After the production team posted a live broadcast preview for 9 PM, they turned off the live equipment, prompting numerous viewers to leave messages in the comments section.
「Looking forward to the evening program.」
「My mom loves watching Fan Menghua dance. I’ll pull her in to watch tonight.」
「Is it possible to rehearse well in such a short time?」
「The teachers are experienced, let’s just wait and see.」
In the farmhouse yard, the production team arranged a scene with rustic charm. After coordinating the evening’s program and camera positions, the four inheritors of National Style dove into preparations.
Hou Yingfan and Yu Feipeng had it relatively easy. One just had to explain poetry to the audience, prepare a draft, and narrate it to the audience later. This wasn’t difficult for Hou Yingfan, the vice president of the Capital Poetry Association.
The other, Yu Feipeng, had a solid foundation in painting and calligraphy. When the time came, he would write on camera. As long as the production team prepared the Four Treasures of the Study (writing brush, ink stick, ink slab, and paper), it would be fine.
The real trouble lay with Ying Wenlin and Fan Menghua.
Having just received the answer, the two had to spontaneously compose music and choreography based on the poem. Fortunately, being seasoned artists, improvisation posed no significant challenge.
Ying Wenlin cradled the sanxian, humming a tune while plucking the strings to compose.
Xu Qiao glanced at his three-stringed instrument several times, displaying a hint of admiration.
True to his reputation as a renowned traditional music master, Ying Wenlin’s craftsmanship on the sanxian was meticulous, using only aged materials.
The qin and gong’s frame, slightly square, crafted from premium Hainan yellow rosewood, exuded a fine, smooth oiliness with beautiful patterns. The neck was made of nanmu, and the fingerboard was fashioned from large-leaf purple sandalwood.
As for the coverings on both sides, if Xu Qiao’s eyes didn’t deceive him, they appeared to be genuine Burmese python skin.
With a pluck of the strings by Ying Wenlin, Xu Qiao could discern the exceptional tonality of the sanxian.
Fan Menghua, now donned in dance attire, awaited Ying Wenlin’s musical arrangement to synchronize with the dance steps. At that moment, Ying Wenlin wasn’t ready yet, so she was sitting somewhat bored on the side. Seeing Xu Qiao continually glancing at Ying Wenlin’s sanxian, she couldn’t help but jest, “Xu Qiao, why do you keep staring at Wenlin’s instrument? Interested?”
Xu Qiao withdrew his gaze, coyly shaking his head.
Fan Menghua patted his shoulder. “Xu Qiao, I’ve seen your video edits. Your dance moves are impressive, and your delivery of lines is excellent.”
Ying Wenlin’s fingers, adorned with nails, intermittently plucked the strings. Upon hearing this, he looked at Xu Qiao and asked, “Do you know traditional opera?”
Xu Qiao responded with a nod, “A bit.”
Intrigued, Ying Wenlin spontaneously composed a verse, hummed a couple of lines, then turned to Xu Qiao. “Come, have a look and see if you can sing it.”
Min Yang sat nearby, scrolling through his phone. Hearing the commotion, he frowned, thinking Xu Qiao really had no sense of propriety, coming to show off in front of Ying Wenlin.
Recalling Ying Wenlin’s earlier singing, Xu Qiao began to hum.
As he started singing, Ying Wenlin couldn’t help but nod in approval, and he accompanied Xu Qiao with his opera-style singing.
In the small farmhouse courtyard, the clear melody flowed like snow melting in a mountain stream, meandering between the riverbanks.
Yu Feipeng, grinding ink on the side, and the production team members still busy adjusting equipment couldn’t help but shift their gazes towards the scene.
The young and melodious voice blended seamlessly with the sanxian, sketching a serene picture with just a few lines.
Ying Wenlin quickly composed these few lines of lyrics. Seeing that Xu Qiao finished singing very quickly, he felt a little unsatisfied, but he gave him a thumbs up. “Well sung.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
The production team couldn’t help but suggest, “Teacher Ying, how about collaborating with Xu Qiao tonight?”
Tlcu Qfcilc’r fsfr ila eq, jybea ab jugff ktfc Zlc Tjcu lcafgpfmafv, “Kbcluta yfibcur ab atf obeg afjmtfgr. Qf jgf tfgf jr rqfmajabgr, gluta?”
Ktf qgbvemalbc afjw tfrlajafv obg j wbwfca, atlcxlcu atja klat We Hljb’r fcags, atf cewyfg bo klacfrr rtbar yfmjwf lwyjijcmfv. Zlc Tjcu kjr regfis vlrqifjrfv, rb atfs gfogjlcfv ogbw oegatfg reuufralbcr.
Ying Wenlin felt a bit displeased, glancing at Min Yang who remained silent.
He didn’t care about the number of shots. Creating an outstanding program was what artists like them pursued.
