Winning or losing doesn’t matter; what truly counts is taking part.

“Long hair stirs the ripples, white cloth unfurls upon the stone—
A river imp, pole in hand, ferries a boat through the ages—
Raindrops scatter from the eaves, kitchen smoke rises softly—
Through the twists and turns, where are you now, who once seemed so near—”

Ji Fanxing played the pipa resting in her arms, her melody gentle and winding, her voice rippling slowly outward, like a breeze stirring the lotus pond and sending faint shivers across the water.

The audience was thus transported into the misty, rain-soaked lands of Jiangnan. Amid the humid haze, a woman stood with an umbrella on a small bridge, beneath which emerald waters flowed and a boatman drifted by on his long craft. On either side of the little river, houses pressed close together, their chimneys curling with smoke; merchants opened wooden windows, calling out to customers...

Time seemed to slow, and everyone felt as though their entire being had settled into stillness.

“Hey, Liu Lu, where are you from?”
At the National Conservatory of Longguo, someone nudged Liu Lu with a shoulder and whispered.
“Gu...Gusu. Why do you ask?”
“Is this the kind of song your family teahouse performs?” the person pressed.
“Pretty much…” Liu Lu recalled, “our house is by the river, and there are many teahouses there.”
“Great, send me your address right now!”
“Oh…what?!”

In a high-end residential complex in Haishi, a newlywed couple was planning their honeymoon.
“The tickets to Nice have gone up again!” the woman complained. “They weren’t this expensive last month!”
“There’s nothing we can do, the Golden Week is coming and everyone’s traveling abroad.” The man, wearing headphones, reached out to pat his wife’s head.
“Worse still, the hotels raised their prices too! I made a reservation in advance, but as soon as they heard I was from Longguo, they wanted to charge more! Isn’t that a scam?”
“How about…” the man hesitated, “we go to Gusu instead? That’s a water town too…”
“Gusu? What’s there to do domestically? Nice is an ancient city…” the woman sounded unimpressed.
The man took off his headphones and placed them over his wife’s ears.
“Come on, let’s just check it out.”
Through the headphones, Ji Fanxing’s singing came:

“Raindrops scatter from the eaves, kitchen smoke rises softly—
Through the twists and turns, where are you now, who once seemed so near—”

The woman’s eyes flew wide open and she stared at her husband in speechless amazement. “This…this is!”
“Want to go see for yourself?”
“Yes, yes, yes! Let’s go!” she nodded without hesitation. “I’ll cancel that wretched hotel right now!”

At the show’s venue, Ji Fanxing’s soft, lilting dialect left the crowd intoxicated.
She looked at the faces in the audience and knew she had chosen the right song.
As the pipa’s turning pegs sounded and her gentle singing filled the air, time slipped by in a blink.

Although “Slowing the Tune” is a popular song, in China its Suzhou ballad version is widely cherished.
In many local tea houses, one can request this song.
Drunken, languid dialects charm the ear, and for many, this is their first encounter with the art of ballad singing and the beauty of the Wu dialect.
Now, by singing this piece, she hoped people of Longguo would sense the charm of Gusu and come to love its culture and traditions.

She recalled some of the comments she’d once read online:
Ballad singing is not busking—it is an art form with a distinct regional character.

As the song came to an end, Ji Fanxing rose to thank everyone.
Now, no one thought her attire was merely an attempt to imitate her elder sister.
Is this not the very image of a Jiangnan woman?
Soft Wu accents, elegant and refined, a beauty that seeps into the bones and lingers in the soul—a musical sound that intoxicates.
How refined it is to listen to songs and drink tea, yet in film and television it is often criticized as a decadent pastime of feudal literati.
But who wouldn’t want to be a carefree dandy if it meant enjoying such melodies?

