When the song ended, Zong Yan slowly put down the flute. He felt like he was born to play this piece of music.
Yes, it sounded so beautiful! The music of the flute was like a melody from heaven. Who else could play it but him? Who else!!
“How was it?”
With the flute in his hand, the black-haired teen looked excitedly at the Black Pharaoh, the only entity left in the living room.
The Black Pharaoh was one of the countless avatars of Nyarlathotep. He was a handsome man with dark skin and gorgeous robes.
He had a gamepad in his hand, his eyes were glued to the screen, and he didn’t respond to Zong Yan’s question.
Zong Yan couldn’t help but think that was a little strange. He knew the Haunter of the Dark and the Bloated Woman had just been here too, but he didn’t know why they all disappeared as soon as he began to play. As he thought about it, he began to walk over.
“Ah?”
When Zong Yan went over to the Black Pharaoh, the latter suddenly reacted. His expression was a bit confused.
“What do you think about what I just played?” Zong Yan asked very sincerely.
“Good, very good.” As if to prove the sincerity of his words, Nyarla put down the gamepad and clapped his hands.
Zong Yan: …
He began to doubt whether this guy actually listened to anything.
“In fact, I have another suggestion. Why don’t we call Yog and Shub here to listen to your… beautiful performance.”
In order to appear more confident and conceal the fact that he’d disabled his hearing, after the Black Pharaoh applauded, he put forward a heartfelt suggestion.
As a professional troublemaker, Nyarla was an expert at diverting attention.
Sure enough, after hearing these two names, the black-haired teen immediately forgot his doubts.
Zong Yan: “They’re both busy. It’s not necessary.”
If the two evil gods missed out on such a fantastic performance it was clearly their loss! Right!
Instead of worrying about Nyarla, he carefully put the flute back into the dust bag. Humming happily, he began to prepare his dinner.
As Nyarlathotep watched him go, he experienced a rare desire to say something.
The Lord of the Universe didn’t have many passions, but the one he was most obsessed with was music and performing.
It was well known that Azathoth was the Blind Idiot Lord. But no matter how blind and idiotic he was, he could still manage to make a flute sound execrably grating, hideous, and abominable day after day, which really demonstrated his devotion to music.
… It was just that intelligent beings would go crazy at the sound of it, and even Outer Gods who weren’t strong enough would find themselves involuntarily joining in when they listened.
Otherwise, where do you think all those Outer Gods came from—the ones who did nothing but perform for Azathoth in his palace!!
Of course, entities like the three pillar gods wouldn’t be compelled by the sound of Azathoth’s flute, but that wonderful music would spontaneously echo in their heads for a long time, like a form of magical brainwashing.
It was probably the “light yellow dress, fluffy hair” type of brainwashing.
“Speaking of which, why did you buy a flute all of a sudden?”
“Oh, that.” Zong Yan added the washed broccoli to the pot of boiling water and waited for it to cook. “The day after tomorrow is the New Year’s ceremony. The part I’m performing on stage needs to play an instrument, so I chose the flute.”
After the New Year’s ceremony would come a blissful winter vacation. Since Zong Yan had just affirmed his artistic talent, he spoke with a hint of joy.
Nyarlathotep: “…”
He imagined the scene: the Father God’s stream of consciousness on stage, piping to the assembled teachers and students of the whole school. He made up his mind to never say anything to Zong Yan about it.
How fun would that be!
Nyarla, who was addicted to making trouble, decided to take Shub and Yog to see the show. He might even bring along a few other Outer Gods who had nothing better to do.
Hahahahahaha, it was so much fun to watch humans experience misfortune.
So the Black Pharaoh went back to the couch and continued to play games in a good mood.
Meanwhile, Zong Yan, who was dripping chili sauce on the broccoli with a spoon, didn’t notice a thing.
—
The day of the New Year’s ceremony soon arrived for all the Qingyang High School students who were so eagerly looking forward to it.
Qingyang High School had an auditorium that could accommodate thousands of people, and that was where the stage was set up.
To avoid occupying too much of the students’ time, the New Year’s ceremony would take place during the last two classes of the day. The students participating in the ceremony were given special permission not to attend the first class in the afternoon. For that reason, the students in Class 3 of senior three who were going to perform disappeared from school at noon.
Zong Yan ate a leisurely lunch, then wandered around backstage.
His role as Li Bai wasn’t complicated. Now that the weather was cold, the auditorium was heated, and a lot of actors were putting on makeup and hadn’t changed into their costumes yet.
Zong Yan happened to see Ye JingMing nearby. The basketball team was performing a demonstration, so the team members had to wear T-shirts.
