The whole process can be briefly summarized in three steps: Qi Wen appeared, Qi Wen lunged forward, Qi Wen was gone.
Don't forget that Huai Shi was still on fire, and even though the color had changed, its essence hadn't. The flas, fused with a large amount of Apocalypse and negative energy Source Substance, were simply a Soul Furnace. Even Qi Wen in his lifeti would have definitely died from such a plunge, let alone a shoddy replica hastily made.
Not just Huai Shi, even Clent was shocked. He hadn't expected the mass of Source Substance he'd exhausted to summon such a colossal mistake.
He had no idea that the flas on Huai Shi actually had the ability to incinerate Source Substance. He only saw the old man, filled with resentnt, dissipate as if he had rely bumped into Huai Shi.
It was as though his wish had been fulfilled and he had ascended to Heaven.
So, the biggest sin this guy committed in his life was, at most, spitting on soone's shoes for no good reason? Where the hell did this Saint co from?
"Stunned, aren't you! I'm an ally of justice!"
Huai Shi, recovering, burst into laughter. He hid the cold sweat on his back and charged at Clent again. Then, the Skull of the Succubus cleaved down with a moan!
The Cavalry Sword shattered on impact.
Not expecting his killer move, into which he had poured so much Source Substance, to be utterly useless, Clent's reaction was sluggish. The Cavalry Sword slipped from his hand after breaking.
Then, he saw Huai Shi reverse the flail's handle, aiming the sharp end of the Shackles at him in a smashing downward strike!
Clent's expression changed drastically. He stepped back to steady himself, instinctively reaching out to block the descending Shackles. But then, he felt the Shackles were unexpectedly light and offered no resistance.
Huai Shi hadn't exerted any force at all.
It was as if he'd just made a feint, then let go, allowing Clent to snatch the Shackles.
Damn it...
In that instant, Clent thought he saw a mocking smile behind the gas mask.
. . .
When the violin music began, the alumni in the front row of the auditorium remained smiling. After a polite round of applause, they continued chatting about their previous topics—investnts, options, or the hidden stories behind so recent minor shuffles in their departnts.
The youngest person sitting here was nearly forty. After weathering so many storms, honestly, they couldn't really muster much interest in this modest show by their alma mater. It was more about enjoying the atmosphere and revisiting past mories.
A few seed to notice the young man playing the violin on stage, giving a slight nod.
"Fengning, look at this one. He's quite good-looking, has a nice image."
"Indeed. With so grooming, he definitely has debut potential. We can get in touch if there's a chance later." The graceful woman nodded slightly, then looked towards the old man next to her. "I'm not too knowledgeable about the violin. What do you think, Professor Zhao?"
The old man beside her, who was peeling an orange, paused as if listening. Soon, he couldn't help but frown. "The violin is no good."
The principal, who had been smiling apologetically, saw his expression stiffen for a mont. He then looked a bit embarrassed, not knowing how he might have offended this venerable predecessor.
Zhao Yu was seventy-four this year. In terms of seniority, he was soone the principal's own father would have had to respect. Thirty years ago, he was already a professor at Dongxia Music Academy, a nationally renowned violinist, and a leading authority in string theory.
In the world of classical music, even if one couldn't dictate life and death with a single word, such a critique seed too cruel for a young person like Huai Shi, who aspired to excel in this professional field.
"What I an is, the violin itself, it's no good."
After peeling the orange, the old man didn't eat it. He simply placed the segnts on a napkin, piling them up like a small mound. Then, as if understanding the principal's unease, he explained, "His foundation is solid, a promising talent, but the violin itself is no good. Remind him later not to use a factory-made instrunt anymore; he'll ruin his technique with it."
"..."
The principal heaved a sigh of relief, wiped sweat from his brow, and explained to Old Zhao, "He's a child who has endured much hardship. It hasn't been easy for him to persevere until today."
Just as he was about to explain further, he saw Old Zhao raise his hand and wave it dismissively.
Old Zhao's downcast eyes finally lifted, gazing toward the stage.
"More talk is of no use."
His eyes, clouded slightly by cataracts, fixed on the young man's bowed head. He seed to be taking him seriously now. "Let's listen first," he said.
From that mont, the faint noise and clamor from below the stage gradually vanished.
Until at last, it beca profound silence.
Because the lody had gradually begun to resonate.
It was hard to imagine that this violin music, which was beyond words, could carry such full emotion. It flowed like a fountain, bringing a slight chill and softness that spread from beneath one's feet.
Winter?
Old Zhao's eyebrows lifted slightly, his expression becoming progressively more solemn.
Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" concertos were indeed classic pieces in the violin repertoire. However, the more classic they were, the more they tended to be confined by past interpretations and performances, making it hard to find new aning.
But where could such full and palpable emotions be coming from?
At first, it was like a soft breeze blowing. Before one knew it, it had beco a storm that pierced the soul.
With the cello's unique deep timbre, the soul hidden within the body seed to tremble to the sound of the violin. The increasingly intense lody entered an ever-tighter rhythm, finally transforming into a blizzard, ruthlessly and fervently enveloping everything.
It was as if thunderstorms raged and the earth shook.
Within the hurried rhythm of harsh winter, all joy and delight were suppressed in this unspeakable prelude. But as a clear, bright note erged from the storm of hardship, the blockade of the storm cracked open a gap.
Following that, a lody as wild as galloping horses burst forth from the prelude, climbing to a crescendo, soaring with the string sounds, leaving behind the oppressions and snowstorms of the past, and racing freely.
All things sang in jubilation.
