As Yin Tian's hands began to dance, the sound of plinking and plonking continually echoed within the exhibition hall.
The piece Yin Tian played was very soothing and pleasant to the ear, yet there wasn't a single person who had heard this melody before.
Even the eldest senior brother furrowed his brows, unsure of what piece Yin Tian was playing. He even doubted whether the piece was an original composition by Yin Tian himself.
Having studied the zither for nearly twenty years, he prided himself on knowing all the famous pieces, but he simply could not recognize the piece Yin Tian was playing.
Just then, Yin Tian's hands began to quicken.
The tune also changed accordingly.
Plink plink plonk plonk...
Everyone closed their eyes, listening quietly.
The eldest senior brother also closed his eyes.
Although his eyes were closed, before him seemed to appear mountains, streams, bamboo forests...