What was carved into the stone tablet wasn’t actually text at all—it was musical notation!

They were precisely those same twelve notes from the sea valley of the Qinse Mountains. Ziqing wasn’t the only one present who had seen those notes from the sea valley, but she was the only one who could recognize them here.

Of the twelve notes from the sea valley of the Qinse Mountains, six had been recorded using abbreviated notation, and six using gongche notation.

In truth, only those deeply versed in music theory—people like Xuanyuan Lige and Ziqing—could truly read them; anyone else who’d seen them could only remember their shapes.

But here, even Jun Beiyue couldn’t recognize that these twelve symbols on the stone tablet were the exact same twelve from the sea valley of Qinse.

Because the six symbols that had been recorded in abbreviated notation at the sea valley had here been swapped into gongche notation, while the ones recorded in gongche notation had been swapped into abbreviated notation.

So only Ziqing, versed in musical notation, could recognize that these twelve notes were identical to those twelve notes from the sea valley.

For these twelve notes to appear here, in the Ancient Music Cavern—Ancient Music, ancient music—there had to be some secret connected to Lishang here.

Only, Ziqing couldn’t understand what any of this had to do with that totem.

The totem etched onto her own face—beyond marking her identity, what else did it foretell? Seen on the stone tablet, the totem looked ancient and mysterious, but on her own face, it was… she’d once forced herself past her revulsion to examine it carefully.

The totem on her face was innate, not something carved on afterward!

At this thought, her small hand instinctively brushed against the side of her face. Looking at the woman before her—even the Empress of Eastern Qin, well past her prime, was still so strikingly beautiful—a shadow of gloom passed unconsciously through Ziqing’s eyes.

She didn’t want to dwell on it. She quickly lowered her hand, murmuring softly, “Beiyue, these twelve notes are exactly the same as the ones from the sea valley of Qinse. Once we reach the altar, remember everything connected to the music!”

Jun Beiyue was mildly surprised, quite confident in his own memory. Still, he said, “Don’t worry, even sacred music I can memorize.”

Ziqing was puzzled—this man had never been particularly versed in music theory. How would he manage it?

There wasn’t much time to spare. Jun Beiyue murmured quietly, “Be careful with everything. Don’t worry about me.”

“You too!” Ziqing’s heart warmed. She had always been someone who did as she pleased, never worrying about anyone else—until she’d met him, and once she’d chosen him, he’d become her one and only concern.

And hadn’t Jun Beiyue felt exactly the same way about her?

Jun Beiyue smiled and finally released her hand. All the men followed the Prince of Nanzhao to the right, while all the women followed Consort Qin to the left.

The deeper they walked into the cave, the less sunlight there was; even with the lamps lit, the surroundings remained quite dim.

Soon, before Jun Beiyue appeared a massive circular altar, enclosed by stone walls a little taller than a person, arranged in concentric rings. At the very center stood five or six stone stools—the seats meant for listening to the sacred music.

Jun Beiyue noticed that these concentric stone walls were entirely made of jade, their surfaces smooth and pale, without a single blemish. Nanzhao was known as a land rich in jade, but even Jun Beiyue, who had seen no shortage of treasures, was somewhat startled by the scene before him.

None of the stone walls bore any markings at all. This place felt profoundly sacred—the longer one stayed, the more a sense of tranquility settled over the mind, until speaking felt entirely unnecessary.

No one spoke. Everyone silently followed the Prince of Nanzhao all the way to the center of the white jade altar and found their seats.

The Prince of Nanzhao, grave-faced the entire way, finally allowed a smile to surface, his expression turning quite peaceful. Seeing his smile, the Medicine Clan leader smiled faintly as well, saying, “Everyone, welcome to the sacred altar of the Ancient Music. May the Moon God cleanse the dust from your hearts, and may the light of beauty illuminate the shadows within your souls.”

Rain fell. With a soft “poof,” every lamp around them suddenly extinguished at once, plunging everything into darkness.

Just then, something miraculous happened. A beam of light shone down from directly overhead, drawing Jun Beiyue’s gaze upward instinctively—within that beam, not a single speck of dust could be seen in the air. What kind of purity was this place blessed with?

It was impossible to tell from which direction it came, but an elegant, ethereal voice gradually drifted through the air, seeming to emanate from that very beam of light overhead, yet also somehow materializing directly beside one’s ears, lingering there like music from some western paradise—elegant, noble, ethereal, pure, defying any words that could describe it. One thing was certain: no matter how restless the heart, this sacred music could bring it entirely to peace.

Jun Beiyue found himself stunned for a long while, only slowly regaining his composure, marveling at the beauty of this sacred music. But he also understood clearly—this sacred music was a soul-capturing melody.

He glanced around at everyone else, only to find that, without his noticing, they had all closed their eyes, completely immersed in the world woven by the sacred music.

The melody of this sacred music alone could ensnare a person’s very soul—combined with centuries of religious reverence, it was no wonder the Nanzhao royal family had never uncovered the truth behind it.

Ziqing must be listening to her own sacred music by now, he thought. Even he, resistant as he was, had felt its pull—how much more so would Ziqing, that musical prodigy?

Still, he wasn’t certain whether Ziqing would be able to discern if this sacred music, like the one at Qinse Mountains, was a natural sound, or whether someone was hidden away somewhere, playing it deliberately.

The tone sounded like bells, but to strike out such a melody, how could anyone possibly control the force with such precision?

Jun Beiyue pondered this, surveying everyone present one by one, a cold smile flickering unconsciously across his eyes. He rose carefully, watched for a long while, then turned to look behind him, tilting his ear to listen, as if trying to trace the source of the sound.

The moment he turned his back, the Second Beast Young Master slowly opened his eyes, his tongue flicking wickedly across his lips, and without a sound, suddenly bared his teeth—looking exactly like a beast about to sink its fangs into prey, ready to tear Jun Beiyue apart in a single bite.

Jun Beiyue, his back turned, was intently studying the stone wall ahead, seemingly entirely oblivious to everything.

A malicious gleam flickered in the Second Beast Young Master’s eyes, devilish and vile. He let out a soft breath, as if signaling something, and in an instant, countless hawks swooped down from the mountaintop, instantly blotting out the cavern’s opening—and that single beam of light vanished at once.

The light disappeared, but the sacred music continued.

Those enchanted by the sacred music remained immersed in it, showing no signs of stirring awake. For a moment, everything went dark—the Second Beast Young Master couldn’t be seen, and neither could Jun Beiyue.

The entire altar fell utterly silent, save for the sacred music echoing endlessly through the darkness.

The Second Beast Young Master’s savage, beast-like eyes flickered on and off in the dark. Having grown up among beasts since childhood, he’d inherited no small number of their advantages—even in total darkness, he could clearly sense Jun Beiyue’s presence, using it to pinpoint exactly where he stood.

That presence remained fixed right in front of him. The Second Beast Young Master smiled, baring both fangs at once.

In his heart, he roared: Jun Beiyue, die!

You want to know the secret of the Ancient Music Cavern? Then I’ll make sure you die right here in this cavern. Without you, there is no Da Zhou—and without Da Zhou, the kingdom of Nanzhao can stand entirely on its own.

This young master wants nothing less than chaos and war—the beastfolk’s countless beasts trampling the entire Longyuan continent flat beneath them!

At last, the Second Beast Young Master slowly lifted his leg, and with a savage lunge, kicked with brutal force straight toward where Jun Beiyue stood…