Chapter 179: The Puppet Play

Who could have imagined that such a simple tune would originate from an ancient legend?

As for "Pulling the Strings," it not only perfectly interprets this story but brings it to life with breathtaking vividness. Just listening to it is enough to feel the deep emotions contained within.

Just as everyone was filled with emotion, the elderly gentleman finally delivered his concluding remarks.

The old man said, "In short, the entire composition breaks away from convention. Using only a few sparse lines, it portrays a unique puppet character to the absolute fullest."

"This is a story that is both touching and moving, and I think it is truly exceptional."

"Although there are some flaws in 'Pulling the Strings,' there is nothing fundamentally wrong with this song."

"For so many years in the Mandopop scene, we have grown accustomed to the empty, agonizing moans found in many Chinese pop songs—lyrics like 'I am in pain, I love you deeply, but you do not love me,' and so on. Things that could easily be expressed in a single sentence are instead dragged out and repeated over and over."

"That is why every song with even a slightly unique artistic conception feels precious to me, let alone when certain lyrics manage to strike a chord deep within the heart."

"Between a uniqueness full of flaws and a mediocrity without any major faults, I would still choose that single flash of unique brilliance."

"Moreover, its flaws are not all that significant. It is simply that the expectations placed upon it were too high, which is why there is this slight sense of disappointment."

Everyone present nodded in agreement; these words struck a chord deep within their own hearts.

"Of course, I must mention the opera-style vocals in the climax of 'Pulling the Strings.' This is the first time I have ever listened to traditional operatic vocals and felt tingling sensations across my scalp."

"It was truly... so breathtakingly beautiful!"

"The lyrics of 'Pulling the Strings' appear simple, but every single syllable is crystal clear, exceptionally clear."

"When the singer performs the line, 'An orchid gesture twists the mortal world like flowing water,' in a fleeting daze, it genuinely feels as though one is watching a beautifully made-up *dan* role performing on stage, full of infinite charm in her brows and eyes, brimming with life and spirit!"

"To use the phrasing of modern youngsters, it is drop-dead gorgeous!"

"Therefore, I believe that this tune, 'Pulling the Strings,' will carve out a brand new path within traditional-style music."

With these words, the old man lowered the microphone.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience, echoing continuously and endlessly.

"Damn, I originally thought this review was just for grabbing attention, but it turns out he really knows his stuff!"

"Didn't you say music critics are only in it for the money? Didn't you say you could do just as well? Why don't you come up and give us a couple of lines, then?"

"A review like this requires a solid foundation of professional accumulation and life experience; it is simply impossible to explain so much knowledge and reasoning in such an accessible way without them."

"I can only say that everything has its limits, and no matter the profession or the person, one should never look down on others."

...

The old man's words sparked heated discussions across the internet, with everyone expressing their admiration for his knowledge and professional competence.

With the elderly gentleman setting the opening tone, the viewers in the livestream also perked up.

At this moment, Young Master Liu on stage added, "Your judgment is extremely accurate, and the fact that you were able to recognize the origins of 'Pulling the Strings' has truly piqued my interest."

"Had you not told me, I honestly would never have guessed that 'Pulling the Strings' possessed such a touching background story."

Young Master Liu's sincere remarks elicited a chorus of agreement throughout the venue.

While the old man was giving his critique, many people online had already searched for the origins of "Pulling the Strings."

This was a classic piece of classical text.

Yu, who was capable of seeing ghosts, once encountered an elderly man holding a puppet inside a snow-covered temple. The old man had white hair and held in his hands an exquisite puppet resembling a lovely young maiden, with a teardrop-shaped pearl painted upon her eyes that evoked deep sympathy.

As the howling snow fell outside, the two of them sat side by side by the campfire. The old man spoke: in his youth, he loved the art of puppet strings, indulging in the crafting of bells and marionettes. As he grew older and his ambitions waned, he made a living through this craft, substituting objects for people, finding a unique joy in it.

Regrettably, he wandered his entire life, without a home, without a companion, possessing only his puppet.

The old man spoke and wept as he spoke. Yu offered kind words to comfort him and begged him to play a tune, performing a puppet show upon a three-foot red cloth. As the rhythm of the music played, puppets danced gracefully in the air. Though sorrow was painted upon their faces, their allure was boundless.

When the tune ended, the old man cradled the puppet in his arms, a fleeting expression of joy crossing his face. A moment later, filled with a mix of anger and vexation, he declared, "My entire life has been ruined by these puppets. The weather is cold, I have no clothes to wear in winter, and I am dirt poor. I might as well burn the damn thing."

In a rage, he hurled the puppet straight into the fire.

Alas, before he could stop himself—

Suddenly, the puppet within the flames slowly stood up, bowed in salute, looking entirely like a living human being. Tears hung upon its face, its smile faded, and it vanished into the blaze.

It was not until dawn that the fire finally extinguished.

The old man woke up as from a dream, weeping bitterly as he cried, "I am warm, and I am alone."

Text like this is generally difficult for ordinary people to comprehend; even the most brilliant scholars might not fully understand it.

Consequently, quick-witted individuals online posted the original ancient text onto Weibo.

In a mere moment, the view count for this post surpassed ten thousand!

While the author of this post might have been somewhat self-serving, the words he spoke possessed genuine professional integrity, and he had seamlessly integrated his reflections with modern perspectives.

The Weibo post read as follows:

Ever since I was young, I have been able to see strange things that others cannot—just as I saw when reading this story.

Back then, I was still very young, incredibly youthful, and nothing in the world seemed to matter.

Whether encountering all sorts of demons and ghosts or traveling alone, I never took them to heart. Once, I was even stranded halfway along my journey by a heavy snowstorm, and thankfully, a dilapidated temple offered shelter.

The night I met them was precisely that kind of snowy, howling night.

An old man, an old man who played with puppets.

The feeling was utterly surreal.

The old man was dressed in rags, teetering on the brink of death, with nothing of value on his person save for a single puppet.

The puppet resembled a delicate young girl, crafted with such exquisite detail that she looked as fresh and vibrant as if she had just been painted. Her expression was lifelike, and a teardrop lingered at the corner of her eye, stirring my heart and nearly making me reach out to catch her.

Naturally, there was no way he could catch anything at all.

Our chance encounter was a twist of fate. With the night deep, the snow heavy, and nothing to do, the old man and I huddled around a campfire to warm ourselves and chat. Once the conversation opened, it could not be stopped. I listened to his rambling chatter for the better part of an hour, hearing the entirety of his past.

He said that in his youth he loved to play above all else. Whenever he heard the temple bells chime, he would stop in his tracks. Later, upon learning it was the work of traveling performers, he ran off to the theatrical stage. Seeing the puppet shows performed upon a three-foot red carpet, his heart blossomed with joy, and he began to learn the craft.

His family beat him soundly for it, but with no other choice, they ultimately let him have his way.

Ever since he was a child, he had performed upon the stage.