Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Wen Zhi walked to his door and was about to knock when the door swung open. Xiao Xiao, wearing a pink princess dress and hugging a pink plush toy, came skipping out. Upon seeing Wen Zhi, her eyes crinkled into happy crescents as she asked, "Pretty sister, can we go ride the carriage now?"

Wen Zhi took her hand and smiled. "Yes, we’ll go after we finish eating."

After the meal, Wen Zhi and Liu Yiru took the four children to explore Peach Blossom Island. Director Fang sent a cameraman to document their trip.

The number of live stream viewers didn’t decrease but instead grew, as if watching a novelty island adventure.

The group emerged onto the broad road outside the inn, where four tall white horses could be seen waiting at the intersection from afar. Behind the horses sat a coachman, and behind him was a boxy wooden carriage with gauze curtains and bells hanging from its four corners.

The carriage walls were carved with intricate floral patterns, and its open sides made it perfect for sightseeing. It looked more like a decorative float than a traditional carriage.

Xiao Xiao and Chen Yueliang let out awed gasps, then broke free from the adults’ hands and joyfully ran toward the carriage.

Once everyone was seated, the carriage lumbered forward, its bells jingling with every step, turning heads as they passed.

A child by the roadside spotted the carriage and tugged at his mother, refusing to move and begging to ride it. His helpless mother hurried over to ask the coachman how much a ride would cost.

The coachman waved his hand apologetically. "Sorry, this carriage isn’t part of the island’s attractions. It was privately rented by this young lady here." In other words, Wen Zhi could take the carriage home after using it.

The live stream viewers were green with envy.

"Big spender! Can we be friends?"

"Waaah, can’t this carriage stay? I’ll save up and come take a ride someday!"

"This carriage must be so expensive. How much? Tell me so I can be jealous!"

The child’s mother lit up when she spotted Wen Zhi, gushing excitedly, "Wen Zhi? Are you Wen Zhi? Ahhhh, I’m one of your Gardenias! You’re even prettier in person than on TV!"

Wen Zhi was torn between laughter and disbelief. Would a true Gardenia not know she was on Peach Blossom Island? Was this level of surprise necessary?

The woman seemed to catch Wen Zhi’s skepticism and quickly explained, "I only watched the first episode, then went traveling. I planned to catch up on the second episode when I got back—I never expected to run into you here!"

"Can we take a photo together?"

Wen Zhi smiled and moved to her side. The woman immediately leaned in, holding up her phone to snap a picture of them with the carriage, beaming as she flashed a peace sign. Then she abruptly lifted her son onto the carriage. "You can take my son with you. I’ll wait here."

Wen Zhi: "..."

Liu Yiru burst out laughing. "Lady, you’re just ditching your kid?"

The woman only grinned at her freshly taken photo. "It’s fine, just take him for a ride."

The little boy had zero stranger danger. As soon as he boarded, he greeted Mu Mu and the others, then curiously looked around.

Wen Zhi and Liu Yiru exchanged a look that said *kids these days* before signaling the coachman to continue.

"Lol, this lady’s got nerves of steel, just handing her kid over like that."

"Lol, seriously doubting if she’s even a real Gardenia. Maybe she just wanted a free ride?"

"Mom’s carefree, kid’s carefree—both here for the vibes."

Peach Blossom Island was vast and beautiful, and the group spent over half an hour touring the more distant spots. Wen Zhi handed the kid back to his mom before piling out with the giddy kids.

After walking a short distance, a blond foreigner waved at them from afar, with a group of other foreigners.

Wen Zhi and the others didn’t pay much attention and continued walking. The blond guy with blue eyes ran straight over, grinning at her and greeting, “Hi.” Then he added in halting Chinese, “Nǐ hǎo.”

Liu Yiru elbowed Wen Zhi, whispering in her ear, “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”

Wen Zhi nudged her: “Cut it out, we’re shooting the show.”

Surprisingly, the blond guy understood and asked in clumsy Chinese, “Shooting the show? Are you from the *Baby!* crew?”

Wen Zhi was surprised: “You understand?”

