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墨書 Inktalez
“They not only provoked us, but they also demeaned all of us Hubei People,” Jiang Xi said, shaking her fist with fire in her eyes. “This afternoon after school, they came here to sing, and the song they chose was that one about Nunchaku.”
“So what?”
“It’s not that singing Nunchaku is a problem, but what’s infuriating is that they actually changed the lyrics.”
“Changed the lyrics? What did they change it to?”
“They altered the line ‘The East Asian sick man’s sign has been kicked over by me’ to ‘Only Chu has talent’s sign has been trampled by me.’ Can you tolerate their arrogance after hearing that?”
“What—these Beijing bumpkins dare to look down on us Hubei People like this?” Zhu Hui was so furious she could hardly breathe, itching to rush onto the stage and teach those Beijing folks a lesson.
Seeing Zhu Hui getting worked up, Jiang Xi didn’t hold back and added fuel to the fire. “You wouldn’t believe it; they even want us Hubei People to stop calling ourselves Nine-Headed Birds so as not to insult birds.”
Of course, this comment about insulting birds was something Jiang Xi made up to provoke Zhu Hui. The Beijingers hadn’t said anything so uncouth, but Zhu Hui believed Jiang Xi's fabricated lie completely, getting caught up in her manipulation.
“These damn Jing Piao Zi think they can be so arrogant just because they come from the capital. We must show them what we’re made of and let them know that we Hubei People are not to be trifled with.”
“Exactly! Now you should understand my good intentions!”
Just as Jiang Xi finished speaking, a burst of laughter came from behind them. Instinctively, they turned around to see Yang Qianfan swaying towards them, casually saying, “Knowing that doesn’t change anything. Just look at those Stinky Sweet Potatoes from our school on stage, and you’ll know how this competition will end.”
“Hey! How can you say something that boosts others while diminishing our own spirit? Aren’t you a Hubei Person too?”
“Sorry, even though I grew up in Wuhan, my ancestral home is in Beijing, and I’m a descendant of the Aisin Gioro clan, a Manchu!”
“Tch—another Beijing snob,” Zhu Hui scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, clearly unimpressed by his royal lineage.
Just then, Song Yu joined the conversation, eager to chime in.
“Our school has already lost six rounds in this street dance competition; it seems like defeat is inevitable,” Song Yu said thoughtfully, watching the performers on stage.
“Hey, first someone comes in to rain on our parade, and now another one shows up,” Zhu Hui snapped, turning to shout at Song Yu.
“It's the truth; shouting here won’t change anything,” Song Yu replied with a smirk, looking at her with a hint of mischief. “If I were you, I’d find a way to salvage some dignity—at least not let my face hit the ground.”
“Do I even have a way out now? All the students who can dance have already gone up on stage.”
“Are you so sure about that?”
Zhu Hui seemed to catch an underlying tone in his words and asked, “What exactly are you getting at?”
“If you beg me, I might help you regain a bit of Hubei pride.”
“You can dance?” Zhu Hui stared at him in surprise.
“I’ve learned a bit.”
"Then why don't you hurry up and get on stage?"
"If I win this round, what benefits will I get?"
"You still want benefits after winning? Don't forget you're also a Hubei Person; if you lose your dignity, you'll share in that too."
"I don't care about losing dignity," Song Yu replied with a carefree smile.
"Exactly, wanting something for doing a little work—now that's what true Hubei People are like," Yang Qianfan chimed in, unable to resist stirring the pot with a mocking tone.
Zhu Hui felt her anger rise even more at Yang Qianfan's ridicule of Hubei People.
"Fine, as long as you agree to get on stage, I'll promise you any benefit you want," Zhu Hui said angrily to Song Yu, her tone heavy enough to crush rocks.
"If I win this round, will you agree to be my girlfriend?" Song Yu asked bluntly, showing no hesitation whatsoever.
"What are you talking about? I..." Zhu Hui looked at him with a troubled expression.
Yang Qianfan, overhearing Song Yu's outrageous proposal to Zhu Hui, was filled with excitement and felt an urge to rush forward and give this clueless brat a good beating. But as an outsider, he had no right to intervene and could only suppress his anger silently.
Seeing that Zhu Hui remained silent for a long moment, Song Yu understood her hesitation and said, "Alright, I was just joking! I'll go up now." With that, he flashed her a slight smile, took off his jacket to reveal his bronzed and muscular arms along with a striking white shirt that exuded a playful vibe. After putting on a headband, he stepped onto the stage.
Standing on the stage, he seemed like a completely different person. That charming, slightly unruly smile instantly froze into a mask of seriousness, exuding an air of maturity and composure. Every gesture he made radiated a cool and confident vibe. Amidst the thunderous applause, he remained unfazed, his eyes locked onto his opponent with an icy gaze, as if he were a knight shrouded in mystery.
Song Yu's performance on stage was particularly captivating. He executed various high-difficulty moves in street dance with effortless flair, leaving the audience in awe. The girls, especially, were entranced, erupting into wild screams that echoed like thunder, among them was Zhu Hui.
Zhu Hui found herself deeply drawn to Song Yu. She couldn't help but think to herself how no wonder this group of girls was so infatuated with him; he was simply too handsome.
“Zhu Hui, what are you daydreaming about? There's nothing to see; stop looking!” Yang Qianfan exclaimed in frustration as he noticed Zhu Hui lost in admiration for the handsome dancer. He quickly blocked her view, preventing her from watching Song Yu's electrifying performance.
“Get out of the way! Don’t block my view of the handsome guy!” Zhu Hui replied impatiently, shoving Yang Qianfan's hand aside.
“If you like looking at handsome guys so much, you can look at me!” Yang Qianfan blurted out in a moment of desperation, realizing even as he said it how ridiculous it sounded.
