"But you still think this is a dead end?"
"Yes!"
"How about a bet?"
"Bet on what?"
Miao Yin said, "I bet you can see a turning point!"
"If you glimpse the turning point, I help you?"
"Yes!"
"What if you cannot glimpse it?"
"Then I will give you the music theory books and scores I can gather from that world, allowing the civilization of that world to be preserved through your hands for thousands of years."
"Why don't you preserve it yourself?"
Miao Yin smiled faintly, "If that day comes, my remains will surely be buried outside the national border. How can I allow this generation's flower of civilization to continue to bloom?"
Han Yan's calm river of heart rippled with thousands of waves at this moment.
She seemed to finally step down from the world of lofty music theory, glimpsing a trace of red dust in the mundane world.
That world, in her eyes, initially amounted to nothing.
But now, she knows the music theory of that world repeatedly astonishes her as heavenly.
