Chapter 38: The First Battle! A Concert!
Unbelievably, after pouring all his efforts, he still couldn’t solve the piano problem.
It turned out that Gan Yan Yu did it.
Lin Tian’s heart was suddenly hit by a wave of softness.
From the conversation just now, it seemed like he and Gan Yan Yu hadn’t seen each other for a long time.
Reaching out to an old mentor after so long to get a piano was like asking Santa Claus for a favor.
Lin Tian looked at Gan Yan Yu.
d*mn.
This guy got cuter every time he saw her!
Not that she wasn’t cute before, but when she stood there expressionless like a porcelain doll, Lin Tian always thought she was dumb yet adorable.
Now, she was actually getting crafty!
Like the difference between Saicho Fuka and Hashimoto Yuna.
But what Lin Tian didn’t understand was—
Why did he have to ask this mentor?
Getting help from such a big music star for just a piano seemed a bit over-the-top.
Then Wuan Qi, leaning against the wall, took a puff on his pipe and said,
“Actually, I could buy you a new one myself. But with me moving soon, this big thing won’t fit in my new place. So why don’t I leave it to someone with more promise and potential?”
At this point, he glanced slowly at Lin Tian and smiled:
“Young man, why not give it a try?”
Lin Tian got it. The old guy wasn’t just offering him the piano; he wanted to see his skills.
Since he’s using someone else’s stuff, Lin Tian naturally couldn’t turn it down. He sat down at the piano.
His fingers began to dance over the keys.
~
Beautiful melodies filled the room as he played a piece he had performed before—“Dream Wedding.”
The instant he started, Lin Tian realized this piano was no ordinary one.
Its tone was richer and warmer than most.
It had aged well, and instead of degrading, it gained fuller resonance and nuanced notes from years of use.
Pretty rare.
It needed not only great care over three decades but also a bit of luck.
When this warmth met “Dream Wedding,”
it sounded light, graceful, and melodious.
Each note Lin Tian played brought an immersive experience.
Gan Yan Yu never heard Lin Tian play this piece before. She lay beside the piano, eyes fixed on Lin Tian with stars shimmering in her gaze.
After a section, Lin Tian retracted his hands:
“Nice piano.”
“Is this piece also your composition?”
Wuan Qi, instead of giving feedback, asked.
“Huh?”
As Wuan Qi stared at Lin Tian, who looked increasingly familiar. Finally, he slapped his thigh.
“Ah! It’s definitely you!”
“Your student recently shared a video of a server playing this piece. I said then it was good, wondering who the composer could be.”
He seemed to discover a hidden treasure, his joy growing.
“What’s the piece called?”
“Dream Wedding.”
“Good! Good!”
Wuan Qi walked briskly out of the room to where Lin Tian stood stunned.
“C’mon, sit down and talk!”
They took seats around the living room tea table. A young man who had opened the door served them tea.
Gan Yan Yu, holding her phone, laid it on the tea table, watching a video of Lin Tian’s performance at the restaurant for the first time. When Lin Tian finished the entire “Dream Wedding,” her eyes widened with excitement.
So the famous “Ode to Love” was just one of his works?
“Lin Tian, how many of your pieces am I not aware of?”
“Not many. Only two so far,” Lin Tian explained, about to sip his water —
He noticed the old man across from him staring intently, eyes like deep ravines.
Lin Tian felt a chill.
“Kid, I have a feeling.”
Wuan Qi chuckled, relaxing his expression, sipping his tea.
“Though you might become the best composer of this era, it’s not time yet.”
“Still not now?”
“To become a composer isn’t about having great pieces alone; it also requires accumulation,” Wuan Qi explained, adding a touch of black humor, “Think of some musicians whose greatness is truly felt only after they’re gone.”
What’s this hellish joke?
Lin Tian blushed.
The old man continued,
“Pity me if I hadn’t retired, I would bring you into my orchestra —”
Looking at Gan Yan Yu, he added,
“But that’s not your interest, right?”
“Yeah.”
Truthfully, Lin Tian wasn’t that interested in music.
He only pursued it for her sake.
His goal was to rise above all to exact revenge.
Which meant, for him, tool or method didn’t really matter.
“Yanyu, do you truly understand that to achieve great cello honors is no easy task.”