Looking somewhat regretfully at Xu Qiao, who couldn’t help but glance at his sanxian, Ying Wenlin chuckled. “What’s up? Do you like my sanxian?”
Not extremely, but there was some liking. So, Xu Qiao shook his head.
“Can you play it?” Ying Wenlin continued composing the tune, casually asking.
“A little.”
Ying Wenlin already had a rough idea of Xu Qiao’s “a little” and asked with a smile, “Want to give it a try?”
Rubbing his eyes, Xu Qiao, somewhat tired, replied, “No, I won’t disturb you and Teacher Fan’s program rehearsal.”
If it weren’t for Ying Wenlin and Fan Menghua’s upcoming live performance, Xu Qiao would have liked to give it a shot.
It had been many years since he touched a sanxian. Speaking of which, during his days in the brothel, where he sold talent but not his body, he had to learn everything from music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
Guests loved listening to folk tunes, so he had to learn to sing and play. Sanxian, pipa, guqin – he learned from the theater masters for over a decade. After transmigrating through a few books, he also managed to make a living with these skills.
Ying Wenlin’s sanxian now triggered some memories for him.
Both Ying Wenlin and Fan Menghua were genuine and skilled artists. By evening, they had almost finished arranging a program. Despite the tight schedule, the prepared program could be considered splendid.
With just an hour left until the 9 PM live broadcast, the four inheritors of National Style were ready. The production team had invited villagers who had been informed in advance. The villagers entered the courtyard, took their seats on the benches.
As the crowd grew, problems arose. Ying Wenlin, carrying his sanxian, intended to take a break at the back and coincidentally bumped into a fellow villager. The instrument in his arms seemed about to fall, and in his attempt to catch it, Ying Wenlin fell to the ground. The sanxian was fine, but his wrist twisted.
With Ying Wenlin’s situation, the production team panicked.
“Teacher Ying, is your hand okay?”
“Hurry, get an ice towel to apply.”
Ying Wenlin frowned. The wrist issue wasn’t major, but the sharp pain made movement unbearable. It would be somewhat difficult to play the sanxian today.
Learning about Ying Wenlin’s wrist condition, the production team discussed how to handle it. “Should we postpone the live broadcast?”
“A bit troublesome. We’ve already posted the announcement, and the villagers have been invited.”
“Without music, Teacher Fan won’t be able to dance either.”
Listening to the production team’s discussion, Ying Wenlin frowned and after a moment, looked at Xu Qiao. “Xu Qiao, how well can you play the sanxian?”
He was skeptical about Xu Qiao’s earlier claim of “a little.”
Xu Qiao hesitated for a moment. Just as he was about to speak, Ying Wenlin asked again, “Can you play the tune I played this afternoon?”
After some thought, Xu Qiao nodded slowly.
Ying Wenlin smiled, placing the sanxian into his arms. “Let Xu Qiao give it a try, and I’ll explain the music to him.”
The production team hesitated.
Xu Qiao hadn’t been seen playing the sanxian before. If he went up and compromised the program’s effectiveness, what would they do?
Min Yang couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. Xu Qiao, who knew where he learned to play the sanxian for a few days, dared to come up and try. If he went up and lowered the quality of Fan Menghua’s dance, it wouldn’t be taken lightly.
The saying goes, “It takes a thousand days to learn the pipa and a hundred days to learn the zither.” Mastery of the sanxian required decades of effort. Someone like Xu Qiao, who joined the scene halfway, daring to perform on stage was inviting ridicule.
“Just let him try. This time it’s my fault for having a problem with my hand. Let Xu Qiao go up and cover for me. Even if he doesn’t play well, he’s just saving the situation. Who would criticize him?” Ying Wenlin, seeing the production team’s hesitation, expressed impatience.
The production team figured it could be an interesting topic with Xu Qiao stepping in.
The program team updated an announcement, informing viewers that Ying Wenlin had injured his wrist and would be replaced by Xu Qiao. Immediately, a flurry of comments appeared.
「Did Teacher Ying injure his wrist? Is it serious?」
「Why let Xu Qiao take over? Can Xu Qiao play the sanxian?」
「He’s just filling in. Don’t criticize him even if he doesn’t play well, okay?」
Soon, at nine o’clock, with everything in place, the production team activated the live broadcast equipment.
The camera scanned the villagers seated in rows in the courtyard and focused on Hou Yingfan and Yu Feipeng.
Hou Yingfan recounted the story behind the “Wandering Son,” and as he spoke, Yu Feipeng beside him swiftly brushed his calligraphy. The fragrance of ink spread in the courtyard.
After this segment, the camera turned to Xu Qiao and Fan Menghua.
Recalling the tune composed by Ying Wenlin, Xu Qiao plucked the strings in his hands.
Accompanied by the string’s sound, behind him, Fan Menghua began to dance.
