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

Although the lyrics are a bit awkward, this is the best that Zhang Dabiao and Mu Wanqing could do. Besides, the rhyming of lyrics in this era... to be honest, no one really cares about that.

After all, a single bet still counts as a bet, right?

"As for the instrumentation," Zhang Dabiao thought for a moment and suggested, "we could use the harmonica and accordion for the main theme. These two instruments have a contemporary feel and a touch of folk music. Or, for the opening and interlude, I could add a whistling section, accompanied by guitar. What do you think, Wanqing?"

Mu Wanqing's eyes brightened: "Whistling with a guitar? That's a fantastic idea! Whistling is casual and free-spirited, while guitar chords are warm and gentle, perfectly capturing the feeling of walking against the wind on the edge of a field!"

The two hit it off.

Let's give it a try!

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

The song wasn't even fully polished yet, but rumors started circulating at school again.

Mu Wanqing and Zhang Dabiao's collaboration on "The Song of Changle" brought them instant fame, which already attracted a lot of jealousy. Now that the two are spending all their time together "creating," some people see this as irrefutable evidence of them neglecting their duties.

You, a student from an art vocational school, keep running to our university's music performance department. The key point is that the music you create is not only good but also wins. One time could be considered a coincidence, but you come here every day and create music—it makes us look incompetent!

This is a direct slap in the face!

It's like someone pooping on your neck!

I wiped away the dry stool you, Zhang Dabiao, and I wiped away the diarrhea you had...

But you're riding on someone's neck and causing dysentery!

This is unacceptable!

So Zhao Weidong's idea is to pull the top students from the senior grades down from the field!

In the practice room of the art academy, Zhao Weiguo was chatting "unintentionally" with several classmates.

"Have you heard? Mu Wanqing is hooking up with her art school student fiancé again, and they say she's writing some new song. It was Director Zhou who approached Mu Wanqing and arranged for her to co-write it with Zhang Dabiao." Zhao Weiguo's tone was sour and full of disdain.

"What does a vocational art school student know about music composition? I think that song 'Chilige' was just a lucky guess! As for 'Do You Know', humph, it's all about love and romance, decadent music, it's not presentable at all!" another boy chimed in.

Zhao Weiguo nodded, feigning profundity as he analyzed, "This call for submissions is no small matter; it's for selecting teaching materials for the nation. What we need is momentum! Strength! A reflection of the great achievements of our nation's development! And she, on the other hand, spends all her time getting involved in trivial matters with some outsider. I think she's treating this call for submissions like a joke!"

These words were spoken with good intentions, and the listener took them to heart.

In the corner, a tall, square-faced young man was silently wiping his violin. His name was Gao Feng, a talented second-year student majoring in music performance. His father was a leader in the cultural sector. Gao Feng was upright and had a solid professional foundation, but his thinking was relatively traditional and conservative. He also lived in the same compound as Zhao Weiguo.

He already disapproved of Mu Wanqing's style of becoming famous through "unorthodox" methods, feeling that her music lacked "grand narrative" and "spirit of the times".

Upon hearing Zhao Weiguo's comments, his hand, which was wiping the bow, paused slightly.

"Weiguo, don't talk about your classmates behind their backs." Gao Feng stood up, his voice not loud, but it carried an air of authority. "Artistic creation is a diverse field. But in the end, it's the work itself that matters."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on the red flag fluttering outside the window. His tone was firm: "The departmental performance on New Year's Day will also be the preliminary selection for this call for submissions. I will use my work to show everyone what truly represents the voice of our time. I hope my violin solo, 'Ode to the Steel Torrent,' can have a fair and square exchange with Mu Wanqing's new work on stage."

After saying that, he picked up the violin case, held his head high, and walked out of the music room.

Zhao Weiguo and the others looked at each other, then revealed gloating smiles.

Gao Feng is about to make his move!

