Fang Zhao had not meant to scare Zuo Yu, but neither was he talking nonsense. He was seriously listening. It was just different from what Zuo Yu imagined. The sounds that Fang Zhao heard were converted into a sort of language deep within his brain—music.
Emotions, scenery, and sounds were sources of inspiration. Although back in Yanzhou, Fang Zhao's walk in the cemetery had provided him with a rough draft, he had still felt that there was something lacking. Now he was looking for it slowly.
Muzhou's cemetery gave Fang Zhao a different feel. The emotions, scenery, and sounds were all different. The melodies playing in his mind were different too. As Fang Zhao listened, he adjusted the melodies in his mind until they suited his ideal result.
