The melody shifts, sometimes like a gentle breeze, sometimes like the morning sun, sometimes like a soft whisper.
A scene changes every second.
It seems everyone's souls are being carried into different spaces.
Transforming scenes continuously flash before their eyes.
It feels like a sprite is dancing before everyone.
The dance is graceful.
Gradually, everyone's expressions shift from disdain to calm.
Finally, transforming into fascination.
It seems like endless enjoyment.
Eyelids droop, slowly closing.
As if their souls are dancing along with the notes.
The seasons change—spring flowers and autumn moon.
It seems like everyone is being led through them within the dance of the sprite.
Ye Qingfeng's fingers move faster and faster, like they've reached a phantom-like speed.
Whether they understand music or not, as long as they're sitting in the hall at this moment.
The expressions on their faces are all ones of intoxication.
From slow to fast, from chaotic to orderly.
