Chapter 34: Is There Anyone Who Can Save This Song, "Guangling Melody"?

A single instrument, a solitary figure. In Luo Gan’s eyes, the grand stage was reduced to its simplest form—nothing more than this.

Brilliant colors swayed and shimmered across the stage, and the very moment Jun Tao raised her instrument, time itself seemed to halt. With a gentle smile, she exuded infinite charm—a sweet wine within arm’s reach, yet as unattainable as a lotus blooming on the distant shore.

Han Chong and Han Xiaozhi had never witnessed a scene like this. This kaleidoscopic world, with its myriad forms and colors, was something they could scarcely have imagined, even if they watched the sun set a hundred more times.

“Brother, just look at those girls up there,” Han Xiaozhi whispered, awe-struck, “they’re truly… like fragrant agarwood.”

Han Chong frowned at the odd description. “What kind of saying is that?”

Xiaozhi struggled to explain, words failing him. “I’ve always wanted to carve something out of agarwood—it really does smell wonderful!”

Han Chong clearly couldn’t understand, but amid the cheers just now, he too had found his own share of enjoyment.

Jun Tao’s fingers brushed the strings, ancient tones swirling around Luo Gan’s ears, each note extraordinary. The scales—gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu—interwove in endless combinations, breathing with the spirit of traditional Chinese music. The five elements shifted ceaselessly, birthing endless possibilities, like the progression of one to two, two to three, three to the myriad things of the world.

Even this single flourish conjured up countless beautiful visions in Luo Gan’s mind—dancing with the goddess of the moon, sailing a ship across the four seas, spreading wings to soar through the heavens…

Then, with a heavy strike on the next string, Jun Tao introduced a jarring note, not quite harmonious. Luo Gan’s brow furrowed; such composition was rare indeed. The music pressed on, by turns choked and plaintive, as though weeping and lamenting—a tragic vision of a country rent by ruin and rivers, a sorrow that tore at the heart.

If the opening notes were ambiguous, the subsequent playing stunned Luo Gan. The melody surged and plunged; while the opening was harmonious, later passages descended into chaos, as if a child were fumbling with a practice piece—disjointed and baffling.

Yet the audience erupted with applause, faces rapt with intoxication from the music.

“To hear the lost Guangling Melody in one’s lifetime—what a rare fortune!” exclaimed a scholar.

“This melody belongs in heaven,” echoed those nearby.

“To think Jun Tao is not only beautiful but so masterful at the zither!”

Was this truly Tang Dynasty taste? How could it seem so avant-garde, so modern? Had the game’s designers lost their sense of artistic aesthetics?

Luo Gan could hardly believe it, checking repeatedly to be sure his ears weren’t deceiving him. To him, the music verged on noise. He edged closer to the scholar who had just called the piece Guangling Melody.

“You spoke just now—is this really Guangling Melody?” Luo Gan asked.

The scholar replied mechanically, “To hear the lost Guangling Melody in one’s lifetime—what a rare fortune!”

What was going on? Even in ancient times, were there bots leaving reviews? NPCs programmed only to lavish praise? Buying fake fans was truly shameful!

Luo Gan was exasperated. Xiaozhi was lost in Jun Tao’s music, Han Chong’s gaze fixed blankly on A-Ning, who stood beside Jun Tao in a dress of fresh spring green, motionless.

Luo Gan waved his hand before Han Chong’s eyes. “What are you staring at, Chong?”

Han Chong murmured, “Beautiful… so beautiful…”

So this was what it meant to have one’s soul stolen. If not for the music, Luo Gan feared he might be in the same state as Han Chong right now.

Slender jade fingers danced across the strings, and joy continued to flow. Below the stage, all—whether high officials, scholars, merchants, or commoners—were enthralled by Jun Tao.

When the piece ended, Jun Tao bowed and retreated from the stage. Kuang Xiangde, the proprietor of the Wangqing Pavilion, took the stage to make an announcement, and the evening reached its most thrilling moment.

“After much fierce competition and the splendid performances of our ladies, it is time to fulfill our promise,” Kuang Xiangde declared. “The hundred gold pieces go to the Gentlemen of the Bamboo Grove!”

A hundred gold pieces was no small sum. Several strong men brought forth a tray laden with heavy gold bars, neatly arranged.

Han Chong and Han Xiaozhi stared at each other in disbelief.

“Big brother, are we really about to strike it rich? Is this real?” Xiaozhi exclaimed.

He promptly gave Han Chong a slap in the face, grinning from ear to ear. This foolish brother always reacted this way to good fortune. Han Chong looked at him, exasperated.

“Did you have to hit so hard?” Han Chong grumbled, pinching Xiaozhi’s cheek in retaliation. Xiaozhi winced, tears streaming down his face, but he kept smiling.

“It’s real! It really is!” Xiaozhi cheered.

Noticing Luo Gan lost in thought, Xiaozhi gave him a hearty slap as well.

Instantly, a flush bloomed across Luo Gan’s cheek, and in his vision, the words appeared: “You have been struck by a fool’s attack.”

“How about that, brother Luo! Now you can worry about how to spend all that money,” Xiaozhi crowed.

Luo Gan was speechless, watching as the three of them exchanged slaps to the audience’s delight. With glowing red faces, the trio ascended the stage.

Kuang Xiangde couldn’t help but laugh. “Three brave warriors—your faces shine with good fortune and joy!”

Han Chong and Xiaozhi failed to catch the gentle mockery in his words, but the audience burst into fresh waves of laughter. Luo Gan wished he could crawl into a hole and have the gold wired straight to his account.

Xiaozhi picked up one of the gold bars, bit into it in excitement, and promptly cracked a tooth. Luo Gan’s gaze drifted, searching the hall for that familiar figure. Where was she?

The three accepted the gold from Kuang Xiangde, reigniting the crowd’s enthusiasm. The waves of cheers seemed to engulf the entire county of Anping.

Following this, beauties from other regions took the stage—some with the exotic flair of the Western Regions, some with the gentle elegance of the Jiangnan lands. Fat and slender, tall and petite, each with her own charm. Anping County was deserted as everyone gathered for this visual feast.

Luo Gan left Han Chong and Xiaozhi in charge of the gold and slipped away alone.

By now, dusk had fallen. Luo Gan scoured the crowds for any sign, searching under the stage, throughout Wangqing Pavilion, along the surrounding streets—but to no avail.

As the sky darkened, Luo Gan grew increasingly anxious. Suddenly, he wondered if a game clue would lead him to her. Taking a deep breath, he slapped his own face.

With a sharp sound, a faint indicator appeared in his vision. Excited, Luo Gan hurried toward the lake beside Wangqing Pavilion.

The soft glow of sunset shimmered across the water, autumn breezes stirring the fallen leaves that landed on the lake and the ground. The air was cold; on the water, some leaves already bore a thin layer of frost.

As Luo Gan walked, searching, he finally found Jun Tao beneath a tree whose bent trunk resembled a crescent moon.

She wore a crimson fur cloak, rubbing her hands together for warmth, staring out over the lake in a daze.

Luo Gan jogged up to her, still panting slightly. Jun Tao saw it was him, and her smile lit up the fading light, her gaze bright and warm as sunlight breaking through the clouds.

“So, it’s you?” she said. “And why… is your face so red?”