To be honest, although she didn't know much about music theory yet, the system's capabilities were simply too powerful. Even without formal knowledge of music, when it came to the songs she exchanged from the system, she had insight and familiarity that rivaled—if not surpassed—the original artists.
As a result, she didn't need to seriously study every nuance. It was enough to transcribe the music based on the data the system provided. However, she didn't have a notebook specifically for composing, so she had to do everything herself from scratch. Otherwise, she wouldn't have only just finished before the third period ended.
It was late, yes, but at least she made it in time. If she'd missed this opportunity because of her overthinking, it wouldn't have mattered if she lost the spirit cat or Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone; but losing the dungeon entry ticket, "Hogwarts Acceptance Letter," would have been a serious loss.
The dungeon function hadn't been unlocked yet, and she didn't know the specifics, but she already had a premonition: every reward the system provided carried a special intent.
This intent was harmless in itself, but it could shift depending on her choices. It might become extremely beneficial, or it could pull her into the abyss. Either way, she didn't want to dwell on it. What she had to do was simply fulfill her responsibilities.
When she handed the sheet of lyrics and melody to Li Xiu'er, the shy girl finally revealed a happy smile. Chu Lian felt a bit relieved. Being able to help herself while also helping others—doing more of that wasn't a bad thing, especially when the other person was a cute girl who treated her like an idol.
"Do you think your song can be selected as our class's performance piece?" Cai Ya, who had mostly stopped paying attention to Chu Lian after that incident in the morning, happened to glance over and saw her writing music and lyrics. Her curiosity was piqued, so once Chu Lian handed the paper to Li Xiu'er, Cai Ya suddenly asked.
"Why not? I don't think my song and composition are inferior to anyone's. Unless someone else is absolutely confident they'll win the slot?" Chu Lian tilted her head and looked at her with mild confusion.
"Hmph, that's just what you think. I admit, when you sang 'Glad You're A Lolicon,' I was shocked by your familiarity with the piece. But I know some of your background—it says you never formally studied music."
"Don't forget, I said it this morning: you have talent in music, but your foundations are too weak. If you had three or four years to grow, I wouldn't question it at all. But right now..."
Cai Ya's voice rose slightly. Clearly, she didn't like Chu Lian's "I'm confident because I'm a genius" expression.
"Well, being weak in performance doesn't mean I'm weak in composition, right? Music requires talent, and so does composition. I may not sing well, and my foundation might be thin, but that doesn't mean I never studied composition through the system."
"As long as I understand the essential elements of arranging music, and combine that with my writing skills, isn't it possible to write a good song?" Chu Lian looked at her curiously, not understanding why she suddenly seemed irritated.
"Hmph, we'll see soon enough. I hope your song doesn't get eliminated in the initial voting round. I'd really love to see your face then." With a snort, Cai Ya picked up her already packed bag and walked out of the classroom toward the field downstairs.
"Such a childish temperament... still needs a lot of tempering." Chu Lian watched her walk away and smiled softly, whispering under her breath. Then she stood, packed her things, and walked out without looking back—leaving Wang Tingsi standing a few steps away from her desk, hand half-raised and looking rather dejected.
"She's always like a nimble bird, free and untethered. Unless absolutely necessary, she won't interact with anyone or anything she doesn't want to. Opening her heart isn't something that time or effort alone can achieve."
"If I had the chance, I would want to walk into her memories, to see what kind of wounds she once endured. But I don't even have the courage to speak to her—so how could I ever get close?" Not far away, Zhang Feng lowered his head, and behind his glasses, a flicker of sadness passed through his eyes. He quietly jotted down this thought in his notebook.
Chu Lian carried her white schoolbag, walking at a leisurely pace. Occasionally, she would greet someone she knew in passing and receive a smile in return, before continuing on her way alone.
Her destination was across from her teaching building, a twelve-story structure rich with scholarly charm.
It housed not only music rooms, labs, art studios, computer rooms, and other interest-based classrooms, but also served as the hub for most of the school's clubs. Today, she was heading to a classroom on the ninth floor, farthest to the left.
That was the area dedicated to Huaxia classical music. Most of the rooms were for instruments like the guzheng, xiao, pipa, erhu, and flute. The less common instruments occupied only about a third of the space.
Though Huaxia classical music had a long and rich history, with many famous pieces throughout the ages, much had also been lost. The domestic music industry's decline had further pushed Huaxia classical music into obscurity.
Internationally recognized musicians from China often gained fame using Western instruments, which led to classical instruments being overshadowed—especially by the piano, hailed as the "king of instruments." As a result, fewer and fewer people paid attention to this genre.
Even though the country was now making efforts to promote traditional culture, most of that focus was on literature and film.
Ironically, in this climate, classical music became even more neglected. In contrast, Hanfu—once almost forgotten—had flourished in recent years, embraced by a growing community of enthusiasts, creating a stark contrast.
If a decade ago classical music still held a slight edge over Hanfu, in the past ten years Hanfu had completely overtaken it.
"I'm not a savior, nor do I want to rescue classical music, and I'm certainly not bearing any grand mission. I just do what I want to do, what I like to do, what I want to share. That's all." Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Chu Lian murmured softly, then stepped inside and shut it behind her.
The room she entered was a guzheng classroom. Normally, only two or three students attended lessons there. During this free period, it was completely empty. Fortunately, these rooms were cleaned daily, so dust wasn't a concern.
She set down her bag and closed her eyes briefly. A flash of light passed, and she was now dressed in a flowing white ruqun. Her long hair was styled in the falling plum blossom style, with a few strands hanging by her ears, giving her a cool, fairy-like appearance—like a young immortal stepping into the mortal world.
These were two abilities she had begged Ayase to let her learn. The first allowed her to instantly change into specific outfits stored in designated locations. The second allowed her to apply preset makeup designs embedded in her consciousness.
(Because these were merely simple techniques without any combat or enhancement function, the system had overlooked them.)
"Guofeng, Guofeng… I don't want to shine in front of the world as just a fake classical beauty. I will master qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting for real..." Unable to hold back anymore, she finally exchanged for an ability she had long wanted.
"Guofeng! Guofeng! Master-Level Huaxia Classical Music Accomplishment: Cost –45,000 Dream Points. Upon exchange, you will attain master-level skill in classical music, proficient in guzheng, pipa, xiao, and erhu. Huaxia classical music is the most elegant, refined, and graceful form of music in the world. Please do not let it down."
Master-level was a unique talent rank found only in certain arts, equivalent to S-rank. Dream Points were among the hardest to earn. If not for her accidental windfall of nearly 50,000, it would've taken ages to redeem this.
Cultural talents above S-rank almost all required Dream Points to obtain. Since she already had them, she might as well exchange for the one she desired most.
Closing her eyes, her ten fingers moved lightly. With a gentle pluck of her index finger, a moving melody began to flow…