「Xu Qiao seems to be playing quite well, doesn’t he?」
「It seems rare to see someone play this kind of instrument. Any professionals care to comment on how well it’s played?」
「Speaking as someone who learns traditional Chinese music, the sanxian lacks refinement. It’s not easy to play these unrefined plucked instruments. Trying to bring out the charm of the sanxian is even more challenging.」
Ying Wenlin listened for a while, relieved, and nodded in satisfaction.
Xu Qiao’s “a little” wasn’t just a mere “little.”
In the first lively section, he employed a significant amount of circular finger movements — picking, sliding, rolling — displaying unexpectedly adept skills.
The melody, with its rises and falls, was graceful and melodious. Even someone unfamiliar with music could sense the longing and joy of a wanderer leaving home, amidst a world full of vast possibilities.
Through this tune, images of rice fields in the countryside, chimneys emitting wisps of smoke, and the shepherd boy’s flute seemed to materialize.
Overall, this section was lively, stirring, and smoothly executed.
Following was a variation.
Xu Qiao’s fingers slid down, pressing tightly on the strings, remarkably mimicking the crowing of a rooster.
Hearing this, the villagers erupted in cheers, creating a lively and festive atmosphere.
Ying Wenlin’s smile involuntarily froze at the corners of his mouth.
You call this ‘a little’? Do you even know what ‘a little’ means?
「…Was that just a rooster crowing?」
「???」
「Did a chicken in the village crow? Don’t tell me that sound was made by Xu Qiao.」
Unaware of the shocked comments, Xu Qiao continued playing the sanxian.
In the past, the sanxian used python skin. Now, with pythons being a protected species, the current sanxians were either made with synthetic materials or the skin of artificially bred pythons.
The sanxian in his hands was an old item, and despite Ying Wenlin’s reluctance to spend much, it used high-quality python skin. With a pure tone and lingering resonance, Xu Qiao grew fonder of this sanxian.
As for imitating various animal sounds, for him, it wasn’t a difficult task.
Xu Qiao pressed the strings, his fingers tapping on the python skin.
Waves of deep, bass-like barking erupted.
「Dogs barking?」
「??? How on earth did he manage to do that?」
Before the live comments could catch up, there was a rapid chorus of frog croaks and cicada chirps.
The melody instantly turned melancholic. Contrasting with Fan Menghua’s dance behind, it momentarily left people unable to regain their senses.
Ying Wenlin sighed, his expression inexplicable, showing a sense of satisfaction.
This segment played by Xu Qiao was still the tune he composed, but there were subtle adaptations, such as these shifts in the folk tones.
Unexpectedly, Xu Qiao’s mastery of the sanxian surpassed his own. The original “Wandering Son” performance was a product of haste, considering there was less than a day for composition.
The final result wasn’t bad, falling a considerable distance short of classical excellence. However, Xu Qiao’s adaptation elevated the essence of the piece, worthy of being included in textbooks.
The crowing rooster, barking dogs, cicada chirps, and frog croaks — all reminiscent of the sounds of home.
The wanderer on a journey recalled the hometown’s voices — hesitation, loneliness — evoking memories of the songs interwoven by every blade of grass, every insect, and every bird.
The fervor of pursuing dreams independently and leaving home faded at a certain moment. He finally thought of his mother, who stood there perpetually, forever in a stance of waiting.
The hometown melody gracefully drifted into everyone’s hearts.
「Why do I feel like crying a bit?」
「I’m reminded of the pond behind my old home. In the summer, it’s a gathering place for frogs.」
「Starting to miss home, ahhh.」
As Xu Qiao played the final note, Fan Menghua froze in her pose, and the performance concluded smoothly.
Villagers cheered together, and the live comments flooded in. Min Yang, sitting on the side, wore an unpleased expression. We agreed to be in the audience together, but you ended up on stage alone.
Xu Qiao, about to return the sanxian to Ying Wenlin, had his wrist grabbed. With an eager tone, Ying Wenlin asked, “Xu Qiao, want to join our traditional music orchestra?”
Before Xu Qiao could refuse, Ying Wenlin immediately added, “This sanxian is now yours.”
In his hands was a sanxian, its body crafted from aged wood, adorned with python leather embellished with golden patterns.
Aw, Xu Qian was gifted an instrument! I love how apparently the most useful setting has been the skills from the brothel, so far 🤣
Thank you for the update 🖤 💯
Min definitely wants to squash that “bug”
💞
Thank you for the update ☺️
Thank you for the chapter 😍 ❤️ ❤️ ❤️
Thanks for the chapter 😁
From being lest jobless, Xu Qiao has at least 10 different job opportinuties now. He should just accept them all and do 1 each day of the week 😂 Gotta love our multi-talented MC.
Thank you for the chapter!
Thanks for the chapter!
Thank you for the chapter.
I love this face slapping <(￣︶￣)>
I knew he want going to stay as witness 🤣🤣
Thank you for the chapter ~
Thank for the chapter