In wintertime, Zong Yan always wanted to wrap himself into a plush ball. He took a look at Ye JingMing’s bare arms and shivered inside.
It’s so cold ah. This guy is really powerful.
Shaking his head, he turned around and went to change into his costume.
“Hold still. Let’s do some simple stage makeup.”
The dance teacher had to lead a group of teachers in a performance today, so the art teachers came over to work as guest makeup artists.
Zong Yan had just finished changing his clothes and picked up the hem to prevent himself from tripping. Then he was pushed into a chair over to the side.
“You’re so pale. You don’t really need foundation, do you?”
The makeup artist pulled over a light and looked at Zong Yan. He didn’t even grab the concealer, but took the highlighting stick and shadow powder and started applying them to Zong Yan’s face.
Zong Yan’s skin was the cold, pale type that everyone envied. It was odd, but this type of skin appeared more often in boys. When girls were pale they tended to have warmer skin tones.
A person wearing an ancient costume generally wouldn’t wear eye makeup because it would be too obvious when they stood in the light. But things were different on stage, where the lighting was so much more dramatic. The makeup had to be heavier to achieve the right effect.
So Zong Yan sat there and was fussed over for a while. His hair crown also took a long time to apply.
“There.” When he was done, the teacher looked at his work with satisfaction and also took two photos with him.
Outside there was already a sparse audience. All the students in the school would shortly gather in the auditorium to watch the performance.
The New Year’s ceremony of Qingyang High School was known to be creative and unique, so the municipal TV station broadcast it every year, and several media people had arrived to do the filming. They’d set up their cameras below the stage and were adjusting it, but from a distance it looked like they were carrying machine guns.
Zong Yan sneaked a glance from offstage. The crowd was a sea of heads. He couldn’t see the end of them.
For a rare moment he felt a little nervous.
Anyway, this was Zong Yan’s first time performing in front of so many people. The biggest thing he’d done before was give a speech under the national flag in primary school. He was a little nervous about participating in such a big show.
As he thought of this, his gaze, which was originally careless, suddenly stopped.
There were detailed seat assignments for the rows in the auditorium. For example, in the first row were the principal, vice principals, and the school board. In the second row were the teaching directors of each grade and the head teachers of each subject. Behind them were the teaching staff and invited parents, and finally the students in the back.
But what Zong Yan saw in the first row was an evil god with dark skin and a white coat, and another evil god with gray hair, golden eyes, and a white robe. When Zong Yan looked over at them, they looked back at him. One gave a cheerful smile while the other carelessly raised his eyes and returned his glance.
Zong Yan: …?
Help me understand this, did these two evil gods have nothing better to do today? Did they come out to experience the daily life of the common folk?
What was even more frightening was the fact that the two evil gods were sitting in the seats reserved for the school board.
Nyarla had the identity of the director of the Qingyang High School medical office, as Zong Yan knew. Anyway, it wasn’t like the evil gods had tampered with reality only once or twice. Just get used to it.
As for Yog-Sothoth, half a month ago this unlicensed tutor had single-handedly lowered Zong Yan’s physics score by ten points. Zong Yan hadn’t even seen his shadow since then. He suspected the guy had fled the scene of the crime. He really hadn’t expected to see him today.
This left Zong Yan rather confused.
What was so special about the Qingyang High School New Year’s ceremony? Why were these two evil gods so interested?
Really, aside from the villa where they lived, it was absolutely never a good thing when evil gods started to pile up. Like in the last incident in Jiangzhou, when the evil gods rushed over to watch.
Zong Yan hesitated.
—Was something about to happen here?
When he thought of this possibility and the thousands of students in the auditorium, he couldn’t calm down. He quickly reached into his pocket, crushed the Astrologer persona card, and took out his precious crystal ball to have a good look.
Surprisingly, no.
In the past few days Jiangzhou was quiet, like the investigator had said. The frequency of otherworldly attacks had decreased more and more.
Before, whenever Zong Yan looked at the crystal ball, he’d always seen some small red dots. But lately they were gone.
“Strange…”
Although he couldn’t figure it out, Zong Yan decided to be vigilant so that he could protect this imperiled world from the evil gods.
After he made up his mind, he crouched down and kept a close watch on the situation from the stage until Xia KeYan came over to him.
“Let’s go. After this act, we’re up.”
“Ah, so soon?” Zong Yan was stunned for a moment and nervously scanned the audience again. Then he straightened his clothes and went backstage.
“The next program is 《Three Hundred Poems》 presented by the Qingyang High School Calligraphy Club.”