The foreign guy nodded: “Yeah, hello, I’m Thomas. I studied in China.” After introducing himself, he repeated, “Are you from the *Baby!* crew?”

Wen Zhi nodded.

Thomas’s foreign friends got excited, all talking over each other: “Is Mr. Lin, Lin Jiyao here?”

“Huh?” Now Liu Yiru was surprised too. “You’re looking for Lin Ji-ge?”

Thomas nodded.

A group of young foreigners looking for Lin Jiyao?

Wen Zhi and Liu Yiru exchanged glances: What’s going on? They don’t look hostile.

“Aaaah!”

“That blond guy is so handsome!”

“At first I thought he was hitting on Wen Zhi, but turns out he’s here for our Ji-ge.”

“I just wanna ask, what does this hunk want with our Lin, hahaha.”

“Hahaha, is this arranged by the crew? They’re stepping up their game, doing an international crossover?”

Wen Zhi looked at the cameraman, asking if this was arranged by the show. The cameraman shook his head, so she asked Thomas for his identity.

Thomas said, “Lin and I went to music school together. We were classmates.”

So they were classmates.

The group followed Wen Zhi and the others back to the inn. When they arrived, even the crew was surprised.

After some questioning, Director Fang had someone fetch Lin Jiyao downstairs.

Lin Jiyao had just been napping and was still half-asleep, rubbing his head as he walked downstairs. Just as he reached the stairwell, he heard a voice with a foreign accent exclaim excitedly, “Mr. Lin, finally found you!”

Lin Jiyao froze, stopping rubbing his head to rub his eyes. After several rubs, he finally recognized the blond guy downstairs. His expression turned stormy instantly as he said coldly, “What are you doing here? I’m busy.”

The crew and Wen Zhi’s group looked back and forth between Lin Jiyao and Thomas: These two clearly had history.

Then why was Thomas so happy to see Lin Jiyao?

Thomas ignored Lin Jiyao’s dark mood and said brightly, “My friend told me that as long as I come to the *Baby!* filming location, you’ll accept my challenge. I want to compete with you in piano—you can’t refuse.”

Here to challenge him?

Wen Zhi asked Director Fang, “What’s going on? Is this arranged by the crew?”

Director Fang quickly denied it: “No, the people arranged by the crew haven’t arrived on the island yet.” “But if this foreigner is here for a challenge, we just saved some money on guests.”

Wen Zhi: That’s sneaky. You can just swap people out like that?

Hearing the noise, Chen Yuyao opened the door and came out, her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a group of foreigners, but she kept quiet, sensing the tension.

Liu Yiru looked up and asked, "Ji Yao, what's going on? Are they really your classmates?"

Lin Jiyao scratched his head irritably. "Kind of. We met when I was studying abroad. He keeps pestering me for piano showdowns. He lost last year and still came back this year. Don’t you ever get sick of it?"

This Thomas is a piano nut—anyone who plays better than him, he challenges.

Thomas had the nerve to taunt: "Mr. Lin, are you scared of me? Then just back down."

Back down?

Lin Jiyao had never known defeat in piano.

"You showed up empty-handed. What are you going to compete with?"

Thomas immediately replied, "We brought a piano. Hold on, I’ll make a call." He made a phone call in English in front of a live audience of millions.

Some live stream viewers who didn’t understand English quickly asked:

"OMG, what did Thomas say?"

"Replying to the above: Thomas asked someone to bring over the box he left at the entrance of Peach Blossom Island and told them to be careful because there’s a piano inside."

"Holy crap, how obsessed is this guy? He carried something that heavy across the ocean just for a challenge."

"This is gonna be good! Lin Jiyao, represent China and defeat him!"

Lin Jiyao frowned: This guy just won’t quit.

"We’re filming a show. Let’s compete another time."

Thomas came all the way here and absolutely wouldn’t leave. He stared at Lin Jiyao and asked, "Are you afraid of losing to me? Mr. Lin, when did you become so timid? Or is it that all Chinese people are this timid?"

That didn’t sit well with the Chinese audience. The live stream viewers were spamming angry emojis, demanding someone knock his block off.

