Chapter 335: Let Xiao Gan Help You Compose a New Song
Dragon Zither Cup.
As the most prestigious cello competition in Tianchao held every two years, it operates on an invitation-only basis. Ordinary folks can’t just sign up; provinces only have 2-3 slots, and candidates are recommended by their local Music Association and Cello Association.
And aside from the champions of officially sanctioned provincial competitions who get a free pass, one or two of the strongest cellists from the province will be specially invited.
In short, the sky-high entry requirements and the brutal elimination process make the Dragon Zither Cup the pinnacle of recognition in the music world.
Winning the Dragon Zither Cup doesn’t automatically crown you “The Best in Tianchao” — but if you ARE “The Best in Tianchao,” you definitely have the cup under your belt. That’s just how significant the cup is.
Yet even before the match officially started, Lin Tian and Gan Yan Yu had already garnered a ton of attention, both inside and outside the venue.
And this attention? It was like loading two cans of soda with a Mentos grenade — the pressure was bound to explode!
Choosing the right piece? Oh boy, now that’s a techie problem.
Despite Gan Yan Yu proclaiming she’d conquered the stage, Lin Tian still couldn’t trust her 100%. Not because he doubted her skill, but rather her poor little body.
After all, it was the Dragon Zither Cup stage! Lin Tian had to be cautious. He didn’t want this to come crashing down because of some unexpected performance blunder.
“What piece should I choose?”
That night, Lin Tian sat in front of the piano in his apartment deep in thought.
The piece needed to be suitable for both him and Gan Yan Yu, not too simple but also not too complex. It had to be classical but also accessible. The key ingredient? It HAD to be “good music.”
Yeah, “good music” was crucial.
The predicted competitors were all going for pop music. The magic of pop? It’s poppin’ with low barriers for understanding and appreciation, making it easy for most people to groove to the beat and get that positive feedback.
So, Lin Tian had to whip up a piece that was “good,” but not in that posh, elitist way—more like that instant “good” vibe for the average young crowd out there.
“You know, just good.”
The word “good” was starting to spin around in Lin Tian’s head.
But merely being “good” wouldn’t cut it; the piece needed layers, intricacies—otherwise, Gan Yan Yu wouldn’t be able to shine through in her performance.
What on earth should he even pick?
Lin Tian, usually a creative whirlwind, suddenly found himself hitting an artistic wall.
“Ding-dong~ ding-dong~”
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
Who could that be at this hour?
Lin Tian felt a bit flustered when suddenly, the door clicked open with a code input.
In walked Gan Yan Yu, sporting a thin black spaghetti strap nightdress and slippers, carrying a plate of freshly washed cherry tomatoes.
“Wow, Lin Tian, still practicing so late?” she chimed.
“More like composing,” he replied.
“Hard work pays off!”
Gan Yan Yu placed the plate on the table, the little tomatoes gleaming like gems.
“I bought these from downstairs. They looked delicious, so I washed a plate for you!”
“Nice unlocking skills you got there…” Lin Tian could not resist a jab.
“Oh, I didn’t want to trouble you if you were busy,” she replied breezily.
“Wouldn’t that mean if I were busy, you probably shouldn’t have barged in?” he countered.
“Good point…” Gan Yan Yu beamed with a lightbulb moment.
Lin Tian chuckled, reminiscing about when they first met. Back then, she’d hesitate over every little thing, even asking before sitting on the couch.
The times when Gan Yan Yu was all skinny and shy had him feeling guilty just daydreaming.
Now, he was practically wishing for a daily romp in the hay.
“Are we talking about the competition piece? What part are you at?” she asked, leaning in and popping one of those cherry tomatoes up to Lin Tian’s mouth! He opened his mouth like a baby bird and bit into the fruit.
“Not started yet?” she noted, seeing his blank manuscript.
Lin Tian always jotted down songs by hand first before typing them up, and finding no ink on the page indicated he hadn’t even begun.
“Hit a snag?” she inquired.
“Yeah…” Lin Tian scratched his head, sporting a “I’m stuck” face.
Actually, calling it a “snag” wasn’t quite right. With a world of music in his head, he could surely search and pluck a tune that fit his criteria.
He just wanted the perfect one for their first contest in the Dragon Zither Cup.
“What kind of snag? Share it with me!”
