Chapter 50 My World (Part 1) tushumi.cc

A golden sun blurred with mosaic, a row of trees that look only two people tall, a few small hills the size of corn cobs, square meadows, square ponds, and a blurry distant view.

A huge waterfall shaped like granules flows down a square wall, the dark leaves are unsettling to look at, and several rabbits with rectangular ears chase polygonal butterflies among colorful flowers.

The cool, empty flat houses are pasted on the background. Although they have no sense of three-dimensionality, the wonderful environment makes people feel calm. Some lovely, muffled sounds keep rising, and the aroma and melody have the taste of childlike fun.

Billy became a pixelated character with relatively clear resolution.

He didn't know where to go, but soon he met the inhabitants of the world under a cedar tree bearing plank fruits.

The resident holding the hand-cranked violin was only as tall as a child. He was chanting, sometimes with ups and downs, sometimes with the key ending. Each lyric was clearly divided into sections and had a clear rhythm.

He was a bard whose lyrics were all borrowed from nature.

"The starry sky of Faan is a colorful ocean. I swim along this ocean to the forest and pick the diamond from the antlers of the long-tailed deer. I travel along this ocean to the desert and drink from the spring of the world's source. I smell magic along this ocean and take the heart of the Pangaea. But, oh, none of these are what I want. The starry sky guides me. I follow the divine song across the continent and find my soulmate in the north. My companion, my friend, my family."

“Hey, can I ask for directions, friend?” Billis interrupted the bard’s chant.

"Where are you going?" Before Billis could speak, he continued singing, "I will take you to places you have never been before, to find different starry skies. Listen, what is that sound? Oh my, is it you sleeping soundly on my chest? Is it you whispering in my ear? Or is it you playing my harp? Oh my, it is the wind that brings your breath. You dance a mesmerizing dance, and I sing divine songs to the world."

Billis had no choice but to applaud him.

"Hi, I'm a traveler from the real world, can I ask for directions?"

As the bard put down his seemingly simple instrument, snow suddenly fell from the cedar tree, landing on his tiny, tall hat.

How did I sing just now?

"Great! Can I ask for directions?"

"This is a song I just wrote yesterday, called Starry Sky."

“It sounds like you’ve been to many dangerous places, so you can definitely be my guide.”

"Bards always receive stories from others and then share them with the world. If you want to hear more stories, I can tell you more about..."

"Hey! Don't do that, I just wanted to ask for directions."

"Long, long ago, on the other side of the mountain lived a fire-breathing dragon. The king summoned the world's best warriors to slay the dragon, promising to marry his beloved daughter to the one who could cut off the dragon's head..."

Five minutes passed, maybe ten minutes, or maybe longer.

Billy fell asleep under the cedar tree, and when he awoke, the bard was putting a perfect end to the story.

"The hero and the princess lived happily ever after."

"You explained it so well! Now, can I ask for directions?"

"Wait! Something has sparked my inspiration! It has reminded me of a song!" The bard picked up his hand-cranked violin and continued playing, "I can reach out and touch the flames in front of me, they dance joyfully, full of singing skill. As a devout listener, I hear the hidden meaning in the crackling sound, I hear the warmth of humanity. Such a warm picture, please stay a little longer, let us grow old together. I, a devout wanderer, have never thought of leaving you."

Billis's veins bulged, and he wished he could break the guy's hand-cranked violin.

However, there was a very subtle feeling, like the warm, drowsy coziness of a warrior singing with friends around a campfire during the happiest days of his travels across the continent.

The bard finally finished his second song, and a bird, indistinguishable as either a parrot or a pigeon, perched on the top of the hat. Mushrooms sprouted from its head, like tiny umbrellas.

As the mosaic sun sets, a mosaic starry sky appears, revealing people on the mountaintop holding numbered torches, while the sounds of drums and shouts echo across the mountains.

By this time, the bard had already sung his eighth or even ninth song. Suddenly, he stood up, took off his top hat, and revealed his broad, poker-faced expression.

Until the shouts disappeared between the nightingale and the flowing water.

A snowball rolling off a pine needle woke up Billy from his deep sleep.

They both said almost simultaneously, "I thought you were asleep."

“I did fall asleep, and for the second time. Your music has a hypnotic power.” Billis was already planning to give up asking for directions. “Those songs you just played, did you compose them yourself?”

"I am a bard, and songs are my life."

“Excellent! Every note you played seemed to float in the sky. In my dream, I saw them turn into stars.”

"Ah, I wish I could play another song to repay this kindness!" The bard did not continue playing, but gently put down his hand-cranked violin. "I see you are not of this world."

Billy trembled with excitement: "You finally figured it out! Even though it took you all day! So, may I ask you a few questions now?"

"Ask away, sir."

Where is this?

"I don't know either."

"Who are you?"

"Number 33, sir."

"I asked you two questions, but you didn't answer either of them."

"Any other questions you would like to ask?"

"That's all. I need to find someone who disrupts world peace."

"Oh! You are the hero summoned by the king!"

"No! I'm a secret agent! A secret agent!"

The bard clearly didn't understand what the agent meant. He simply said "oh," and his two arms, like a combination of pulleys and levers, pulled a rope down from the tree, revealing the wooden house in the treetop.

It turns out that this cedar tree is his home!

The bard climbed into the cabin, threw down his tool bag, and found a slingshot and a sword inside.

Billis asked curiously, "What are you going to do?"

The sword gleamed in the bard's fist, which was as round as a steamed bun.

“I will go with you to defeat the dragon,” he said. “I will write down your story of bravery, turn it into poems, and sing it to the whole world.”

"Hey, you didn't understand what I meant at all. I meant..."

A deafening roar came from the other side of the mountain, startling the bard into dropping his sword.

It's the voice of an evil dragon!

Billy pricked up his ears, as if he had heard:

I'm waiting for you here!

Could it be a hacker?

Billis extended his checkered hand and patted the bard's rectangular arm: "Do you know what that dragon looks like?"

"It is said that anyone who sees a dragon will turn to stone, and stones cannot speak."

"That evil dragon might be the one I'm looking for."

"May I show you the way, brave man?"

"Of course, number thirty-three, and also, please call me Mr. Billis."