章 3: Birthday

編集者: Nyoi-Bo Studio

It was early in the morning.

The sounds of waves came from afar.

The morning sun shone at an angle from the end of the sea, and shed light onto the towering spire of the church. Above the spire, the sage's statue held a trombone, playing silently to the sky.

However, the angry roar that had started at the beginning of the night was still raging on in the church.

"Damn you, Eastern b*stard! I'm gonna kill you!!"

"Open up, Ye Qingxuan! If you have the guts to curse us, you'd better have the guts to open this door this instant!"

"You're dead, Ye Qingxuan! You know what? No one in the town of Lute can keep you safe!"

The three Thomas brothers banged angrily on the door of the church, holding hammers and shovels, cursing loudly. The beam of light from last night was like a slap on their faces, as well as their family's, in front of the entire town.

The worst part was that the little piece of garbage continued the light show with all sorts of curse methods, along with various other word choices. He had taken turns with all the languages that he had learned in the church to curse the Thomas family with the beam of light, and had cast it onto their front wall. It provided a vivid and refreshing language class for all the hooligans in the town.

Now the Thomas family didn't dare go out. No matter where they went, there would always be people murmuring behind their backs, "See that one? That's the son of a bitch Thomas."

"That damn Ye Qingxuan. Damn Eastern half-breed!"

But no matter how hard they cursed and roared, the church was still unresponsive. After a long time, they finally grew tired, threw some more threatening shouts, and then left in anger.

Outside the church, silence was restored, but within the chapel, the tall and slim priest's expressions was still cold.

The priest seemed to be old, but still burly--only his beard was silver. His face, as always, was indifferent. Whenever he bowed over others, his eyes were serious and harsh, and his voice was smoky, giving people great pressure.

In front of him stood two trembling teenagers and a large dog that looked like it was smiling.

"Victor you can go to the back for now." Father Bann waved, "I have something to say to Ye."

Thus, the blond teen felt that he was relieved of the pressure. He quickly picked up the dog and escaped, leaving the embarrassed Ye Qingxuan.

"Ye, you got in trouble again?" the priest asked coldly.

"Haha, not a chance, that Thomas misunderstood me." Ye Qingxuan looked away as he drew the holy emblem on his chest. "Under the teachings of the Church, I shall not do anything unrighteous."

Last night, his look had been indifferent, with his eyes assured, so he did everything calmly. But in front of the priest, he had a hard time keeping his calm face.

Only at times like this did he actually look like a teenager.

Since the beginning, everyone thought he was a quiet and smart child. He was calm and never caused mischief like the other kids his age. You only had to give him a book to read and he would quietly sit there all afternoon reading it. Since he had wandered here and was adopted by the church five years ago, he had always been the model 'kid-next-door' that was better than all the other kids. He had perfect grades and excellent manners. He was also gentle, kind and hardworking. Because he knew how to read, write, and organize, he was already the library administrator despite his young age, responsible for copying the scriptures. Plus, he also taught himself mechanical engineering in order to take on the lighthouse maintenance every month.

These are the very reasons that made him a bit of a headache.

Since he came to this town, sixty percent of teen fights had something to do with this seemingly harmless young man.

Though, he was the innocent victim every time.

"I heard that last night, there was a light from heaven shining down with horrible words written onto the Thomas family's wall all night long." The priest's tone was cold, "Ye, your mechanical structure was good, I'm pleased."

"Haha! That's because I learned from the best mentor. . ." Ye Qingxuan did not finish, as he could not continue through the priest's cold gaze.

"I have not taught you anything; these things you have learned on your own. You are a smart child, so I have always been very pleased, but you made a mistake this time." The priest said with a low voice, "The birth of mechanical technology was to help other people have a better life, not to give you a way to carry out revenge!"

The teen stood in silence, as he was not able to justify his own actions.

Like a silent resistance, his silence made the priest even more disappointed. The priest slowly shook his head.

"Ye, you can go now. I will explain this to the mayor; however, as discipline, you will not have lunch this week." The priest waved, dismissing him. "I hope you recognize your own mistakes. You have always been a qualified apprentice, but your actions last night made me very disappointed."

