Baili Weisheng didn’t finish his sentence, but Xuanyuan Lige didn’t seem to mind, saying flatly, “Met an ill end?”

At these words, all three of them present became certain of one thing: this fellow could not possibly be fake, could not possibly be an illusion — he was the real, true Xuanyuan Lige!

The Parting Melody was a piece hidden within the Wuzheng, a composition Xuanyuan Lige had created long ago. If the person before them were not the true, real Xuanyuan Lige, but merely the illusory Xuanyuan Lige created by the enchanted music, then every word and action of his would have been predetermined long in advance — so how could he possibly know that he himself had met a terrible end in the cave on Jade Crystal Mountain in Nanzhao?

What exactly was going on!

“You’re not dead?” Ziqing couldn’t help but blurt out. This was the outcome she had wished for above all else — she had once prayed silently, again and again, that if only Xuanyuan Lige could come back to life, she would gladly give anything in effort, no matter how hard — and yet reality had never given her the chance to try.

Faced with Ziqing’s joyful surprise, Xuanyuan Lige wished so badly he could tell her he wasn’t dead, could let this foolish woman be happy for once — but how could he possibly not be dead?

In that cave on Jade Crystal Mountain, he had met a terrible end — not even his bones had been left behind.

Looking at the three shocked faces before him, Xuanyuan Lige gave his sleeve a light sweep, and as though by magic, instantly conjured a tea table, chairs, the fragrant aroma of tea curling through the air — all of it so real.

“Sit. It’s a long story.”

As he spoke, he lifted the hem of his robe and sat down, personally pouring tea for the three of them.

Never mind Ziqing and Baili Weisheng — even Jun Beiyue, normally so composed, couldn’t hide his shock, slowly settling down beside the tea table, realizing that everything conjured here felt real enough to be frightening.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“This piece is called ‘Sorrow of Parting.’ I composed it in imitation of ‘Parting Sorrow’…”

At this point, Ziqing couldn’t help but ask, “The sound we’re hearing right now — is that still me playing?”

From the very start until now, the sound of the zither had lingered in her ears without pause — the Xuezheng’s voice, playing precisely the piece Xuanyuan Lige had left behind, namely “Sorrow of Parting.”

“Yes!” Xuanyuan Lige nodded. “You can hear the music, and you all know this is an illusion — which means this piece is not an enchanting melody.”

Though they were desperate to understand what was happening, especially desperate to know why the Xuanyuan Lige before them was real, hearing his first words, Ziqing and the others already had a vague guess that this matter was inseparably tied to “Parting Sorrow.”

“Then what exactly is all this…” Jun Beiyue asked, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know what to make of it myself. Back then, I imitated some of the patterns from the climactic section of ‘Parting Sorrow’ to compose this piece. I had originally intended to make it an enchanting melody, and the illusion I designed for it was this very place — the Innocence Ravine. But…”

Xuanyuan Lige paused, then continued, “But, I don’t know why — even though my body no longer exists, my soul somehow appeared here, and can even command everything within this place.”

As Xuanyuan Lige spoke, his sleeve brushed across the table, and a guzheng materialized out of nowhere — none other than Ziqing’s own Wuzheng!

Ziqing gasped sharply, and after testing a few notes, found that its tone matched the real Wuzheng exactly!

“It’s just that I can’t conjure a person,” Xuanyuan Lige said helplessly. “Although this isn’t an enchanting melody, I’ve been waiting all this time — waiting for you to be able to play it out.”

As Xuanyuan Lige spoke, he looked toward Baili Weisheng, his gaze filled with gratitude. This fellow might seem unreliable on the surface, but he was more dependable than anyone.

“Though it’s not an enchanting melody, not only has the listener entered the illusion, but even the player has entered — and yet, without being deceived by the illusion, knowing full well that all of this is false,” Jun Beiyue murmured to himself.

This whole affair was nothing short of a mystery!

Even Xuanyuan Lige, who had composed this riddle with his own hands, couldn’t explain it.

