Chapter 12: The Flute

Chapter 12: The Flute

Luan Zhi scratched his head and said, “I don’t really know how to guide someone else. How about... I show you the manuscript of the third volume of Dragon Clan?”

Zhang Suxin was momentarily taken aback. “So the third volume is a tragedy as well?”

Luan Zhi replied, “You could say that.”

Zhang Suxin fell silent.

A strong sense of resentment welled up inside Zhang Suxin. Suddenly, she picked up a pen and began sketching and writing on paper.

Seeing this, Luan Zhi asked, “Got some inspiration?”

Zhang Suxin continued to write while murmuring softly, “I do have some ideas, but they don’t quite fit the song request.”

Luan Zhi leaned in to take a look. Having retained countless works from his previous life, and with his accumulated knowledge of music theory and instruments, he could effortlessly appreciate the nuances.

Zhang Suxin had only written the opening bars of a score, but from that brief beginning, Luan Zhi could taste an intense undercurrent of dissatisfaction and grievance.

In short, the mood of the piece was quite fierce.

Was there really such deep resentment?

Luan Zhi couldn’t understand. When he first read Dragon Clan, it was merely for entertainment. Though he felt a pang of loss after finishing the third volume, it wasn’t enough to make him want to rail against heaven and earth.

Of course, Zhang Suxin wasn’t quite at that level of fury, but being able to express such strong emotions in a song was, to Luan Zhi, rather impressive.

Perhaps... that’s just how powerful a creative singer can be?

Luan Zhi didn’t disturb Zhang Suxin and quietly watched from the side.

The former pop queen’s skills were indeed formidable; Luan Zhi saw that she sometimes fell into deep thought, sometimes scribbled, as if first simulating the impression of the music in her mind before transcribing it.

Judging by the sheet music on the paper, its quality was clearly high.

Halfway through, Zhang Suxin stopped, exhaled softly, and sighed:

“Let it be then. If it’s a tragedy, it’s a tragedy. Just not a tragedy like Xiami’s. After all, you’re a tragedy-type author. How could I expect you to write a perfect ending?”

Luan Zhi was speechless.

The resentment still lingered in those words.

And it seemed that the musical mood only deepened her grudge.

“Why didn’t you finish it?” Luan Zhi asked.

Zhang Suxin replied, “This is all the idea I have for now. I’ll save it and finish it later. It’s off-topic anyway, so this commissioned song can’t be used.”

Luan Zhi asked, “Do you want to see the manuscript then?”

Zhang Suxin shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m afraid if I read it, all I’ll do is finish the song I just started.”

Luan Zhi was silent.

Zhang Suxin continued to worry. This commission was tied to her livelihood, so no wonder she was so concerned.

Luan Zhi suggested, “How about you try playing the piano and writing the song at the same time? I’ll just watch over Qianqian here.”

Qianqian had fallen asleep and seemed peaceful. The only issue was that the little girl tended to be restless in her sleep, turning this way and that, so Luan Zhi needed to be careful she didn’t fall off the bed.

In just this short time, Qianqian had already turned ninety degrees, lying across the head of the bed, her small head resting against Zhang Suxin’s slender waist.

Luan Zhi felt confident he could handle this task.

But Zhang Suxin said, “No need. I used to need to play the piano while composing songs, but since having Qianqian, I’ve become more skilled at imagining music in my head.”

Luan Zhi admired her greatly. “That’s impressive.”

Zhang Suxin smiled faintly at him but worried aloud, “But I still can’t write the new song...”

Luan Zhi thought for a moment and said, “How about when Qianqian wakes up, I sing a song for you to listen to? Maybe it’ll spark some inspiration?”

In his previous life, whenever he had the urge to write online fiction, it was often triggered while reading other novels.

Sometimes the dissatisfaction or excitement from a novel would inspire him to start writing one of his own, or a particular plot and chapter would spark his creativity, making him open a document and begin.

He had never written songs before, but he thought since it was all creative work, the same method might work.

Zhang Suxin’s eyes lit up. “You wrote it yourself?”

After hearing Luan Zhi’s “Two Tigers,” Zhang Suxin had great confidence in his creative abilities.

She had tried composing children’s songs herself and knew they weren’t easy to write.

She had been brewing ideas for a long time but never managed to complete one.

Luan Zhi nodded, “That’s right.”

He wasn’t ashamed or resistant to the fact that he borrowed songs; otherwise, he wouldn’t have plagiarized books. If he were resistant, how could he live so comfortably in this world?

The inexhaustible treasure trove of works in his memory was a gift from his previous life. He wouldn’t be foolish enough to discard such a treasure chest without using it.

Of course, this time singing wasn’t about copying for profit, just helping Zhang Suxin find inspiration.

After all, the song commission wasn’t his, and even if he wrote songs himself, they probably wouldn’t earn much money.

If he ever had to rely on songwriting for income, he would have to carefully consider song selection and sales opportunities.

Zhang Suxin became interested and perked up. “Alright. When Qianqian wakes up, I’ll invite you to the music room to sing. I’m all ears.”

As they spoke, Qianqian on the bed suddenly stirred, lifted her head, and opened her sleepy eyes, glancing at Zhang Suxin and then at Luan Zhi. She then pointed in a direction and said, “Music room is that way.”

Both Zhang Suxin and Luan Zhi laughed. They didn’t know when the little girl had awakened but were amused that her first act was to give them directions.

Luan Zhi opened his arms, and the little girl smiled, crawling toward him.

He picked Qianqian up and said, “Come on, Qianqian, lead Daddy the way.”

“To that side.”

Qianqian pointed just outside the bedroom door and said brightly. The little one had climbed from the bed into Luan Zhi’s arms, fully awake now.

Following Qianqian’s lead, Luan Zhi left the bedroom, with Zhang Suxin smiling softly and following behind.

“To that side.”

Qianqian pointed to a room that was closed.

Luan Zhi went over and opened the door. Inside stood a piano against the wall, a guitar hanging on the wall, and opposite was a cabinet housing a violin, a flute, and other instruments.

Luan Zhi said, “You have quite a few instruments here.”

Zhang Suxin replied, “That’s all I have. My space isn’t big enough for more instruments. Most of these have become Qianqian’s toys now.”

Luan Zhi chuckled, “That’s good—cultivating Qianqian’s musical sensibility from a young age.”

Zhang Suxin smiled too, “She’s so little, she doesn’t understand anything yet. What could I possibly cultivate?”

“You never know,” Luan Zhi said.

He walked over to the cabinet and pointed at the flute behind the glass door. “May I use this?”

Zhang Suxin’s cheeks flushed slightly but she didn’t refuse. “It’s fine. You can use it.”

She had recently been playing with Qianqian and had just given her the flute to try blowing.

Before she could finish speaking, Qianqian had already eagerly opened the cabinet door, taken out the flute, and handed it to Luan Zhi, saying, “Daddy, here you go!”

Luan Zhi took the flute and set Qianqian down. After testing the pitch and finding it just right, he raised the flute to his lips and began to play.

In his memory, there was a song where the flute’s opening notes were a killer introduction.

Listening, Zhang Suxin was stunned and fell silent.

(End of Chapter)