Chapter 125: Electromagnetic Cannon

In the global music scene, there is a profound inequality between the status of pop music and classical music. While the former enjoys a broader audience, it is considered too colloquial, offering little professional value beyond being merely pleasant to the ear. Classical music, however, occupies the opposite extreme. With its intricate techniques, complex music theory, and countless modes and performance styles, it has been fervently revered from antiquity to the present day.

In ancient times, classical music was the exclusive domain of the aristocracy and the royal court, a genre championed and pursued by the elite. In those days, commoners had neither the status nor the opportunity to listen to a piano recital. What they could enjoy was limited to genres like rock or jazz, usually performed for their own amusement. Even in modern times, universities primarily teach classical music. Professors often view electronic music, dance tracks, rock, and R&B with disdain; some extremists even dismiss these genres as worthless.

However, for true grand pianists, music is not divided by class, but only by quality. This is why the renowned grand pianist Lin Weiyin has attended the Emperor and Four Kings Piano Competition for two consecutive days—a tremendous honor for the pop musicians competing on stage. Under normal circumstances, a concert-level pianist like Lin would have no intersection with such performers. Pianists of her caliber are sought after to teach at prestigious conservatories, and their performance videos are studied and imitated by millions of students.

But does anyone seriously study the performance style of pop music? No. Young, famous grand pianists like Lin Weiyin and Gao Feiliu can effortlessly play pop music, often reaching the level of performing without a score after hearing it just once. Conversely, even if popular internet content creators like Yangjiegeng or Linglingyao were given classical sheet music to sight-read on the spot, it would be an achievement just to finish without errors. Reaching the emotional depth, technical foundation, and artistic height of someone like Lin Weiyin is clearly a pipe dream. Thus, even prominent pianists who make their living in the pop scene feel a sense of awe when encountering those from the classical world. They are simply not on the same level.

Unless...

"Unless that person is Uncle A!"

The well-known content creator "Angry Sunflower," a woman whose real name is Shi Ruoxiang, adjusted her black-rimmed glasses and said indifferently, "Stop looking. Lin Weiyin is here specifically to enjoy Uncle A's performance; it has nothing to do with us."

As if to verify Shi Ruoxiang’s words, Lin Weiyin, who had been standing in the corner with her arms crossed, took the initiative to walk toward the contestant seating area. Not far behind her, several staff members stood at the ready, clearly aware that Lin’s status in the industry was no small matter and eager to provide her with protection.

The sight of Lin Weiyin caused a slight stir. Everyone present in the music hall had been screened by officials and possessed a certain degree of piano proficiency; there were virtually no "pure" fans. Given that these 1,900-plus attendees each held a vote, their professional judgment was credible. Consequently, they were all too familiar with Lin Weiyin, who had won first place at the International Chopin Piano Competition just last year.

"The prestige of this competition is getting higher and higher; they even managed to invite Lin Weiyin!"

"Not just her—see that kid in the mask over there? That's Gao Feiliu!"

"Even Yu Chengjiao, the vice dean of Dongxin University, is here. Didn't you notice? The one in the gentleman's hat sitting in the last row!"

"I’m speechless at these big shots. If they’re going to come, why the disguises?"

"True, but Lin Weiyin is more carefree. Look how open she is—she even sat in the contestant area! My god, is she a contestant?"

"Wait, am I seeing things? Is she chatting with Uncle A?"

"I found another one, guess who? Meng Han! The third-place winner of the Chopin International Competition! He’s actually here too!"

"Holy crap, it really is him! If he hadn't stood up suddenly, I wouldn't have noticed!"

"It’s heating up! How many more pianists are hiding in this hall?"

As one grand pianist after another was identified, the audience began to boil with excitement. Many viewers realized what was happening and started looking left and right, carefully identifying their neighbors, wondering if they might be sitting next to an idol. And sure enough, the tactic worked. Throughout the music hall, from the orchestra level to the balcony, gasps of surprise erupted one after another.

