The melody turned somber in the second part, but not abruptly. Instead, a tendency toward this somberness had already appeared in the first part, and this tendency continued into the second part.
At the beginning of the third part, the melody suddenly became very slow and gentle, and then stopped directly, as if the sky had suddenly changed from dusk to night.
Liu Manman clenched her hands. Had the piece ended here?
Of course not.
After three seconds of silence, Xia Yu’s fingers moved again, and a cheerful melody reappeared.
Yes, it was a “reappearance.”
Liu Manman widened her eyes. She realized what she had previously overlooked was exactly this melody.
This melody had appeared multiple times in the prelude, the first part, and the second part, but it had been hidden. Each time, only a small section of it had appeared, but now it was fully revealed.
The cheerful melody repeated continuously.
Relaxing her furrowed brows, Liu Manman continued watching the imagery that appeared in her mind.
Under the cheerful melody, the night seemed to brighten suddenly.
No, it wasn’t exactly brightening; this melody had already participated earlier.
This melody was like a small flower hidden in the picture.
During the day, behind the sunlight, grass, and butterflies, this flower had been swaying. In the dusk, when the butterflies disappeared, the sunlight faded, and the grass grew quiet, the flower had become slightly more noticeable.
And in the third part, at night, when the sunlight had also vanished, the grass had fallen into deep slumber, and the scene had turned dark, the camera that had been capturing the entire grassland suddenly zoomed in, approaching the flower.
Only then did the audience realize with surprise that this flower, quietly growing in the corner, was so clean and elegant.
In their minds, images of the day and the dusk resurfaced, along with the swaying of the flower.
The melody did not repeat endlessly; it scattered again, hiding behind the newly emerging rhythm.
By then, the sky had already brightened.
Xia Yu stopped playing and stood up.
Applause erupted from the audience.
The judges on the stage began discussing excitedly.
The host came onto the stage and began the introduction that other competitions usually conducted before the performance.
This approach of performing first and speaking afterward was extremely beneficial for a good piece. After listening to a good composition, people would become more curious about the piece and its performer or composer. However, if the piece was bad, the audience would completely lose interest in knowing more.
Undoubtedly, Xia Yu’s piece belonged to the former category.
The host glanced at the card in her hand: “Thank you, Mr. Xia Yu, for this wonderful performance. The name of this piece is ‘Princess of Serenity.’ It’s a very touching melody, composed and performed entirely by Mr. Xia Yu himself…”
As she spoke, the host felt puzzled. She had never heard of someone named Xia Yu before. Was there such a person at the conservatory?
She briefly mentioned the information Xia Yu had previously filled out and then handed the microphone to the judges.
The judges looked at each other. For previous pieces, they could still point out some shortcomings and offer suggestions, but for this piece, they simply couldn’t do so!
Moreover, this segment was specifically set for the judges to give suggestions. They wanted to praise it briefly and move on, but they couldn’t.
They were all renowned composers and performers, and they had never imagined that this arrangement would lead to such an awkward situation.
They planned to get through it by faking their responses, but the host happened to be very enthusiastic, constantly urging them to comment.
After giving a few perfunctory remarks, the judges quickly dismissed Xia Yu from the stage.
At this point, due to mental inertia and inner embarrassment, the judges still hadn’t recognized Xia Yu.
The group of contestants below the stage were the same.
Watching Xia Yu return to his seat, Lao Zheng and Lao Gang gripped each other’s hands, somewhat stunned.
What Xia Yu had done could be compared to a particular scene.
At the Huashan martial arts contest, Lao Zheng and Lao Gang, along with numerous martial artists, gathered on Huashan Mountain, competing for fame and fortune. Lao Zheng, relying on the “Nine Yin Manual,” and Lao Gang, relying on the “Nine Yang Manual,” defeated many martial artists and stood at the summit of Huashan, beginning their final confrontation.
The Nine Yin was versatile and changeable, while the Nine Yang was imposing and grand. The two were evenly matched, locked in an intense battle.
Suddenly, a thunderous sound came from the horizon, and Xia Yu arrived on a flying sword above them.
Then, with the move “All Swords Return to One,” Xia Yu sliced off the summit of Huashan Mountain.
Lao Zheng and Lao Gang’s minds immediately collapsed.
We’re fighting martial arts here, right? This is a martial world! How come you can fly on a sword and summon a thousand swords? You’re from a different world altogether!
You, a sword immortal from a xianxia world, why are you competing for the title of number one under heaven in our ordinary martial world?
They felt bitter inside, but they couldn’t say anything.
Although Xia Yu was a sword immortal, he was still a person in this world. Who said he couldn’t participate in the competition for the title of number one?
They gripped each other’s hands tightly, exchanging glances filled with sorrow.
Compared to them, the other contestants were somewhat more composed.
One contestant poked another: “Didn’t you say this competition was completely predictable and that there was no chance of a dark horse emerging?”
“Hey, how can you frame me like that? When have I ever said that?” the other denied vehemently.
Unconcerned with their bickering, Xia Yu turned his gaze toward Lao Zheng, who was walking onto the stage.
After Lao Zheng began playing, Xia Yu relaxed.
Hearing how highly the others had praised him earlier, Xia Yu had thought Lao Zheng might play a truly exceptional piece. But in reality, it was merely at the level of LV3 musical composition, two levels below Xia Yu’s LV5 music.
After listening to Xia Yu’s performance, the audience had already lost interest in such compositions. During the judges’ evaluation segment, the judges vented all the frustration they had accumulated from Xia Yu onto Lao Zheng.
Lao Zheng came down from the stage in a dejected state, and those who followed him also fared no better.
At nine o’clock in the evening, the competition ended. The host came on stage to summarize the event, after which the rankings would be announced, and then everyone could disperse.
Only after the event ended did Xia Yu begin his real business.
By then, Lao Zheng and Lao Gang had already regained their composure. Sitting one on each side of Xia Yu, they asked him, “Brother, which class are you in? Please give us some guidance when you have time.”
“Class Three,” Xia Yu replied.
“Freshman Piano Class Three—I’ll remember that.”
“No,” Xia Yu was about to explain when the host announced the competition rankings.
Looking at the card in her hand, the host said, “The first place is absolutely without doubt—Qu Wen Class Three…”
Halfway through her sentence, the host paused.
Did their conservatory even have a Qu Wen Class? Wasn’t Qu Wen short for “Quyi Wenxue,” the modern term for classical literature?
So she skipped the class name and directly mentioned Xia Yu.
At this moment, the contestant who had previously harbored suspicions, upon hearing the words “Qu Wen,” began to have a shocking suspicion.
He asked Xia Yu, “Which department are you from?”
“What department?” Those around him thought he had gone mad. This was a composition and performance competition—how could there possibly be participants from other departments?
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