Chapter 82: A Cultured Ruffian

Cheng Xiaoyu slowly walked back to the Shanghai Theatre Academy. Along the way, the faces of young people, still innocent and unacquainted with the world, and the worried expressions of their parents filled him with emotion.

Of course, university is not the only path, but to be able to attend a top-tier university means that the journey itself is adorned with the most beautiful scenery. It’s undeniable that the college entrance examination divides life into different paths. The score you achieve determines where you will go next, and that is something you can no longer change. Yet, the place you are about to arrive at will surely bring you unexpected surprises. You will meet people you wish you’d met sooner; you will encounter events that suddenly enlighten you about life; you will meet those you are meant to meet and accept what you cannot change.

After more than a decade of hard study, growing from a naïve child into a mature youth, you learn about language, mathematics, astronomy, and geography, gain knowledge of the world past and present; you meet different teachers and make different friends—these are all precious treasures in life. By taking the college entrance exam, you hand in an answer sheet to yourself; regardless of the outcome—whether you’re happy or regretful—there’s no turning back, for this is only the beginning. The tests that life has in store are far from over.

Five thousand years of Chinese ideology have shaped the belief that all pursuits are inferior to scholarly study. Otherwise, why would those nouveau riche in past lives, after making their fortunes, rush to pursue MBAs or spend lavishly to buy a diploma to add luster to their names?

Carrying these musings, Cheng Xiaoyu moved quietly forward. Once again, he found himself at a crossroads in life, ready to choose his own direction.

This time, he would hold his head high, cross the boundless sea, and reach the blooming shore on the other side.

With passionate anticipation, Cheng Xiaoyu arrived at the gates of the Shanghai Theatre Academy. Unfortunately, its entrance lacked the imposing grandeur of the Central Conservatory’s, half-hidden behind lush greenery, exuding the refined elegance of a southern courtyard. Perhaps this, too, reflected the cultural differences between north and south.

That morning, swept along by the crowded throng, Cheng Xiaoyu hadn’t had a chance to properly observe the campus. After a morning of exams, most people had already left, and the campus now felt spacious and tranquil.

The school boasted no particularly tall buildings, only small structures that combined Chinese and Western architectural styles, remnants from the Republic era. To highlight its distinctive cultural ambiance, the grounds were filled with venerable old trees, their foliage rich and verdant, while vibrant flowers and plants could be found everywhere.

Thinking that he would spend the next four years here, Cheng Xiaoyu felt a surge of excitement. The abundance of beautiful women at the Shanghai Theatre Academy and the Beijing Film Academy was legendary—no other university could suit his tastes as well.

Lost in these thoughts, Cheng Xiaoyu returned to Exam Room Six. Many candidates were already inside, memorizing their scores and notes. Cheng Xiaoyu casually picked a seat, closed his eyes, and began to rest. As he mentally reviewed the sheet music for the upcoming exam, a tap on his shoulder interrupted him.

Turning around, Cheng Xiaoyu saw Duanmu Linsha winking at him, holding two cups of Häagen-Dazs. Dressed in her school uniform, Duanmu Linsha looked so beautiful that Cheng Xiaoyu felt his heart stir. Even the innocence of her uniform couldn’t conceal her perfect figure, her shapely and alluring silhouette evident beneath the fabric, while her serene and lovely face added a touch of gentle charm. This heady mix of fatal allure was almost too much for Cheng Xiaoyu. He silently recited a Buddhist mantra to calm his stirred emotions.

With a smile, Duanmu Linsha placed a cup of ice cream in front of Cheng Xiaoyu and said, “Thank you for treating me to lunch.”

Cheng Xiaoyu grinned. “It’s my honor to treat a beautiful woman.”

Duanmu Linsha took the opportunity to sit beside him. “I don’t have your phone number yet! You’ll have to give it to me, so that I have the chance to return the favor.”

Cheng Xiaoyu picked up the ice cream. “I can give you my number, but just this meal is enough. I never let girls pay for my meals.”

Puzzled, Duanmu Linsha asked, “Why not?”

