Here is the English translation for
The invitation letter from the Imperial Academy of Music lay quietly on the desk, the embossed golden school emblem shimmering enticingly under the light. Next to it was the 'Battle of the Voices' individual round champion trophy, its crystal reflecting brilliant colors.
Gu Ying sat on the apartment sofa, his gaze shifting between the two items, unconsciously caressing the silver mental stability device in his hand. The three-day deadline had arrived; he had to make a choice.
Ling Zhao had not appeared again, nor had he sent any prompts. But Gu Ying knew that those eyes were watching somewhere. This pervasive sense of control, which had once filled him with fear and resistance, now—after Ling Zhe's collapse and the recurring invasion of that cold consciousness—brought a kind of twisted security.
The -15 favorability rating felt like an ironic label. He was grateful to Ling Zhao, genuinely so. Ling Zhao had pulled him back from the brink of hell, restored his innocence, given him an unprecedented stage, and even the key to the highest musical temple. Yet beneath this gratitude lay a deeper, ineradicable fear. Ling Zhao was too powerful, too mysterious; his motives were like an abyss hidden behind a fog. This "gift" was too profound, and he didn't know what he would have to pay to settle the debt.
And the shadow in the mirror, the voice attempting to seize his consciousness, though isolated with the help of the stabilizer, had not disappeared. It was like a beast lurking in the dark, occasionally emitting a low growl, reminding him of the bizarre and dangerous nature of his existence. Ling Zhao seemed to know what it was, but he never explained.
If he stayed, with the heat from the 'Battle of the Voices' championship and the prestige of the Imperial Academy of Music, he could stabilize his footing in this world and become a respected musician. This was the path he had always dreamed of.
But would the end of this path free him from that voice? Would it allow him to understand everything Ling Zhao had done?
Finally, on the evening of the third day, Gu Ying picked up his phone and dialed Ling Zhao's number.
"Teacher Ling, I've decided… to accept the Imperial Academy of Music's invitation."
A moment of silence passed on the other end before Ling Zhao's voice came, as calm as ever: "Good."
No questions about his reasons, no superfluous words.
"When… when should I leave?" Gu Ying asked.
"Anytime," Ling Zhao said. "The paperwork is already sorted out."
Gu Ying gripped the phone tightly. Sure enough, everything had already been arranged.
"Before I leave… I'd like to see you once," Gu Ying said, summoning his courage. He needed an answer, even if it was just a vague direction.
"…Alright."
An hour later, Gu Ying arrived at the same highly private cafe, the same booth.
Ling Zhao was already there. A glass of clear water sat before him, the rising steam slightly blurring his somewhat harsh outlines. Gu Ying sat opposite him. After serving the coffee, the waiter discreetly closed the door.
A subtle silence descended upon the booth.
"Teacher Ling," Gu Ying took a deep breath, looking up, meeting Ling Zhao's eyes directly. "I know this question might be foolish, but I still want to ask… Why did you help me? Was it really just because of… my 'utility value'?"
Ling Zhao looked at him, not answering immediately. His gaze seemed to pierce through Gu Ying, seeing the struggling fragment deep within his soul, and the restless primary consciousness behind the fragment.
"Utility is the foundation," Ling Zhao said slowly, his voice low and clear. "But redemption requires an anchor point."
"Anchor point?" Gu Ying was perplexed.
"Ling Zhe's collapse, which cleansed your stigma, is an external anchor point. The invitation to the Imperial Academy of Music, which points toward your future path, is a positive anchor point," Ling Zhao's finger lightly tapped the table. "These will help your soul… stabilize."
Soul? Stabilize? Gu Ying's heart leaped. Ling Zhao knew! He knew the voice was related to the soul!
"Then… what about that 'illusion'? That voice…" Gu Ying's voice carried a tremor that was hard to detect. "What is it?"
Ling Zhao's gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward slightly; an invisible pressure filled the air: "That is something you need to fight against with these new anchor points. Remember, Gu Ying, you are you, not the shadow or puppet of any other entity. Your music, your choices, your life, belong only to you."
His words struck Gu Ying's heart like a heavy hammer again. Not a shadow, not a puppet… belonging only to himself…
"I… I understand." Gu Ying lowered his head, processing the words. Ling Zhao hadn't answered directly, but he seemed to have given him a direction—to use music, to use the future, to fight against the consciousn