power? Who is going to stand there and let me hit them?"

Ji Yaoguang smiled. "This is the power of a Celestial Shaman, after all. Don't worry, as long as your power is continuous and controllable, once you go to Mount Chitu, they will definitely assign you teammates with the corresponding strength of Earth Shamans to control the enemy and protect your charge-up. All you need to do is make sure you don't miss at the crucial moment."

Hearing this, Weisheng Wu also felt a sense of unreality. "Me? Earth Shaman teammates? Ah... this doesn't seem right... Ah, in that case, I need to go see the Lord of Di even faster..."

***

Ji Yaoguang agreed to Weisheng Wu's request, but he did not get to see the Lord of Di, as Si Li had gone out on business. Instead, the one he met was the Prince Regent.

Si Jin was lounging languidly in the seat of honor like a boneless creature, expressionlessly listening to the young man passionately recount how he had heard of his father's rebellious actions, learned of the evil transaction involving the Source Ghosts, and obtained the list of names at the scene. That youthful vigor inexplicably reminded Si Jin of his own past; it seemed he, too, had once been so full of youth and vitality, eager to eradicate all the darkness in the world.

When, exactly, had he turned into someone who looked at everything with utter listlessness, lacking even the courage of his mentally impaired brother?

Perhaps it was the moment when he could no longer sing...

He still remembered when that judgment order was issued, holding that slip of paper with only a few dozen characters. The chill that emanated from his very bones made his heart colder than the purple sun of the Vast Sea.

In such a wretched world, what was even worth protecting?

He waved his hand mechanically. "I am already aware of this. For this grand screening, you shall still be recommended under your original registry and will not be easily entered into the inspected registry."

Weisheng Wu was instantly ecstatic. He bowed deeply in gratitude to the Prince Regent, thanked Lin Zhao and Ji Yaoguang as well, and then departed with his head held high and chest puffed out.

"What is the inspected registry?" Lin Zhao asked out of curiosity.

"It means that because someone in the family colluded with Source Ghosts, the other family members are likely to be suspected as well. Therefore, the Shaman State requires the entire family to be kept under observation for a very long time. During this period, enlisting in the army or entering the shamanic ranks will be restricted," Ji Yaoguang explained softly.

"How long is a period of time?" Lin Zhao seized upon the key point.

"That depends on the severity of the harm. For cases like Weisheng Wu's, where his father directly participated in blood sacrifices, the observation period is generally twenty years," Ji Yaoguang hesitated. "Of course, if one achieves great merit or obtains a guarantee from a Celestial Shaman, these observation periods can all be waived."

"Twenty years? That's far too long. No wonder his obsession is so deep," Lin Zhao exclaimed, lamenting how passionate youths never admitted defeat. Then, he glanced at Si Jin, who was slumped across his seat, radiating utter laziness from head to toe. With a slight smile, he walked up and poked the small, plump bird perched on Si Jin's shoulder.

"Brother Jin, what's wrong with you? You look so displeased."

He had actually been called "brother" by the Little Golden Crow!

Si Jin instantly came back to life. He reached out, wanting to embrace the Little Golden Crow, his voice unconsciously adopting a melodic, singing cadence. "Ah, Zhao, you're still the only one who cares about me. You have no idea—today I wanted to ask my brother for a letter-conch, and he wouldn't give it to me! My older brother used to dote on me so much, giving me whatever I wanted~ But now that my illness is cured, he ignores me~ Tell me, how am I supposed to go on living like this~"

Lin Zhao reached out and pressed him back down into his seat. "Speak properly!"

Si Jin glanced at Ji Yaoguang, marveling inwardly at how broad-minded this foolish tree was. The Little Golden Crow had just called him brother, yet the tree still looked calm and completely unconcerned. Just watch me abduct this little sun! Hehe!

"Oh, something happened over at Qihong State, and they paid a heavy price to ask my older brother for help. He rushed off just a moment ago," Si Jin said briefly. "And he even took my toy away, leaving me utterly heartbroken."

"What kind of toy makes you miss it so much?" Lin Zhao was instantly curious.

Si Jin thought for a moment and pointed to a slender, grey conch sculpture resembling a street lamp not far outside the door. "See that?"

"A conch street lamp. You can put torches on top of it, nothing special," Lin Zhao had noticed this gadget the first time he came to the Di State. Aside from thinking it looked quite nice and rather rare—there was only one per street—he hadn't found anything unusual about it.

Si Jin smiled, took out a small blue conch, held it to his lips, and sang happily, "The weather is lovely today~ Calm and bright and fair~ My mood is exceptionally bright~ Lalalala~"

The lyrics were extremely simple, and the melody somewhat resembled the songs Lin Zhao used to hear back in his world—belonging to the category of improvised humming. However, Si Jin's voice was exceptionally crisp and captivating, at times bright and sweet, at times deep and resonant. With every modulation and transition, his phrasing was naturally consummate, sounding like pearls dropping onto a jade plate.

