Chapter 313 · Volume 1

The Blue Iris Unyielding in the Storm

The orphanage system was born in the year 452, and over the course of eighty-two years, it had used generations to build a black wall around everyone. It thinned the concepts of family, neighborhood, and blood ties, emphasizing individual independence until every person became a solitary unit.
People no longer received any education outside of textbooks. The earnest teachings that once came from blood and geographical ties—whether those teachings were one-sided or born of rich experience—would construct a macro worldview for a life during its first steps, turning a person into an emotionally rich and complex being.
When such relationships of blood and land are diluted, emotional indifference and numbness become an inevitability.
In the Star of Art, people felt helpless and small when facing the two behemoths of family and society, remaining indifferent to the tragedies befalling other independent individuals.
And now, a tiny crack had appeared in this black wall. A silent wind blew through that crack, coming from the back of the other side to brush against the people's skin.
For the first time, people felt the tenderness within this wind.
Inside the Tree of Eternal Life club, the great artists watched the blue-haired girl in silence. It was unclear who started it, but someone began to clap. "Bravo. The courage of a naive life is always worthy of praise."
"I'm starting to appreciate her."
Da Finney approached Vantel and said, "What did I tell you? I said from the very beginning that we needed someone with the audacity to come charging in, didn't I?"
"Like Icarus flying toward the sun. Even though he knew his wax wings would melt, he did it to break the status quo and let more people escape this Crete. Such courage is admirable."
Vantel gazed at the girl on stage, the wrinkles on his face deepening.
People praised the courage of Icarus, yet they also knew the end he was destined to face.
The fate of this girl after she left this stage was bound to be miserable.
Because she had exposed the truth, the families and the Starry Gallery, who had jointly constructed this web of lies for so many years, would not let her go. And the citizens who had been deceived for so long would let her go even less!
A beam of light shines into an iron tower, illuminating the filthy corners within; thus, the light itself becomes a sin.
A person wakes those sleeping in a gas chamber, forcing them to face the cold, cruel reality once more; thus, that person must be executed.
She was destined not to be an Arash or a Siegfried sung of by the people.
The savior who rescues the world will eventually be killed by the world upon a cross of judgment.
Belvedere wore a dark expression and remained silent. The surrounding power and nobility also tactfully held their tongues, fearing that a misplaced word might annoy the old vampire and lead to their own involvement.
"I wonder if you still remember the past history of the Star of Art's predecessor, the Fars Theocracy," Tang Xin said.
"Three hundred and seventy-nine years ago, the people here lived under the dark rule of the Fars Church. They suffered under both physical and spiritual oppression, and their lives were filled with bitterness."
"Until the first two great practitioners, Michiro and Raquel, stood up. They promoted a human-centered philosophy, emphasizing artistic innovation and the importance of human thought. They led the people to resist the Church's oppression and allied with the companies to launch the Company-Church War against the Fars Theocracy."
"Ultimately, after thirty-two years of war, the thoughts of the people of Fars were liberated, and this city was officially renamed the Star of Art."
"Before that, to the nobles of the Church, the lives of the people living here were even lowlier than livestock. They would be herded like cattle and sheep before the farmsteads. If anyone dared to challenge the authority of the scriptures, their tongues would be cut out, and they would be burned at the stake."
"During that period, the Church enacted a policy. To swear their loyalty to the Church, people had to hand over a part of their bodies every month. These parts were sent to the church by priests for baptism, under the beautiful name of washing away their sins and allowing their filthy souls to be sublimated. This way, they could be reborn into a good life and become powerful nobles."
"At that time, to compete in showing their loyalty, some handed over their fingernails, some plucked out their hair, and some cut off their ears, handing the bloody body parts to those missionaries just to prove to the Church that they were not outliers..."
Hearing the girl's words, the nobles below, who had initially been unmoved, began to show expressions of alarm. Someone stood up and shouted a harsh rebuke:
"Sevia, do you have any idea what you are saying right now?"
"Do you think speaking these words will make the people hold you up high in the air?"
"No one will catch you! You will only be smashed to pieces, dead without a grave!"
"Sevia, you're insane! Did the Winter family never teach you what can be said and what cannot?"
Looking at the panicked expressions of the nobles, Tang Xin gave a faint smile.
She had long ago abandoned any possibility of living.
Death held no more fear for her. With nothingness before and behind her, she had already ignited herself; what was there left to fear?
Threaten her family? Affect everyone she was close to?
But she was a lonely soul in this city, too. Everyone she held dear was already buried deep beneath the frozen ground.
What else... was there for her to regret?
Tang Xin's hand slowly reached toward the sky. Facing the pale lights, the silent storm had long since swallowed her. Invisible water stains drenched her long hair and slid down her face. She saw a strand of golden hair, as if holding an invisible hand, yet her body was inevitably falling downward.
The girl gave up all hope of life, choosing instead to taste a grand failure.
"What is happening now in the Star of Art—how is it any different from what happened a hundred years ago?"
The girl's words were like a booming clap of thunder, exploding in everyone's hearts. Every pair of eyes behind the curtains trembled.
"The routine monthly assessment system... to show their loyalty, people hand over artistic creations more exquisite than those of the people around them, proving to society that they are not outliers."
Tang Xin's eyes closed slightly.
"Even if the price is cutting off their own ears and harming themselves, they must please the Church and the nobility."
"Even if they endure pain and suppressed thoughts, living under constant oppression."
"They would rather give up thinking, imprisoning the souls that long for escape within numb bodies."
"Waiting for others to come and redeem you."
"But this time, there will be no savior to come and save you."
"How pathetic."
At these words, everyone's heart skipped a beat. Inside the Tree of Eternal Life club, the great artists stared at one another in shock.
"Fine, I take back what I said earlier. She isn't Icarus flying toward the sun; she's Alonso Quixano, that idiot charging at windmills!"
"Give up on her. She is beyond help."
"The people won't let her go."
The great artist continued packing his things, intending to leave the room and find a way to distance himself from the girl afterward.
In the Grand Theater, in the subway stations, in the trams, and in every corner of the city, the cold, angry, and madness-tinged gazes of the people were fixed on the girl on stage. They transformed their resentment into sharp spikes and scythes, stabbing into Tang Xin's body and tearing her wings to shreds.
Tang Xin's body swayed, but her thoughts had already plunged into the cold abyss. By speaking those words, only one ending remained for her. She had never expected anyone to save her.
This was fine. She had burned herself out; it was time to face her end.
An ending of falling to her death.
Just like that, falling all the way to the bottom, Tang Xin plummeted into a starry garden. First, she smelled the fragrance of roses, then her back rested against the soft lawn. Opening her eyes, the starry sky fell into her pupils, and all the brilliant starlight of the night focused on her at this moment.
Strands of hair like blooming dark gold roses lay embraced amidst the glitter cast by the lights. Within the colorful shadows of their private world, long eyelashes blinked, and those amber eyes flowed with a clear light as they watched her gently.
That person stood by her side and held her right hand high.
"Tonight's performance, has not yet come to an end!"

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