Ningyan lifted the flute, deliberately avoiding Yan Wuhen's gaze.
Across from him, the nine-tailed fox stood unnaturally still, nine crimson tails swaying lazily behind him. Yet the anticipation radiating from him was impossible to hide. His eyes glittered like molten gold, focused solely on Ningyan.
Ningyan lowered his lashes.
Then, the flute touched his lips.
The first note drifted into the snowy courtyard. It was.... soft, pure, and crystal clear.
The melody floated through the falling snow like flowing mist, weaving itself between the frozen branches. The cold winter wind answered the song, lifting their robes and hair into graceful arcs. It was the exact melody he had played back in his past days at the Celestial Beast Academy.
Yan Wuhen's breathing stopped. "...Yan'er..."
His whisper disappeared into the music. Every single note was painfully familiar.
