"I… I'll think about it some more."
Racking his brain, a few minutes later, Feng Yi finally hung his head and admitted defeat.
"Fanchen, amazing!"
Lu Qing made a victory gesture toward Huang Yifan and shouted excitedly.
"It's nothing special."
Huang Yifan didn't show much reaction. To him, Feng Yi was just a kid, not even remotely challenging.
"Mr. Huang, impressive, very impressive."
Seeing Feng Yi lose, Luo Ling felt a bit annoyed, but after a quick thought, he came up with another idea.
"I didn't expect you to be so well-versed in idioms, Mr. Huang. But idiom contests are rather low-level. There's a poetry competition up ahead. Would you be interested in joining?"
"Not interested."
This time, Huang Yifan genuinely wasn't.
First, he found these kinds of competitions boring.
Second, it felt like bullying kids. Even Luo Ling didn't seem particularly impressive to him, nowhere near the academic talents from Youth Daily. Winning against them wouldn't be satisfying.
Third, there was no real benefit for him anyway.
"Lu Qing, let's check out something else."
Without waiting for Luo Ling's response, Huang Yifan turned and left.
After wandering around the event for about half an hour, Huang Yifan still felt bored.
Although there were many activities, from calligraphy to poetry recitations, everything seemed lively on the surface, but the overall level felt mediocre to him. Take the earlier poetry reading, for example. It seemed they were reciting their own modern poems. But honestly, those poems… Huang Yifan listened for a bit and realized that aside from breaking long sentences into shorter lines, there wasn't much substance.
Noticing his boredom, Lu Qing quietly suggested, "Fanchen, how about we go check out the Music Association? I heard there will be some pretty good original songs today."
"Original songs? Sure, let's go take a look."
Recently, Huang Yifan had been dabbling in music and had written a few Cantonese songs for Liu Siyu. But Cantonese was still Cantonese. While it was part of Chinese, he was from the mainland, and he preferred Mandarin songs.
So he agreed and went with Lu Qing to the Music Association area.
The Music Association's activities were held farther away, probably to avoid interfering with the Writers Association events. After walking for a few minutes, they arrived. A large crowd had already gathered, seemingly waiting for a performance.
Huang Yifan and Lu Qing joined the crowd and watched.
At the center stood a middle-aged man in his forties, dressed in a neat suit and tie.
"Fanchen, this is Song Yang, a well-known musician in Xijiang Province. He's composed many patriotic songs like 'My Motherland, I Love You,' 'Oh Earth, My Mother,' and 'Song of Steel.' I wonder what he'll perform today."
"Mm."
Huang Yifan simply nodded without saying much.
"Thank you all for coming. Recently, I wrote a new song. It hasn't been released yet, so I'll perform it for you today at this event. It's called 'Hope of China.' Unlike my previous works, this song incorporates many elements of pop music. I hope it brings you a different experience, and I welcome your feedback."
The explosion of Hong Kong music had once stimulated mainland Mandarin music, but progress had been slow. Some forward-thinking musicians had begun abandoning traditional folk styles, incorporating pop elements in hopes of developing Mandarin music by learning from Hong Kong's success.
This Song Yang clearly had some ideas. Huang Yifan nodded as he watched.
"Fanchen, do you understand music too?"
"Just a little. But I'm worried that while these musicians are trying to innovate, they might overdo the integration of pop elements. In the end, not only will the innovation fail, but they might also lose the essence of Mandarin music."
"I don't quite get it."
"Just listen."
After a brief exchange, Song Yang began singing 'Hope of China.'
"My motherland, it's been so long since I last called your name…"
The opening followed a traditional mainland folk style: strong, clear, and full of energy. But this style had already shown its limitations. As people would say nowadays, it wasn't "pop" enough and didn't appeal to younger audiences.
So in the second line, as Song Yang had mentioned, pop elements were introduced. The tempo sped up, and the pitch dropped.
A few minutes later, the song ended, and the applause was sparse.
Clearly, the attempt at innovation had failed.
Afterward, Huang Yifan and Lu Qing visited several other Music Association venues. Many musicians were trying bold innovations. Some songs leaned heavily toward Hong Kong style, and a few even switched entirely to Cantonese, making things rather awkward.
"Sigh… how did Mandarin music end up in such a weak position?"
Huang Yifan sighed.
In his previous life, even when Hong Kong music dominated in the 90s, Mandarin music still held its ground and eventually surpassed it in the 21st century.
But in this world, Mandarin music was in a miserable state.
Lu Qing, however, didn't share his concerns. After spending the afternoon with him, she was still excited. On the way back, she suddenly asked, "Oh right, Fanchen, I almost forgot. That 'fragrant herbs and beauty' idiom you mentioned earlier… does it really come from 'Sacred Poetry'?"
"Hm? Why do you ask?"
"Well… because…"
She looked a bit embarrassed. "Because I've never heard of it either."
"Ah, Fanchen, don't ask how many poems I've read. I'll go study them properly when I get back."
"Heh, no need. It's not in there."
"Huh? It's not?"
"Nope. I made it up to fool them."
"Pfft… oh no, Fanchen, your image in my mind has collapsed again. But seriously, your ability to make things up is incredible. You even came up with a whole origin story. I almost believed it. 'Fragrant herbs and beauty'… hahaha, that's hilarious."
"Well, if I didn't make it convincing, how could I fool anyone?"
"Then what about what you said at the Music Association earlier? Was that made up too?"
"That wasn't made up. That was real."
"Fanchen… should I believe you or not?"
"Of course you should. I never lie. How about this, I'll sing you a song so you can judge for yourself."
"Really? Yes, yes, sing!"
"Let me think…"
What should he sing?
Not Hong Kong music.
Modern 21st-century mainland pop wouldn't fit the current audience either.
Considering that mainland music here seemed to be at the level of the 90s in his previous life…
He nodded and chose a representative song from that era.
"Listen carefully…"
Clearing his throat, Huang Yifan began to sing:
"The shy rose blooms quietly…"
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