Yarra's Adventure Notes-Chapter 1266 - 52: The Way Smart People Talk

"I think, if the teacher knew, he would definitely feel very happy," Freya said, lowering her head to wipe the corner of her eye softly, "When Avril danced cheerfully in front of Odom’s tomb, almost all members of the Berwick Family wanted to kill this evil woman who dared to defile the heir’s grave. Only Odom’s soul, sitting on his own tombstone, was filled with joy, accompanying Avril’s dance with the song the two were most familiar with. Everyone, only Avril, who could hear the song of his soul and was in tune with Odom’s spirit, knew how happy he was at that moment. To fulfill her lover’s last wish, Avril was willing to bear all the world’s malice with willingness."

"A noble and a dancer?" Pannis patted the leg of Christo’s statue lightly, scoffing, "That’s one of the top ten classic tragedies of modern opera, and you use it to describe someone’s happiness."

"Of course, it’s precisely because it’s incomplete that it’s tragic, but it’s within this incompleteness that we can appreciate that rare, fleeting happiness," Freya replied, taking out a cloth to gently wipe the polished base of the statue, her face wearing a gentle smile, "For that moment of happiness, we’d rather endure the sorrow of the entire play. It’s just like our lives, pursuing that ephemeral joy, we’re willing to immerse ourselves in eternal agony."

"Yes, ’Theatrical Life’ is quite the work of art—indeed, calling it a philosophical work wouldn’t be an exaggeration," Pannis nodded, "Laylee’s talent ensures his work will be extolled throughout the Yarran World, and he should certainly have achieved remarkable success—if, of course, he hadn’t cut his own throat on the twentieth day after finishing his manuscript."

"At the moment ’Theatrical Life’ was completed, Mr. Laylee had already obtained the transient happiness he sought all his life. Thus, unwilling to endure life’s pain any longer, he chose to make that instant of happiness everlasting," Freya suddenly fell silent, carefully placing one of the white flowers she had plucked from her breast onto the grave, before continuing, "You are not him. How can you be so sure that he would prefer everlasting escape from this painful world after tasting the most exquisite wine of life, rather than being celebrated by the whole world?"

"Heh, Miura’s theories are often seen as sophistry, young lady," Pannis followed Freya and placed his own white flower on Christo’s grave, dusting the pristine base of the statue and said with a half-smile, "A long time ago, when a few of us used to fight side by side, a certain lion once told us a story from the history of his homeland about two scholars. Even though we ridiculed him, saying the two must have ended up brawling with fists, we still remembered the story."

"Oh?" Freya’s bright eyes watched Pannis with interest, asking, "Was it a similar kind of theory?"

"Yes," Pannis nodded, "The story is actually quite simple. One scholar said to another, ’Look at the fish swimming under the bridge—they must be very happy.’ The other scholar retorted, ’You’re not a fish, how do you know whether the fish are happy?’ The first scholar then countered, ’You’re not me, how do you know that I don’t know whether the fish are happy?’ Well, there’s more to it, but I reckon if it were people of bad character, they’d probably have started fighting right there."

"Pfft," the princess covered her mouth, her laughter barely suppressed, "You, are you using this story to tell me, ’You’re not me, how can you be sure what I can be certain of’?"

"Hey, I never said that," Pannis’s smile was somewhat reminiscent of the lazy fox at home, "Those are all your own inferences. I’m merely retelling a story I heard from someone else."

"Sigh," Freya let her smile fade, sat down with her legs to the side on the grass in front of the tombstone, leaning back against it and looking up at Pannis seriously, "Pannis, why do you still deliberately turn the topic to the question of sophistry now of all times?"

"I’m not changing the subject," Pannis blinked innocently and said, "Weren’t we just discussing the issue of sophistry?"

"Since you’ve admitted that, to some extent, we are all smart, please don’t do things that don’t fit the identity of a smart person, okay? Such behavior is an insult to the intelligence of us both," Freya’s smile resembled a mother watching a mischievous child causing trouble, with a mix of indulgence and helplessness, she shook her head, "Or are you actually unaware of what I’m trying to convey?"

Pannis sighed softly, no longer forcing a smile, and with his hands clasped behind him, he looked up at the pine needles above and responded to Freya’s question with silence.

"Look, you actually know very well, you’ve always been very clear," Freya chuckled, propping her chin, "In fact, sometimes you understand our hearts better than we do ourselves, right?"

"Maybe," Pannis smiled and sighed, "But what does it matter? What significance does it have?"

"Yes, what significance does it have?" Freya seemed to be talking to herself, yet also to Pannis, "You once said you didn’t like comedies because you think they are too exaggerated and unlikely to happen in reality, yet you also dislike tragedies because you find them too heavy and devoid of hope."

"Yes, I’ve said that," Pannis nodded, "But I don’t understand, what are you trying to prove by bringing this up now?"

"If you are not playing dumb right now, then it means you really haven’t realized that your attitude has exposed the deepest thoughts of your heart," Freya at this moment discarded the mask of the simple and kind princess, revealing the maturity and wisdom shaped by living in a world full of hostility and schemes, "Your attitude shows that you detest tragedy from the bottom of your heart, and you reject comedy merely because it rarely occurs in reality, because it’s not realistic. So fundamentally, you actually like comedy; you like to see everyone in the play find happiness and deservedly so. Do you think I’m right?"

"Perhaps you are right," Pannis fell silent, not moving at all, to the point where a few butterflies mistook him for a stone and landed on his head with their wings fluttering. After a long while, the butterflies suddenly fluttered away, and Pannis laughed at himself, murmuring, "Maybe deep down, I really harbour such thoughts."

"That’s right," Freya squinted her eyes, suggestively saying, "So then, if you were in a play and discovered that you couldn’t make every person in it happy, what would you do?"