A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 159 The Pizza Girl's Arcane Festival Dream (5)

"You son of a bitch."

It was more than two years ago, a distant afternoon that seems like a lifetime ago.

The keyboard clicks stopped as he tidied his bed and luggage. His lazy voice betrayed his grumbling through gritted teeth: "Damn it, that 'Pampered Ring' has been following me all afternoon, and when it can't beat me, it just disconnects! It's a disgrace to the whole family!"

He was probably playing a game; he didn't turn around.

During my four years of university, I didn't have much luggage. An old iPhone, a laptop that would whir as soon as it was turned on, and a framed photo of me with my grandmother were all stuffed into my suitcase. Leaving school meant graduation.

Oh, and there's a diploma, but that's not very important. He just filled in his major randomly; his parents wanted him to study accounting, so he filled in accounting.

"...You're already packing?"

The roommate behind me seemed to call my name, but the system's deletion was thorough, leaving the name and this memory shrouded in an unfathomable haze.

Aren't you going to the graduation ceremony tomorrow?

"No thanks." He hung his old canvas bag on the handle of his suitcase. "Tomorrow is the 10th anniversary celebration of Nordic Fantasy. Sister Ning has gone on a trip abroad with her family, so there's no one to play the piano. Brother Chen asked me to fill in for her for a day."

"."

My roommate hesitated for a moment, putting away his playful attitude while playing games, but then felt that being too cautious wasn't a good idea, so he pretended to be nonchalant and said, "Actually, my mom prepared two bouquets of flowers, one of which was intended for you."

For many, graduation marks the end of their student life if they don't pursue postgraduate studies. The graduation gown, cap, and the ceremony of the president handing over the diploma are all major events that parents feel obligated to attend, no matter how busy they are.

But he has no parents, his grandmother passed away three years ago, and his relatives avoid him like the plague, so he inevitably feels lonely at his graduation ceremony.

"Please thank your aunt for me." His hands didn't stop packing. "My advisor contacted me about two weeks ago, saying I could play the piano at the graduation ceremony, playing 'Farewell.' Well, to create some beautiful memories? But I refused."

"What?"

"My piano playing is very expensive, you know. I charge by the minute, and the school doesn't pay me." After saying that, he laughed to himself. Although the school wasn't very famous, the teachers he had encountered were all very nice people. If he asked to charge, the school leaders would probably agree.

"You know I don't care about that."

"Should I tell my parents not to come?" My roommate was still trying to persuade me: "It's graduation ceremony! You and I will be orphans back to back—two Sigma men standing there, it's time for our own youthful love story to unfold, bro! A blonde tsundere loli, a black-haired noble lady, a white-haired emotionless dragon girl."

“Zabudodel,” he said with a sneer. “It seems like you’ve been fantasizing about something beyond your wildest dreams.”

My roommate immediately deflated.

"Sigh, after graduation, I have to go to the company for training right away. But on the bright side, it's China State Construction Engineering Corporation, one of the top 20 companies in the world's top 500. My senior said that the training will be held in a four-star hotel, with buffet meals every day, and lots of girls—it doesn't seem as bad as my senior said."

"Ah, the best days are yet to come."

He looked at the empty dormitory room—only the two of them lived in the four-person room. Civil engineering and accounting were both second-class majors. The school built a new dormitory building, and after allocating rooms to international students and other majors, there were no more rooms available. The unlucky students from the civil engineering and accounting departments were still crammed into the old dormitory building.

Their student ID numbers were both at the end, with extra numbers, which fit together perfectly. They lived in the same room for four years.

"So you're really not going to the graduation ceremony?"

"I've already told the advisor." He unplugged the charging cable from the power strip, revealing a rather magical circular logo sticker on the charging head. "There will be a lot of people coming for the store anniversary tomorrow. Brother Chen will probably take this opportunity to introduce me to a job. It's hard to refuse."

"Can you find it?" His roommate knew his situation.

"It's difficult. It's hard to find someone in Jianghai. After all, no one would want someone who betrayed their former boss. All my previous resumes were rejected. I guess they still remember my name." He still didn't seem to care much.

"At worst, we can just not go to those listed companies. You're fluent in four languages, so you can easily earn a high salary by working for a small company in foreign trade. If all else fails, we can move to another city and find a job near my construction site. With you and me, we can work together!"

“Your construction site is in the deep mountains and forests of the Northwest. How am I supposed to go there to see cattle and sheep baring their teeth?” He had already made plans. “I won’t leave Jianghai. I’ll find it slowly.”