"Thank you for your forgiveness." Ye Qingxuan bowed to leave, but the priest stopped him.

He turned his head and saw the priest's iron grey eyes staring at him.

"Ye, never mess with the lighthouse again." The voice of the priest was still cold, with no concern nor compassion, the same as always. "If someone insults your parents, you can come find me."

Ye Qingxuan was stunned for a moment, and scratched his head, then let out an embarrassing laugh.

"No thanks." He then whispered to himself, "Why bother adults with childish things?"

In the backyard of the church, next to the fountain, Victor saw his friend coming back in low spirits. He cracked up, laughing with joy.

"Hey, Yezi, finished getting a lesson in discipline? How was it?"

He and Ye Qingxuan were both orphans raised by the church. Victor had it better though, because he was at least half local. His father was said to have been a Lord who tried to commit suicide because of poor investments and bankruptcy. The huge debt had left Victor wandering the streets, where only the church would take him in.

But two years later, Victor moved out due to conflicts with the priest.

Now, he used his own fists to gain the position of a pier manager, who pumped water for people to make his living. His days were happy and simple; free from the troubles of learning transvribing skills or theology.

Occasionally, Ye Qingxuan came to him, and Victor would leave his job to help him cause trouble or fight together. Sometimes he gloated about not getting in trouble with the priest.

For example, he imitated the expression and tone of the priest now, pointing at Ye Qingxuan and saying, "I'm gonna hang you up, sinful child, and hit you!"

"Then you'd have been killed many times."

"No way, I run really fast. He'd never get to me!" Victor proudly arched an eyebrow. "Honestly, the priest's rules have long been outdated. You're the only one that listens to that huckster talk. In this world, if you want to do big things and succeed, counting on the teachings of God won't be of any help. Old Phil, Old Phil, do you think I'm right?"

The big dog was awakened by Victor's strokes, and used his tail to hit him since he was annoyed. Victor, who had suddenly noticed his mistake, massaged the dog to flatter him. "Don't be angry. Don't be angry, I know you own all the credit."

Old Phil was disturbed so badly that it could not go back to sleep. It rolled its eyes at the two teens, got up, jumped into the fountain, and rolled around. It quickly climbed out, splashing water droplets onto the faces of the two next to it.

Finally satisfied, it wagged its tail in an elegant manner, like an emperor coming out from his hot bath.

The whole process was amazingly natural and as easy as drifting clouds or flowing water.

"Old Phil is looking better by the day. Where'd he learn all these expressions?" Ye Qingxuan asked.

"How should I know? He looked like that when I was ten and saw him for the first time."

Indeed, Ye Qingxuan had been really wondering for quite some time, where did it get that temperament?

It was not good looking, its fur was everywhere, and its eyes and expressions had an air of arrogance that you could only see in some Anglo ministers. It walked like a king in his palace, with its chest out and its head high, inexplicably majestic and dignified. One could hardly ignore it-- at least Ye Qingxuan and Victor couldn't. The two who were bitten once dared not to do it again.

"Alright, I'll have to go first. I won't disturb you anymore." Victor got up from the ground and tapped Ye Qingxuan on his shoulder. "Some newcomers came. It seemed that they wouldn't like to listen. I will have to reason things out to them."

"Don't keep fighting. Come back to work in the church."

"No thanks! I really can't get along with the priest."

Victor skillfully climbed the wall and waved Ye goodbye. On the wall, he suddenly remembered something, turned, and waved, "One thing, Yezi."

"What?"

"Eh, happy birthday! I'm poor, so I can't buy you a gift."

Ye Qingxuan helplessly shook his head. "Then I'll wait for a gift from you when you have succeeded and become famous."

"Then you'll have to wait a few years." Victor grinned and jumped over the wall. His voice reached over from afar, "Relax! I won't keep you waiting for too long."

Silence in the backyard was once again restored; only the birds whispered in the trees.

Ye Qingxuan looked up to the sky and raised his hand. He turned the ring on his index finger towards the sun. It glittered brightly, lighting up the eyes of the young man.

"Little Yezi, happy birthday."

