Silent Crown Chapter 408: Afternoon tea

readx(); Hundreds of years ago, after countless trials and sacrifices, the nine surnames of Long Mai succeeded in completing the miracle of ‘inheritance of music theory.’ Music theory was passed on to future generations through blood.

That’s why the talent was born, which itself is the cohesion of music theory, the heart sounds, the chapter of fate and even the rudiment of the scepter!

A person's life is finite after all. Compared with the huge world, it is not worth mentioning, and it is as thin as dust.

In order to explore the essence of the great source, the ancestor of the nine surnames of Longmai created the blood of heaven and man, and left music theory as a legacy, which was left in the blood for generations.

Countless descendants have passed on.

As long as the lineage is not destroyed, then one day, it can evolve to the realm of the great source.

After dozens of generations of ancestors' hard work, the "Ladder of Heaven" passed down to Ye Qingxuan's hands can be said to be perfect.

Its own excellent adaptability across the seven series is undoubted, not to mention its super long-distance resonance that ignores boundaries, and its terrible ability to transmit its own power thousands of miles away.

What Ye Qingxuan needs to do is to combine the ladder with his own music theory.

After careful thinking, Ye Qingxuan felt that what he had learned was so complex that he simply gave up the ways of change, summoning, and chanting, and focused on the school he currently mastered.

Revelation, illusion, mentality, and exclusion as the core.

That’s why he has a headache.

It is so difficult to merge so many things into one in one breath.

What's more, there is also the music theory of the sage's stone. If in order to complete the heart sound, abandon it, it is tantamount to buying a cedar and returning it to a pearl. Not only will the research on Xiaoyuan be exhausted, but also the huge foundation brought by the sage stone will be lost.

Thinking about it will be heartbreaking...

So, now comes the problem. <>

How to unify so many large and complex music theories, and transform them from the chaotic situation where each is the master into a coordinated whole?

Thinking of this, Ye Qingxuan's expression became sad and melancholy.

"What...what is wrong?"

He whispered softly, staring at the countless complicated notes, searching for the omissions by interpretation.

But the music theory involved is too complicated and huge. Even with the aid of a large-scale tuning instrument, it is a huge project. It is simply impossible to do it on your own, and the results of the calculations in your mind are often different.

It's been nearly half a month, and he's still clueless.

He closed his eyes and stopped thinking, tapping his fingers against the wall, humming the fuzzy tunes intermittently.

It's okay, don't worry.

There is still a long time--

In the same afternoon, across the corridor, two old prisoners were killing time boredly behind the iron fence.

The old man in a wheelchair swayed his teacup, took a couple of sucks, clicked his mouth, and shook his head seemingly dissatisfied.

"The pharmacist has changed? The seasoning is a little bit less, and there is no taste."

He put down his teacup and sighed softly:

"I can feel my feet."

In the cage opposite his room, is a bald old man with his face buried in a **** magazine. He leaned in the afternoon sun, his eyes were dim, but he looked extremely focused.

When he heard his voice, he curled his lips and raised his head and said:

"Your feet are long gone. Did I cut them off with my own hands? Did you forget?"

"You were always confused, and I later took a new one, which is better than the past.<>"

The old man in the wheelchair lifted off the blanket on his knees and shook his feet triumphantly towards the other party: "Hey, look, look..."

Beneath the broken calf, there is nothing at all.

But the muddy old eyes of the bald old man stared at him for a long time, and suddenly he patted his head, "Yes, why did I forget this."

"Right."

The old man in the wheelchair re-covered the blanket, and under the calf, there was nothing but the shape of his body. It was like some kind of twitching limbs, creeping slowly.

"Itches..."

The old man in the wheelchair stretched out his hand, scratched his non-existent foot across the blanket, and scratched his face, and his expression became sad: "Hey! Do you know that?

Lao Tang is going to die tonight, and Lao Qiao is coming soon, it should be the day after tomorrow. "

The bald head was taken aback and closed the **** magazine: "Isn't it good to see yesterday?"

"He had too much heart reformation in his early years, and he is almost unable to beat now." The old man in the wheelchair shook his head, "He can't hold on for long."

"That's it..."

"Live to this age, and to the **** age." The old man in the wheelchair clicked his mouth, "It is not easy for everyone to be neighbors for so many years."

"He was the **** age eighty years ago."

The bald head opened the magazine again, buried his head in it, and just said indifferently, "It’s a pity that the'old immortal' is dead. <>If you don’t persuade him to hurry up and let it go, maybe the holy city will have mercy. Find him a prostitute and provide hospice care."

"Forget it."

The old man in the wheelchair shook his head: "The secret of being able to change three cities eighty years ago, now let him change to a prostitute? I'm afraid of being killed by him as soon as I speak. If you want to do your best for the holy city, go on your own."

"I want to do my best, but I don’t want it in the Holy City."

The old bald man smiled strangely: "Otherwise, after the Inquisition was disintegrated, why did they send me in to read the pornographic book? If I had any secrets in my hand and could exchange for a few good things, I would have recruited it. Really. I can’t figure out why the holy city..."

"Because you are a pervert, Morian."

The old man in the wheelchair said blankly: "You are a son of a bitch."

"Thanks for the compliment."

The silence came again.

After a long time, the old man in the wheelchair asked, "Why did you look at that ghost again? Every time you read that magazine, there is no good in your heart."

Morlian raised his head, showing an old and kind smile:

"I don't know why, I want to kill someone."

The old man in the wheelchair felt a little bit, raised his head and stared in a certain direction: "Because of him?"

"That's right." Morian sighed, "You're only itchy feet, but my hands are itchy, itchy. I can't help it 30 years ago."

He listened to the vague humming from a distance, and couldn't help biting his nails.

The teeth rub and rattle.

"Young people now..."

He whispered softly: "It's amazing."

"Yes, the master of parallel imports in the Holy City was detonated by him, and he killed six in an instant, without breathing."

"I am not talking about this..."

Morrian looked up at him with scarlet bloodshot eyes: "Not this."

The old man in the wheelchair fell silent suddenly. He clicked his mouth and listened to the faint sound of the wind, his fingers on his knees beating with the beat.

The sound was just a vague humming, unclear, without any details, intermittent, like an illusory sound blown by the wind.

For these two old antiques who have been immersed in music theory for decades, it is enough to hear some clues hidden in them.

So the finger that beat the beat on the knee stiffened.

Under the blanket, the squirming right foot was squirming like a snake, and quickly returned to static.

"It turns out... so."

He sighed softly: "I remember he was less than twenty years old? Could it be that some old ghost changed his body and revived by borrowing a corpse?"

Morlian looked at him, her eyes became mocking: "If there is such an amazing talent without the help of gods, who do you think would be stupid to be a black musician?"

"..."

The old man in the wheelchair was speechless~IndoMTL.com~ just gave him a deep look: "I have been a neighbor for so many years, I advise you not to make his mind.

One day you don’t want to be taken away as a test subject with your head covered, do you? "

"Don't worry, I'm just a pity."

Morrian Jiejie laughed strangely: "Whether I move or not, the old monsters of the Cardinal Church will not let him leave here alive.

It's a pity, such a good young man can't die in my hands..."

"Let's stop here for the topic of horrible scenery."

The old man in the wheelchair sighed, "Furthermore, the tea becomes awful."

He picked up the teacup, drank the cold tea, and wiped his mouth. The remnants of the tea fell from the mouth of the cup, spilled on the table, sneered--

Sorry, I’m a little bit stuck, ask for a monthly pass to motivate~ (Although I don’t think it will be of great effect, but let’s give it a try first, maybe it will be useful~) (to be continued.)