The atmosphere suddenly became very strange. Soon, Long Yin's majestic voice completely broke the atmosphere and quickly diverted everyone's attention, "Lin Xiao, Wuchen won this painting competition. Are you convinced?"
Lin Xiao lowered his head and said, "I am already convinced, and now I am even more convinced."
Long Yin nodded and said, "Then, let's start the second round!" After thinking for a while, he said, "Lin Xiao, I heard that you have always carried the flute with you since you were a child, and your attainments in the flute have reached the acme of perfection. I wonder if this rumor is true or false?"
"Your Majesty, this rumor is naturally true. Lin Xiao's name has the word 'xiao' in it, which is homophonic with the word 'flute'. He was fated with the flute since he was a child. He loved the flute as much as his life, and he would play the flute every day. No matter where he goes, he always carries the flute with him. Not only can it be released at any time, but it can also be used as a sword in times of crisis. Among all the things that Lin Xiao has learned, the flute is the best. "Lin Xiao said, and then he took out a white jade flute from his sleeve. He still carried a flute in this kind of situation and in the previous competition. It could be seen that the saying that he always carried the flute with him was not false.
"Very good, rumor has it that your flute skills are unparalleled in the world. Every time you play the flute alone, the birds passing by and the insects on the ground will gather around you and refuse to leave. But except for your family, no one has ever been lucky enough to enjoy this sound and this scenery. Since you happen to have a flute with you, then the second round will be the flute competition! I can also listen to the true sound of the flute with my own ears. Are you sure you can beat him? "Long Yin said.
Long Yin was right. There had always been rumors in Sky Dragon City that the Lin family's Lin Xiao's attainments in the flute had reached the supreme realm. His sound seemed to come from the heavens. When he blew it on the river bank, it would attract wild beasts, big and small, to gather around him, unwilling to leave for a long time. These myths and legends were often talked about by people, but almost no one had ever seen them. Among the people present, except for a few members of the Lin family, no one else had ever heard of his flute music. For a moment, they were filled with anticipation and excitement. Lin Xiao himself had just said that among all the skills he had learned, the flute was the best. How could he be someone who would make irresponsible remarks?
Lin Xiao lightly held the flute with both hands, his right hand gently caressing it, as if it was not a white jade flute, but a lover whom he had spent his entire life with. He said absentmindedly, "This flute is called the Red Dust Dream. It used to be my mother's personal possession. She had always regarded it as important as her own life. When I was three years old, my mother passed away due to illness. Before she died, she gave this flute to me … This was the only thing my mother gave me before she died. After she passed away, I cried for three days and three nights, swearing to never leave this flute."
He heaved a sigh of relief and held up the white jade flute with both hands. He said softly, "Every time I think of my mother, I will play this flute. For the past seventeen years, I have never stopped playing it. Over time, his feelings and thoughts melded into it. Two years ago, he even had the subtle feeling of his heart melding into it. It knows my heart, and I know its heart. In this life … I will never leave or abandon it. I have never competed with anyone in the music of the flute, because no one is worthy. How can the vulgar sounds of the world be compared to the sound of my Red Dust Dream. Playing it in the same room. "
The expression on Lin Xiao's face was one of nostalgia and pride, but it did not make people feel that he was exaggerating. This stemmed from his dedication and feelings towards the flute. His level of control over the flute had long surpassed the understanding of ordinary people.
"Today, for the honour of my Lin family, I, Lin Xiao, will use this flute to — — change into many forms. The scene in front of them also changed dramatically. The sound of the flute was mixed with the air of an icy spring. Sometimes it was like layers of waves pushing forward, sometimes it was like snowflakes fluttering in the air, sometimes it was like a whirlwind in a canyon, suddenly it was like the Milky Way quietly flowing in the middle of the night …
The sound of the flute changed again, becoming sobbing and complaining. It was as if people were listening to the beautiful singing of a young girl. In their hearts, the figure of the young girl gradually appeared more and more clearly. She was only seven or eight years old. She gracefully walked over step by step, but no matter how she walked, she could not really get close.
A warm wind blew, the warm sunlight sprinkled down, peach blossom petals suddenly danced in the air with the wind. The ground under the feet of the woman was covered with green grass and wildflowers, covering the ground in a dark green, dotted with a myriad of purple and red. This was the beauty of spring.
A cool breeze blew, and the little girl turned into a woman in her twenties. Her lips curved into a smile as she danced gracefully. The scorching sun hung high in the sky, all living things flourished, the world flourished, this was the atmosphere of summer.
A bleak wind blew, the young girl in the wind turned into a middle-aged woman who gradually lost her elegance. She no longer sang, no longer danced, just silently walked over step by step, her footsteps calm and steady. The lush green land at this time also began to turn yellow, all living things began to slowly decline in spite of heaven and earth's desire to retain them. This was the depression of autumn.
A cold wind blew, and the woman turned into an old woman with white hair on her temples. Her footsteps became unsteady, and her once beautiful eyes also became dirty, but she still forced herself to stand, resolutely stepping on the thick snow, step by step. The sun lost its scorching heat, the earth had completely lost its vitality, covered by pure white snow, and also covered all the beauty and hope that had once existed. Finally, that unsteady figure finally fell in the cold wind of wind and snow, until her body was covered by the white snow, and her figure could no longer be seen. This was the end of winter.
The sound of the flute stopped at this moment, and what was fixed in people's hearts was the final world of pure white snow, because that was the final destination of a person, the end of life that no one could escape.
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