He laughed softly. Right next to him, an old and ugly yellow dog tapped him with its tail, as if it was beating out the tune for his silent birthday song.

I wish you a happy birthday, although this birthday is not happy.

It was Ye Qingxuan's seventeenth birthday today. It also marked the fifth year since he came to the town.

His Eastern descent was actually quite rare in the entirety of the Anglo Kingdom. His standard Eastern white hair and black eyes attracted people's attention no matter where he went. Fortunately, in this world, more bizarre and strange hair and eye colors existed.

Having white hair made some people call him an 'Eastern Orphan,' but that was all.Some rude people would call him a 'bastard'. But these were only a few people, especially after Victor went to live outside of the church.

When the retaliation and fights were over, they had to do their jobs.

For example, he was now working in the church as a scribe.

The work for today was to copy the monthly papers in the church sent to the prayer room from the Sacred City. Every month, the Sacred City would collect news and information, then send them to churches in different places through special links that were connected by aether.

These messages were basically as thick as half of a book when compiled together. Among them was information about the rates of gold and national currencies, the progress of the development of relics from the dark ages, the latest disasters, the local outbreak of the results of the war, and the movements of some musicians.

What Ye Qingxuan needed to do was to use the translating codes to translate the monthly news. He also needed to pick out news that could be published, copy it, and post it on the bulletin board.

Today, he was so shocked that he stopped at the first page.

"King of Black — Bach?"

He looked down at the code, "A new record?"

In the monthly reports, the mysterious Mr. Bach had appeared in the southern desert area, and stopped in front of the 'Catastrophe Bahamut.'

Two months ago, the church predicted that the calamity would once again be reborn from the dark world and would be ready to sweep across the territories of mankind.

But no one thought this duel would come so fast.

The battle lasted for half an hour, then the king of the storm, Bahamut, was once again defeated and returned to the dark world to sleep.

Yet, Mr. Bach left only a short message and disappeared without trace, leaving countless musicians who had rushed to the Death Desert with sighs of regret.

Unfortunately, they had missed the strongest.

'Bach'—this was a holy name from the Dark Age; only the strongest, most recognized contemporary Western musicians could get the glory of this title. They were called the 'King of Black' of the three kings.

Between the three kings, the holy name 'Beethoven, the King of the Red' could only be inherited among the popes. 'Mozart, King of the Yellow' had always been passed down a family. Only 'Bach, King of Black' was accessible to the musicians who expected to win the crown.

Only the strongest could earn such a glory.

In history, the three kings made their first appearance hundreds of years ago when the Mother of Darkness Crusade was happening. After the war was over, the Mother of the Darkness was expelled to the ice field of the North Sea, far away from the human hinterland.

At that time, 'Matthaus Passion,''Destiny,' and 'Requiem' mobilized an unprecedented mass of aether, thus dividing the whole plain into three.

On that day, the whole world was able to hear the grandeur of the coming of the angels of God.

The aftermath of the war, half a month after the tsunami went to the East, almost sank Yingzhou Island into the sea, creating a new island along the western border. Later, this was called the Eastern overseas enclave—Yunlou, the Tower of Clouds.

Until now, hundreds of years after the dark age had ended, countless musicians fought forward, but the three kings were still the undisputed human guardians.

"Ye, do not be distracted."

A cold voice came from behind him. The fascinated teenager had awoken from his daydream. Father Bann was standing behind him. "Your work today is not finished yet."

"Oh, okay." Ye Qingxuan smiled in embarrassment. He dipped his quill in some ink and began to continue.

The priest looked at him silently and turned away. He began to head out, but paused and looked back at Ye Qingxuan.

"Ye, you should know very well." His voice was cold and cruel. "You do not have that qualification."

Ye Qingxuan's hand shook, causing him to draw a line with a frightened shudder, looking like a scar that had been frozen.

He finally came back to himself after a long time and found that Father Bann had already left. He looked down at his right hand, his thumb rubbing the ring. The ring felt so warm and gentle, as if it were netted by some wire.

"I know," he whispered, as if he had to deny something, but somewhat depressingly. "I know."

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