Wen Zhi turned to Lin Jiyao and said, "Just go for it. Director Fang said the money saved on hiring NPCs will be used to buy everyone ice cream."

Director Fang: When did I say we’d buy ice cream? That’s our hard-earned budget!

The kids instantly perked up at the mention of ice cream.

"Brother, brother, I want ice cream!"

"Brother plays piano the best. He’ll definitely beat the blond dude!"

"Ji Yao, brother, you got this!"

Lin Jiyao walked downstairs. "Alright, let’s do this. Don’t cry when you lose."

Thomas and the other young foreigners were overjoyed. Once the piano was brought over, Thomas immediately sat down and showed off his skills.

His fingers flew over the keys, the scales precise, the melody passionate and full of fighting spirit, like waves crashing one after another. The rhythm was so infectious that people couldn’t help but tap along. When the piece ended, Thomas’s friends clapped enthusiastically, and even the crew couldn’t resist joining in.

Thomas stood up and walked over to Lin Jiyao, taunting, "So? I’ve practiced hard for a year. Pretty good, huh?"

Lin Jiyao rolled his eyes and, without a word, walked to the piano and sat down. His long, elegant fingers gently touched the black-and-white keys, and a beautiful melody poured forth, like a gentle stream slowly nourishing the heart. The notes rose gradually, like the morning sun sweeping over everyone. The music was sometimes bold and bright, sometimes delicate and intricate, layered and deeply moving.

Any listener could tell that compared to mere technical showmanship, Lin Jiyao's piano playing was in a league of its own.

His hand pressed down on the final note, and Thomas’s blue eyes burned with frustration.

Lin Jiyao stood up, walked over to him, and retorted, "Were you practicing with your toes this past year?"

Thomas’s face flushed crimson, clearly understanding the jab, and he shouted back, "I practiced with my hands!"

Aside from the few foreigners, everyone else in the inn stifled their laughter.

"Hahaha, Lin Jiyao’s words are so savage—roasting someone without swearing!"

"Hahaha, veins were popping in his neck!"

"Daring to provoke our Jiyao? Asking for trouble! Everyone knows he’s just an unassuming piano prodigy."

Lin Jiyao didn’t want to argue further and got straight to the point: "By the show’s rules, you lost. You owe me a condition. Stop challenging me from now on—I’m busy."

Dealing with this obsessive fanboy was exhausting. Soulless playing, no matter how technically impressive, meant nothing to him.

Thomas, flushed and furious, refused to accept defeat and sputtered, "This round doesn’t count! You Chinese should compete with us using Chinese instruments. What’s so impressive about beating us with our own piano?"

His friends chimed in: "Yeah, if you’re so skilled, use Chinese instruments. Does China even have any, or do you have to rely on ours?"

"Hahaha, looks like he’s too scared—only knows how to play our stuff."

"Chinese people really are all cowards. What’s the Chinese word for it? ‘Weaklings’?"

The Chinese present all wore grim expressions. Wen Zhi sighed internally: Some jerks are universal.

Thomas kept goading them: "Well? How about it? This time, let’s go big—a team match. The losers call the winners ‘Daddy’."

The live-stream audience went ballistic.

"Damn it, these foreigners are begging for an ass-kipping—coming to China and demanding to be called ‘Daddy’!"

"They skipped manners class, just trash talk. Lost fair and square, and now they want Lin Jiyao, a pianist, to compete with Chinese instruments?"

"Crossing oceans just to bully people? Why even bother? Cut the feed, lock the doors, and show these punks who's boss—we’ll all pretend we saw nothing."

"Hahaha, the comment above is right! Show these punks who's boss!"

Lin Jiyao wanted to accept, but when it came to Chinese instruments, he only played the guqin—and not even that well.

Director Fang, reading the room, called out, "A loss is a loss. There’s no rematch. Are you here to cause trouble?" He signaled security.

Thomas and his friends barked with laughter, taunting relentlessly: "Haha, they’re just scared! Chinese instruments are inferior to Western ones."

"All cowards, too afraid to compete. Might as well just call us ‘Daddy’ now."

