The dark wailing music was still continuing in the basement, but Ye Qingxuan had sunk into confusion again. He had felt the soul of the dark piece of music, but what was the soul like? He had found the essence hidden in the melody, but he could not describe it!
As the melody resounded, Ye Qingxuan focused on one question: what exactly is guilt? As he fell into a daze, uncontrolled aether was pulled by the melody, gathering from all directions. It was like fog but also like light. The layers of apparitions hovered in the basement, unable to form a solid shape. Because Ye Qingxuan had never thought about what guilt looked like, he still could not find the true nature of the essence.
Was it cold rain? An eerie breeze blew through the basement. Cold water vapor solidified near the corner of the wall and vanished quickly afterward.