Cheng Xiaoyu took a bite of ice cream and said leisurely, “Because I’m simple-minded and have too much money.”

Duanmu Linsha burst out laughing, covering her mouth. Her delicate and playful demeanor instantly made the boys around them hold their breath.

Cheng Xiaoyu’s gaze, meanwhile, lingered briefly on the subtle movement beneath Duanmu Linsha’s white shirt, and he silently appreciated the sight, a knowing smile appearing on his lips.

Duanmu Linsha noticed Cheng Xiaoyu’s unabashedly appreciative gaze, but felt no aversion. In fact, his directness lacked the sneaky lewdness of others—it was open and honest. His frank admiration made her a little self-conscious; blushing, she lightly slapped his arm and said, “Don’t stare.”

Cheng Xiaoyu wasn’t embarrassed. He looked up, shifting his gaze to Duanmu Linsha’s rosy face, and said with a chuckle, “Admiring beauty is a noble art that benefits both mind and nation. Only a true gentleman like myself can elevate this elegant pursuit to its highest form. I never miss a chance to appreciate beauty, and I plan every such opportunity with care. You see, just now was simply an awkward stage in the process. In fact, my gaze is clear, appreciative, and refined. Patience is key to true elegance, but sadly, most people misunderstand me deeply.” After finishing, he wore an expression that seemed to say his admiration was perfectly natural, his demeanor calm, a hint of artistic flair in his confidence.

Duanmu Linsha was no match for this kind of forty-something cultural rogue. Her cheeks grew even redder, her heart raced, and a trace of sweet, unfamiliar feeling welled up inside her. Not knowing how to respond, she instinctively scooped up a spoonful of ice cream—then, almost unconsciously, fed it to Cheng Xiaoyu.

Catching on only after the fact, Cheng Xiaoyu simply ate it—after all, who would refuse being fed by a beautiful girl? He didn’t mind that it was, in a way, an indirect kiss; he took the bite without hesitation.

The onlookers were stunned by this scene, watching a gorgeous girl flirt openly with an unremarkable chubby guy in the classroom. Wails of envy broke out; everyone wondered why they weren’t the lucky one.

Only after feeding Cheng Xiaoyu a spoonful of ice cream did Duanmu Linsha realize what she had done. Embarrassed, she nearly dropped the cup. Forcing herself to stay calm, she screamed internally, “Duanmu Linsha, don’t act lovesick! Be graceful, be graceful.” She turned away, not daring to look at Cheng Xiaoyu, and nervously ate her ice cream, forgetting that she was using the same spoon he had just used.

Cheng Xiaoyu grinned to himself, keeping quiet, secretly amused by his good fortune.

Yet, all of this felt slightly surreal. Cheng Xiaoyu couldn’t quite grasp what someone as beautiful as Duanmu Linsha might see in him. It couldn’t be for money—students at Gezhisu Academy were all from wealthy or prominent families.

He really had no particular value, and his middle-aged mind couldn’t comprehend the subtle emotions of young girls. Just as he never understood those devoted fans who would go to extremes for their idols.

All of these scenes, however, were observed by He Mingzhe, who had quietly followed behind. He Mingzhe was seething with jealousy, wishing he could storm into the classroom and tear Cheng Xiaoyu apart. But clearly, that wasn’t a good idea. Face dark with anger, he sat in the back row of the multi-purpose music room, racking his brain for ways to bring Cheng Xiaoyu down.

At last, Heaven rewards the diligent. After much brooding, a flash of inspiration struck He Mingzhe—he suddenly remembered who Cheng Xiaoyu was! Wasn’t this the rich kid who caused a campus-wide stir last year by colliding with the new school beauty, Pei Yancheng? Instantly, a plan formed in He Mingzhe’s mind; he would teach this audacious, clueless fatso a lesson for daring to compete for his girl.

He Mingzhe slipped out of the classroom with a cold smile. He would make sure Cheng Xiaoyu learned what despair truly was.

