Wang Yuyan hadn't expected that her casual remark about the red-clad girl's beautiful zither playing would be remembered by Shen Lang, let alone be made one of the conditions for their bet.
In that instant, Wang Yuyan looked at Shen Lang, her eyes filled with tenderness.
The red-clad girl was equally astonished, never having imagined that Shen Lang would ask her to play a piece.
After the initial shock, the red-clad girl looked at Shen Lang and said, "Playing a piece is no problem, but playing "Guang Ling San," no."
"You can't play it?"
Hearing the red-clad girl's words, Shen Lang smiled and said.
"A joke. Of all the zither pieces in this world, just name one and I can play it. The reason I don't wish to play "Guang Ling San" is that after Ji Kang's death, "Guang Ling San" became lost. Zither enthusiasts of later generations searched tirelessly but only found parts of it; the most crucial part remained unfound."
"The score of "Guang Ling San" has forty-five movements, divided into six sections: the minor prelude, the major prelude, the main body, the chaotic movements, and the postlude. The lost part is the most important, the main body."
"The main body is the essence of "Guang Ling San." Without this part, "Guang Ling San" is no longer that ancient masterpiece."
"Although great zither masters of later generations have attempted to fill in this section, how can their continuations compare to Ji Kang's divine inspiration?"
"I am unwilling to play an imperfect piece, so, let's change it," the red-clad girl said calmly, looking at Shen Lang.
"No, it must be this piece."
Shen Lang smiled and said, "I can help you complete the lost main body, allowing the true "Guang Ling San" to reappear in the world."
"What?"
Upon hearing this, the red-clad girl's face was filled with shock. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. I never speak falsehoods. Prepare paper and ink for me, and I will write down the score for you to verify its authenticity."
Shen Lang said with confidence.
"Grandpa Zhou, prepare paper and ink."
Seeing Shen Lang's confidence, the red-clad girl raised an eyebrow and called out to the white-haired elder.
"Miss, do you really believe him?"
Seeing the red-clad girl was serious, the white-haired elder chuckled, "The main body of Ji Kang's "Guang Ling San" was completely lost after Ji Kang was murdered by Sima Zhao. For over a thousand years, countless people have tried in vain. How can a mere youth in his early twenties possibly write it?"
"It doesn't matter—"
The red-clad girl replied dismissively, "Ever since he belittled my master, the Immortal Doctor Zhang Xuanling, I've considered him a clown. I don't mind watching him make a fool of himself."
"Alas, why is it that when I speak the truth, others don't believe me," Shen Lang said helplessly.
"Kid, I've prepared the paper and pen you asked for. Write."
In less than half a minute, the white-haired elder brought a stack of white paper and a fountain pen, handing them impatiently to Shen Lang.
"Brother, can you really write it?" Gu Qinghan asked with uncertainty as Shen Lang took the paper and pen and sat down at a table, ready to begin.
"Sister, don't worry. I never do anything I'm not sure of."
Shen Lang looked at Gu Qinghan with a gentle smile and said, "Just watch by the side. See how I complete this ancient masterpiece, and how I make them eat their words."
"Sister loves to see brother looking so confident," Gu Qinghan said with a smile. "Sister believes in you, you can definitely do it."
"Brother Shen, it's okay if you really can't write it. We'll just run away," Gu Qinghan added. Wang Yuyan then approached Shen Lang and whispered, "As long as we run fast enough, their mockery won't catch up to us."
"Have you known me for so long and seen me fail to do anything I've said I would?" Shen Lang asked with a wry smile.
"This..." Wang Yuyan pondered. It seemed she really hadn't. Although Shen Lang's personality was sometimes unlikable, he always delivered on his promises. In fact, this was one of the things that attracted Wang Yuyan to him. If only this fellow wouldn't believe others' nonsense, thought she was an ugly monster, had nothing to do with the Yu Xiao sisters, and only had her in his heart, how wonderful would that be.
"Alright, enough chatter. Hurry up and write," the red-clad girl's pretty face turned cold, and she commanded, "If you can't write it, then quickly save the person. As long as you can save them, I will not only hand over a hundred million yuan with both hands but also have your girlfriend play any zither piece for you except "Guang Ling San.""
"Don't rush, I'm writing now."
Seeing the red-clad girl's impatience, Shen Lang smiled and then began to write rapidly on the white paper. In two minutes, Shen Lang's pen moved without pause, scratching continuously, writing fluently and filling three sheets of white paper.
"Take a look—" After finishing, Shen Lang tossed the fountain pen and the remaining white paper into the trash without a second glance, and handed the three written pages to the red-clad girl.
"Hmph, putting on an act." Seeing Shen Lang discard the paper and pen, the white-haired elder snorted, "I refuse to believe you can actually write it."
While the white-haired elder was speaking, the red-clad girl had already taken the three pages. However, as she looked at the first page, her brow furrowed. Then, as she continued to read, finishing the first page, then the second, and finally the third, her expression grew grave, and beads of sweat began to appear on her fair, snow-like forehead.
Finally, the pages slipped from the red-clad girl's hands and fell to the floor. She was utterly distraught, weeping uncontrollably.
"Mi'er, what's wrong?" The white-haired elder, who had watched the red-clad girl grow up, had never seen her like this. He was greatly alarmed and called out in concern. Gu Qinghan and Wang Yuyan, witnessing the red-clad girl's emotional turmoil, were also shocked and bewildered.
"It's real... Grandpa Zhou... This is real... The zither score written on these three pages is indeed the lost part of Ji Kang's "Guang Ling San."" The red-clad girl looked at the white-haired elder, her voice choked with sobs, "I can't be mistaken. For the past five years, I have deduced this part of the score countless times, successfully deducing ninety-nine percent of it. There was just one small section that I could never deduce. And just now, seeing the score he wrote, I instantly understood why I couldn't deduce it."
"It's because I am a woman, so I cannot feel the tragic grandeur of Nie Zheng assassinating Han alone, nor can I comprehend Ji Kang's feelings for Nie Zheng when he composed "Guang Ling San."" The red-clad girl picked up the three pages that had fallen to the floor, holding them as if they were precious treasures, and said to Shen Lang, "Whose ancient zither masterpiece is this score written by?"
"I wrote it myself." Shen Lang smiled. "One day, while playing "Guang Ling San," I realized that the main body was not composed by Ji Kang himself, so I completed it. It took me about ten minutes, and it was quite arduous."