The brisk lody was reborn from the low notes of hardship, soared into the sky, and sprinkled down the dew of hope like rainwater.
At that instant, Old Zhao couldn't help but let out a long breath. It was as if he saw ti flowing backward, returning to those poor, confused days of his youth.
Those beautiful, painful, seemingly desperate hardships, and those pathways leading to a hopeful future…
All of it: himself staggering forward through the cold winter, and the dawn at the end of the Sky Do, pursued by countless people.
A reminiscent smile touched the corner of his lips.
Even his stern eyes softened. He closed them slowly, basking in this rare mont of relaxation and joy.
When the violin's lody gradually faded, silence descended.
In the vast auditorium, all was quiet. In that prolonged hush, it seed as though everyone was savoring the lingering notes in their mories.
At last, the silence was finally broken by Old Zhao's approving applause.
Then, like a raging storm, a torrent of applause engulfed everything, and fervent shouts ca from the audience.
On the chair, Huai Shi MK-II rose, nodded reservedly, and bowed in gratitude.
A graceful smile touched his lips.
"Touching, heavenly music."
In the alumni section, even the most critical spectators couldn't help but offer their applause, nodding in admiration. "Watching that kid play takes back to my youth."
"Oh, please. You were too timid back then to compare with him," soone shot a glance at the man, unable to resist deflating him. But recalling the music, they still couldn't help but praise, "Truly a genius. Even soone like , with no ear for music, nearly teared up."
The graceful lady from before already had reddened eyes. She picked up the microphone and asked directly, "An outstanding performance, young man! What inspired you to play such miraculous music?"
It's the Potion. I dosed them! Twenty milligrams of Love Potion plus one milligram of Clear Wake Dream, finally mixed into one hundred milliliters of alcohol to create a volatile Alchemy Potion. When skill is lacking, technology will help. Seriously, if the dosage were higher, I could make a pig cry, let alone a person.
Of course, he couldn't say that out loud.
On stage, the young man stood up and replied with a smile, "A little bit of talent, and relentless effort. Thank you, everyone."
With that, he took two steps back and turned to walk backstage.
"Such politeness!"
The principal, still imrsed in the emotion of the mont, didn't forget to turn to the elderly man beside him. "Old Zhao, what do you think?"
After pondering for a long ti, Old Zhao couldn't help but sigh. "These rising stars are truly formidable… Every ti I see such young people, I feel old. By the way, did you just say he's planning to go professional?"
The principal nodded, his eyes sparkling.
"Ms. Li, let have him," the old man said, looking toward the similarly interested woman on his left. "Such a promising talent would be wasted at Yaochi Entertainnt."
"Now, now, pop music is music too. Besides, the kid has idol potential."
Although she said that, neither was serious enough to fight over a young person. Ms. Li just smiled and reminded, "Young people willing to take the hard path of classical music are fewer these days. If he changes his mind later, you can't bla ."
"He has talent."
Old Zhao, leaning on the table, rose slowly and looked towards the principal. "Could you accompany backstage?"
"Of course!"
The principal nodded enthusiastically.
Five minutes later, Huai Shi MK-II looked at the smiling old man standing before him, seemingly not registering what was happening, clueless to the situation.
Seeing him at a loss, the principal quickly interjected, "Old Zhao is an internationally acclaid perforr! The etudes you're practicing were written by him. You've always wanted to go professional, right? What are you waiting for with such a great opportunity?"
He frantically winked at Huai Shi, signaling him to nod quickly.
If the real Huai Shi were here, he would surely have been ecstatic.
Unfortunately, standing here wasn't Huai Shi but a cold, unfeeling humanoid repeater—Huai Shi MK-II—and its pilot.
Guaranteed admission to Dongxia Music Academy? A famous perforr's closed-door disciple? What's that about? Absolutely not! Huai Shi has to join in becoming a Sublimator!
Upon hearing this old fellow wanted to poach the tender new talent from her own backyard, Raven was fifteen thousand tis displeased. If she herself were there, she'd have rolled her eyes and dismissed him without a second thought. Unfortunately, now wearing Huai Shi's face, she had to consider the impact and could only smile in gratitude before politely declining.
Although his decision was unexpected, Old Zhao didn't persist or beco angry. He just nodded, left a business card for Huai Shi, and then turned to leave.
"Although pop music is more popular, true art still resides in classical music." Before leaving, Old Zhao added, "If you change your mind, call anyti. I'll be in Jinling for the next few months."
"Okay."
Huai Shi MK-II smiled, accepted the business card, and then sneakily tossed it into a corner.
Just as he turned around, he saw that the corridor behind him was already filled with youthful and beautiful female students, countless tender looks fixed upon his face.
In astonishnt, Huai Shi MK-II couldn't help but slap his forehead.
Oops, looks like I overdid the Potion a bit… I'm out of practice. No, I shouldn't have used Huai Shi's usual dosage as a baseline; even one-tenth of that was too much… But what now? I'll just play along for now. The effects will wear off eventually, and things will return to normal.
With that thought, Huai Shi MK-II stylishly adjusted his hair and turned back with a smile.
"Are you young ladies here to see ?"
As he moved, the afternoon sun shone on his exquisite and handso side profile. The mischievous smile on his lips seed to carry an invisible, infectious charm, rendering his handso face even more roguishly attractive.
At this mont, the signature professional smile directly taught by Liu DongLi, the number one Cowherd, had already surpassed the master's.
Amidst a chorus of delighted gasps, Huai Shi MK-II opened his arms and was engulfed by the crowd of teenage girls.
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