“For you, there may be better paths than focusing on these competitions,” Wuan Qi told Gan Yan Yu, “But it’s your choice, for yourself or your grandfather.”
About this, Gan Yan Yu was always calm and steadfast.
There are many ways for a musician to gain recognition, not necessarily needing a competition.
But to reach the top, ensuring one’s own art and that of their nation is recognized globally,
Only competitions offer that guarantee.
Seeing her resolve, Wuan Qi sighed,
“Fine, fine, I understand.”
Gazing into his cup, it was hard to tell if it was relief or sadness.
“Old Hua, your granddaughter truly takes after you.”
Enough beating around the bush.
“There’s another reason I gathered you both.”
Wuan Qi nodded toward the young man serving tea, who approached Lin Tian and Gan Yan Yu.
“This is my student, Gao Zhen Yang, a lecturer at Xingye Music Academy.”
“Nice to meet you.” Gao Zhen Yang smiled.
“Hi.” Lin Tian and Gan Yan Yu nodded.
Lin Tian presumed this young man was the servant, but it turned out he was a teacher at a prestigious academy.
Xingye Music Academy was quite renowned.
One of its lecturers in Jingzhou might be the highest-status person Lin Tian would ever meet.
A young instructor like Gao could hardly pass unnoticed.
“Given your ambitions for the Ke’er Cup, you can’t go solo. Without an agent, find a guide!”
“When he graduated, Gao worked as a talent scout. Now, he’s lecturing and serves as a council member for the Jingzhou City Music Association.”
“He will help you even after I retire and move to Europe.”
Lin Tian got the message—
Introducing a personal advisor to those without agents.
Undeniably, though solo artists can join complex competitions, having a guide saves high school students like them from pitfalls.
But is such a prestigious connection free?
“Gao respects both Ms. Gan and Mr. Lin.”
Gao nodded solemnly.
“I feel honored to assist such a brilliant composer and accomplished cellist.”
Wow.
Only people of culture can flatter like this, Lin Tian thought, amused.
For the first time, someone called him ‘teacher.’
Lin Tian knew in the otaku circle, anything could be a ‘teacher.’ Still, he liked being called that.
“So, Gaosensei,” Gan Yan Yu urged anxiously, “what do we lack in our performances?”
“You’ve got everything covered,” Gao replied, adjusting his glasses.
“Compared to others your age, you excel; competing in city-level contests would be no challenge.”
SMACK!
Wuan Qi’s pipe thumped Gao’s head.
“Straighten up, punk!”
“Ow…”
Gao straightened up, serious,
“Ms. Gan, I saw your performance videos. Impressive, keep it up and you’ll qualify for the Parrot Zither Cup.”
“Mr. Lin is not only a talented composer but also excels in piano among his peers.”
“In my view, you lack something—experience,” Gao said, focusing on Gan Yan Yu.
“You haven’t performed in over a year, right?”
Gan Yan Yu nodded.
She gulped, trying to hide her nerves.
“Next week, there’s a concert at the Sunny Day Concert Hall.”
“No competition, but several professional media outlets will be there. They rate musicians and publish it.”
“What’s NQ?”
Lin Tian didn’t catch that.
“NobleQuest—media renowned for their focus on high-quality music, publishing their own magazine.”
Jing Zhou often has them cover major concerts, scoring performances.
If Gan Yan Yu performs well, boosting her account growth, but only recognized elites participate.
“I serve the concert committee,” Gao explained.
“Just one slot open—I’ll put you straight in. No preliminary rounds.”
“Okay.”
Lin Tian understood.
An advisor’s worth became clearer.
“However…”
Gan Yan Yu looked conflicted.
She performed smaller events abroad but hadn’t touched the domestic stage, especially venues like the Sunny Day Concert Hall, in over a year.
She worried her past skill might decline.
Screwing up would hurt much more than just her pride.
Suddenly, a hand rested on her shoulder.
She looked up, the boy gave her a thumbs-up.
“Let’s perform together!”
“Oh yes,” Gao added, “the concert allows performers to pick accompanists—you can have Mr. Lin play along.”
Gan Yan Yu’s pupils fluttered.
“Fine.”
No more hesitation.
“Another thing, have you played together?”
“No.”
“We must practice!”
Gao tensed, “Compatibility needs time—we need to hurry.”
“The concert is in two weeks!”
(End of Chapter)