After the emcee’s announcement, all the lights were dimmed. The sound of someone reading aloud began to reverberate in the auditorium along with some music. In the center, a projector displayed vigorous and magnificent handwriting under the command of the lead actor.
Zong Yan put his flute into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. He came out to the sound of music with a sword in his hand.
“It’s Li Bai!”
“So handsome!! It’s Senior Zong Yan!”
The projector behind him showed Li Bai’s heroic ethic. When the lights returned, the young man with black hair and white clothes stood at the side of the stage, causing numerous screams.
It was originally just a role for a vase. There wasn’t much of a scene to perform. All he had to do was stand on stage.
So many people were staring at him that Zong Yan almost couldn’t control his face, but he managed to endure it. He casually put his sword away, took out the flute and put it to his mouth, ready to start his performance.
“Oh wow, is he really going to play?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Look, someone just put a microphone next to him.”
Under the expectant eyes of the crowd, Zong Yan took a deep breath and put the flute to his mouth.
At the same time, the loudness of the musical accompaniment decreased, to set off the sound of the flute on the stage.
Everyone was watching with anticipation.
""
The next second, an unspeakable croaking noise came out from the flute and resounded through the auditorium.
How could this sound be described?
It lacked the melodiousness of music, and as for actual notes, it didn’t so much as approach them; it only made its audience feel they were listening to the most hideous thing in the world, a thing completely unrelated to the word “good”.
No, it wasn’t just that the word “good” was irrelevant, it was something that stood a world apart from music. It was the sound of someone scraping their fingernails on a chalkboard, like the worst sounding things in all the world had gathered together and rolled into one, combining to form a sensation that both choked you and made you gag.
‘Is it really possible for a flute to make such a sound?’
This was the question everyone wanted to ask, but unfortunately, they were no longer able to.
The moment the sound of the flute reached their ears, it was no longer just a sound, but transformed into something more profound, such as—consciousness.
Also known as the magical sound you could hear even when covering your ears.
The black-haired teen on the stage closed his eyes and blew into the flute as if mesmerized.
The people in the audience lost consciousness, and their eyes became lax. They were immediately hit by the mental intelligence degeneration aura.
“Hahahahahahaha—”
Nyarlathotep was convulsed with laughter, rocking back and forth, and even Yog hooked the corners of his mouth.
"
When the song ended, Zong Yan slowly put down the flute. He felt like he was born to play this piece of music.
Yes, it sounded so beautiful! The music of the flute was like a melody from heaven. Who else could play it but him? Who else!!
“How was it?”
With the flute in his hand, the black-haired teen looked excitedly at the Black Pharaoh, the only entity left in the living room.
The Black Pharaoh was one of the countless avatars of Nyarlathotep. He was a handsome man with dark skin and gorgeous robes.
He had a gamepad in his hand, his eyes were glued to the screen, and he didn’t respond to Zong Yan’s question.
Zong Yan couldn’t help but think that was a little strange. He knew the Haunter of the Dark and the Bloated Woman had just been here too, but he didn’t know why they all disappeared as soon as he began to play. As he thought about it, he began to walk over.
“Ah?”
When Zong Yan went over to the Black Pharaoh, the latter suddenly reacted. His expression was a bit confused.
“What do you think about what I just played?” Zong Yan asked very sincerely.
“Good, very good.” As if to prove the sincerity of his words, Nyarla put down the gamepad and clapped his hands.
Zong Yan: …
He began to doubt whether this guy actually listened to anything.
“In fact, I have another suggestion. Why don’t we call Yog and Shub here to listen to your… beautiful performance.”
In order to appear more confident and conceal the fact that he’d disabled his hearing, after the Black Pharaoh applauded, he put forward a heartfelt suggestion.
As a professional troublemaker, Nyarla was an expert at diverting attention.
Sure enough, after hearing these two names, the black-haired teen immediately forgot his doubts.
Zong Yan: “They’re both busy. It’s not necessary.”
If the two evil gods missed out on such a fantastic performance it was clearly their loss! Right!
Instead of worrying about Nyarla, he carefully put the flute back into the dust bag. Humming happily, he began to prepare his dinner.
As Nyarlathotep watched him go, he experienced a rare desire to say something.
The Lord of the Universe didn’t have many passions, but the one he was most obsessed with was music and performing.
It was well known that Azathoth was the Blind Idiot Lord. But no matter how blind and idiotic he was, he could still manage to make a flute sound execrably grating, hideous, and abominable day after day, which really demonstrated his devotion to music.
… It was just that intelligent beings would go crazy at the sound of it, and even Outer Gods who weren’t strong enough would find themselves involuntarily joining in when they listened.