"My goodness, Professor Jiang, it’s actually you!"

"Ms. Li, what are you doing here?"

"Professor Xian, Professor Xian, it’s really you!"

"Professor Cao, I’m your student! Think back—yes, ten years ago, Central Conservatory of Music! Do you remember me now?"

"Mr. Bo..."

The entire hall was in a constant state of commotion.

On stage, Qiu Zhiming felt beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck, yet he forced himself to stay calm and continued his performance. When the piece ended, host Zhang Hai hurriedly addressed the audience: "Quiet! Quiet! This is a competition; please show respect for the performers' works!"

After all, the audience consisted of high-caliber individuals. Under Zhang Hai’s urging, the hall quieted down, and the chatter subsided. Nearby, Zheng Lan, who had been waiting to go on, felt a surge of joy and hurried onto the stage to begin his performance.

His piece, titled *Sword Comes*, was an original work he had previously published on the J-Station music board. It was his most-clicked work to date, reportedly inspired by his daily obsession with a fantasy novel. The piano notes flowed as clearly as water, putting the audience in a pleasant mood. However, midway through, the piece hit a series of climaxes; the vast, tragic atmosphere it evoked successfully captured everyone’s attention. It was as if, in that moment, a bronze sword had pierced the starry sky, crossing through time to leave an indelible mark on the hearts of the listeners.

"A bit hollow, but a decent performance nonetheless."

In the contestant seating area, after listening to the entirety of Zheng Lan's piece, Lin Weiyin nodded slightly, then leaned forward toward Uncle A in the row ahead and asked calmly, "Are you still not going to admit it?"

"Admit what?" Fu Xiaoci answered on Liao Yuan's behalf. "Hey, don't go looking for trouble!"

"If I hadn't seen you before, it would be one thing, but having seen you, your performance style, your fingering, and even your height and build are easily recognizable to us," Lin Weiyin said quietly. "*War Rhapsody* is a stunning piece, and because it is so stunning, it draws all the more attention. To those of us who witnessed your performance on the *Costa*, whether you wear a mask or not makes no difference."

Liao Yuan’s ears twitched as he whispered, "Us?"

"In this music hall alone, there are no fewer than ten pianists I recognize. They have been here since yesterday," Lin Weiyin smiled slightly, also lowering her voice. "They came to verify their suspicions. Mr. Liao, your *Record of the Western Regions* is admirable, but *War Rhapsody* is truly stunning."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Liao Yuan smiled. "Ms. Lin, this is competition time. Please respect the contestants."

Lin Weiyin nodded slightly and said no more. Fu Xiaoci looked at Lin, then at Liao Yuan, feeling incredibly frustrated. *When did Grandpa Liao go perform on the Costa? How many more things is this old man hiding from me?*

On stage, after the deliberation and voting, Zheng Lan won by a margin of nearly two hundred votes and successfully advanced to the top ten. Before the "living cannon" could even give his acceptance speech, he fainted from excitement. Staff immediately rushed up to check on him, and within seconds, Zheng Lan was back on his feet, bounding around. After delivering a rambling, incoherent victory speech, he trotted off the stage. Qiu Zhiming looked quite frustrated, but he truly admired Zheng Lan’s performance today; just as they had discussed before the start, he accepted his defeat with grace.

Soon, under the continued management of host Zhang Hai, the competition proceeded. Experts from the three major divisions showed off their skills, presenting one original work after another, each of surprisingly high quality. Among them, Hong Kong pianist Mei Duoduo received the highest score of the day so far: 1,417 votes.

An hour later, Zhang Hai approached the glass sphere on stage and pressed the button to draw the next number. After the machine cycled through the balls, one popped out. The audience stared, and a wave of cheers erupted.

"Number 1!"

Zhang Hai smiled as he picked up the ball and looked toward Uncle A. Liao Yuan nodded and stood up. Beside him, more than a dozen pianists who had yet to perform gulped.

