A faint light flickered, and as Ye Yinzhu's hands touched the zither strings, his face instantly calmed down, even the coldness deep in his eyes was suppressed under the forceful control of his own spirit. His hands gently brushed the strings, and at once, a soft melody began to slowly resonate.
Ye Hongyan leaned against the trunk of a tree, quietly listening to the zither music played by Ye Yinzhu. The music was very soft, giving off an extremely comfortable feeling without any magical or spiritual influence—it was simply a pure zither piece.