Otherwise, where do you think all those Outer Gods came from—the ones who did nothing but perform for Azathoth in his palace!!
Of course, entities like the three pillar gods wouldn’t be compelled by the sound of Azathoth’s flute, but that wonderful music would spontaneously echo in their heads for a long time, like a form of magical brainwashing.
It was probably the “light yellow dress, fluffy hair” type of brainwashing.
“Speaking of which, why did you buy a flute all of a sudden?”
“Oh, that.” Zong Yan added the washed broccoli to the pot of boiling water and waited for it to cook. “The day after tomorrow is the New Year’s ceremony. The part I’m performing on stage needs to play an instrument, so I chose the flute.”
After the New Year’s ceremony would come a blissful winter vacation. Since Zong Yan had just affirmed his artistic talent, he spoke with a hint of joy.
Nyarlathotep: “…”
He imagined the scene: the Father God’s stream of consciousness on stage, piping to the assembled teachers and students of the whole school. He made up his mind to never say anything to Zong Yan about it.
How fun would that be!
Nyarla, who was addicted to making trouble, decided to take Shub and Yog to see the show. He might even bring along a few other Outer Gods who had nothing better to do.
Hahahahahaha, it was so much fun to watch humans experience misfortune.
So the Black Pharaoh went back to the couch and continued to play games in a good mood.
Meanwhile, Zong Yan, who was dripping chili sauce on the broccoli with a spoon, didn’t notice a thing.
—
The day of the New Year’s ceremony soon arrived for all the Qingyang High School students who were so eagerly looking forward to it.
Qingyang High School had an auditorium that could accommodate thousands of people, and that was where the stage was set up.
To avoid occupying too much of the students’ time, the New Year’s ceremony would take place during the last two classes of the day. The students participating in the ceremony were given special permission not to attend the first class in the afternoon. For that reason, the students in Class 3 of senior three who were going to perform disappeared from school at noon.
Zong Yan ate a leisurely lunch, then wandered around backstage.
His role as Li Bai wasn’t complicated. Now that the weather was cold, the auditorium was heated, and a lot of actors were putting on makeup and hadn’t changed into their costumes yet.
Zong Yan happened to see Ye JingMing nearby. The basketball team was performing a demonstration, so the team members had to wear T-shirts.
In wintertime, Zong Yan always wanted to wrap himself into a plush ball. He took a look at Ye JingMing’s bare arms and shivered inside.
It’s so cold ah. This guy is really powerful.
Shaking his head, he turned around and went to change into his costume.
“Hold still. Let’s do some simple stage makeup.”
The dance teacher had to lead a group of teachers in a performance today, so the art teachers came over to work as guest makeup artists.
Zong Yan had just finished changing his clothes and picked up the hem to prevent himself from tripping. Then he was pushed into a chair over to the side.
“You’re so pale. You don’t really need foundation, do you?”
The makeup artist pulled over a light and looked at Zong Yan. He didn’t even grab the concealer, but took the highlighting stick and shadow powder and started applying them to Zong Yan’s face.
Zong Yan’s skin was the cold, pale type that everyone envied. It was odd, but this type of skin appeared more often in boys. When girls were pale they tended to have warmer skin tones.
A person wearing an ancient costume generally wouldn’t wear eye makeup because it would be too obvious when they stood in the light. But things were different on stage, where the lighting was so much more dramatic. The makeup had to be heavier to achieve the right effect.
So Zong Yan sat there and was fussed over for a while. His hair crown also took a long time to apply.
“There.” When he was done, the teacher looked at his work with satisfaction and also took two photos with him.
Outside there was already a sparse audience. All the students in the school would shortly gather in the auditorium to watch the performance.
The New Year’s ceremony of Qingyang High School was known to be creative and unique, so the municipal TV station broadcast it every year, and several media people had arrived to do the filming. They’d set up their cameras below the stage and were adjusting it, but from a distance it looked like they were carrying machine guns.
Zong Yan sneaked a glance from offstage. The crowd was a sea of heads. He couldn’t see the end of them.
For a rare moment he felt a little nervous.
Anyway, this was Zong Yan’s first time performing in front of so many people. The biggest thing he’d done before was give a speech under the national flag in primary school. He was a little nervous about participating in such a big show.
As he thought of this, his gaze, which was originally careless, suddenly stopped.
There were detailed seat assignments for the rows in the auditorium. For example, in the first row were the principal, vice principals, and the school board. In the second row were the teaching directors of each grade and the head teachers of each subject. Behind them were the teaching staff and invited parents, and finally the students in the back.