Lin Jiyao gritted his teeth and stepped forward, only to be pulled back sharply by Wen Zhi and Chen Yuyao. The two women pulled him behind them, shouting in near unison: "Fine, we’ll compete!"

"Losers call the winners ‘Daddy’!"

They stood tall and intimidating, their dark eyes burning with fight-ready intensity, cold and resolute—enough to make anyone shrink back.

Thomas and his friends stumbled half a step backward, then puffed up their chests to recover, yelling, "Bring it on! Losers call ‘Daddy’!"

Liu Yiru, Lin Jiyao, and the four little kids stood firmly behind Wen Zhi and Chen Yuyao, chiming in fiercely: "Fine, we’ll compete! Losers call ‘Daddy’!"

The livestream chat exploded with excitement.

"OMG, the kids and parents are all so hot!"

"Beat them and make that blondie say 'Daddy'!!"

"Aaaah, I'm sending a big drum to the production team to smash that little blondie."

"Sister Zhi, Movie Queen Liu, Lin Jiyao, Chen Yuyao, get them! Destroy them!!"

Thomas's crew started clattering through their instruments, to which Wen Zhi shot back defiantly, "What are you doing? Is this the place for a real showdown?"

Thomas and the others were puzzled, "Then where do you want to compete?"

Wen Zhi declared boldly, "Tomorrow at 8 a.m., at Peach Blossom Terrace. We'll compete in front of more witnesses and make you bow down and call us 'Daddy.'"

The prospect of a bigger stage and more spectators had Thomas over the moon.

They couldn't beat Lin Jiyao in piano, but against Chinese instruments? They had this in the bag.

Besides, these women were clearly no musicians.

Victory was theirs.

Just imagining Lin Jiyao admitting defeat and calling him "Daddy" in front of a bigger crowd had Thomas over the moon.

"Fine, tomorrow at 8, Peach Blossom Terrace. Hope you people honor your word."

Thomas and his friends left with their instruments.

Director Fang felt both pleased and worried.

Pleased because the ratings were secured, but worried that this mismatched group might lose to a professional Western music team and make China lose face.

Compared to Director Fang's concerns, Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao were even more uneasy.

Director Fang had the crew film the kids first while the adults gathered in a side room to discuss.

Lin Jiyao thought for a moment and said, "Maybe I should talk to Thomas and tell him to stop causing trouble."

Liu Yiru admitted sheepishly, "I let my temper get the best of me." She added awkwardly, "The only Chinese instrument I know is the erhu, and I learned it from the old gatekeeper at the orphanage." It was fine for fun, but not exactly competition-level.

The audience, too, started having second thoughts as the hype died down.

"Thomas and his friends are obviously pro musicians. Among the parents and kids, only Lin Jiyao's musical, and he's a pianist."

"I think Lin Jiyao mentioned knowing the guqin, but probably just as a hobby."

"Aaaah, what if we lose? Maybe we should jump Thomas now so he can't compete tomorrow?"

"Maybe we should hire a professional Chinese music team and pass them off as contestants. Thomas wouldn’t dare make a fuss then."

"Though I'm worried... as a great nation, ambushing or swapping players would be low-class and make us a laughingstock."

"Earlier, Wen Zhi said Mu Mu studies traditional Chinese culture. Maybe he’s learned traditional instruments too?"

"Are you kidding? Even if Mu Mu has learned, you're counting on a five-year-old?"

Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao both turned to Wen Zhi with worried looks.

Before Wen Zhi could speak, Chen Yuyao spoke first: "Relax, Wen Zhi is a pipa prodigy and has decent skills with other instruments too."

Liu Yiru was surprised: "How do you know that?"

Chen Yuyao: "I just know." In her past life, Noble Consort Wen had put in tremendous effort mastering musical instruments.

Wen Zhi: "Chen Yuyao aces the xiao, guqin, and zheng. Mu Mu tried his hand at a bunch of instruments."

Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru's eyes nearly popped out: "For real?"

These three were clearly hiding something.

Director Fang, standing to the side, looked at Wen Zhi and then at Chen Yuyao, equally astonished: Who even does that these days? Not even palace consorts knew this many.