The exams continued in the golden light of afternoon. Warm sunlight poured into the classroom, spilling over the pianos and the sweating young performers, infusing the air with the flavor of youth.

What does youth taste like? In Cheng Xiaoyu’s ears as he listened with closed eyes, it was the taste of mint: fresh, invigorating, and tinged with a sweet, tingling sensation.

He sniffed carefully and found that there really was a faint scent of mint in the air—it came from Duanmu Linsha, who sat beside him.

A candidate finished playing. Duanmu Linsha turned to Cheng Xiaoyu, reached out her hand, and motioned for a high five. “I’m up next—wish me luck, Brother Xiaoyu!”

Cheng Xiaoyu wasn’t sure what she meant by “again,” but that didn’t stop him from offering encouragement. He gave her a gentle high five, and Duanmu Linsha walked forward, brimming with confidence, to prepare for her turn. When the boy ahead of her finished, it would be her time to perform.

By now, there were only five or six people left in the room.

Cheng Xiaoyu’s mind followed along as each candidate played, mentally noting every flaw and misstep with precision. He didn’t realize that this ability was, in fact, a high-level talent, and so he remained unaware of just how extraordinary he already was.

Finally, Duanmu Linsha bowed to the examiners and sat gracefully before the black piano. In that tranquil moment, time seemed to freeze—like a page from a color comic, breathtakingly beautiful.

Her slender, ivory fingers, framed by wisps of black hair falling across her elegant, white neck; sunlight poured over her long lashes, highlighting her delicate, upturned nose, and her crimson lips stood out against her flawless face, creating a vision of national beauty. Like a proud white swan, she spread her wings to play.

Bach’s “The Well-Tempered Clavier” in sharp minor, BWV 849. This is one of the two most difficult five-voice fugues in the collection, a piece so advanced that only those with a decade of performance experience dare attempt it.

This five-voice fugue is built in triple counterpoint, resembling the grand, sacred structure of a cathedral. Leman described it as “the most sacred and sublime work music culture has produced.” Each voice enters and transforms, expressing “the aspirations of a great soul.”

But its difficulty is immense, and few can match the virtuosity Duanmu Linsha displayed.

Cheng Xiaoyu was genuinely impressed by her exceptional performance.

The improvement of piano technique depends on flexibility and independence of the fingers; for polyphonic works, this requirement is even more critical. The ability to control the dynamic contrast between voices, shape the melodic lines, handle the phrasing, and coordinate both hands—all these are essential.

Duanmu Linsha executed all of these flawlessly, especially considering she was performing one of the most challenging pieces in “The Well-Tempered Clavier.” Such a performance was all the more remarkable.

Still, in Cheng Xiaoyu’s view, it was not without its flaws. Piano performance, besides technical ability, requires the musician to hear clearly what they are playing—to bring out the distinct lines of each part as the piece unfolds.

Of course, Cheng Xiaoyu’s standards were a bit exacting. On the surface, one cannot easily discern what Bach intended to express in “The Well-Tempered Clavier,” but from the composer’s philosophical characteristics and unified imagery, we can glimpse the work’s richness.

Bach, shaped by a complex era and deeply influenced by religion, often used sacred themes to reflect the suffering of the people and to express sympathy, nostalgia, and praise for heroes.

His works also convey people’s yearning for light and hope; though they are not programmatic music, they include the unspoken language of the age, reflecting lives and society from another angle.

For instance, this sharp minor fugue, BWV 849, is laden with religious significance. The music must trace out philosophical contemplation and the solemn majesty of a choral hymn.

Of course, this was an exam, not a concert. Under such pressure, to perform a piece of such difficulty with completeness was no small feat—let alone being the first to play a five-voice fugue all exam.

When the piece ended, for the first time there was a smattering of applause in the classroom, though Cheng Xiaoyu cynically suspected most of it was for Duanmu Linsha’s ethereal beauty.

She then delivered two Chopin études equally well. Clearly, among the candidates in Exam Room Six, her standard was among the very highest.

In Cheng Xiaoyu’s assessment, Duanmu Linsha’s preliminary round was as good as secured.