It was the kind of catchy tune that, even as mere bubble gum pop, would instantly brighten anyone's mood and make them happy upon hearing it.

For a moment, Lin Zhao's avian innate instincts were also triggered, and he chimed in along with him: "Lalalala—"

Usually, his speaking voice sounded quite clear, but once he started singing, his pitch was higher than a suona, his timbre sharper than scraping iron, grating like a saw. Almost instantly, he completely drowned out Si Jin's voice, piercing the listeners' souls with a sharp ache as if a piece of their spirit was about to be sliced away.

Si Jin gave a violent start, dropping the blue conch in his hand in a panic. His expression changed drastically, and he shrieked, "Stop singing, I beg you, stop singing!"

Actually, there was no need for him to say it. After just a few lines, Lin Zhao had already closed his mouth with a dark expression—not because Si Jin told him to stop, but because the ancient tree's originally gentle and serene expression had also frozen instantly, and the leaves on the branches of his crown had begun to droop.

Si Jin, however, had no time to comfort Lin Zhao. Scrambling up on hands and knees, he rushed toward the nearest conch.

Yet it seemed a bit too late. The melody from just moments ago was already echoing simultaneously from all the conch street lamps. Wherever the sound waves reached, guards with weaker cultivation coughed up blood and collapsed to the ground, while even the stronger ones turned as pale as paper.

In an instant, cries of misery echoed across the entire Great Wall...

"Fortunately, this blue letter-conch is of a low grade and only transmits messages to the conches along the Great Wall," Si Jin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. "If ordinary citizens in the city had heard your voice, I'm afraid it would have directly subjected all the ordinary people to a blood sacrifice."

Lin Zhao flew into a rage. "You'd better give me an explanation!"

Si Jin said gloomily, "Isn't it obvious? These conches are cultivated by the Merfolk Kingdom in the Muri Sea. If you speak into the shell of a mother conch, the exact same sound will ring out in the shell of its child conches. The more ancestral the conch, the broader the range of the message it can transmit. Therefore, whenever a major event occurs, blue, cyan, orange, or even the highest-grade golden conches are used to spread news."

"Can't you guys just use magic for broadcasting?" Lin Zhao asked strangely. "Why do you still need to use these conches?"

"Not everyone is a Celestial Shaman, you know," Si Jin said with a wronged expression. "You can't expect us to act as giant loudspeakers every time a message needs to be sent, right? These letter-conches are very necessary. Anyway, the next time I sing in front of a conch, I beg you not to open your mouth."

"Hmph," Lin Zhao sneered. "Finding my voice displeasing, are you? Just you wait. My voice is capable of purging and corroding evils; when the time comes, I'll definitely invite you Celestial Shamans to a concert."

With that, he angrily dragged the ancient tree away.

Si Jin, meanwhile, buried his face in his hands in agony. Just how much hush money would he have to pay this time to keep his older brother from finding out that he had been playing with the small letter-conch?

***

Lin Zhao walked along the Great Wall with a guilty conscience. All around, the guards stationed near the conch street lamps were mostly pale-faced, supporting one another as they shoved healing medicine into their mouths.

Uh...

Lin Zhao glanced at the leaves on Ji Yaoguang's crown and held out his hand.

Ji Yaoguang plucked a small twig with two or three leaves from his crown and handed it to him. If the leaves were plucked, they would instantly grow back.

Lin Zhao was instantly satisfied, grabbed the leaves, and went to distribute them.

The leaves were remarkably effective; they melted upon contact and healed wounds instantly. Some guards were even reluctant to eat them, quietly clutching them in their palms and hiding them away.

"This time, it wasn't Si Jin's fault, you guys shouldn't be mad at him," Lin Zhao said while handing out the leaves, offering an explanation.

"We aren't. We love listening to the Prince Regent sing the most."

"That's right, we won't report this to the State Lord."

"We don't care for those healing songs at all; we just like listening to the Prince Regent sing to us every day."

Lin Zhao was somewhat surprised. "Why? Those songs have no therapeutic effect at all, whereas those shamanic ritual songs can cleanse your corruption."

What kind of bubble gum pop was Si Jin singing anyway? If it were in his old world, it would get flamed to death.

A young warrior raised his head and asked softly, "Lord Shaman, do you think ordinary shamanic servants like us are even qualified to listen to songs?"

Lin Zhao was stunned. "Why wouldn't you be? That's a right everyone is born with. Is there really anyone who forbids you from listening to music?"

The warrior asked again, "But what if it's using a divine artifact like the crimson conch to sing to the entire Di State, or even to all the Shamanic States and allied regions? Are we qualified to listen to a song like that?"

Ji Yaoguang had already overheard. He said softly, "Get some good rest. Songs for the whole world... there will be."

He couldn't help but glance at Lin Zhao... This method of purging corruption was effective, wide-ranging, and fast... and cheap too... It's just that... well... it was a bit cruel...