TTTQF Chapter 120

Competition

It is Mid-Autumn Festival, and the earth has shed its heat, becoming cool and pleasant. Occasionally, a breeze sweeps through, causing the xuan paper on the desk to flutter noisily, the sharp sound seeming to applaud the splendid scene unfolding in the garden.

Before them sits a man playing the guqin. The melodious, soothing music makes many people nearby close their eyes and listen attentively, immersing themselves in the tune as it transports them to another world. Their reactions are enough to show the performer’s profound skill.

Jiang Miao stands next to Pei Che, listening attentively, but unlike the others, his expression isn’t fully absorbed. He admits to himself that he has no artistic sensibility. Even in modern times, he rarely listens to pure instrumental music, so he can’t grasp the depth or appreciate this type of melody.

After the performance, the onlookers spare no praise, showering the performer with compliments such as “lingering notes that echo for hours,” “graceful and melodious,” and “as if it were the music of the heavens.” Their flattering words are so over-the-top that Jiang Miao can’t help but wonder if there is something wrong with his own aesthetic sense.

“Was he really that good?” Jiang Miao seeks some professional insight, trying to improve his own taste.

Pei Che nods, then shakes his head, leaving Jiang Miao thoroughly confused. Is it good or not?

“His technique is impeccable, but he doesn’t infuse his emotions into the music. The performance is good, but it lacks the power to move people,” Pei Che explains.

Jiang Miao nods, understanding now. It seems that the performer has been more focused on showing off his skills.

“Can you play? I noticed there’s a guqin at home, but I’ve never heard you play it.” Based on Pei Che’s analysis, he seems to know his stuff. But in all their time together, Jiang Miao has never once heard him play.

“Do you want to hear me play?” Pei Che raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I want to hear how your playing compares to his,” Jiang Miao replies honestly. “Listening to this kind of music makes me sleepy. I want to see if I always feel this way when I hear it.”

Pei Che's face droops. "You don’t want to hear me play the piano at all; you just want to verify why you get sleepy when you listen to the guqin?"

Jiang Miao smiles sheepishly at him. “Of course not. I really do want to hear you play. Anyway, let’s stop chatting; they’re starting to critique over there.”

Sure enough, the more professional and authoritative figures invited by the Marquis of Xinyang's residence come to the same conclusion as Pei Che. However, Pei Che’s words are more straightforward, while theirs are expressed more tactfully.

This is the first event of the Mid-Autumn Poetry Gathering—"Understanding Autumn’s Emotions Through Music." The competition naturally involves using various musical instruments to express one's vision of autumn. It’s like an appetizer before the poetry composition since writing poetry also depends on the emotions that spontaneously arise from the bottom of the heart.

After the guqin performance, a variety of instruments take turns on stage: the se, xun, flute, and xiao. Some are mournful and plaintive, while others are bold and unrestrained. The most captivating is a guy playing the erhu—his performance is so gripping that Jiang Miao feels like throwing a few coins on his table as a tip.

The only regret is that despite the wide range of instruments showcased, the "king of instruments," the suona, is absent. Once the suona is played, all other instruments have to step aside. But Jiang Miao only muses about this in his head, knowing full well that playing the suona at such an event would be rather inappropriate.

Soon, everyone who participates in this segment of the competition finishes. Pei Che does not join in the musical competition; instead, others from their team represent them. The two participants perform neither exceptionally well nor poorly, earning an average score overall. While the others say nothing, the participants themselves feel somewhat embarrassed and apologize repeatedly to everyone.

Just as everyone is comforting them, the second event begins. The musical performances have stirred up everyone’s emotions, and now it’s time for the second activity—"Painting Autumn Scenes." Each group has to select someone to take up a brush and depict their vision of autumn on paper.

The participants are well-prepared and fearless. Some paint red frost-touched leaves dancing in the autumn wind, others depict chrysanthemums proudly blooming on tree branches, and still others illustrate the bleak scene of withered plants turning yellow. It’s clear that everyone’s understanding of autumn is different.

As Jiang Miao looks at their paintings, he can’t help but imagine how he would paint autumn in his own mind. To him, autumn in the classroom always signifies harvest—golden pears, red apples, vast seas of rice, and heavy, ripe sorghum. As he thinks about this, Jiang Miao can’t help but clutch his stomach—he’s starting to feel a bit hungry.

“What’s wrong?” Pei Che immediately notices his expression.

Jiang Miao shakes his head. “Nothing, just feeling a bit hungry.”

Pei Che says, “I’ll have someone bring you something to eat.” It’s still early, and the host family, wary of dirtying the poetry and paintings, hasn’t yet sent up snacks.

Seeing that Pei Che is about to leave, Jiang Miao quickly grabs him. “No need. I’m not that hungry. If someone finds out, who knows how they’ll laugh at us.” After all, they aren’t here just for the food.

Pei Che, seeing Jiang Miao anxiously tugging on his sleeve, has no choice but to give up the idea of fetching food.

Their interaction does not go unnoticed. Someone approaches the host and says something, and soon, the Marquis of Xinyang suddenly calls Pei Che over.

“What instructions do you have, Marquis?” Pei Che asks politely.

The Marquis of Xinyang smiles and says, “I’ve long heard that the young heir of the Pei family is quite accomplished in painting. Why not join us and create a piece today?”

Pei Che responds humbly, “The Marquis flatters me too much. I truly don’t deserve such praise. With so many talented individuals here displaying their skills, I think it’s best I avoid embarrassing myself.”

His modest response earns him the favor of those present. Just as Pei Che thinks he can avoid participating, the Marquis speaks again.

“We are all among friends today, so there’s no need to worry about embarrassment. I hope the young heir won’t decline.”

With this remark, the Marquis of Xinyang leaves Pei Che no room to refuse. Left with no choice, Pei Che agrees to paint.

Jiang Miao watches as the Marquis summons servants to quickly prepare the paper and grind the ink, feeling a bit worried. He has seen some of Pei Che’s paintings before, but this sudden request leaves Pei Che completely unprepared. What should he do?

Pei Che, the main person tasked with painting, is actually calmer than Jiang Miao. However, there are already so many participants, and the typical autumn scenes have almost all been depicted. What should he paint?

Seeing Pei Che hold the brush for a long time without starting, Jiang Miao grows anxious. He walks over and says, “Hurry up and start painting! The incense is already halfway burned. Once the others finish, they’ll definitely start urging you.”

“I’m trying to think of something unique to paint,” Pei Che replies, pondering what else could represent autumn.

Jiang Miao, having just seen the other paintings, suddenly leans close to Pei Che’s ear and quietly offers a suggestion. At first, Pei Che’s brow is tightly furrowed, but as he listens, his expression grows happier, and inspiration seems to pour into his mind like a spring.

He raises his brush and swiftly outlines mountains, fields, and more. A completely unique autumn scene appears on the paper. Just as he finishes the final stroke, the incense burns out.

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