Wen Zhi nodded firmly: "So, from this afternoon until tonight, you’ll need to grind like there’s no tomorrow. We’ll focus on one piece of ancient music. I’ll write out the score later, and Director Fang will print multiple copies. Practice hard—tomorrow, we’ll make those blondes bow down!"

Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao were stunned speechless.

"Learn it now?"

"Can we really wing this?"

Not that they were wimps, but reaching pro-level chops in an instrument overnight wasn’t easy.

Wen Zhi: "Yes, learn it now. Ji Yao, you’ll practice the guqin. Sister Liu, you’ll practice the erhu. Ji Yao has an excellent sense of music, and Sister Liu isn’t bad either. You can totally pull it off, right?"

Liu Yiru's stubborn streak kicked in: "Fine. Back then, I memorized an entire script overnight. Practicing one piece of music? I’ll nail it, no sweat!"

Lin Jiyao pumped his fists: "Right! I’ve practiced the guqin before—not for too long, but my fingers still remember. Pulling an all-nighter? Bring it on!"

Director Fang slammed the table: "Exactly! Let’s wipe the floor with those blondes. I’ll notify the crew right now to fetch instruments from the shops on the island." Peach Blossom Island was, after all, a place of ancient architecture. Aside from porcelain and calligraphy, there were two or three shops selling traditional instruments. Borrowing them shouldn’t be a problem.

The group was hyped and ready.

Director Fang quickly borrowed the instruments, and the children returned to the inn. The crew cleared away the clutter of tables and chairs on the first floor, setting up the instruments in the side hall.

Chen Yuyao took the score and began patiently guiding Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao through their practice. At first, neither believed she was up to the task, but after just over ten minutes, they realized she had this crazy maturity for her age.

Whether it was the guqin or the erhu, she handled them effortlessly, and her instructions were sharp and to the point. Their impression of her improved significantly.

The score was rough and messy at first.

A crew member scratched his ear and asked Director Fang: "Is this gonna cut it? Is Chen Yuyao the only one teaching?"

Director Fang: "It has to. If Chen Yuyao doesn’t step up, do you expect Her Highness Wen to do it?" He then gave Wen Zhi a complicated look from across the inn’s main hall.

At that moment, Wen Zhi was dishing out snacks, teaching the children harmony.

"The first note—‘Ah…’—flat tone, remember? Hold the sound. Mu Mu and Sen Sen, lower your voices. Xiao Xiao, stop laughing. Yue Ya’er, what are you looking at? Focus!"

"Ah, that’s right. Sen Sen’s harmony is perfect. Here, a cookie as a reward..."

"Second note—‘Ah…’—rising tone. Open your mouth wider, even wider..."

The crew member: "..."

Wasn’t she just rallying everyone with fiery determination earlier?

This Wen Zhi—she always did things her way.

The viewers who finished watching the live stream grew increasingly worried.

"Damn, the thrill of the challenge is now just pure frustration—are they really doing on-the-spot teaching?"

"Liu Yiru's erhu playing has even less rhythm than the cotton-fluffing at the village entrance. Is this even gonna work?"

"Ugh, didn’t Director Fang say Lin Jiyao was good at guqin? Why does it sound like he’s choking, all broken and off-beat?"

"Sister Zhi stays winning—at this critical moment, she’s still playing around with the kids. Ugh, what even was that? All four kids are off-key."

"There are six of those blond guys, right? We only have four adults and four kids here. How’s this even fair? Shouldn’t the production team send two more people? Lin Jiyao on guqin, Liu Yiru on erhu, Chen Yuyao seems to be playing both guzheng and konghou—so what instrument is Wen Zhi planning to use? Why haven’t we seen her practice?"

"Ugh, the more I watch, the more worried I get. Maybe we should just jump them with sacks."

On the other side of the screen, Thomas and his crew were getting more and more excited, high-fiving each other and already thinking of cracking open beers to celebrate.

"Thomas, we’re totally gonna own them."

"Hahahaha, how do you say it in Chinese again? ‘A ragtag bunch’—they’re completely a ‘ragtag bunch.’"