This is going to be interesting! One is a well-trained and politically correct "regular army," while the other is an unconventional and controversial "guerrilla force."

The clash between "Ode to the Steel Torrent" and an unknown folk tune is simply a case of dimensional reduction!

Zhao Weiguo and the others have already lost, that doesn't matter.

The important thing is that you, Mu Wanqing and Zhang Dabiao, can't keep winning! Especially you, Zhang Dabiao—

You're an artist!

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

Inside the courtyard, the north wind whipped up snowflakes, stinging people's faces.

Yi Zhonghai's "winter reserve team" plan was completely ruined by Xu Damao's sarcastic remark that they were "eating tree bark." He sat alone in the cold room, holding his enamel mug, drinking lukewarm water, but his heart felt like it was on fire.

He couldn't figure it out.

He meant well and was doing it for everyone's good, so why doesn't anyone appreciate it?

Back in the day, if Yi Zhonghai said something in the courtyard, who would dare disobey him? Now, even someone like Xu Damao dares to give him attitude in public.

Prestige! Ultimately, it's because prestige has been lost!

He put down his teacup, crossed his hands, and his knuckles turned slightly white from the force. He realized that to regain his lost authority, he could no longer resort to this kind of "gentle persuasion" approach. That kind of thing wouldn't work in a world where people's hearts were already broken.

We must establish our authority!

He must find a target that can both demonstrate his moral high ground of "thinking of his neighbors" and allow everyone to see his methods and determination.

Who's the pushover in this courtyard? The Jia family.

Who's the troublemaker in the courtyard? Silly Zhu.

And these two can be connected by a single thread.

A barely perceptible smile slowly curved the corners of Yi Zhonghai's lips. He stood up, put on his cotton-padded coat, and pushed open the door to walk into the central courtyard.

Sha Zhu's family.

He Yuzhu was standing around the stove, warming his hands while staring blankly at the stewed cabbage and tofu in the pot. Ever since Yi Zhonghai helped him matchmake Qin Huairu, which almost caused Qin Huairu to miscarry, he hadn't dared to move around much. He felt that whatever he did was inappropriate, afraid that something might go wrong.

Furthermore, Jia Zhangshi's exorbitant demand for a bride price of 5000 yuan caused Sha Zhu to waver at one point.

Is it worth it for me to spend 5000 yuan to marry Qin Huairu?

The most crucial issue is that even when I take on outside jobs, I only charge two yuan per table. This is the rule set by my master. Before I reach a higher level, I dare not raise prices arbitrarily, for fear of breaking the rules.

So, when will I be able to save up 5000 yuan?

Am I capable of marrying him?

Sha Zhu was genuinely wavering and was starting to consider giving up.

According to Zhang Dabiao, it wouldn't cost me more than a few dozen yuan to marry a virgin, or else...

Just then, the door was pushed open, and a cold draft rushed in.

Upon seeing you—Yi Zhonghai?

Sha Zhu rolled his eyes. [Is this how you walk through the city gate? Is knocking on a door going to kill you or something?]

Yi Zhonghai walked in, bringing with him a chill, and brushed the snowflakes off his clothes. "Zhu Zi, are you all alone?"

What else? I also want someone to keep me company, don't I?

Sha Zhu brought a stool over to Yi Zhonghai. "Grandpa, please have a seat. Would you like some water?"

"I'm not drinking anymore." Yi Zhonghai sat down, looked at the pot of bland cabbage soup on the stove, and sighed. "Zhu Zi, look at you, living alone, this is how you make do. The weather is getting colder and colder, and there's not even anyone who cares about your well-being."

Sha Zhu scratched his head, chuckled foolishly, and didn't reply.

Yi Zhonghai changed the subject: "I came here today to talk to you about Qin Huairu's family."

Upon hearing the name "Qin Huairu," Sha Zhu's ears immediately perked up.

"What happened to Sister Qin's family again?"

[Has Jia Zhangshi been quite well-behaved lately?]