My roommate let out a long sigh.

"Byd, are you planning to spend the rest of your life sweeping graves?"

"I won't sweep anymore after I pay back the money." He tied his shoelaces, looked at the dappled sunlight shining on the corridor outside the door, and saw contrails of airplanes streaking across the azure sky. "I'll come find you again then. We can start a game company together, and you won't have to sweep dust anymore. As long as I have food to eat, you'll have a dish to wash."

"I'm so angry, you and I are both furious," my roommate muttered. "What kind of game is this? Civil engineering has a bright future. Maybe after two years, Evergrande will come to poach me with a million-dollar annual salary. The real estate market is going to rise until 2030."

However, he still said, "It's a promise then, you have to come find me."

"I'm leaving now. I'll call you when I log on tonight."

Bathed in the pleasant afternoon sun, he dragged his suitcase and left the dormitory where he had lived for four years. The cicadas chirped as always in the summer, and in a daze, the beautiful girl was still following behind him. He, too, had once dragged a suitcase with a backpack attached, stepping into the sunlight and the sound of cicadas as he walked towards a turning point in his life.

This time, however, his suitcase was empty of his passport and bank statement. He didn't need to nervously calculate time or everything. He could walk slowly, listening to the sounds of people playing games in the dormitories. These young people who were about to graduate were seizing the last moment of their youth, and none of them knew where their lives would lead after leaving the ivory tower.

In the distance, the sound of singing could be heard.

"Outside the long pavilion, along the ancient road, fragrant grasses stretch to the horizon; the evening breeze caresses the willows, the flute's melody fades; the setting sun shines beyond the mountains—"

The singing was hardly pleasant, but the emotion of singing aloud came like a gentle breeze, echoing on this ordinary summer afternoon filled with the chirping of cicadas.

How can a graduation ceremony be complete without "Farewell"?

"You're singing off-key, you bastard."

He smiled and shook his head, then gripped his suitcase tightly and headed into the distance.

Some partings don't involve long pavilions or ancient roadsides, nor do they involve toasting with a pot of wine to celebrate the remaining joy. Instead, one morning you wake up and find that you can never go back to yesterday.

The piano playing, slightly off-key—not due to a lack of skill, but because the score itself was out of tune—evoked his memories, and the ensuing melancholy overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

It was just a pure piano performance; no one was singing, and the people in this world couldn't possibly understand Chinese.

But he still seemed to hear someone singing aloud. "When will you return, my friend? Do not hesitate when you come back!"
I remained in shock and bewilderment until the song ended.

"Mr. Quinn. Mr. Quinn?"

He blinked, and a girl with long, cool brown hair looked at him with concern, her pert little nose reflecting the bright lamplight.

"Are you okay?"

"It's nothing. I just think this song is kind of nice."

Quinn's eyes flickered slightly, puzzled.
Many things flashed through my mind, and a sense of melancholy lingered in my heart, but...
The vague thoughts that had just surfaced were instantly erased as if by an eraser, leaving only a blank and bewildering space. Quinn tried to recall what had just happened to him, but he could only vaguely remember that unpleasant song. Who sang it?
Perhaps it was when I left the dormitory the year I graduated from university that I heard someone singing.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Quinn's mind; this symptom
Could this be a sign that supernatural abilities are about to go out of control?

But now was not the time to think about these things. His wary gaze fell into the side hall where the piano was placed. He could not be mistaken; it was the melody of "Dreaming of Home and Mother," which was also known as "Farewell."

The mainstream music style of Taymouran is completely different from this piece. Even if they were the same, it would be impossible for them to have such a similar arrangement. Could it be another time traveler?
He soon learned the answer.

Upon hearing Celia's voice, the performer inside immediately came over, and Quinn then saw a familiar blonde woman.

"I must have misheard," Pepe covered her mouth, her little face showing a puzzled expression. "It's you, Mr. Strange!"

"What a coincidence?" Quinn quickly regained his composure and naturally took a step forward, using Celia to block Pepe's view—his briefcase contained the Level 0 sealed artifact, the Gate of Heaven, which Pepe had yet to find. Pepe was a priest, so he didn't want her to have any strange intuitions.

"You're here to see the exhibition too?"

"Oh, right." Quinn then glanced slightly at the piano; there was no one else there besides Pepe. "Were you playing the piano just now?"

“Yes.” Pepe nodded, then asked softly, “Can’t we play the piano in the museum? I know it’s an exhibit, but since there’s no barrier around it, I assumed we could use it.”

