Courtyard House: Drunk and tipsy, the whole courtyard exposed at the start.

Zhang Dabiao thought for a moment, then flipped through the stack of papers on the table and pulled out the third one.

"Actually, there's another option, 'Prelude to Water Melody'," he handed it over. "It's by Su Shi, not many changes. Let's put it away for now, just in case the other two don't work out."

"It's a backup plan, in case the song isn't suitable or there's controversy, our team can change it temporarily."

[Better safe than sorry, you know? What if we crash during a performance?]

Director Zhou took it and glanced at it.

"When will the moon be clear and bright? I raise my cup to ask the heavens..."

He stared at the few lines of text; there were only a few repeated sentences, nothing changed. He looked at Zhang Dabiao, opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end just nodded.

"Seal it off."

Teacher Chen and Teacher Fang exchanged a glance but remained silent.

But what's in his eyes can't be hidden.

The student council members took the three envelopes, wrote the group number on the cover, and carefully put them into the cardboard box.

As he reached the door, Old Zhou suddenly stopped and turned back to look at Zhang Dabiao.

"Hey kid, how many songs did you prepare?"

Zhang Dabiao scratched his head, looking innocent: "Not many, just these three. The rules don't say we can't prepare more, it's better to be prepared."

"Classical poems are easy to adapt; a few more would be fine too."

Just kidding. In order to make it easier for children to learn, the Three Hundred Tang Poems were all turned into nursery rhymes long ago. What's so difficult about that?

Not to mention, if you bring me a book like "Primer of Prosody," they can turn it into a song for you.

In fact, especially ancient Yuefu poems and some lyrics, which originally had melodies, were simply lost over time.

Director Zhou choked for a moment.

The rules... didn't actually say you couldn't prepare too many.

This Da Biao is interesting.

He opened his mouth, then snorted and turned to leave.

Teacher Chen followed behind, and before leaving, she glanced back at Zhang Dabiao. Her gaze was, well, as if she were looking at something strange.

The door closed.

Han Xiaomeng let out a long sigh: "Comrade Zhang, did you see Director Zhou's expression just now? The way he looked at you was like you were a monster."

Tang Min laughed, "That's right, three songs! Others haven't even managed to come up with one, and you've already shelved all three."

Zhang Dabiao sat down on the stool and crossed his legs.

"This is nothing."

"We're just playing music, having fun!"

"Relax! Brother Biao, I'll take you guys flying!"

------------

When I stepped out of the building, it was already getting dark.

Director Zhou walked in front, with Teacher Chen and Counselor Liu following behind, all without saying a word.

At the fork in the road, Teacher Chen suddenly spoke up: "Old Zhou, that Zhang Dabiao..."

"Um?"

"I glanced at his poems," Teacher Chen said, carefully considering the verses. "How should I put it... they're quite interesting."

Counselor Liu nodded in agreement: "Especially that poem, 'Do You Know? Do You Know?' 'Do you know, do you know, it should be green leaves and red flowers'—Li Qingzhao's original poem is good, but the words she added afterward perfectly captured the sorrow and longing of a young woman confined to her chambers as she laments the passing of spring."

Old Zhou didn't speak, he just nodded.

After walking a few steps, he stopped again.

"Old Chen, do you think he really composed that piece himself?"

Teacher Chen was taken aback: "This...didn't he say he wrote it himself?"

"He studied fine arts."

Teacher Chen fell silent.

Teacher Fang thought for a moment and said, "Maybe it's talent? Some people are born to do this kind of thing; they can learn anything instantly."

Then compare it with other groups of students who simply copied the original text of the poem...

Director Zhou shook his head, then nodded, and finally sighed.

"No matter what, let's wait three days. Let's see what they're made of."

------------

At the school gate, a large crowd of people gathered.

The students walked out in twos and threes, some pushing bicycles, some walking, and some standing at the door waiting for someone.

Zhang Dabiao and Mu Wanqing walked out side by side, with Han Xiaomeng and Tang Min following behind.

As soon as they stepped outside, they bumped into Zhao Weiguo and his group.

Zhao Weiguo walked at the front, followed by Liu Yuanchao, Zhang Mingyuan, and several other members of their group. They all had smiles on their faces and seemed to be in good spirits.

"Hey, Zhang Dabiao!" Zhao Weiguo greeted him from afar, his voice quite loud. "You're out?"

Zhang Dabiao glanced at them sideways, unsure of what to say to these young people.

Zhao Weiguo leaned closer, lowering his voice but unable to hide his smugness: "I heard your group finished writing it? What did you write? Tell us!"

Mu Wanqing pursed her lips and remained silent.

Han Xiaomeng couldn't hold back any longer and took a step forward: "We wrote 'Do You Know?' and 'The Song of Changle'!"

Zhao Weiguo was stunned.

Then he laughed.

"The Story of Minglan?" He turned to look at Liu Yuanchao. "Do you know who wrote it?"

Liu Yuanchao thought for a moment: "Li Qingzhao, right? The one called 'Like a Dream'?"

"Yes, yes, that's it." Zhang Mingyuan interjected, "'Do you know, do you know, it should be green leaves and red flowers,' I remember that one, it's quite short."

The group exchanged glances and then laughed.

"No," Zhao Weiguo said, suppressing a laugh, "what can you possibly write with such short words? How many words are there? Thirty or so?"

"Exactly," Liu Yuanchao chimed in, "Our chosen 'Man Jiang Hong' has over ninety characters! Yours, tsk tsk, how many lines are even remotely worthy of mention?"

Han Xiaomeng's face turned bright red, and she was about to argue when Tang Min grabbed her arm.

"Alright," Tang Min said softly, "Stop talking."

Tang Min even felt sorry for these first-year students—when did they start judging the quality of a song by the number of words?

Are your brains filled with poop?

Han Xiaomeng reluctantly shut her mouth.

Zhao Weiguo and his group laughed even harder.

"Alright, alright, you guys are amazing! You're short but powerful!" Zhao Weiguo patted Zhang Dabiao on the shoulder. "Comrade Zhang, see you in three days! Let us see what kind of tricks you can pull off with just thirty characters in 'Do You Know? Do You Know?'!"

The group of people walked away laughing.

Han Xiaomeng watched their retreating figures, stomping her feet in anger.

"What gives them the right? They've never even heard of it, so what right do they have to laugh at us?"

Tang Min shook her head: "Don't bother with them. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss."

Han Xiaomeng was stunned.

Tang Min watched Zhao Weiguo and the others walk away and suddenly sighed softly.

"They don't know what kind of person they've messed with."

He turned to look at Zhang Dabiao, who was leaning against his bicycle with Mu Wanqing standing beside him. The two of them were talking about something, both with smiles on their faces.

The afterglow of the setting sun fell on him, gilding him with a faint golden hue.

Tang Min withdrew her gaze and looked again at the blurry figures of Zhao Weiguo and the others in the distance.

"Three days from now..." he murmured, "We'll see."

Ignorance can sometimes be a blessing.