137. The Collection of Abing's Melodies

Ji Fanxing thought for a moment, then stood up again, facing the camera with a slightly serious expression as she introduced:

"Hello everyone, I am Ji Fanxing. Today, I would like to bring you a few erhu pieces.

Before the formal performance, I want to tell you a story behind these pieces..."

Ji Fanxing's voice was crisp and melodious. The netizens' attention was quickly captured, and they quieted down one after another to listen to what she had to say.

"Around the 1950s, a music professor named Yang Yinliu happened to discover a street busker named Abing...

Abing was blind in both eyes and spent his entire life wandering in destitution...

His music was both a true portrayal of his own bumpy fate and a microcosm of the living conditions of ordinary people in that era.

Professor Yang was deeply shocked by Abing's musical talent and realized that this was an incomparably precious heritage of national music.

Therefore, together with Ms. Cao Anhe, he overcame numerous difficulties to make emergency recordings of Abing's music and compiled them into *The Abing Music Collection*, allowing these sounds of nature to be passed down to future generations..."

Ji Fanxing told the story of Yang Yinliu and Abing word by word.

"...Thank you for listening to my story. Now, what I am going to play is the most classic work in *The Abing Music Collection*, *Moon Reflected on the Second Spring*."

Ji Fanxing's lingering, narrative voice possessed an extraordinary infectious power, drawing everyone into that legendary story.

Yet, the people in the live broadcast room were beginning to feel restless.

[I came here to listen to songs, why are we telling stories instead?]

[If the person on the screen weren't Ji Fanxing, I would have left long ago.]

[Yang Yinliu? Abing? Who are they? I've never even heard of them. And what is *Moon Reflected on the Second Spring*?]

[Speechless. It's not like it's anything famous; who cares about the story behind it? Besides, this is probably a fake story.]

[Telling us stories with an erhu—is she going to ask for tips next? Hahaha!]

[To the people above, do you have any hearts at all? I have a hunch that to make the God Ji speak this much, this piece definitely won't be simple.]

More doubts surged forward. Seeing the comments in the live broadcast chat, Lu Shengge couldn't help but worry.

Ji Fanxing did not miss the change in her expression, guessing that the atmosphere in the live broadcast room might not be too wonderful right now.

She insisted on telling this story not only to let everyone know that the erhu is a folk art.

It was also because, precisely because Long Kingdom lacked people like Professor Yang Yinliu who dedicated themselves to rescuing and organizing national music...

that this world was missing many pieces of music like *Moon Reflected on the Second Spring* that had shone brilliantly on Earth.

The transmission of every culture cannot be separated from those silently dedicated guardians who protect it with all their hearts.

She wanted everyone to feel the significance of *Moon Reflected on the Second Spring* and remember the actions and spirit of Professor Yang Yinliu.

Long Kingdom and Huaxia share the same ancestral lineage; they must never forget their roots and allow their culture to be erased in the dust of history!

This was not alarmist talk, but something actually happening in Long Kingdom right now!

Ji Fanxing sat down once again. Her delicate hands lifted lightly, and her slender fingers rested upon the strings of the erhu.

The bow hair was drawn slowly across the strings, and the opening few notes drifted out—sorrowful without being desolate, mournful without being resentful.

"This sound..." Lu Changhe abruptly straightened his body, his eyes locked firmly onto Ji Fanxing and the erhu in her hands.

The bullet comments in the live broadcast room decreased significantly. Some people were immediately captivated by this unfamiliar melody, while others still expressed difficulty in accepting it.

[This sound... why does it sound a bit eerie?]

[This piece... why does it feel a bit sad?]

[Even so, I still want to say that something like the erhu really isn't suited for young people.]

[To the person above, shut your mouth and just listen to the music properly!]

As the music progressed, the tune gradually grew profound and complex, shifting between low and soaring, leisurely and hurried.

It was just like Abing's bumpy life experiences, full of twists, turns, and challenges.

Lu Changhe seemed to see a weather-beaten, blind old man playing an erhu under the moonlight, pouring out a lifetime of joys and sorrows, sorrows and resilience.

Looking at the skilled Ji Fanxing, a stormy sea of astonishment churned within his heart. He considered himself quite knowledgeable about the erhu, yet he had never heard such a soul-stirring performance.

In the live broadcast room, those netizens who had previously been mocking the erhu as a "beggar's instrument" all shut their mouths at this moment.

[Holy crap, can the erhu really produce this kind of sound?]

[Listening to it made tears fall. I feel like I saw a down-and-out street busker, listening to his tune and experiencing his entire life.]

[I feel like those people carrying erhus on TV shouldn't be beggars, they should be performers—people making a living through art. Television misled me!]

[I feel like my soul has been cleansed by this piece.]

[I didn't feel much at first, but after listening, I realized my grandmother had been wiping away tears the whole time. My grandmother doesn't know many characters, yet she actually understood this piece...]

[To the user above, your grandmother's generation must have had a really hard time. I'm watching the live stream at the village entrance, and in no time, all the grandmothers and grandfathers in the village gathered around, and now they're chasing after me asking what this piece is.]

In the live broadcast room, those who had previously complained that the erhu sounded terrible were now completely awestruck by Ji Fanxing's performance.

They had never imagined that the erhu could play such wonderful music.

Lu Shengge's tears could no longer be held back and spilled over her eyelids.

She could never have imagined that her battered old erhu could produce such moving music.

And that it would genuinely completely change the minds of those who had previously held prejudices against the erhu.

She knew what her fans' usual attitudes were like.

Every time she played the erhu, she lost followers.

Now, not only did she not lose followers, but her subscriber count had grown significantly.

As the piece came to an end, Ji Fanxing was about to put the erhu away when she was called back by Lu Changhe.

Stroking his beard with a lingering sense of fascination, he said:

"*The Abing Music Collection* should have more than just one piece, right? Why not show us the rest?"

"Of course, Mr. Lu." Ji Fanxing readjusted the position of the erhu, preparing to begin the next piece.

"This piece is called *Cold Spring Wind Tune*."

As she spoke, her left thumb gently supported the neck of the instrument, while her other four fingers naturally curved to press the strings. Holding the bow in her right hand, she lightly rested the bow hair on the strings.

With a subtle twist of her wrist, the melody of *Cold Spring Wind Tune* gradually began to sound.

This piece shared a somewhat similar melody to *Moon Reflected on the Second Spring*, but it sounded like an entirely different flavor.

Its lines were relatively smooth, giving a distinct sense of sorrow and elegiac melancholy. Listening to it felt like being immersed in a chilling dream wrapped in cold air—bleak yet clear-headed.

Just at that moment, several students who had been lingering and peeking around the perimeter could no longer hold back. They quietly gathered around, listening in rapt fascination.

"No way! I must learn the erhu!"