Chapter 162: Childhood Sweethearts

Zhai Lin's face was ashen.

The lingering notes of The Flight of the Bumblebee still echoed in his ears, and the entire venue was resounding with cries for Uncle A. This mounting pressure made Zhai Lin, who was already lacking in self-confidence, feel even more frozen and clumsy.

He sat before the piano, failing to strike the first note for a long time.

He now somewhat understood the masked superhero's act of fleeing without a fight. Under such immense pressure, mustering the courage to earnestly play an entire piano piece from start to finish required extraordinary resolve.

In the realm of piano, Zhai Lin had always been arrogant; his finger speed completely crushed the vast majority of pianists and could even rival some renowned grand maestros.

Yet, if asked to play The Flight of the Bumblebee, he did not possess the absolute confidence to keep it entirely error-free.

Consequently, cold sweat broke out all over his body.

Off stage, Yang Jie, Qi Mu, and Zheng Junyi all wore grim expressions.

If Zhai Lin was a formidable opponent capable of striking fear into one's heart, then Uncle A was a towering Mount Tai of despair—unscalable and unbeatable.

"Clink, clink, clink, dong—"

Soon, under the crushing pressure, Zhai Lin's hands moved slightly, and he began to play.

The judges noted that after listening for merely a few seconds, Spielberg sighed and shook his head.

"He has already lost."

This was the consensus in everyone's minds.

Zhai Lin was famous for his finger speed, excelling at high-difficulty virtuosic techniques. But now, influenced by the external atmosphere, although his finger speed remained swift, it had entirely lost its agility. Like a headless fly, his fingers crashed haphazardly across the keys, devoid of any aesthetic grace.

Within a mere ten seconds, he had already missed two notes.

Witnessing this, Spielberg could finally no longer contain himself and turned to ask Lin Weiyin, "Lin, is A exceptionally renowned in China?"

Lin Weiyin paused for a moment. "No, he has just emerged. Before this competition, hardly anyone knew of his existence."

"Good grief!"

Spielberg exclaimed in disbelief, "Is that really so? China truly is a place of hidden dragons and crouching tigers!"

Soon, the performance concluded.

A dead silence fell over the venue.

There was no applause, nor much commotion.

The host, Zhang Hai, invited Uncle A and Zhai Lin to stand on either side.

Everyone raised their heads, awaiting the verdict of the judges.

Soon, the voting results from the eight judges were tallied, and every single one of them had cast their vote for Uncle A!

"A's performance level has transcended this competition; he ought to be sitting in my seat."

Wilde, a council member of the Vienna Music Association, praised admiringly, "I love this piece of yours. What is it called?"

"The Flight of the Bumblebee," Liao Yuan replied.

The judges exchanged glances.

"The music suits its name brilliantly," Wilde laughed heartily.

Several other judges likewise expressed their admiration for The Flight of the Bumblebee.

"I am quite curious what kind of face is hidden beneath your mask," Spielberg shrugged. "When do you plan to take it off? After the grand finals? Ah, let me tell you, once you remove that mask, countless troubles will await you."

Roars of laughter erupted through the venue.

As everyone knew, Spielberg was the global champion of the inaugural Emperor and Four Kings tournament, having fought his way through all the rounds while wearing a mask.

Back then, the Emperor and Four Kings tournament was nowhere near as explosive in popularity as it was now, but even so, once Spielberg's identity was exposed, his world tours were packed to capacity almost every single night. It propelled him from an obscure piano teacher into the ranks of international grand masters, bestowing upon him immense wealth.

Now, Spielberg was using his personal experience to impart a lesson, warning Uncle A of the tribulations that would follow the removal of his mask.

Yet, this was a tribulation that many could only dream of experiencing.

At that moment, Lin Weiyin looked at Liao Yuan and said, "I know who you are. I look forward to the day you take off your mask."

Another uproar swept through the arena.

The judges also looked astonished, repeatedly pressing Lin Weiyin for answers.

However, Lin Weiyin merely maintained a faint smile and remained silent.

Seeing the chaotic scene, the host hurriedly stepped in and announced, "Alright, now, congratulations to Uncle A for winning the match, taking over the sovereignty, and accumulating one point. Next, in order, you will accept the challenge from contestant Qi Mu."

Qi Mu was in his early forties, an age no longer considered young in the piano profession. His finger speed was inevitably affected, so he did not attempt to challenge Uncle A's terrifying velocity.

As a renowned professor in the Music Department of the Central Academy of Drama, participating in the Emperor and Four Kings tournament brought Qi Mu immense fame, but it also entailed tremendous risk. Everyone hoped Professor Qi would win the championship and bring glory to the school. Fortunately, fighting his way through the rounds, he had not辜负 the high expectations of his students and colleagues, making it all the way to the China Finals.

Whether facing Yang Jie or Zheng Junyi, Professor Qi felt confident in his ability to put up a fight.

However, due to his age, he harbored deep reservations about Zhai Lin, who excelled in finger speed.

And now, having witnessed Uncle A's The Flight of the Bumblebee and observed those superhuman finger movements, Qi Mu felt as though his heart condition was about to act up.

"I won't fall for it! Only an idiot would compete with you on finger speed!"

After casting a glance at Uncle A, Qi Mu quietly seated himself at the piano, raised his hands slightly, and began to play.

The notes sounded like a kite soaring through the blue sky and white clouds, swaying gently in the breeze.

This piece was called Childhood Sweethearts, one of Professor Qi's representative works in the industry, frequently practiced by numerous students.

The entire piece focused on delicate emotions, portraying the most precious feelings of mankind to the world.

Simultaneously, Professor Qi closed his eyes and began silent rehearsal in his mind.

Benefiting from his age, Professor Qi's piano music possessed a delicate emotional depth that others lacked. These emotions transformed into gentle streams of notes, echoing in the ears of the eighty thousand people present, deeply touching everyone who heard them.

Before the sweet plums ripened, the plums withered, fragrance covered the ground, and the bamboo horse was nowhere to be seen. The bamboo horse grew old, yearning stretched for ten thousand miles, and from then on, everyone I fell in love with looked like you.

Many in the audience felt their eyes turn red, and some even shed tears.

Echoing in their minds was the beauty of first love and the nostalgic memories of past romances.

Lin Weiyin and the others nodded slightly, affirming Professor Qi's performance.

A professional pianist required not only professional finger speed, but also the emotional depth fitting for a professional grade. Professor Qi clearly surpassed most in emotional expression, reaching a truly concert-level prowess.

When the piece ended, warm applause erupted throughout the arena. Some even stood up, desperately clapping for Professor Qi.

Music knows no borders; it has the power to move souls.

By infusing his personal recollections of the past and his earliest emotions into the piano notes, Professor Qi had undoubtedly created a remarkably successful piece.

And today, under immense pressure, Professor Qi had delivered an extraordinary, beyond-normal performance.

As the melody faded, he remained seated at the piano, deeply immersed in emotion, unable to extricate himself.

This posture moved the audience even more profoundly.