CHAPTER 293: CHAPTER 290: THE KONGHOU MELODY THAT EMERGED OUT OF NOWHERE

In the music room of the Beijing Music Academy, an elegant elderly lady was sitting on a chair, holding a konghou and playing it.

She was playing a konghou melody titled "Butterfly Lovers," which the students had downloaded from an external website’s YT account. She was already very familiar with this piece as she had been listening to it throughout the past month, although it was the first time she knew its name.

That classical beauty with a hidden IP address on the external website played the konghou like celestial music, a rare joy for human ears.

With such skill, one could easily become a professor at a music academy.

The elderly lady was Cui Jun, a renowned konghou performer from Huaxia. She had traveled to America in her early years and only returned to China over the past decade to open classes for students and promote konghou techniques.

Recently, upon the recommendation of her peers, she listened to this konghou melody. Since then, she couldn’t forget it and quietly followed the "I Have a Home in the Tang Dynasty" account.

Although Ms. Cui had already transcribed the score of this video based on the footage, upon comparing it to the original piece released by the video owner today, she realized her transcription wasn’t entirely accurate.

This piece had such classical charm that it gave her the feeling of being unable to fully comprehend the younger generation.

After finishing the performance, Ms. Cui felt a sense of loss. She clearly understood that, in terms of this piece alone, her performance was slightly inferior compared to that of the young talent in the video.

What kind of family could produce a girl who plays the konghou so well?

The konghou circle is actually quite small; it’s essentially ancient music lost to Huaxia. Any prominent figure in the konghou circle, Ms. Cui knows them all.

Yet the individual on YT seemed to have appeared out of thin air, with no konghou performer acknowledging them as their disciple.

Indeed, the folk world conceals many hidden talents, and one couldn’t help but wonder which great family has descendants residing overseas.

Deep down, Ms. Cui intuitively felt that the other party must be from a noble family; ordinary households couldn’t nurture a girl with such temperament.

She actually sent a few private messages to their account, but unfortunately, they went unanswered. The other party seemed aloof, apparently uninterested in joining the konghou community.

This time, with the release of this konghou score, it caused quite a stir within the konghou community, to say the least.

It’s important to know that modern konghous were developed by later generations based on numerous murals, relief sculptures, poems, as well as fragments of Great Tang konghous preserved in temples in Nara, Japan; they are entirely modern products.

From instruments to scores, konghous have been completely lost to the river of history, unlike the ancient zithers and their famous scores from a thousand years ago that still exist.

Of the three types of konghou, one type is the vertical konghou, which was historically transmitted from the Western Regions to the Central Plains during the Han Dynasty, according to historical records.

All modern konghous are designed similar to the vertical konghou.

Today’s modern konghou music, played and heard, is all recreated and adapted by modern masters based on ancient texts, combining techniques from ancient zithers, guzhengs, pipa, and other instruments.

In the development history of konghou performances, Ms. Cui can be said to be the leading figure of the present, with most skills learned today derived from her research.

As for how the ancients played over two thousand years ago, modern people can only imagine by looking at murals and reliefs.

However, the videos on the "I Have a Home in the Tang Dynasty" account seem to come from a spontaneous konghou master, with unique techniques and music that sounds heavenly.

Ms. Cui even had the notion that what was played might actually be ancient music.

It’s quite possible that noble families took some treasures overseas. During those chaotic years, countless Huaxia treasures were lost; just take a look at the numerous Huaxia antiques in museums worldwide.

With this in mind, Ms. Cui called her assistant: "Xiao Hu, go leave a comment on that girl’s account, asking if this ’Butterfly Lovers’ konghou piece is an ancient transmission. Also, inquire if she’s interested in exchanging ideas at the Beijing Music Academy in Huaxia."

"Okay, Ms. Cui."

Lin Wanwan, who rarely paid attention to online comments, naturally didn’t know the stir her casually released konghou music had caused in the music world.

She was quite busy now, on one hand training New Luo Maids for the Great Tang Shop, preparing for the upscale women’s club she planned to create in the Great Tang later.

On the other hand, she had to register a company in the modern era, find office buildings, and buy office equipment.

Gu Jingyu was managing two stores in her original company; resigning wasn’t something that could happen immediately. The cross-border e-commerce in Yongcheng hadn’t developed yet, making operational talent extremely scarce.

Thus, Lin Wanwan had to handle these things herself. Indeed, there wasn’t anyone trustworthy enough in the modern era to help her with these tasks.

She had considered bringing over her cousin, but after having a meal with him, she decided to put it off for the time being.

Her cousin was doing well at SV, securely earning commissions thanks to having Lu Shouyue as a platinum client.

Lin Wanwan didn’t want to disrupt his life now; she’d recruit him after expanding her business and opening a physical store at Times Square.

So she had to complete the preliminary tasks herself. Fortunately, as long as she was willing to spend money, many agency companies could be found in the modern era.

Registering a company and applying for a business license was straightforward, and she had already taken care of it on the computer.

Finding an office was done through a real estate agent. After viewing several locations, Lin Wanwan finally chose an office in the Times Building, a 120-square-meter square area with floor-to-ceiling windows.

It originally had a finance room, a manager’s office, a public office area, a meeting room, and a photo studio separated inside.

The Times Building and Times Square both belonged to the Times Group, located merely a hundred meters apart in the central area, not far from both Gu Jingyu’s and Lin Wanwan’s homes.

Their new home was in that area, a hidden, old school district community in the new town, about a ten-minute electric scooter ride from Times Square.

Lin Wanwan’s villa was further away since it was near the university town, which would be considered the suburbs by city center residents. However, driving there was convenient, taking about twenty minutes on a good run.

From registering the company, obtaining the business license, to getting the corporate seals made at a police-registered shop—company seal, legal representative seal, financial seal, and invoice seal, it took only three days.

Once she had the seals and business license, Lin Wanwan went with the agent to sign the rental contract.

During the contract signing, she requested an attendee from Lawyer Tan’s office to accompany her. Although her company was small, she had sufficient capital, so legal advisors must be arranged in advance.

Lawyer Tan, a partner at the law firm, was pleasantly surprised to take on new business and found collaborating with Lin Wanwan to be satisfying.

As Lin Wanwan officially became one of his long-term clients, naturally, his attitude towards her had to change. He would keep things more confidential regarding Lin Wanwan’s matters.