“No, of course you can play it.” Quinn said seriously, “You played it very well, I was stunned.”

"Huh? That's too much!" Peipei laughed and scratched her head, but the smile looked more like a smug smile that said, "I know I played very well, you're right to praise me."

"The Vatican choir has only had piano accompaniment for about one or two decades. When I entered the monastery, piano lessons had just been added, so it was only by chance that I was able to start learning from a young age. I also helped with the piano playing at the Akenitz Church, so I'm quite skilled."

Quinn nodded in amazement.

"I also know a little about the piano. The hymn you just played wasn't a Vatican hymn, was it? I haven't heard it before. Who composed it?"

"No, no, no, it's not such a rigorous arrangement," Peipei replied with a smile. "My mom hums this tune when she lulls me to sleep, and I've picked it up over time. I just play it casually."

"I see." Quinn withdrew his curious gaze. "It sounds quite nice."

A storm raged within him.

This was taught to her by that mysterious fortune teller from her hometown.
Quinn had no doubt about his abilities. This guy's scheme was too bizarre, able to send information to his future self through various "coincidences," as if casting bait upstream in the river of time and then naturally feeding it into the mouth of a specific fish downstream.

Feeding someone once might be a coincidence, but to do it two, three, or four times in a row demonstrates the ability to manipulate fate.

Is he making himself listen to this song, "Farewell"?

Did he know I was leaving, and that's why he said goodbye?
What was his opinion on the assassination of the hero? Did he divine it?

"Mr. Strange, and who is this?"

Pepe looked at Celia, whose body was tense, with some hesitation.

Isn't the person Quinn likes Chaldale? What's their relationship?
It's no wonder she misunderstood. Earlier, because Quinn was in a daze, Celia called him twice but couldn't wake him up. Out of concern, she went closer to observe. Later, because Quinn didn't want Pepe to notice the suitcase he was carrying, he used Celia to block his right hand.

Celia was already tall, and the two of them looked like they were practically snuggling together. Most importantly, Quinn's right hand, which was carrying the suitcase, was like it was wrapped around Celia's waist. How could she not be tense?

Realizing that things were getting a bit too ambiguous, Quinn took a step back without making a sound, slung the box over his shoulder, and used his other hand to guide Pepe's gaze toward Celia as if introducing her.

“Celia, a first-year student in Grindelwald, is a student in my class.” He paused, then added generously, “My best student.”

Celia immediately raised her head slightly, like a little hen being praised.

Although somewhat unsure of their relationship, seeing Quinn's open and honest attitude, Pepe didn't press the matter further. She politely lifted her skirt and bowed to Celia, saying:
"Hello, I am Sister Pepe from the Holy See of Light, and I am your teacher's sister."

"Oh—hello, hello—I'm Celia."

Upon hearing "the Church of Light" and the term "sisters" used to describe the relationship between believers, Celia was clearly taken aback. The Church of the Holy Tree was one thing, but how did Mr. Quinn know someone from the Church? You see, in Grindelwald, being religious was already at the bottom of the social hierarchy; you couldn't even call yourself a student of Grindelwald without being an atheist. The Church, which had a grudge against the academy, was even more prestigious—the kind of organization that would be bullied for praising the sun.

And why did she refer to Quinn as "Staranchi"?
But this lady is so beautiful! Her hair is as bright and dazzling as the sun. Are all the nuns in the Vatican this beautiful?
Compared to when she first arrived in Aishwell more than two months ago, Peipei is no longer as fair-skinned as a princess. Because she has been searching for sealing objects outside every day, her skin has been tanned into a beautiful wheat color by the sun. Her blonde hair is tied into a neat ponytail, and that indescribable noble temperament is still there, but she looks more approachable.

Celia's slight sense of inferiority resurfaced.

This kind of person is more suited to be a princess or queen; I'm far from that level.
"Did the boss bring you here?" Quinn asked curiously. There was a long queue at the entrance downstairs. Visits inside the museum were limited to a certain time, so ordinary people couldn't leisurely play the piano here.

"Huh? No, Grandpa Selvi hasn't sobered up yet," Pepe suddenly stammered, somewhat confused. "It's just, that..."

"Ok?"

Then, Quinn saw a white-haired man holding two cups of ice cream on the other side of the side hall.

"I was lucky; I managed to buy the last two."

Ankuya stared blankly at the stunned Quinn.

Then, the two of them simultaneously revealed the dry, scholarly chuckle.

Haha, what a coincidence, the job the academy assigned you is to take girls to museums?
(End of this chapter)