Chapter 1235: Chapter 1042: A One-Man Instrument Show Chapter 1235: Chapter 1042: A One-Man Instrument Show The commentators from Zhong Continent were green with envy!
The audience in the live broadcast was climaxing in an instant!
“Oh my God!”
“Why is it this Fish again!”
“Lingering like a shadow, omnipresent, penetrating everywhere!”
“Didn’t the host say before that Fish only composes piano pieces, and there are only a few piano works?”
“What about the erhu pieces from the past two days!?”
“And what’s with these flute-like instruments now!?”
“The commentators are full of hot air, how many times have we been slapped in the face by Xian Yu these days? Aside from pop songs, Fish is clearly proficient in more than one instrument!”
“Isn’t the most bizarre thing the name of this piece?”
“Hometown?”
“Scenery?”
“It’s not exactly the same, it’s totally identical!”
“Please, Mr. Ito Makoto, you must agree to help us, Zhong Continent, to take revenge!”
Revenge!
Must take revenge!
If it’s a song competition, it’s very common to have matching genres and themes.
Like the pop category competitions.
Most are love songs.
However, in the instrumental category, having matching themes is rare, let alone back-to-back songs entering the finals, not only choosing the Blue Star flute but even the damn titles are carved from the same mold!
It’s too much of a coincidence!
This is the biggest coincidence that happened on the stage of the Blue Songlympics.
And this coincidence just happens to involve Xian Yu, who has been fancy displaying his musical talent through erhu pieces these past two days!
Under various backgrounds.
The two pieces formed a subtle opposition!
Thoughts of revenge immediately filled the brains of the Zhong Continent audience!
For the Zhong Continent audience, every encounter with Xian Yu means a battle of revenge!
Zhong Continent has won so many gold medals, yet they are always unable to deal with Fish, which has almost become a heart disease for countless Middle State people!
The only cure is to eradicate this Fish!
Some Zhong Continent viewers have even begun to pray in their hearts.
…
On the stage.
The player from Qin Continent, Lu Yan’an, focused, slowly picked up the Blue Star flute.
The silver of the Blue Star flute, similar to a terrestrial ocarina, but more expressive and with a wider range of octaves.
Among all the peculiar expressions.
The pure sound of running water suddenly resonated.
As if coming from the deep and quiet forest.
This was the prelude to the piece, serving as a background accompaniment.
Instrumental competitions have certain limitations on the ratio of accompanying sounds, but it’s impossible to restrict completely. Otherwise, the expressive power of solo instruments would not be strong enough, damaging the integrity of the piece. This rule is very humanized; after all, singers’ duels can’t just be a cappella, there must be accompaniment arrangers to aid.
The sound of water echoes in the empty valley.
The two sounds seemed to call to each other from afar.
The booming bass struck on every downbeat, as if clearing away all the haze.
The sound of the Blue Star flute began.
Everything was so harmonious and natural.
Natural enough to make one feel completely relaxed.
At this moment.
Everyone’s expression changed.
And in the fleeting changes, the sound of the Blue Star flute seemed to penetrate everyone’s heart, like a divine melody from childhood.
Some gently closed their eyes.
As if everyone entered into a dream, strange yet familiar, and their thoughts couldn’t help but float away.
…
Is that deep in the memory?
The breeze from the mountains hit the face.
The blue sky bore the imprint of birds flying.
Bamboo sways gently in the mountain wind.
Amidst the lush greens, the sweet scent of soil and flowers permeates.
The theory of grandeur in simplicity is timeless; the traditional pentatonic chord seems to naturally fit the human ear, as if to awaken the always-remembered landscape hidden in the heart:
The music drifts.
Like a high mountain’s gentle howl.
Like a deep valley’s contemplation.
Clouds on the horizon stretch out, interlinked.
Wisp of cooking smoke spirals long and far.
People seemed to be led back to their hometown:
The innocent and cheerful childhood, the vibrant green rice paddies swaying under the Sunlight, and the familiar chorus of frogs coming from the rice fields;
Barefoot.
Children running in the fields, letting mud splash onto their faces, accompanied by the idle cicadas in the shade of the trees;
Beneath the trees.
The clear stream flows slowly, as if it could reach far away.
The splintered sunlight through the leaves sprinkled on the dirty clothes in speckles.
So uplifting.
Yet so sorrowful.
The people walking on the road.
Walking and growing up.
Walking and walking away.
The true meaning is within, yet the desire to argue has been forgotten.
Who knows when the Sunlight ceased to be mottled, only stretching shadows longer.
The sun rises, and the moon sets.
The wanderer at the world’s edge.
The tourist abroad.
Besides the weariness, there’s an endless inner voice.
But in a sudden recollection, you can still vaguely see the homeland’s scenery.
The pressure of life seems to be unladen at this moment, and the people used to pretending in the urban steel forest smile anew on their faces.
High mountains and flowing water.
Insects chirping, frogs croaking.
The little courtyard at the entrance of the village.
Such a hometown doesn’t belong to everyone, but it seems like everyone once had it, because it is the hometown of the heart.
…
The Blue Star flute suddenly rose an octave.
The intensity of violins and percussion strengthened.
The audience’s emotions seemed to fly away with the blue sky and white clouds, and feelings exploded continuously in the main melody.
The climax of the piece came suddenly, yet naturally.
As if nostalgia spreads, but precisely washes away the vicissitudes of the heart.
This is the original landscape of the hometown.
It is also a life’s ink painting.
Sorrow wanders peacefully and comfortably.
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