“Damn! The TV lied to me!”
“My bones are melting… Nothing on my agenda today, I’ll leave the palace and go listen to songs in the pleasure quarters.”
“Watching Ji Shengxue’s performance was stunning, but Ji Fanxing’s song made me truly appreciate the pipa and the allure of Jiangnan. That settles it, I’ve bought my ticket!”
“Same here! I never thought my own country had anything this fascinating, but this song fills me with longing…”
“I can’t take it! How many treasures does Longguo still have buried? Go, Fang Zhijing and Ji Fanxing! Show those who mock our country’s backwardness just how dazzling our culture truly is!”
“I was going to have my daughter learn violin, but after watching this, I’m not so sure. The sound of the pipa struck my very heart!”

On stage, Brother Du was briefly stunned. He’d thought Ji Fanxing’s posture was just to compete with her sister.
He hadn’t expected his own narrowness.
This girl was truly earnest!

He could already imagine, with the boost from “Dream Play” and “Slowing the Tune,” the pipa and the Wu dialect would become widely known.
Thinking this, he looked at Ji Fanxing with not only admiration but also a touch of affection for a talented junior.
Such a gifted and broad-minded young woman was a rarity in the entertainment world.
He’d heard she had politely declined all agency offers to go independent.
Previously, Brother Du had thought Ji Fanxing naïve, but now he couldn’t help pondering what resources he might use to help her.
Perhaps he could invite her onto another of his popular variety shows.
Or there was a new horror show by a friend that was still casting—Ji Fanxing’s “Double Happiness” had been well received; maybe she could bring something special to that show…

Having made up his mind, he called Ji Fanxing and Ji Shengxue to stand together on stage, beginning the show’s next segment.

“These two songs were simply fantastic!”
Brother Du’s voice rang out, high with excitement, and the atmosphere soared.
“The moment of excitement has arrived! Now we begin the voting!
One minute to vote! Countdown starts now!”

As his words fell, Ji Fanxing and Ji Shengxue both stood in cheongsam dresses, hair coiled elegantly—one in striking red, the other serene and graceful.
The audience found it hard to choose.

Fang Zhijing’s song and Ji Shengxue’s dance were breathtaking, a feast for the eyes.
Ji Fanxing’s singing and pipa playing were uniquely captivating, her delicate beauty and gentle melody entrancing the soul.
On the large screen behind them, the red progress bar for Ji Fanxing and the blue for Ji Shengxue rose steadily.
The atmosphere was tense.

This was the final challenge of “King of All Music.” If Ji Shengxue succeeded, she would ascend to the King’s throne, and no matter her ranking in the final episode, she would receive the golden scepter.
But Ji Fanxing’s points would be cleared instantly and she’d be eliminated on the spot.

If, however, Ji Shengxue failed, then Ji Fanxing, already ranked first for five consecutive rounds, would take the top spot for the entire season with an overwhelming lead.
After all, she was nearly sixty points ahead of the runner-up.

“Five!
Four!
Three!
Two!
One!
Countdown’s over! Voting closed!”

As Brother Du’s voice ended, a “ding” sounded.
The stage froze for a heartbeat, then a roar of applause erupted.

Ji Fanxing and Ji Shengxue stood side by side, unable to see the results yet.
Ji Fanxing noticed her elder sister’s nails digging into her own palm.
She knew, of course, that her sister’s plan had failed, and her mood must be less than pleasant right now.
But seeing her like this, Ji Fanxing felt oddly good.
She despised herself for it—she was getting worse and worse. Yet she couldn’t help but quietly ask,

“Sister, are you nervous?”

Ji Shengxue, hearing the question, drew a sharp breath and clenched her fist even tighter.
“And you, little sister? Are you nervous? If I win, you’ll be eliminated.”

Ji Shengxue truly lived up to her reputation—still composed even now.

“Not at all,” Ji Fanxing said, wanting to see a more lively side of her sister. She pointed to the throne high on the side stage.
“I’ve sat up there for five rounds now—I’m sick of it…
I’ve run out of things to say in my victory speeches.
Thinking about it, winning or losing doesn’t matter; it’s the taking part that counts.”

What a phrase—“it’s the taking part that counts.” Ji Shengxue’s expression twisted for an instant before she took a deep breath. “You’re getting more and more willful, little sister. If you really don’t like it, perhaps—”

Before she could finish, Brother Du’s voice boomed out.

“And now I announce—the results are…!”