In a twinkling, Ye Qingxuan blacked out. Then the crazy dark melody sounded in the minds of the two like a chorus of hundreds of people. The image of the black river, emerging from Ye Qingxuan’s heart, rushed into her brain.
It was the river of darkness that had been absorbing the guilt and negativity of countless people. At this moment, it was like a waterfall. Flowing with the plaintive melody and rhythm, it rushed into the battlefield of two emotions.
This was the strange movement Black Friday. It was not sinister but it was more powerful than that.
Having not fully played this movement for a long time, the black river of sighs had reached to a scale much larger than Ye Qingxuan’s expectations.