Chapter 659: Chapter 729: I Did My Best
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…
The lively bar had turned into a battleground for a literary contest.
Song He smiled calmly, took a step forward, and said, “I’ve heard that your literary talent is comndable.”
Fang Yi replied, “You flatter , I haven’t even finished elentary school, I lack education, let alone literary talent.”
When Bai Xiaohua, who hadn’t left, heard Fang Yi’s words, she suddenly felt a sense of toothache—using that as an excuse, who would believe he had never attended elentary school?
Kong Mubai said, “It’s not about flattering or not flattering, we never underestimate an opponent.”
Fang Yi chuckled, “Hehe, since that’s the case, please, esteed young masters, show your skills. I will do my best.”
“I’ll go first!”
A young man stepped forward, his eyes sharply fixed on Fang Yi, and said, “From the poetic contest you just had with Bai Xiaohua, it seems you are also skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. How about, we compete in these arts?”
This young man was from the Zhao Family, nad Zhao Liyu, and was exceptionally outstanding. As the Zhao Family was a super clan, their youth were inevitably exceptional, and Zhao Liyu was even an elite among the elites, which explained why he was one of their young masters.
As soon as Zhao Liyu spoke, Fang Yi smiled, glanced at him, and said, “Are you four planning to take on one by one?”
Song He responded, “That’s our plan indeed. If you can’t handle it, you can refuse, and we won’t be upset.”
Fang Yi laughed, his smile full of sarcasm and mockery.
Can’t handle it, can refuse?
Fang Yi knew what their strategy was—they ca prepared, ready to corner him whether he fought back or not.
If he took them on, fighting one by one could lead to a mistake, and a loss ant defeat. However, if he refused, it would show his fear, and in Tianjing, that would only lead to ridicule, greatly disadvantaging him in the future.
For them, as the Four Young Masters of Tianjing, no one would resent their actions since this was their territory, and he was just a stranger from Moon City.
This single move, though aid at humiliating Fang Yi and erasing his dignity, was terrifying enough.
To accept, or not to accept?
Fang Yi raised his eyelids, glanced at them, and said indifferently, “It seems I must accept.”
Kong Mubai said, “It’s best if you accept.”
As if agreeing with Kong Mubai’s words, Fang Yi nodded and replied, “Alright, then I’ll accept.”
The Four Young Masters, knowingly, smiled without surprise, as this was within their expectations.
Song He turned around, bowed slightly, and with a cupped fist said to the calculator master, “Since Mr. Calculator is here, may I request that you preside over our competition?”
The calculator master looked at him with a breezy expression and finally spoke.
“Don’t hold back.”
These words seed to be directed at Song He and his group.
But Fang Yi felt, vaguely, that they were intended for him.
…
“That guy is really stupid, daring to take on the four of them alone, not afraid of getting himself killed,” Bai Rou said sowhat resentfully, picking up a bottle and pouring herself so red wine.
“You really are wasting resources,” Song Hongye said dissatisfiedly, then reflected for a mont and said, “However, I think that Song He and his group might end up utterly defeated.”
Bai Rou, whose knowledge of Fang Yi was limited to that selection in the Dragon Team and much less compared to Song Hongye’s understanding, shook her head and said, “You have too much faith in him.”
Song Hongye said, “Having faith is a good thing, isn’t it?”
“`
“I have confidence in the man I’ve chosen,” Song Hongye said to herself.
…
Among the four arts of zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, the zither is the foremost. Here, the zither referred to is not a piano, but the guqin.
Song He and the others arrived prepared; the guqins laid on the table were clearly of the finest quality. Fang Yi stretched out his index finger, plucked the strings gently, the sound clear and lodious, pleasant to the ears.
Faced with the guqins on the stage, soone brought chairs, and Fang Yi sat opposite a young man, seated before the ancient instrunt.
This person was Jian Song, from the Jian Family, presumably the grandson of Elder Jian.
Jian Song gave Fang Yi a fist salute, saying, “Please.”
“Please.”
The next mont, both simultaneously plucked the strings of the guqin before them.
Instantaneously, within the bar, lingering tones floated, each lody starkly different.
“Is Jian Song playing ‘Spring River Flower Moon Night’?” Kong Mubai raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, that’s right,” Song He nodded, looking towards Fang Yi, “It’s just not known what piece Fang Yi is playing.”
‘Spring River Flower Moon Night,’ one of Xuan Cang’s ten classic guqin tunes, is eloquently simple, flowing and ever-changing, capable of conjuring a srizing nocturnal landscape at its climax—it’s the essence of this composition.
anwhile, besides Jian Song playing the guqin, another lody suddenly intruded, seemingly intending to disrupt Jian Song’s rhythm.
However, Jian Song remained composed, his expression unchanging as he played the strings.
In the bar, the music from the guqin was compelling, with the ever-present sound of pipes and strings, when suddenly a lody with a combatative tone surged.
“This lody…” Song He frowned.
“This is ‘Battle Invincible’,” Zhao Liyu suddenly spoke up, his eyes showing surprise as he looked at Fang Yi.
“Battle Invincible? What sort of piece is that, another famous tune?” asked Kong Mubai.
Zhao Liyu said, “It’s not a famous piece, but I once heard a blind qin player performing it. It made feel as though thousands of troops were charging at , capable of influencing one’s mind, truly terrifying.”
Kong Mubai furrowed his brows, “So, if Jian Song wants to beat Fang Yi, he just needs to keep his composure and he’ll win?”
Zhao Liyu responded, “That’s about right, but it will depend on whether Jian Song can hold out.”
In the arena, each played their guqins as if independent of each other, but the duel had already reached a climax unnoticed by outsiders; yet for connoisseur Jian Song, he was nearly at his limit.
Jian Song was shocked internally—what kind of piece could impact my state of mind like this?!
He desperately tried to keep his mind unaffected, his fingers speeding up over the strings—faster, faster, faster…
Snap!
A string suddenly broke.
Jian Song’s face beca slack, staring blankly at the broken string of the guqin, sowhat dazed.
Fang Yi lifted his hands, gently pressing down, restoring calm to the strings in front of him, the music abruptly dissipating. He looked at Jian Song across him and said lightly, “You’ve lost.”
Jian Song was stunned for several seconds; he stood up, said nothing, and walked to the side.
Fang Yi glanced at Song He and the others, “Who’s next?”
“Bring the Go board!” Song He commanded one of his n, stepping forward and looking at Fang Yi, “I am a seventh-dan professional in Go; I hope you won’t disappoint .”
Fang Yi replied indifferently, “I will do my best.”
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