「Any promise is important. If I make one, I'll definitely keep it.」
An unexpected reunion.
A musical score filled with discordant noise.
At this moment, what emotion should one use to respond to this encounter? Joy after a long separation? Or perhaps the despair of falling into an endless abyss, after looking forward to it countless times only to be met with disappointment?
Phrolova pressed her lips tightly together, as if trying with all her might to suppress the complex emotions churning inside her. Slowly, she shifted her gaze away, no longer looking at him.
Perhaps all of this was just a pure coincidence, a careless jest of fate. The person before her wasn't the him from her memories; they merely bore a startling resemblance, like a reflection in a mirror, illusory and fragile.
「I'm overthinking it.」
「According to the Prodigy's prophecy, he shouldn't be here. He should be in Jinzhou.」
「The person before me and the him from my memories are probably just coincidentally similar in appearance, like two leaves growing on different branches but shaped alike.」
Phrolova tried to comfort herself with this thought, to find a reasonable outlet for her chaotic heart.
Even as she kept persuading herself, striving to believe this was nothing but coincidence, a misjudgment of fate, when that silhouette so similar to the one in her memory truly appeared before her eyes, the heart that seemed sealed by time for years trembled uncontrollably, like a calm lake disturbed by a small stone; ripples spread that were hard to quiet.
It was a feeling impossible to explain with words, as if all negative and positive emotions had been kneaded together.
As for Ray, of course he was unaware of the delicate, hidden thoughts of the girl beside him. In his eyes, he and the girl were merely fleeting passersby in the vast sea of people, like two leaves blown together by chance by the wind, intersecting briefly before drifting apart.
Perhaps, after parting ways this time, they would become like two parallel lines with no further intersection, never to meet again in this lifetime.
Besides, he had a task at hand.
Moments later, the lights in the theater dimmed abruptly without warning, as if night had suddenly fallen, enveloping the entire world in a hazy gloom.
Only the orchestra on the stage was bathed in a soft, bright spotlight, becoming the sole focus of the entire hall.
The chattering crowd fell silent the moment the lights dimmed.
In the vast theater, everyone held their breath. All eyes were involuntarily and intently fixed on the orchestra on stage, filled with anticipation for the music about to be played.
Although this was their first public performance, thanks to Carlotta's investment, the announcement of their performance had drawn many people like a magnet. The theater was soon packed, everyone eager to witness the debut of this new ensemble.
And it must be said: the orchestra's skill was impressive.
The moment the performance began, almost everyone was immersed in the dreamlike world woven by the notes; their emotions rose and fell with the melody.
Some closed their eyes slightly, some nodded gently, some wore expressions of rapture, as if their souls had been transported to another dimension by the music.
But Ray was different. Though he too was absorbed, he simply closed his eyes and listened quietly, without any extra movements or emotional display.
Perhaps, to the ears of much of the audience, the piece sounded ethereal and buoyant, evoking myriad feelings. But if one listened calmly and carefully, one could detect that behind the seemingly light, floating melody lay a hidden, indescribable sense of release and sorrow, aching faintly within the music, telling a story unknown to others.
When the piece finally ended, the once-silent theater erupted with thunderous applause.
Yet within this tide of applause there were two dissonant figures.
"Aren't you going to applaud?" Phrolova tilted her head slightly, her clear eyes on the young man beside her.
"Aren't you the same?" Ray still had his eyes closed; his voice was calm and indifferent.
"Why?" she asked.
Ray seemed thoughtful. "Perhaps silent mourning is more fitting for this elegy."
Those words, strangely familiar, brushed gently against the strings of the girl's heart, causing her fingertips to tremble for an instant. Her thoughts involuntarily drifted back to that day which had changed the course of her music, the day she first met him in the crimson theater. Back then, he had made a similar remark about her.
Could it really be him?
"You have your own unique perspective on music," Phrolova pressed her lips together slightly, her gaze fixed intently on Ray, trying to catch a trace of familiarity in his expression.
Around them, the thunderous applause continued to roar, wave after wave, as if trying to drown the entire theater, yet they maintained a puzzling silence amid the fervent chorus of praise.
Ray shook his head. "No. I just heard the deeper meaning within the music, that's all."
Hearing this, Phrolova was slightly stunned. A flicker of complex emotion passed through her eyes before she slowly turned her head away, saying nothing more.
Her gaze seemed unfocused, as if evading something, or as if trying hard to sort through the tangled thoughts in her mind.
At this moment, her heart was like a mass of silk threads wildly tangled by a gust of wind, impossible to unravel, with no clear end in sight.
Was it really him, the one she had never forgotten, the one she had hoped to meet again? Or was this truly just a jest of fate, a farce meticulously orchestrated by the god of fate to toy with her?
She would rather believe the latter.
After all, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment. She was afraid of falling once more into that endless cycle of waiting and anticipation, only to be left with nothing in the end.
Or rather she had never truly held hope in the first place.
"What about you? Why didn't you applaud?" Ray asked.
Her expression was calm, her eyes holding a faint sense of distance. "Same as you. I heard the sorrow hidden beneath the melody of the piece."
"Is that so?" Ray gave a slight smile. "That's good. At least, in this world of roaring applause, I'm not a solitary oddity. Someone else resonates with me in the same way."
"I hope you truly aren't."
Phrolova frowned slightly, a hint of undetectable worry flashing in her eyes as she spoke softly.
Then, without lingering further, she turned and walked straight toward the bustling world outside the theater. Her back, illuminated by the lights, appeared somewhat frail and lonely.
"Oh, by the way, what's your name?"
Hearing this voice, the girl's steps paused slightly.
She hesitated in place for a moment, that hesitation spreading out like ripples on a lake.
Finally, she uttered her name, almost carelessly.
"Phrolova."
.
.
.
.
Bonus Chapter Alert!
If we cross 100 powerstones this week, there will be another bonus chapter.