"The chill of night deepens with worry; who can fathom such feelings...""A fleeting infatuation, half a lifetime too late to reunite..."
"When two hearts beat as one, who can bear separation..."
"For your fleeting smile, I gift my eternal longing..."
A melancholic tune played on the ancient xun flute intertwined with a young maiden's soft voice, weaving a sorrowful melody that resonated deeply with all who listened. The audience felt as though they had been transported into a world of forlorn love and heartbreak.
The cradle on the stage spun gently, and the maiden's narration began:
"From childhood, countless people have sought my favor, showering me with rare treasures. But…"
Her voice softened, carrying a trace of vulnerability.
"Even if all the treasures in the world were laid before me, they could never compare to the sleeve you used to wipe the bamboo clean for me."
The stage turned, and the youth emerged in view as the maiden transitioned to the guzheng.
The melody rose gradually, its tempo carefully controlled, carrying a swell of emotion.
"With my tears, I sing for you. My song has sound; your heart has meaning..."
In the audience, Tang Yuehua's eyes lit up. To the untrained, the performance might seem flawless, but as an expert, she recognized the true brilliance stemmed from Qin Jian's extraordinary skill. Ning Rongrong, though competent, merely managed to keep pace without faltering.
Especially this section—an intricate high-pitched crescendo that required gradual elevation without urgency, all while conveying profound emotion. The challenge was immense, yet Qin Jian executed it with mastery, bringing the audience into the depths of the performance.
What Tang Yuehua did not know was that Qin Jian's martial soul was the Emotion Sword, with a cultivation of one million years, giving him unparalleled aptitude for conveying and perceiving emotions.
As the performance unfolded, the massive cradle descended toward the stage. At some point, Qin Jian and Ning Rongrong, moving in perfect harmony, sat together, facing the audience.
"Is it true that Li Xun from Burning Incense Valley has proposed to you?"
Qin Jian's voice carried a trace of hesitation.
"Yes, but I refused," Ning Rongrong replied, her smile tinged with an unusual gentleness.
Their dialogue caused Xue Qinghe, watching from backstage, to momentarily lose his composure. A flicker of something unidentifiable flashed in his gaze.
"Then come with me!" Qin Jian blurted impulsively.
Ning Rongrong's cheeks flushed red as she responded, one word at a time:
"I… am… delighted!"
"Where shall we go?" Her voice trembled slightly, her gaze distant.
"Anywhere," Qin Jian declared without hesitation, "even to the ends of the earth."
Ning Rongrong looked at him, her expression shifting between laughter and tears. Her voice choked with emotion:
"And what about Biyao?"
Qin Jian's body stiffened as though struck by lightning. All strength drained from him in an instant.
From the audience, Sword Douluo furrowed his brows, sensing an inexplicable foreboding in Qin Jian's demeanor.
"The chill of night deepens with worry; who can fathom such feelings..."
"A fleeting infatuation, half a lifetime too late to reunite..."
Qin Jian's voice now carried a deep sorrow.
"When two hearts beat as one, who can bear separation..."
"For your fleeting smile, I gift my eternal longing..."
Ning Rongrong simply watched him in silence, a single tear tracing its way down her cheek.
The maiden's narration resumed:
"The bell tolls, the flowers wither, shadows grow thin, and hair turns to frost."
"True love is bitter; life itself is bitter; and unrequited love is the bitterest of all."
Then came the youth's lament:
"In this life, I do not seek solitude or immortality. All I wish for is to be with the one I love."
Tears welled in both their eyes, and the raw emotion brought many in the audience to tears as well.
The final note rang out:
"A thousand thoughts are futile; who can control the heart's desire..."
The guzheng and xun flute joined in a delicate duet, their melodies lingering in the air before fading into silence.
Everyone believed the performance had concluded when Tang Yuehua's voice suddenly rang out, delivering a final narration:
"Years later, when you look back on this moment, will you remember the one who once whispered heartfelt words to you?"
"Will you recall the innocent yet fervent vows of youth, like indelible carvings etched upon your heart?"
"Did you ever open your arms and embrace the one you cherished most?"
On stage, Qin Jian and Ning Rongrong embraced tightly. The snowy-white cradle ascended once more, as the white lights dimmed.
The entire hall fell into a profound silence.
Moments later—
Clap. Clap.
A single applause echoed, breaking the stillness. Then, like an avalanche, thunderous applause erupted, sweeping through the grand hall.
The applause continued unabated for three full minutes before subsiding. By then, the stage had lit up once more, bathed in resplendent golden light.
A troupe of dancers appeared, with Xue Qinghe and Xue Ke at the center. However, a closer look revealed a subtle unease in Xue Ke's expression. She was still deeply immersed in Qin Jian and Ning Rongrong's performance, her mind adrift.
"Originally meant to be the grand finale, but now it feels like mere closure…" Xue Qinghe mused as he danced with Xue Ke. "No matter how grand our display is, it cannot compare to their emotional resonance. The gap is insurmountable..."
"This Qin Jian… truly fascinating..."
Backstage, Qin Jian was flustered.
"Rongrong, stop crying! The performance is over…"
Ning Rongrong buried her tear-streaked face in his chest.
"Wuwu… I still can't shake the emotions… Wuwu… It's all your fault! Your narration was too touching!"
Qin Jian could only hold her tightly.
"Alright, alright. It's just a story. Don't take it so seriously."
"But…" Ning Rongrong looked up cautiously, her teary eyes locking onto his. "Qin Jian… will you ever leave me?"
"I…" Qin Jian froze, his expression shifting.
At that moment, he felt his Soul Power surge, reaching level 20. It was a sign—the affection Ning Rongrong held for him had reached its peak, and his cultivation could progress no further unless…
…they parted ways.
"Qin Jian! Why aren't you saying anything?" Ning Rongrong's panic grew with his silence.
Qin Jian forced a smile and gently wiped away her tears. "Rongrong, don't worry. In the end, we'll be together."
Relieved, Ning Rongrong missed the hidden meaning in his words.
By then, the next performance had concluded, and the students began returning to the stage.
"Alright, it's time for us to go back too."
They straightened each other's clothes and walked out hand in hand, drawing the gaze of everyone present.
"Hmph, so what if their performance was moving and their narration touching? The winner isn't decided yet!" Xue Ke muttered sourly, jealousy flickering in her eyes.
In the center of the stage, Tang Yuehua stepped forward.
"This marks the conclusion of this half-year etiquette training. Every student has met the graduation standard. As for the top-ranking duo…"
She paused, surveying the students.
"In my heart, the answer is clear. I don't know about the rest of you, but to me, they are undoubtedly the champions."
She turned to face the students and declared:
"The first-place duo is…"
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