Chapter 163: He Actually Dared to Confront!

Silent Song Yi sat quietly and intently on the stage, his ten fingers deftly playing the "Dance of Death."

What kind of piece was this?

A composition so challenging it bordered on the absurd...

Or rather, a piece that few could truly appreciate without a certain level of musical discernment.

If the live audience were mere casual listeners with only a superficial appreciation for music, they would likely only see a pianist flaunting flashy techniques on stage without grasping whether the performance itself was good or not.

Fortunately, most of the guests present today were professional classical musicians.

Yet this only added greater pressure on the performer. At this moment, the audience’s ears could easily distinguish whether the pianist was merely showing off or genuinely skilled.

The "Dance of Death" rarely appeared on ordinary concert programs.

And today, Song Yi was performing it at Lu Zhou’s apprenticeship banquet.

His ten fingers moved across the black and white keys like an octopus’s tentacles, leaving afterimages as they swept the entire keyboard almost playfully. But on closer listening, one could tell he was playing strictly according to the score.

What made the "Dance of Death" so difficult?

Its complexity lay in the myriad of advanced techniques required throughout the piece, such as—

Finger substitutions on the same note!

Rapid, irregular chords played consecutively!

Giant leaps spanning up to a 13th interval!

Swift octave melodies in the left hand!

Arpeggios stretching across ten degrees with both hands!

Superhuman sweeps across the entire keyboard in moments!

Opposite-direction octave jumps between both hands!

Double-hand glissandos spanning three octaves in an instant!

...

The combination of these skills within a single composition created a terrifying level of difficulty.

To perform such a piece well was no easy feat.

Even accomplished pianists often made mistakes during the opposite-direction octave jumps. Without sufficient skill, no one would dare choose to perform this piece in front of so many professional musicians.

On stage, Song Yi was utterly focused, his entire being seemingly mobilized.

Watching his fingering was astonishing—were these really human hands? The afterimages left the audience in awe.

Want to show off your skills? Practicing the "Dance of Death" would definitely let you shine—if you can manage it. Most who attempt it want to sever their own disobedient hands.

Even if you can play it smoothly, can you convey the emotions the piece demands beyond mere technical display?

If you can blend dazzling technique with heartfelt expression, you are no ordinary person.

Song Yi was exactly such a man.

He was currently the best pianist in the country at interpreting the "Dance of Death."

After the solo ended, sweat appeared on Song Yi’s brow. A satisfied smile curved at the corner of his mouth as he slowly withdrew his hands.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience. Many rose to their feet, exclaiming their admiration.

This was the pinnacle moment for musicians—to meet a kindred spirit, to exchange skills, to share a synchronized aesthetic.

Song Yi had progressed. Today’s performance of the "Dance of Death" conveyed unprecedented fury—solemn, steady, and powerful—symbolizing the footsteps of Death itself, as if foretelling something ominous.

The crowd gasped in awe—so fierce! So perfect! So unparalleled!

The atmosphere was pushed to an edge with no retreat.

Qin Yi hadn’t expected his two senior disciples to display such brilliance at the apprenticeship banquet today—it was like they were shining right on his face.

He smiled broadly, deeply gratified.

But at the same time, he worried about another matter.

That was… Lu Zhou.

Anyone with eyes could see that the two elder brothers’ high-profile displays today would inevitably force Lu Zhou to perform on stage as well.

With his senior brothers setting such a high bar, leaving no room for retreat, if Lu Zhou’s performance could not surpass theirs, it would be a humiliating slap to his face.

Today was supposed to be Lu Zhou’s day, but the spotlight had been stolen by his senior brothers—it was hardly auspicious.

Qin Yi glanced at Wang Yanhua and Song Yi, sighed softly.

As the old saying goes, “scholars disparage each other,” and sometimes that applies to artists too. But he did not want such discord in his own school.

As the applause continued, Qin Yi stood, raised his glass, ready to say something to salvage the situation.

But before he could utter a word, Song Yi looked toward Lu Zhou and spoke.

“Junior brother, today is such a joyous occasion. Why don’t you come up and give it a go? After all, we’ve never truly seen your piano style. Why not take this great opportunity to let us all feast our eyes?”

Qin Yi: “...” Too late.

With those words, Lu Zhou instantly became the focal point of every guest’s gaze.

Almost everyone watched with a spectator’s curiosity, speculating on Lu Zhou’s state of mind.

None of the guests were fools.

What Wang Yanhua and Song Yi had done today was clearly to assert dominance within the school over Lu Zhou.

It carried an implicit message: “With your unimpressive skills, you bring shame to our school. Be sensible, and step aside.”

The challenge was laid down; now it was up to the new junior brother to respond.

Would Lu Zhou accept the challenge?

Or… did he dare?

The banquet hall fell silent.

Everyone awaited Lu Zhou’s reply.

Ye Fangfei quietly watched the much-anticipated Lu Zhou at the main table, lightly pressing her lips together, feeling a pang of sympathy.

Ah, this was a bit too much.

Today was an apprenticeship banquet; Wang Yanhua and Song Yi had gone too far.

Lu Zhou must be feeling tortured inside.

If he chose to go on stage, his skills would most likely be overshadowed by his two senior brothers.

But if he refused, he might forever be labeled as “lacking the courage to compete” within the circle.

Ye Fangfei gripped her chopsticks tightly, her mind racing to find a way to help him out. She was about to speak when Lu Zhou suddenly interrupted with his voice.

“Alright.”

A brief, resolute response echoed through the banquet hall.

Those present were shocked—so brave!

No wonder he was Qin Yi’s disciple. Skill aside, that courage alone deserved praise.

Amidst their surprise, the crowd’s anticipation for Lu Zhou’s performance grew.

What piece would he play?

Wang Yanhua had played “The Bell,” Song Yi had performed the “Dance of Death”—what would Lu Zhou choose to prove his own level?

This was the question on everyone’s minds, the point they awaited most eagerly.

Under all eyes, Lu Zhou steadily walked onto the small stage in the banquet hall.

Qin Yi watched his figure, frowning slightly with nervousness and concern, as if he himself were about to perform.

At this moment, sitting beside Ye Fangfei, always entertained by this unfolding drama, Gao Ting’an swirled his teacup and asked with interest,

“What do you think? Will he lose or win?”