Chapter Thirty: The Perfect Fusion of Classical and Modern

Early the next morning, Yang Xiaofan drove his Ferrari straight to the school gymnasium.

This had been arranged by Qin Nuanyu the day before. In the week leading up to the freshman welcome party, he could come to the gym every morning to rehearse his performance.

Many students from other classes were already there as well.

The annual freshman welcome party was a school tradition; sometimes even local TV stations and some online platforms would pay for the rights to broadcast it live.

So, the school took it very seriously.

When Yang Xiaofan arrived in his Ferrari, quite a few students looked on with envy.

They were all university students, yet when they looked at Yang Xiaofan and then at themselves, the difference was stark.

Sour grapes indeed.

“Xiaofan, you’re here.”

Qin Nuanyu had been waiting at the entrance to the gym. As soon as she saw him, she jogged over, breakfast in hand.

Seeing this scene, countless students felt another wave of envy.

Yang Xiaofan fixed his gaze mischievously on Qin Nuanyu’s lips and grinned.

“How was the milk tea yesterday?”

Qin Nuanyu shot him a fierce glare.

“Say one more word and I’ll ignore you.”

Yang Xiaofan quickly surrendered, raising his hands in mock defeat.

“My fault.”

Only then did Qin Nuanyu allow herself a satisfied smile.

“Hmph! Let’s see if you dare talk nonsense again.”

“I won’t. But—tonight, can I buy you the second cup of autumn milk tea?”

Qin Nuanyu’s face flushed bright red in an instant.

“Rascal, hurry up and get inside for rehearsal. If you mess up the welcome party, you’ll never get to buy me milk tea again!”

Yang Xiaofan snapped his fingers.

“Understood.”

The two entered the gymnasium, which was already bustling with students rehearsing, everyone busy and preoccupied.

However, one spot was particularly crowded with students.

“Yiyi, we love you!”

“Go Yiyi, you’re the best!”

Yang Xiaofan glanced at the girl surrounded by the crowd, puzzled.

“Is she a celebrity? Why are so many people around her?”

Qin Nuanyu’s expression grew a shade more serious as she looked over.

“She’s Chen Yi—very famous as a streamer. She’s hugely popular on Tiger Fang, with over a million fans, more than a lot of pop singers. She has a big following at our school, too. She’ll be your strongest rival for first place.”

“Oh? Strongest? Are you sure?”

Yang Xiaofan narrowed his eyes slightly, a faint smile playing at his lips.

His singing skills were now at a grandmaster level, easily matching the very best in the business.

Little Yiyi might have some talent, but she was no superstar.

Qin Nuanyu, seeing through his thoughts, rolled her eyes at him.

“I know you sing well, but don’t get too cocky. Pride comes before a fall.”

“Huh? You have so little faith in your man? How about a wager?”

“What are we betting on?”

Yang Xiaofan grinned mischievously.

“I’ll steal all her fans right now. If I succeed, you’ll have that second cup of milk tea with me tonight.”

“And if you fail?”

“Then I’ll buy you the second cup.”

“Deal!”

Qin Nuanyu had just nodded in agreement when she suddenly felt something was off. She immediately reached out, pinched the soft flesh at Yang Xiaofan’s waist with two fingers, and gave it a good twist.

“Are you asking for trouble? Either way, I lose!”

Yang Xiaofan smiled confidently.

“Makes no difference—because I won’t lose!”

That unshakably confident look made Qin Nuanyu’s heart race.

What she couldn’t resist most was this very confidence of Yang Xiaofan; it could win her over in a heartbeat.

Yang Xiaofan, however, didn’t dwell on it, and made his way straight to the instrument desk.

But to his dismay, all the good instruments had already been picked out by other classes. Only a few pipa and erhus remained.

As for the African drums and such, Yang Xiaofan didn’t even consider them.

Absolutely impossible to use as accompaniment.

Qin Nuanyu approached and frowned when she saw the situation.

“Xiaofan, I’m sorry. I got back too late last night and forgot to reserve the instruments.”

Yang Xiaofan gently rubbed her head, comforting her.

“It’s fine. I can play anything.”

As he spoke, he pointed to one of the pipas.

“Could I have that one, please?”

“Of course,” replied the student in charge, handing him the pipa.

“You’re going to use a pipa?”

Qin Nuanyu could hardly believe her eyes.

The pipa was a classic traditional Chinese instrument, but nowadays, very few people played it—especially boys.

Yang Xiaofan’s singing was superb, but if his pipa skills didn’t match, wouldn’t that ruin the whole performance?

“Xiaofan, maybe I should ask the school—maybe we can still get a guitar or something?”

“No need. This will do. Classical instruments are just as good as modern ones.”

With that, he returned to his rehearsal spot, found a stool, and sat down.

He took a deep breath, called up the ‘God-making Project’ panel, and in the instruments section, spent a million to raise his proficiency to grandmaster level.

The next moment, a flood of musical knowledge filled his mind.

A smile curled at his lips as he began to pluck the pipa strings.

A melodious sound rang out, sending shivers down the spines of the students rehearsing nearby.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, drawn by the music, and looked over at Yang Xiaofan.

He entered a state of flow and continued to play.

“The smoky air of the teppanyaki shop lingers…”

He’d chosen to sing “Nunchaku,” an upbeat song.

But with both his singing and instrumental skills at grandmaster level, the blend was seamless, almost unimaginably powerful.

Qin Nuanyu clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with astonishment, afraid she might scream out loud.

He was too good!

Yang Xiaofan’s singing and playing were the best she’d ever witnessed.

Even the Chinese music scene’s most acclaimed stars might not match his performance in that moment.

And here he was, using a pipa to accompany “Nunchaku.”

It was a perfect fusion of classical and modern styles.

Looking across the world, few could hope to achieve such a feat.

Most importantly—how many times had Yang Xiaofan surprised her like this already?

Every time she thought she understood him, he would amaze her all over again.

Just how many more surprises did this man have up his sleeve?