Chapter 273: High-Skill Showboating (Third Update) (Seeking Monthly Votes!)
Watching Nishikawa Yuha disappear into the distance, Lin Tian plopped back down on his chair.
Who would have thought that the guy who had been stirring up a storm online would show up like this?
Was he here to test me?
Who would’ve guessed that such a fierce pianist would come over to make nice out of fear of clashing with someone else?
Maybe Yao Han was right.
What Lin Tian thought was just a casual competition might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for the other contestants.
If they ended up bumping heads again in the finals, that would be a real mess.
It’s possible that Lin Tian wouldn’t threaten his ranking, but his music could throw him at a disadvantage against Burke.
I can understand that.
Then again, it might all just be Lin Tian’s overactive imagination.
What if Nishikawa Yuha was simply a fan of his music and came over to make friends?
With the host’s speech wrapped up, the competition officially kicked off.
To the sound of thunderous applause, Player No. 1, Camilo Williams, took the stage!
The piano erupted in rapid-fire notes.
Echoing through the concert hall.
“Wow.”
Sure enough, once we hit the finals, the intensity just shot up.
This Williams guy rang a bell; he seemed to pop up everywhere in the media.
His skills were undeniably impressive.
Just like his music, he was bold and unapologetic.
And the guy was a looker too! Blonde hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a beard—he was the very definition of a handsome white dude.
According to the media assessments, he was the one most likely to snag the “Most Popular Choice Award” from Nishikawa and Burke.
As Williams’ performance concluded, the audience’s tidal wave of reaction confirmed it.
“Next up is Watanabe Satoru.”
The big screen flashed.
As Williams exited the stage, the host announced the name of Player No. 2.
Just then—
Bang!
The rest room door swung open.
Lin Tian turned his head and was left dumbfounded.
Yao Han had walked in.
“…”
Lin Tian watched in shock as Yao Han sat down next to him.
Before Lin Tian could even ask, Yao Han flashed a grin.
“I was feeling a little nervous, thought I’d come watch with you.”
What a terrible lie!
You’re a pianist who could sit on the judging panel back home, and you’re nervous?
If anyone should be nervous, it’s this 18-year-old rookie, right?
“The media’s saying that the Best Newcomer award will likely go to either you or Watanabe. Aren’t you taking it seriously?”
Yao Han had already launched into his spiel.
“Of course.”
Lin Tian wasn’t about to argue.
Even though he had a small run-in with Nishikawa Yuha over a musical genre clash.
He knew very well who his real rival was.
Watanabe Satoru.
Also a newbie with no background, but he’d made it to the finals.
And not just because of a song that impressed the media or audience; he made it there solely based on his killer piano skills.
A formidable foe.
Still, Lin Tian thought it wouldn’t be a huge issue.
“Are you thinking that your performance skills can’t match his but that you’ll offset it with your original composition skills? After all, this is just a performance competition.”
Yao Han turned his head, suddenly sporting an eerie smile.
“…”
Lin Tian fell silent.
Yao Han did have a point.
In fact, he’d realized it back in the preliminary rounds.
When it came to performance ability, he was indeed no match for Nishikawa Yuha.
But in the end, he made it through and got a decent reputation.
That was because he had written some impressive pieces.
Plus, while Lin Tian’s performance skills might not match the top-tier players, they were still pretty darn good.
He managed to put on a stage show that didn’t lose to Nishikawa Yuha’s.
So this proved that, at least in the Sato Sakura International Piano Competition, that kind of compensatory mechanism actually worked.
Unlike in the cello competition where Gan Yan Yu participated, where they gained absolutely no points for composing—their victory depended entirely on their interpretation of the music.
“Lin Tian, this kind of mindset won’t fly in international competitions.”
Yao Han sighed and continued.
“As a pianist, composing is definitely important.”
“But if you let that cause your performance skills to stagnate, how can you create a stage that truly moves the world?”
“…”
Lin Tian didn’t quite get what Yao Han meant.
Or rather, he didn’t understand the motive behind Yao Han’s words.
“Just watch—”
Yao Han said to Lin Tian, then made himself comfortable in his chair, chuckling.
On the big screen, Watanabe Satoru took his place at the piano.
The crowd fell silent.
Suddenly—
A rapid torrent of piano notes burst forth.
Complex melodies, multiple variations.
In an instant, the audience gasped.
“Did he really pick such a hard piece?!”
One pianist in the rest room couldn’t help but exclaim.
Even Lin Tian noticed something off.
Watanabe Satoru was performing Elvin’s “Etude No. 43.”
I mean, the phrase “etude” itself gives it away.
This was a piece that pianists used to practice and improvise.
Including Lin Tian’s previous life, many of history’s famous pianists had composed a few studies.
Like Chopin’s “Etudes” (Op. 10, Op. 25) or Liszt’s “Super Etudes.”
These pieces were created entirely to help pianists find inspiration and technical training.
These etudes often featured incredibly challenging technical passages, like rapid scales, chords, octaves, and arpeggios.
To put it bluntly.
They’re designed specifically for training purposes, with difficulty level in mind!
Now, Watanabe Satoru’s performance of Elvin’s “Etude No. 43” was one of those pieces!
“(He actually dares?! This piece is so difficult; even when I practice, I can’t guarantee I won’t mess up a bit, and he brings it to a competition?!)”
A pianist couldn’t help but marvel.
“(Seriously, if he messes up, doesn’t that just mean an automatic loss? What’s the point?!)”
Another chimed in.
To most pianists, this was a thankless task.
Because such practice pieces were hard to interpret thematically; it was simply showboating for the sake of showboating.
Even if he could pull it off without a mistake, it’s hard to say it would have a good effect.
In terms of technique, he might nail it, but his expressiveness and emotional depth would likely take a hit.
I mean, c’mon, who plays like this?!
“…”
Meanwhile, in the rest room, only one person wore a slightly serious expression.
Lin Tian.
He fully understood the reasoning behind Watanabe Satoru’s choice of piece.
As the only real opponent, Watanabe Satoru was taking a gamble by picking a piece that could potentially showcase his skills to the maximum.
It was bound to amplify Lin Tian’s weakness in “performance ability.”
“Going straight for me, huh?” Lin Tian sighed.
(The End of this Chapter)