Gan Yan Yu scooted a chair over and nestled beside him.
Lin Tian glanced at her, a bit surprised.
“Although I haven’t really studied composition, I get the feeling that performing and composing have a lot in common,” she said, raising her finger like a wise sage.
“Maybe if you spill your thoughts, I can throw some good ideas your way!”
Lin Tian was still in a daze. How on earth was he supposed to respond to that?
Gan Yan Yu then lowered her voice, adding, “You can’t carry the pressure all by yourself!”
She peered into Lin Tian’s eyes, the guilt bubbling to the surface.
It struck her that while he was burning the midnight oil worrying about their piece, she was just downstairs munching on fruit.
“Somebody is always gobbling down food!” she chided herself.
Lin Tian was working his a** off while she just leisurely nibbled!
If someone was to indulge, it should be LIN TIAN!
With that thought, she bit her lip, snatched a tomato, and shoved it into Lin Tian’s mouth.
After he swallowed one, she popped in another.
Before long, Lin Tian’s mouth was so stuffed that he was swaying, hands flailing for mercy as Gan Yan Yu kept shoveling them in.
She finally paused.
“Not gonna eat anymore?”
“Can’t fit anymore in!”
“Sweet, right?”
“Super sweet!”
“…”
Gan Yan Yu’s expression softened up a bit.
Looking at her, Lin Tian suddenly found himself at a loss for words. What was she thinking?
The reason he was stuck earlier? Gan Yan Yu wanted to brainstorm together, but how to reply to that?
His “composition style” wasn’t about the gentle, gradual inspiration like most composers. Nope! Lin Tian was more of a sonic firehose—once something clicked in his brain, he could spit it all out in one go.
“Then what’s bothering you, Lin Tian?” Gan Yan Yu pressed.
“…”
Lin Tian pondered a bit then turned the tables with a question:
“Teacher Gan, how are you feeling with the Dragon Zither Cup right around the corner?”
“What does that have to do with anything…”
“Everything, buddy! Everything!”
“Okay!”
Even though it felt weird for her to be called “buddy,” Gan Yan Yu was pursing her lips in concentration.
Eventually, she said sincerely, “I’m really excited!”
“What kind of excited?”
Lin Tian prodded. “There are many flavors of excitement—‘I’m a step closer to the Ke’er Cup!’ kind, or ‘I’m thrilled to face off against the top fiddlers in the country!’ type.”
“Both, really,” said Gan Yan Yu, “but the most thrilling part is being on the stage of the Dragon Zither Cup!”
“The stage of the Dragon Zither Cup?”
“Yep, Baijing International Concert Hall!”
Gan Yan Yu beamed, “You took pictures of it yesterday, remember?”
With that, she leapt up from the chair, pacing the room.
“When I was in the UK, I frequently dreamed of being on the stage of Baijing Concert Hall, playing for an audience that loves music and the cello.”
“Isn’t it incredible? It’s still hard to fathom that I’m really here at Baijing, really at the Baijing International Concert Hall, and soon to perform there!”
As she spoke, her steps became lighter, and she tiptoed ahead, turning back to smile at Lin Tian.
“If… if I could make it to the finals and perform on the highest stage, even if I lost, I’d have no regrets, right?”
“…”
Seeing her smile, Lin Tian froze.
Indeed, this had always been Gan Yan Yu’s dream.
Performing on the stage she had yearned for.
And for many musicians, it was the same.
But in Gan Yan Yu’s world, “the stage” had two meanings.
The first meaning is the physical “Baijing International Concert Hall,” that glorious, sacred place every musician dreams of.
The second is the abstract notion of a stage that signifies the peak competition between Tianchao’s cellists—what Gan Yan Yu referred to as the “finals.”
For a cellist, being able to perform on the stage that decides who will represent Tianchao was THE dream.
That performance would inevitably shine as the brightest star in one’s memory, regardless of how many shows or songs one played afterward.
The Dragon Zither Cup finals would forever stick in one’s mind.
And this had always been Gan Yan Yu’s aspiration.
To stand on the “highest” stage and share her music with the world.
Suddenly, Lin Tian had an epiphany.
Got it!
He quickly scribbled the title of the piece onto his manuscript—
“Danube Blue.”
(End of Chapter)