These amateurs—we’ll wipe the floor with them!

To avoid revealing too many details about tomorrow’s competition, Director Fang decided to remove a few more cameras, mostly just filming the parents grinding away at their instruments.

Wen Zhi realized teaching kids was way harder than adults. While Chen Yuyao’s group was making decent progress, theirs was still a mess. By the end, she was almost ready to give up and sighed, "Screw it, drop the opening harmonies. You all should go to sleep."

Kids need sleep, period.

After dismissing the children, she and the three parents ran through the piece together, identifying weak spots and rehearsing a few more times.

Even after the production crew had gone to bed, they were still practicing. Eventually, Wen Zhi passed out on the chaise lounge, and the other guests were sprawled out haphazardly.

Little Dumpling, who’d been asleep, sneaked out and quietly covered each of the adults with a blanket.

At first light, Lin Jiyao was awakened by a chorus of "Ahhhh" sounds. He jerked awake in the chair, the blanket sliding off him.

When did he get a blanket?

Looking around, he noticed Wen Zhi and the other two were also tucked in with blankets.

As he stood up, he accidentally kicked the chair, waking the other three in a daze. Chen Yuyao got up, glanced at the blanket, then at Wen Zhi, who still refused to budge, and walked over to pat her.

"Rise and shine."

Wen Zhi opened her eyes.

She chuckled softly. "Never thought we’d pull this off together. If not for Lu Xun—"

Wen Zhi cut her off. "Shut up." She straightened her clothes and stood up. "This is just temporary, got it?"

She looked up and saw Liu Yiru and Lin Jiyao peeking out the door, straining to see outside. She walked past Chen Yuyao to take a look as well.

There, under the peach blossom tree in the courtyard, Mu Mu was leading three little kids, bathed in the morning light, practicing their harmonies. Little Dumpling, tiny as he was, sang in perfect unison—clear and melodious, already miles better than last night.

Liu Yiru’s voice was warm with pride. "Kids working hard together is so cute."

Lin Jiyao sighed. "Xiao Xiao’s never been this serious before."

Chen Yuyao stared at Mu Mu’s back for a few seconds before whispering to Wen Zhi, "Do you know why, no matter how much I hate you, I’ve never laid a finger on Mu Mu?"

Wen Zhi ignored her.

She continued, "Seeing Mu Mu makes me think—if my Sui An were still alive, he would be this big and just as sensible."

No matter how fiercely they fought, her bottom line was that she’d never harm a child, while Wen Zhi’s was never dirtying her own hands.

Their vulnerabilities seemed almost laughable in the ruthless imperial palace (an abandoned palace for disgraced concubines).

Wen Zhi turned and shot her a glare, "What nonsense are you spouting? You led Lu Xun to doubt Mu Mu’s origins—wasn’t that just to get him killed?"

Chen Yuyao retorted, "I didn’t! I thought even a vicious tiger wouldn’t harm its own cub. At most, he would only deal with you." Never did she expect he’d rather kill Mu Mu than let you go.

Wen Zhi snapped impatiently, "Don’t try to whitewash yourself. Just cooperate properly." If not for the fact that Chen Yuyao had never laid a hand on Mu Mu before, Wen Zhi wouldn’t have spared her life to let her cause trouble in the cold palace.

Liu Yiru turned back, puzzled, "What are you two whispering about? Hurry and call the kids in for breakfast. We should be leaving soon."

The two immediately fell silent.

Director Fang made sure the crew prepared a hearty breakfast and gave a morale-boosting speech. The group then set off grandly toward the Peach Blossom Terrace.

Many live-stream viewers flooded the chat with encouragement.

"Aww, go for it! Rep China and defeat those cocky blondes!"

"You got this! Watching this kid-friendly show has me pumped. The production team is awesome too."

"Say no more—just win, and I’ll set off ten boxes of fireworks!"

"Ahhhh, I’ll set off fifty!"

By the time Wen Zhi’s group arrived, Thomas and his team had already set up their instruments on the Peach Blossom Terrace. A crowd of onlookers had gathered around, including the island’s manager, supervisors, and most shop owners who had closed their stores to watch.