"Please don't be me, please don't be me..." Yangjiegeng muttered to himself.

On stage, the machine continued to cycle, and a few seconds later, the second ball popped out. Zhang Hai picked it up and announced, "Number 9!"

In an instant, the entire audience turned their eyes toward the chair labeled No. 16. Yangjiegeng looked like he had been struck by lightning! He was indeed contestant number 9... The other contestants let out a collective sigh of relief, then looked at Yangjiegeng with schadenfreude.

Beside him, Linglingyao patted his shoulder with pity: "Yang Jie, it's fine. It's just a competition. It doesn't matter if you lose, but you have to lose with dignity. At worst, we'll fight again next year!"

*Fight your sister!* Yangjiegeng felt like weeping. "Damn it, I managed to make the top ten last year, and now I can't even make the top fifteen?"

Yangjiegeng wailed inwardly. He had witnessed Uncle A's playing, especially after *War Rhapsody* had surfaced. That level of prowess made Yangjiegeng’s limbs go weak, even just watching it through a video. A grand pianist of this caliber should be off holding world tours and raking in cash—why the hell was he here competing with scum like them for a title? *Damn it, have you no shame? I ask you, have you no shame?*

*How can a decent man behave like this? Does bullying the weak really bring you pleasure? Can a grand pianist really do whatever he wants? Is there no law in this world?!* Yangjiegeng gritted his teeth and glared at Liao Yuan, but he quickly deflated. *Yes, as a grand pianist, he really can do whatever he wants...*

With trembling hands, he gripped the armrests and stood up, preparing to face his fate—

"Sorry, sorry, mistake, mistake. Let's do that again." Host Zhang Hai suddenly changed his tone, hurriedly flipping the ball over. "My apologies, audience, I read it wrong. This is a 6, not a 9!"

*Not a 6? It’s a 9?*

With a thud, Yangjiegeng, who had just stood up, felt his knees go weak and nearly collapsed onto the floor. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the stage, confirming the number in the host's hand was indeed a 9, and was instantly overwhelmed with joy. *Damn, heaven hasn't abandoned me!*

In the contestant seating area, the 6th contestant, "Masked Rider," slowly stood up. Just as his name implied, he was also a masked contestant, but unlike Uncle A, his equipment was elaborately crafted. His entire outfit was a replica of a character from the animation *Masked Rider*, complete with a red cape and an eye-catching protrusion at the abdomen, making him the focus of the entire hall. At the same time, he was one of the strongest contestants present. Before Uncle A had played *War Rhapsody*, he and Uncle A were the two famous masked pianists, and he was a strong contender for the championship in the Chinese division. It was a strange coincidence.

"Good luck!" Fu Xiaoci stood up, helped straighten Liao Yuan’s tie, and encouraged him: "I'll be down here watching your return as a king!"

*That line is so cringey!* Liao Yuan coughed, and another voice echoed in his ear.

"Can you crush him?" Lin Weiyin asked coolly. "Show your true strength; don't disgrace the status of a grand pianist."

*...Great, her line is even cringier!*

Liao Yuan took a deep breath and, amidst the thunderous applause of the audience, walked onto the stage step by step. Host Zhang Hai approached, his eyes bright as he looked at Liao Yuan and asked excitedly, "What is the piece you will be performing?"

Liao Yuan replied, "I haven't decided yet."

Zhang Hai: "???"

The audience was in an uproar. Fu Xiaoci covered her eyes, unable to bear it. She had asked Liao Yuan what he was going to play before they came, and he had given the exact same answer. She thought he was joking and didn't take it seriously. *Damn it, he really hadn't decided!*

Zhang Hai was at a loss for whether to laugh or cry. "You haven't decided on the name? Or the piece itself? You should at least give us a hint!"

"The name?" Liao Yuan thought for a moment and said, "Let's call it *Railgun*!"