Zhu Hui couldn't help but laugh at his shamelessness. She shot him a cold glance before turning away, suppressing her laughter and refusing to look at either Song Yu on stage or Yang Qianfan beside her. Yang Qianfan felt increasingly embarrassed; he fell silent and began scratching his head awkwardly, regretting his foolish words while blushing and turning his gaze elsewhere.
Finally, Song Yu finished his performance. With his exceptional dancing skills, winning this round of the street dance competition was a piece of cake for him. However, despite having talents like Song Yu at Nanhua High School, it was clear that they couldn't turn the tide of the competition. Just as he prepared to step off the stage, someone called out to him from behind—none other than Gao Jie, the soul of the Beijing Team.
“I never expected someone like you to be at Nanhua High School.”
“Too kind. We people from Wuhan aren’t as showy as you Beijingers,” Song Yu replied with a sharp smile, exuding an air of arrogance as he turned to leave the stage.
“Hey, did you ever watch our band’s performance?” Gao Jie asked proudly.
“I did,” Song Yu paused and casually responded as he turned back.
“What do you think?”
“To be honest, it’s average.”
“Average?” Gao Jie felt a surge of dissatisfaction upon hearing that their band was considered just average. He added, “From what you say, it seems your school’s band must be quite impressive.”
“We don’t have a band at our school, but everyone there has their own unique skills. Not only can they sing, but they can also perform in operas.”
“Really?” Gao Jie raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smirk playing on his lips.
“You don’t believe me? Alright—” Song Yu said as he walked to the edge of the stage and called out to Zhu Hui in the audience, “Can you sing opera?”
“Me? Sing opera? Are you kidding?” Zhu Hui exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise as he pointed at himself.
“Can you or can’t you?”
“Isn’t singing good enough?”
“How can singing showcase the cultural depth of us Hubei people? If you don’t want to embarrass yourself, get up here and perform an opera.”
“But I can’t sing Peking Opera!”
“How about Chu Opera?”
“I can’t sing either.”
“What about other genres?”
“I can perform a piece from Huangmei Opera.”
“That’s great! Which one can you sing?” Song Yu asked excitedly.
“The excerpt ‘Who Would Have Thought the Imperial Edict Declares Me Top Scholar.’”
“Okay! No problem.” Song Yu said, winking confidently at her and pulling her from the audience onto the stage. Then he turned to Gao Jie and asked, “Can I borrow your electronic keyboard?”
“You can play the keyboard?” Gao Jie squinted in surprise.
“Do you think all of us from Wuhan are like you Beijingers, who can dance but can’t play instruments, or play instruments but can’t dance?”
Seeing this person so audacious, Gao Jie couldn’t help but admire him and found him quite interesting. She smiled and handed over the electronic keyboard.
Song Yu sat down next to the keyboard, raised his hands to test a few notes on the keys, then signaled Zhu Hui with a glance to start.
Zhu Hui stood on stage, facing all the audience below, her heart racing with nervousness. As the music began to play, she started singing along.
“To save Li Lang from his homeland, who would have thought the imperial edict declares me top scholar. Clad in a red robe, with a cap adorned with palace flowers, how fresh and splendid it is! I have attended the Qionglin banquet; I have ridden through the streets before. Everyone praises my looks like Pan An; it turns out my gauze cap covers my beauty. I don’t seek fame by becoming a top scholar; I don’t seek high office for power. For the affectionate Li Gongzi, may our love blossom like flowers under the full moon. Joyfully, I await my leave to return home, to see Li Gongzi and present him with a top scholar’s title.”
As she began to sing the first verse, she appeared quite reserved, gripping the microphone tightly, standing in the center of the stage as if drawing an invisible boundary around herself. Her body was stiff, as if she dared not step beyond her limits. However, by the time she reached the second verse, she completely let go. Following the lyrics, she danced rhythmically, her gestures full of flair and professionalism, showcasing a level of skill that was impressive. The audience below erupted in applause for her authentic Huang Mei singing style. Among them, one person clapped the loudest—Yang Qianfan, who stood at the edge of the stage, captivated by Zhu Hui's performance. He watched her intently, completely absorbed, while He Feng, standing beside him, couldn't help but feel puzzled by his dazed expression. He wondered if Yang had perhaps taken a wrong turn and developed a taste for Huang Mei Opera.
As the last note flowed from Song Yu's fingertips, Zhu Hui finally finished her performance. The enthusiastic applause from the audience roared past her ears. Unable to contain herself, she turned to look at Song Yu, who had been quietly playing the piano behind her. Her thoughts blossomed like seeds buried deep in fertile soil after a spring rain; countless tender shoots emerged from her heart, growing vigorously. Inspired by the audience's fervent response, a thousand words fluttered like butterfly wings in her mind.
From a distance, Song Yu watched her with an understanding gaze, as if he could sense her thoughts. He gave her a thumbs-up and smiled encouragingly to convey his confidence.
"It seems your school truly has hidden talents," Gao Jie remarked to Song Yu, impressed by Zhu Hui's performance.
"Is that all you want to say?" Song Yu reminded him.
Gao Jie wasn't foolish; he understood what Song Yu was hinting at. He patted Song Yu on the shoulder and laughed awkwardly, "Only Chu has talent; only Chu has talent."
"You should now understand why 'only Chu has talent' is a fitting description for Hubei people!" Song Yu stood up proudly and high-fived him in celebration of their friendship.
Gao Jie grasped Song Yu's hand tightly and laughed heartily. With a hint of amusement, he shook his head and said, "You Wuhan people are just like your weather—either unbearably cold or unbearably hot."
Song Yu smiled at him without responding, silently agreeing with his insightful remark.
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