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In the midnight, Qiluo Ling woke up once again.
The darkness was silent and desolate, but upon closer listening, it seemed to be mixed with various sounds—beautiful melodies, the sighs of the dead, and uncontrollable laughter. It felt as if all the evils of the world would manifest during this boundless night.
Qiluo Ling closed her eyes, trying to return to the dream she had just experienced. Everything in the dream was still so vivid and realistic, as if under the bright light of a desk lamp, that monotonous nightmare was once again laid bare.
A young man in a black suit and white shirt sat before a black Steinway piano, playing. She knew who he was even with her eyes closed, but she couldn't hear what he was playing. However, she could see clearly that behind him stood a man in a blue suit. She didn't know when it happened, but the Blue-Clad Man suddenly had a dagger in his hand.
After the Young Man finished playing, he turned around to look at the dagger in the Blue-Clad Man's hand. He laughed loudly, throwing his head back in uncontrollable laughter, as if he already understood the Blue-Clad Man's intentions. The Young Man's throat and rolling Adam's apple were exposed to the Blue-Clad Man's gaze.
The Blue-Clad Man paused in this wild laughter for a moment but then quieted down, firming his resolve. He stepped forward and forcefully plunged the sharp dagger into the throat of the Man in Black. The neck of the man in black was cut open, the entire incision stretching from left to right like a mouth laughing wildly.
Bright red blood gushed out, splattering all over the Blue-Clad Man's face. The blood from the Man in Black didn't look like blood; it resembled burning flames. The flames splattered everywhere, igniting everything around them; everything in the room caught fire. But the flames spared only the blue-clad man...
Qiluo Ling wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and sat up. She had dreamed of the man in black many times; undeniably, he was her Great-Grandfather. But she also felt that she had seen the Blue-Clad Man somewhere before; his face was so familiar and so real. Yet for a moment, she couldn't recall where.
Qiluo Ling turned on the bedside lamp, and the orange light illuminated the entire bedroom. She surveyed her surroundings. The manor at midnight exuded an air of mystery and gloom. She had no idea how many years this ancient manor had stood. But regardless of its history, one thing was certain: it had witnessed the vicissitudes of time and the changes of worldly affairs, as well as evils lurking in darkness.
At that moment, she inadvertently glanced past the window and suddenly saw a face staring intently at her. But before she could clearly see that person's features, the face vanished abruptly. Then she heard those unpleasant heavy footsteps descending from the third floor staircase once again.
She hurriedly got out of bed, opened her door, and followed outside. The third floor had a circular structure; her room was located at one end of this circle while the staircase was at the center on the opposite side.
Qiluo Ling did not take a detour through the left corridor which was about sixty meters long. When she reached the staircase, that person had already gone downstairs, their heavy footsteps heading toward the second-floor corridor before disappearing into some rooms.
The manor in the night was eerily silent, as if it were dead. The people inside the villa were all asleep, except for her, of course, and the mysterious stranger.
Walking down the empty corridor on the second floor, Qiluo Ling felt the heavy and strange atmosphere that only the night could bring—a sense of darkness. A few odd windows along the hallway resembled a beast opening its dark mouth.
Every room on the second floor had its door tightly shut, each one concealing a patch of darkness. She approached each room to take a look.
Finally, Qiluo Ling arrived at the door of the Piano Room, which was slightly ajar. She gently pushed the door open.
The room was still dark, but thanks to the bright moonlight streaming in from outside, she could make out the general layout of the room.
The black grand piano lay quietly in the corner, with no one sitting on the bench, and certainly no one playing it.
However, there was someone in the room. A woman sat silently on the loveseat in the study, motionless and soundless.
To be precise, this person was a woman; she had long hair cascading down her shoulders, her facial features soft, and her figure slender.
The woman sat upright, her right hand resting naturally on her left wrist, her eyes fixed on the direction of the piano as if she were listening intently to beautiful music. Yet her facial expression was somewhat grim and terrifying. The corners of her mouth were stiff, her gaze hollow, and the smile that appeared on her face was an unnatural and rigid one. This smile carried an indescribable mocking quality, intertwined with pain and helplessness.
Qiluo Ling stood at the doorway while the woman remained seated on the sofa. Qiluo Ling looked at her; she looked toward the piano. Time seemed to freeze in that moment, stretching infinitely as a chilling mist filled the room with an icy coldness.
After a long while, it seemed that the woman sensed her presence; she turned her head to gaze directly at the doorway. It appeared as though she could see Qiluo Ling's existence, yet it also seemed like she did not see her at all.
They were so close to each other, yet it felt as if they lived in two different worlds—vividness versus black and white, brightness versus darkness, normalcy versus absurdity. Two entirely different worlds; but who resided in the light? Or perhaps they both existed within the dark world of Demonic Music?
After staring for a while, the woman turned her head, stood up, and walked towards the door of the room.
Qiluo Ling stepped aside, allowing her to exit first, then closed the door to the Piano Room and followed her out of the villa.
The estate was dark and silent at midnight. The long path twisted and turned, eerie and frightening. A sudden dark cloud rolled in, obscuring the moon, which could only cast a dim glow from behind the thick cloud cover.
The estate felt like a black coffin, suffocating. The Lawn, garden, artificial lake, and forest, which sparkled in the sunlight, now exuded an aura of death in the darkness, as if they were two entirely different places compared to their charming daytime appearance.
The wind rustled through the dense forest, producing a slow and heavy rustling sound. In the wind, there seemed to be tiny particles suspended in the air—whether it was dew or frost was unclear—but when they touched her skin, they raised small goosebumps.
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