Old-time musicians

The carriage going home speeds through the night.

Joan sat back on the soft sofa in the carriage, using huge velvet pillows to prop herself up high.

Holding the railing with both hands, his little feet lifted off the ground, swinging back and forth, yawning endlessly.

After a while, she opened the curtain and looked at the strange outlines of the low houses on the street. She breathed out white mist, which was quickly blown away by the cold wind.

The temperature has dropped again before the arrival of early winter in Ufranseir.

"Well, we should be home soon." Qiong closed the curtain, took out the vial of 100% pure radiant spirit liquid that Mr. "Mendeleev" gave to her, put it back with a smile on her lips.

He then took out Fan Ning's "Death and the Maiden" string quartet score from the storage compartment under the sofa, and stared at the dedication under the title and Fan Ning's signature for a while.

Then he spread the score on his lap and read the second violin part carefully.

It sounds really good. Don’t be left behind.

She hummed happily while reading, tapping the fingers of her left hand on her right arm, imitating the fingering on the violin fretboard.

"Why do I feel like it took me a little longer to get home today than usual?"

Suddenly Joan frowned.

My home is also in the Nelenia district, just on the other side opposite to the University of San Lenia.

Counting from Cedar Plaza where they separated, it should be less than ten minutes' drive away.

She put down the music, opened and closed the curtain again.

Dotted gas lamps glow feebly in the night, and pedestrians walk in twos and threes with their necks tucked into their coats.

The low-rise houses are juxtaposed like a skewed hornet's nest. Each small room of the honeycomb is brightly lit, and a family of seven or eight or even ten people are crowded together, retreating quickly in their field of vision.

There seems to be no problem.

"How much longer, Uncle Gordon?" Qiong Jing said abruptly.

No one answered.

After a few seconds of pause, Qiong shouted again in a high voice that he did not usually use: "Uncle Gordon?"

"Da da da da da da"

The only answer she received was the same sound of horse hooves.

"Creak-" Qiong jumped off the sofa and pushed open the glass window bracket in front of the car.

There is no one on the horseback outside!

Can this car drive smoothly and fast?

A sudden chill arose all over Qiong's body, she closed the glass window with a bang and sat back on the sofa.

There was a cold feeling around the air, as if someone was peering at him from the dark.

There's something wrong in this carriage!

A look of fear appeared on her flawless face, she bit her lip, inspired her, moved her body with the back of her head, and leaned against the wall of the car behind the sofa.

The lavender fluorescent light flashed, and the walls of the carriage rippled like water. Qiong's petite body became blurred, and she fell straight through the wall!

She was already prepared to fall off the carriage and roll over on the ground, but unexpectedly she sat down on the sofa again.

It was still the same fast-moving carriage, but my position changed from the sofa on the left to the sofa on the right.

"Miss Purple Bean Cake, I didn't expect you to be so young." A polite old voice sounded.

Sitting on the sofa opposite Joan was a man wearing an old-fashioned dress, gray hair, and a black mask.

Although the tone on the other side didn't seem to be malicious, the strange atmosphere of the night made Joan want to escape. She inspired again and tried to escape through the wall behind her.

Under the purple light curtain, Qiong's body once again poked out from the rippled carriage wall.

But she found that she still landed on the sofa. The man was still opposite, but their left and right positions had been swapped again.

"It's just an illusion, don't be nervous." The man spoke again.

"Mr. Translator, are you looking for me? What's the matter?" Qiong clenched her fists and stared at the other person with vigilance.

"I'm in some trouble and need your help."

"Are you talking about my secret atmosphere formula that stabilizes the mind?"

"Yes."

"I...I said before that I will keep it for you until the next gathering. You can pay me part of the radiant spirit liquid first. If you don't need all of it, I can give it to you first." Qiong's expression relaxed a little.

The man in the old-fashioned dress sighed.

He didn't expect that the purple bean cake at the party was such a naive little girl, nor did he expect that at this juncture, she would still be foolishly agreeing with him on the content of the next transaction.

How did she become a wise person?

Although he prides himself on not being a bad person, if it weren't for the fact that the unknown thing that has been bothering him for many days has become more and more concrete, he would really not want to use force on this innocent little girl at the moment.

It’s not that I can’t afford the price, it’s just that I don’t have enough time.

Sylvia, that shrewd and cold-blooded hateful woman, reduced the supply of "Oil of Black Skeleton" because of a delay in her translation work.

However, my demand for this kind of raw material is increasing, and the cycle that can be suppressed each time is getting shorter and shorter.

If I had not studied the hidden knowledge of the Lord of Witnesses and arranged that damn "cocoon" secret ritual of continuous rebirth...

But, who doesn’t want to live a few more years?

Are you over sixty years old? I am only over sixty years old!

Why is life so short? Why! This garbage world! !

The "translator" lost control in his heart for a moment and screamed, then suppressed it, slowly took out his revolver, and in front of Joan, pressed the brass bullet without haste.

"Miss Zidougao, I don't want to do it, but you can't escape the illusion." He casually aimed the gun at the air, "I said it's against your head now, do you believe it?"

Qiong covered her open mouth.

Only then did she realize that this "translator" was not here to negotiate a deal with her.

As soon as he finished speaking, the "translator" suddenly twitched a few times, twisted his ankle and rubbed it on the ground, and then the whole person, like a puppet, moved a few short sections to one side, and then returned to normal.

Looking at this weird scene, coupled with the threatening words before, Qiong was so scared that she shrank into a ball, her eyes full of grievances. She reached into her pocket and fumbled, and said, "I'll give you the formula."

"I will pay you according to its value, Miss Zidougao." The "translator" didn't seem to notice his abnormal behavior just now, but was stunned for a short time.

"But I don't have time to make it myself. Please come with me. It will only take one day."

"No, no, no!" Hearing this, Qiong was so scared that she almost cried, "I have to go to school tomorrow, and I can't stay out all night..."

"Shut up!" The translator suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs. The dense scenes and wriggling double images in front of him turned his fear into mania. "Why the hell did I talk so much nonsense with you? Stand up quickly!"

Bean-sized tears began to fall from Qiong's eyes. She slowly stood up. At first, she sobbed once or twice, and then she sobbed faster and faster.

"Calm down, Mr. Translator, you scared me."

Fanning's low voice suddenly appeared in the car.

The cold barrel of the gun pressed against the side of the "translator's" head.