Xuanyuan Lige nodded, hesitating for a moment before speaking. “So, I suspect…”

Before he could finish, Ziqing cried out, cutting him off. “‘Parting Sorrow’ will take us home, where there is no grief!”

Could it be that this was the true secret of “Parting Sorrow”?

Something akin to the secret of an enchanting illusion!

Jun Beiyue and Baili Weisheng both had a sudden flash of understanding, seeming to grasp something — but Xuanyuan Lige didn’t follow. “What do you mean?”

“We gathered together every missing note of ‘Parting Sorrow,’ the string of musical codes from the Sea Valley of Zither and Se — and the meaning was precisely that line, the message the zither master of the deserted island left for those who came after. He said ‘Parting Sorrow’ would take us home, where there is no grief!” Ziqing explained excitedly.

She had never been able to understand why the deserted island had vanished without a trace, why not even the descendants of the Nanzhao royal house had ever managed to find it, and even less why a single piece of music, “Parting Sorrow,” could hold such a secret within it.

She’d never imagined that sound could give birth to illusion, that sound could seize the soul!

Hearing Ziqing’s explanation, Xuanyuan Lige understood at once, laughing helplessly. “It seems ‘Parting Sorrow’ is, after all, meant to be played out fully.”

“Is that possible?” Jun Beiyue asked, clearly somewhat urgent.

A flicker of warmth passed through Ziqing’s eyes as well, and she asked, “Is it still possible?”

Ziqing, being well versed in the score, could tell that the Sorrow of Parting lingering in their ears was already nearing its end — once the piece finished, surely the illusion would vanish, and only Xuanyuan Lige would be left here, alone.

Xuanyuan Lige fell silent. He had guarded this place alone for so long, and the one thing he pondered every single day was “Parting Sorrow.”

Seeing him fall silent, Ziqing and the others quieted as well, waiting.

If they were to play “Parting Sorrow” together, there was no question — it would have to be here, within this enchanted illusion, playing alongside Xuanyuan Lige.

Which meant Ziqing would not only need to play “Sorrow of Parting,” but would also, simultaneously, within the illusion, need to play “Parting Sorrow” itself.

After a long moment, Baili Weisheng finally spoke, his voice flat. “To play the entirety of ‘Parting Sorrow’ would take seven days and seven nights. But the piece ‘Sorrow of Parting’ doesn’t even last a full hour.”

Even if Ziqing could bear the pressure, there simply wasn’t enough time.

Xuanyuan Lige’s brow furrowed, clearly wanting to say something, yet holding back.

At this point, Jun Beiyue spoke up. “This piece, ‘Sorrow of Parting,’ seems to function like a kind of passage — it’s what brought us here. If ‘Sorrow of Parting’ was made in imitation of ‘Parting Sorrow,’ could it be that ‘Parting Sorrow’ itself is also a passage — one that could take us to the deserted island?”

At these words from Jun Beiyue, Ziqing and Baili Weisheng both froze — while Xuanyuan Lige remained calm, smiling faintly and nodding at Jun Beiyue. He had suspected the very same thing.

The people of the deserted island had been led by the zither master into an illusory realm conjured by “Parting Sorrow.”

That was why the zither master had left behind that line — “Parting Sorrow” will take you home.

This theory suddenly brought clarity to the entire matter — and yet, it remained, after all, only a theory.

If Xuanyuan Lige were not merely a solitary soul at this moment, if he were still alive, he could play the piece together with Ziqing, and verify their theory.

Unfortunately, Xuanyuan Lige existed only within the illusion of “Sorrow of Parting” — existing only for the duration of a single piece of music.

Such a theory was thrilling, and yet reality, too, was helplessly frustrating. The four of them looked at one another, and all fell silent.

Then, suddenly, Ziqing cried out in alarm, “No — it’s ending!”

Ending?

Before anyone could quite process this, the sound of the zither in their ears abruptly cut off!