Seeing them approach, Thomas stood up from the piano and shouted down arrogantly, "We were here first. We’ll perform first."

Director Fang quickly climbed up and took the microphone, announcing, "Before we begin, let me explain the rules. Both teams will perform collectively, and after each performance, the audience will vote with silk flowers. The judging panel will tally the votes. This competition is completely fair—I swear on my honor as a director."

Thomas waved impatiently, "Yeah, yeah, just get on with it!"

Just as Director Fang was about to announce the start, Wen Zhi suddenly stepped forward, took the microphone, and challenged the smirking Thomas, "Performing one after another is boring. How about a battle of the bands instead?"

After rehearsing late into the night, they had suddenly changed their strategy. A hastily assembled group couldn’t match the synergy of a long-standing team. Splitting into individual battles and then random combinations would give them a chance—as long as the relatively weaker Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru didn’t perform together.

Thomas frowned, "A battle of the bands?" He shrugged in confusion.

Wen Zhi threw their earlier mockery back at them, "What, scared? Are all Americans this chicken?"

Thomas’ temper flared, and he shouted, "You’re on! Let’s go!"

His teammates immediately stood up, yelling, "Come on! Whoever backs out is a coward!"

Both sides got ready.

The gong sounded.

The opposing timpani echoed grandly, while the violin soared elegantly and the cello resonated deep and rich.

When Thomas’ team finished, he provocatively blasted a few high notes toward them.

Wen Zhi raised an eyebrow. Dressed in a flowing silvery-white gown, her hair swept up, she placed her hands steadily on the guzheng. With three crisp, bright notes—like a phoenix’s call—she began. Then, the restrained, graceful tones of Lin Jiyao’s guqin wove in like a trickling stream, his fingers dancing across the strings as he sat motionless in his white robes. As the guzheng faded, Chen Yuyao’s lively flute notes soared, her voice steady in her butter-yellow dress behind Wen Zhi.

They completely crushed the opposing side's momentum.

Thomas’s face hardened as a dazzling piano melody burst forth, followed by the fiery, unrestrained notes of the oboe, interspersed with the soulful and enchanting tones of the saxophone, making hearts sway along.

Wen Zhi’s crew wasn’t about to be shown up. She pulled out an erhu from under the guzheng and sat beside Liu Yiru, both playing simultaneously. The two melodies twined together—moonlit, oceanic, like a siren’s call—bright, resonant, and refreshing to the soul. After a soothing passage, the music took a sharp turn, wrapping around the heart like threads of emotion, gut-wrenching, heart-shattering. Amidst this, the melancholic sound of a xiao rose, evoking deep sorrow.

The tourists below the stage were moved to tears.

The chat exploded with ‘Wuwuwu’ spams.

Whether from listening or frustration, Thomas’s crew had red-rimmed eyes. In the heat of the moment, they abandoned restraint, bringing out the harp, violins, cello, oboe, timpani, and piano.

A sweeping, intricate symphony—dazzling, ever-shifting—filled the entire Peach Blossom Stage, leaving Thomas’s solo piano act in the dust—fiery, wild, and downright spellbinding.

As the piece ended, Thomas panted: they’d thrown everything at this, surely they couldn't lose this time.

But they’d sorely underestimated the power of China’s traditional music and the skill of Wen Zhi and Chen Yuyao.

Wen Zhi, who had been sitting, rose smoothly, pipa in hand, her moon-white outer robe draped over her elbows, revealing a fiery red dance dress beneath.

She stood there glowing like a goddess.

Before anyone could marvel, the pipa began to play. At first, it was light and delicate, like spring rain, then rapidly intensified like pearls cascading onto jade. Her fingers flew across the strings—hooking, plucking, flicking—so fast they blurred. Her usual laziness vanished; she now exuded a cold, captivating allure.

A children’s chorus swelled, pure and piercing, refreshing the soul. As the voices faded, war drums thundered, Lin Jiyao's drumsticks striking with increasing force.

Chen Yuyao swiftly switched from the flute to the erhu, joining Liu Yiru in perfect harmony with the pipa.

