A guzheng melody flowed from her fingertips like a clear spring, gently echoing through the quiet room.
There was no sheet music—just a tune she casually improvised. But even so, with her now master-level Huaxia classical music accomplishment, it still held a trace of elegance and beauty.
She tested the tone and confirmed that this guzheng wasn't some precious antique, just a modern high-end instrument crafted by skilled artisans and finely tuned by many musicians.
A little disappointed, but she understood. No matter how wealthy the foundation behind Sudi High School was, it wouldn't invest heavily in an art form that had clearly declined. She'd heard before that the most luxurious instrument in the school was a Steinway piano used in the piano room. By comparison, guzhengs received far less attention.
Her fingers once again began to lightly pluck the strings, brushing aside those unnecessary thoughts. Guided by memory, she gradually adjusted her rhythm, and a song from her previous life began to echo in her mind.
This song and the group behind it did exist in this world, but their development had been even more difficult than in the last. Many classic tracks hadn't survived—perhaps their creators had never emerged, or for other unknown reasons. However, this collaborative masterpiece by Xiaolou and Hetu remained a towering peak within the guofeng circle.
The song was titled To Pour My All[1]. It wasn't an especially complex song. Its story, too, was the familiar cycle of love, separation, sorrow, and fate gone astray. Yet on closer listening, it had a flavor that today's pop songs often lacked.
Its style naturally limited it to a niche audience, but that didn't stop fans of the song from continuing to support it. Maybe they would falter in the future, but for now, as long as there were those who loved it, they would keep going.
She quietly entered the system space and used 10,000 Culture Points to exchange for all the information about the song. Then she closed her eyes, hands still, and began to quietly reflect.
Unnoticed, Ayase had appeared beside her. She had swapped her fiery red evening dress for a matching red ruqun, its long hem trailing behind her. Her hair was styled like Chu Lian's in a plum blossom pattern, though instead of a flower, a single crimson mark adorned her brow.
She looked at the closed-eyed Chu Lian and gave a slight nod. With a wave of her elegant hand, the entire classroom was transformed under a suspended starry sky, now replaced with a small pavilion by the willow-lined banks of West Lake, steeped in ancient charm.
Chu Lian opened her eyes then, smiled softly at Ayase, and with a reserved elegance, lowered her head. A few strands of her long hair danced in the breeze as her pale fingers began to move. The guzheng strings responded, and beautiful notes slowly filled the tiny pavilion.
Witnessing this, Ayase's stunning features took on a cold, frosty expression. A fiery gown, an icy beauty, and a fairy-like girl in white—in this sunny, secluded willow pavilion, the scene felt like something from a dream.
When the prelude ended, Chu Lian opened her cherry-pink lips and began to sing lyrics that flowed like poetry:
The clash of blades and strings grows hoarse,
Who let you witness the battle beyond the walls?
Seven layers of gauze, stained with blood upon white silk...
Ayase danced beside her in harmony with the music and vocals, her long red ribbons tracing graceful arcs through the air. Though her gaze remained cool, in rare, fleeting glances, it brimmed with sorrow—as if remembering, or saying farewell.
Hear the swords grow faint,
The high tower, breathing its last, collapses.
They say your life is doomed to romantic turmoil,
Who read that fortune for you...
With the passing of a trailing silhouette, Ayase's red attire turned snow-white, while Chu Lian's white dress shifted to crimson in turn.
It was as if they were telling a story, performing a piece of history. One seemed like her past self, the other her future. For a brief moment, their figures overlapped as one.
In the final moments of the performance, she softly repeated those lines again and again:
Returning to that single instant, even silent time inspires fear.
Dead vines sprout new branches—so time has gently brushed by.
In dreams, under the moon atop the tower, stands the familiar silhouette of you.
Brushing snowflakes off our sleeves, side by side we face the boundless world...
Ayase, clad in white robes stained with red, fell to the ground. A single teardrop traced down from the corner of her crimson lips. Chu Lian, dressed in matching red, had a single bead of bright red liquid—like blood—slip from her lips.
As the song ended, all the scenery reverted to its original state. But from the moment before Ayase had first appeared, everything had been recorded into video. With a bit of editing back home, it would be ready to upload.
This was the Chinese song she had promised to cover. To be honest, even though many classics had been lost in this timeline, there were still countless beautiful and new songs she hadn't heard before. She could've chosen a more famous one to cover.
But she understood internet culture. Whether in her previous life or this one, what was popular online wasn't always accepted by mainstream society, and vice versa. If she didn't want to stir up controversy or criticism at this stage, she had to rule those out.
No matter how well she sang, someone would compare her to the original. If she sang too well, it would draw attention from people eager to make a scene. If she underperformed, she'd hurt her own credibility. So it was best to steer clear.
The internet should be conquered with internet songs—only that way could she protect herself to the greatest extent. Even if some suspected the video was too professionally made, the original file was stored in the system space. If she didn't want to release it, no one could access it. So even if suspicions arose, they'd have no proof, and nothing big would come of it.
She also believed guofeng music should carry its own aesthetic. If even the setting wasn't done right, how could you present your best self to the audience? That's why she'd decided—until she had a stronger foundation and greater popularity in a few years, she would deliberately hold back.
Besides, popular songs came with all sorts of rigid requirements. Doing them well was harder than online songs. She didn't want to waste her energy—these weren't her priorities right now. Putting too much into them would be a waste of time.
However, once she turned sixteen and could make her own decisions, that would be the time for everyone to witness her true ability. Ayase supported this plan too. "A tall tree catches the wind" —genius was fine, but don't be too freakish. If something can be achieved later with less risk, don't take big gambles early.
She changed out of her costume and back into her regular clothes. Picking up her small backpack, she slowly stood, walked to the door, opened it, then turned to glance back at the narrow room.
"What Ayase regrets... I will do everything I can to fulfill." Her voice was soft, barely audible.
Turning back, she closed the door behind her. Everything returned to the way it was.
No one would know that a girl had played music in that room.
Even less would they know what kind of emotional transformation she had undergone within, nor what height she had just reached in the world of classical music.
[1] 倾尽天下