But what Zong Yan saw in the first row was an evil god with dark skin and a white coat, and another evil god with gray hair, golden eyes, and a white robe. When Zong Yan looked over at them, they looked back at him. One gave a cheerful smile while the other carelessly raised his eyes and returned his glance.
Zong Yan: …?
Help me understand this, did these two evil gods have nothing better to do today? Did they come out to experience the daily life of the common folk?
What was even more frightening was the fact that the two evil gods were sitting in the seats reserved for the school board.
Nyarla had the identity of the director of the Qingyang High School medical office, as Zong Yan knew. Anyway, it wasn’t like the evil gods had tampered with reality only once or twice. Just get used to it.
As for Yog-Sothoth, half a month ago this unlicensed tutor had single-handedly lowered Zong Yan’s physics score by ten points. Zong Yan hadn’t even seen his shadow since then. He suspected the guy had fled the scene of the crime. He really hadn’t expected to see him today.
This left Zong Yan rather confused.
What was so special about the Qingyang High School New Year’s ceremony? Why were these two evil gods so interested?
Really, aside from the villa where they lived, it was absolutely never a good thing when evil gods started to pile up. Like in the last incident in Jiangzhou, when the evil gods rushed over to watch.
Zong Yan hesitated.
—Was something about to happen here?
When he thought of this possibility and the thousands of students in the auditorium, he couldn’t calm down. He quickly reached into his pocket, crushed the Astrologer persona card, and took out his precious crystal ball to have a good look.
Surprisingly, no.
In the past few days Jiangzhou was quiet, like the investigator had said. The frequency of otherworldly attacks had decreased more and more.
Before, whenever Zong Yan looked at the crystal ball, he’d always seen some small red dots. But lately they were gone.
“Strange…”
Although he couldn’t figure it out, Zong Yan decided to be vigilant so that he could protect this imperiled world from the evil gods.
After he made up his mind, he crouched down and kept a close watch on the situation from the stage until Xia KeYan came over to him.
“Let’s go. After this act, we’re up.”
“Ah, so soon?” Zong Yan was stunned for a moment and nervously scanned the audience again. Then he straightened his clothes and went backstage.
“The next program is 《Three Hundred Poems》 presented by the Qingyang High School Calligraphy Club.”
After the emcee’s announcement, all the lights were dimmed. The sound of someone reading aloud began to reverberate in the auditorium along with some music. In the center, a projector displayed vigorous and magnificent handwriting under the command of the lead actor.
Zong Yan put his flute into a hidden pocket in his sleeve. He came out to the sound of music with a sword in his hand.
“It’s Li Bai!”
“So handsome!! It’s Senior Zong Yan!”
The projector behind him showed Li Bai’s heroic ethic. When the lights returned, the young man with black hair and white clothes stood at the side of the stage, causing numerous screams.
It was originally just a role for a vase. There wasn’t much of a scene to perform. All he had to do was stand on stage.
So many people were staring at him that Zong Yan almost couldn’t control his face, but he managed to endure it. He casually put his sword away, took out the flute and put it to his mouth, ready to start his performance.
“Oh wow, is he really going to play?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Look, someone just put a microphone next to him.”
Under the expectant eyes of the crowd, Zong Yan took a deep breath and put the flute to his mouth.
At the same time, the loudness of the musical accompaniment decreased, to set off the sound of the flute on the stage.
Everyone was watching with anticipation.
""
The next second, an unspeakable croaking noise came out from the flute and resounded through the auditorium.
How could this sound be described?
It lacked the melodiousness of music, and as for actual notes, it didn’t so much as approach them; it only made its audience feel they were listening to the most hideous thing in the world, a thing completely unrelated to the word “good”.
No, it wasn’t just that the word “good” was irrelevant, it was something that stood a world apart from music. It was the sound of someone scraping their fingernails on a chalkboard, like the worst sounding things in all the world had gathered together and rolled into one, combining to form a sensation that both choked you and made you gag.
‘Is it really possible for a flute to make such a sound?’
This was the question everyone wanted to ask, but unfortunately, they were no longer able to.
The moment the sound of the flute reached their ears, it was no longer just a sound, but transformed into something more profound, such as—consciousness.
Also known as the magical sound you could hear even when covering your ears.
The black-haired teen on the stage closed his eyes and blew into the flute as if mesmerized.
The people in the audience lost consciousness, and their eyes became lax. They were immediately hit by the mental intelligence degeneration aura.
“Hahahahahahaha—”
Nyarlathotep was convulsed with laughter, rocking back and forth, and even Yog hooked the corners of his mouth.
"