Director Fang, pumped, wildly gestured to the crew backstage. Staff rushed over with a wire crane, and as mist rose from the stage, Thomas and his group panicked. Meanwhile, Wen Zhi slowly ascended, flying across the stage.

Peach petals swirled down as she hovered mid-air, her pipa held in reverse, her fingers accelerating like golden rays piercing through clouds, annihilating everyone present.

At this moment, Wen Zhi was heart-stoppingly gorgeous, hypnotic.

As she landed, the pipa's music ceased.

The stage and audience fell into absolute silence.

Viewers at home stopped breathing, afraid their screens might shatter the next second.

It was *next-level* awe-inspiring.

Was this the same lazy, easily tired and hungry Wen Zhi?

After a long pause, a loud crash echoed from the stage.

Everyone's hearts skipped a beat as they turned toward the sound.

At the edge of the Peach Blossom Stage, Thomas snatched a sax from his buddy and smashed it to the ground, shouting, "Fuck! How can this compare! Fuck Fuck Fuck!!!!"

After his outburst, he marched toward Wen Zhi. Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru immediately stepped in front of her, while Mu Mu, ignoring Chen Yuyao's attempts to hold him back, ran to stand by Wen Zhi's side. Director Fang hurried over, yelling, "Take the L like an adult!"

Just as everyone braced for a fight, Thomas suddenly dropped to his knees before them and shouted, "Dad!"

Everyone: "..."

Live stream viewers were stunned before exploding into hype never seen before.

"Hahahaha, that 'Dad' was music to my ears!"

"Hahahaha, the blonde kept his promise, though the scene was a bit scary."

"Ahhhh, the competition just now was amazing, especially Wen Zhi's final aerial reverse-pipa move. Ah—forget Thomas, even I want to kneel in awe."

"Hahahaha, Sister Zhi is my goddess! From now on, I'm a ride-or-die fan, no matter what."

"Lin Jiyao and Liu Yiru were incredible too—to pull this off with just one night's practice, without any mistakes. Chen Yuyao really surprised me; she knows so many instruments! And Wen Zhi, switching between guzheng, erhu, and pipa effortlessly. Though her pipa playing is god-tier, her mastery of other instruments is also at a virtuoso level."

"How on earth did she achieve this? Who cares about degrees at this point?"

After Thomas shouted, he waved to his companions. They shared a look of reluctance, pushing each other before finally stepping forward and collectively shouting, "Dad!"

Wen Zhi, Liu Yiru, Lin Jiyao, and Chen Yuyao all relaxed at once, their faces breaking into beaming smiles.

Mu Mu tilted his head and asked belatedly, "Mom, did we win?"

Wen Zhi nodded.

Mu Mu’s little face broke into a huge grin, while Sen Sen, Xiao Xiao, and Chen Yueliang immediately cheered.

"Yay, we won, we won!"

The audience broke into thunderous applause!

Once the applause died down, Thomas stepped forward and gave Lin Jiyao a thumbs-up. "Chinese instruments—amazing! Chinese people—amazing!"

Lin Jiyao maintained his cool demeanor. "Too kind."

Thomas cocked his head, his gaze shifting past him to land on Wen Zhi, flashing a bright eight-tooth smile. "Especially this beautiful lady. Seeing you is like gazing upon the springtime Seine, that shook my soul."

"May I ask, would you be my girlfriend?"

The tourists on-site gaped in shock, while livestream chat exploded with curses.

Lin Jiyao’s cool act almost slipped, his fists itching to put someone in a body bag.

Mu Mu, not understanding what "girlfriend" meant, tugged at Liu Yiru’s hand and asked, "Godmother, what's blondie talking about?"

Liu Yiru: "Oh, he wants to move in and replace your dad."

Mu Mu: Death glare activated.

Seeing Wen Zhi take too long to answer, Thomas eagerly repeated, "Would you be my girlfriend?"

Author's Note:

Mu Mu: I told you to call her 'Dad,' not try replacing my dad.

Thomas: My Chinese isn't perfect, whatever. [crowd cheers]