Jack Young, Yang Shu, and a middle-aged man with a late-stage uncle vibe sat down on the sofa. After introductions, this late-stage uncle turned out to be Wei Donglin, the leader of Yang Shu’s orchestra. Yang Shu had been leaving early and coming home late lately because she was busy training and rehearsing with the orchestra. The reason? As explained, the orchestra is collaborating with a world-famous international group for a joint concert.
“That’s the top Vienna orchestra—world-renowned, with famous musicians and singers tagging along. For this concert, everyone in our group is training like mad. We absolutely can’t lose face in front of our international friends.” Uncle Wei finally calmed down, sipping his tea as he explained: “But lately, the pressure’s been insane. The team’s barely holding it together. I came to Little Yang’s house today to brainstorm solutions, and I run into a talent like you! Little Yang, why didn’t you tell the orchestra you had someone like this?”
Faced with her boss’s complaints, Yang Shu didn’t back down at all. Calm and unyielding, she said, “It’s just a clash of egos. Sure, it’s not meaningless, but he’s not a member of the orchestra, and he’s got his own stuff going on. Why drag him into this?”
“You’re not wrong, but right now... sigh...” Wei Donglin couldn’t help but smack his own head, looking utterly distressed.
Before the story moves forward, let’s quickly explain why Wei Donglin is convinced Jack Young is a pro. Chopin’s Etudes may sound like practice pieces, but they’re anything but simple—fast, flashy, and notoriously tough. One of the most famous is OP10-NO.4, nicknamed ‘Torrent.’ As the name suggests, it’s a lightning-fast piece, and if you can play it in front of your classmates, you’re guaranteed to get a chorus of screams. It’s a staple at piano exams every year, precisely because it shows off a player’s chops.
Playing piano isn’t just about hitting the right notes—especially with a piece this fast, that’s where real skill shows. And Jack Young just played it like a gamer speedrunning Ninja Gaiden on the hardest difficulty—without taking a hit! Even crazier, he was on the phone while playing. And the wildest part? He actually stopped mid-play to hang up the call!
That’s just scary—not only was his musicality, timing, and skill off the charts, but what he did is basically impossible. That’s what freaked Wei Donglin out, which is why he wants Jack Young as a ringer.
Normally, Jack Young is pretty chill. He immediately noticed something odd: “Mr. Wei, I’ve never played in an international orchestra, but I figure, no matter what’s going on behind the scenes, on the surface it’s all about communication and teamwork, right? So why is this turning into some kind of ‘challenge match’ circus?”
Wei Donglin nodded vigorously. “Exactly! We’ve worked with plenty of international orchestras before, and usually it’s just like that—everyone’s polite coming in, and happy leaving. But this time, it’s different. The new leader on their side—a bel canto singer—is super strict. Since they’ve got extra people, a lot of the mixed ensemble pieces are now a competition for spots. And now...” He looked downright embarrassed. “Except for our concertmaster, everyone else is pretty much getting kicked out.”
“Wow, they’re really coming in hot?” Jack Young glanced at Yang Shu, who nodded. The concertmaster is basically the orchestra’s second-in-command, super important. Plus, the violin’s known as the queen of instruments, so holding onto that spot is a big win. But if everyone but the concertmaster gets booted, yeah, that’s pretty humiliating.
“If things weren’t like this, I wouldn’t be begging for your help!” Wei Donglin said excitedly. “Kid, piano might not be a regular member of the symphony, but it’s the king of instruments—super high status. A master pianist is priceless in any orchestra. So, kid, help us out! Whether it works out or not, we just need those foreigners to know we’ve got real talent here!”
Letting the foreigners know China’s got top talent... feels straight out of a Bruce Lee movie. But honestly, when it comes to classical music, there’s a real gap between China and the international scene. Still, Jack Young doesn’t think that’s a big deal—China started late with classical music, and it’s a fancy import anyway. It’s like asking foreigners to speak Chinese: as long as they don’t butcher it, you’ve got to give them credit. If you expect them to say ‘black fertilizer volatilizes and turns gray’ without messing up, that’s just nonsense.
But after thinking it over for a moment, Jack Young nodded and agreed: “Alright, I’ll go.”
“Awesome!” Wei Donglin was so pumped he nearly jumped up. “Come on, no time to waste—let’s go now! I’ll go start the car!” With that, he dashed out, looking like he couldn’t wait another second.
Yang Shu, on the other hand, stayed calm and quietly told Jack Young, “Don’t feel pressured—it’s not your responsibility. And honestly, a little embarrassment isn’t all bad for the orchestra.” Her words were full of meaning. You’ve got to know shame to grow stronger; without a little humiliation, how do you improve? If there’s no external threat, you get internal drama. Without pressure, annoying problems pop up everywhere.
Jack Young just shook his head. “It’s fine, I’m not pressured. Piano and violin holding their ground is just a fig leaf anyway. If almost everyone’s been kicked out, that’s lesson enough. Besides—” He took a deep breath, then exhaled with a little tune, “I’m feeling down lately, so going to crush a few folks sounds pretty therapeutic.”
Crushing people is the best cure for anxiety.
Half an hour later, the three of them arrived at the orchestra’s concert hall. The spacious venue was dotted with small groups. In the audience, there were more Chinese than foreigners, and several folks clutching their instruments sat off to the side, looking totally embarrassed—these were the ones who’d been kicked out. On stage, an orchestra was rehearsing a symphony under the conductor’s baton. If you listened closely, it sounded like the accompaniment to Mozart’s opera, The Magic Flute.
This chapter isn’t finished yet~.~ Click next page to keep reading the good stuff!
The conductor was an old Chinese guy with wild, thinning hair—he looked like a giant dandelion, honestly hilarious. Right now, Dandelion was waving his baton and flailing his arms, sweating buckets like he was facing a monster.
“Queen of the Night aria?” Jack Young recognized the piece instantly. The Queen of the Night aria, also known as ‘Der Hölle Rache’ or ‘Vengeance of Hell,’ is a world-famous soprano showstopper—crazy hard. Whether a coloratura soprano is a boss or a flop, you find out as soon as she sings this. In less than three minutes, this aria separates the wannabes from the legends. But: “Where’s the soloist? How do you rehearse without a soloist?”
“The soloist for this part is their leader, the famous soprano Marso. But this isn’t a rehearsal—it’s... an audition.”
“An audition?” Jack Young nodded. “Yeah, some of the musicians aren’t up to snuff. That clarinet, the horn over there, and the second violin—they’re off. But it’s all about coordination, not something you can’t fix.”
Wei Donglin looked seriously awkward, since the ones Jack Young pointed out were mostly his own people. But it got even worse—his face turned bright red. “No, it’s not the musicians being auditioned... it’s the conductor.”
“The conductor?” Jack Young was genuinely shocked now. The conductor is the absolute core of an orchestra, and sometimes it’s hard to say who’s higher—the conductor or the leader. That dandelion guy, goofy as he looks, is top brass in the Chinese orchestra, and now he’s stuck in the weakling spot, getting ‘auditioned’?
Man, the other side is way too domineering—like a grown-up scolding a kid!
Just then, the piece ended. Dandelion turned to look at the second-floor balcony. His face showed hope, nerves, helplessness, and a dash of frustrated resignation.
“nicht.” A voice floated down from the second floor—not loud, but with an air of authority you couldn’t defy. Jack Young’s ears perked up and he looked up, spotting a woman in the front row of the balcony. She was about twenty-five or twenty-six, just as tall as Jill Young, with a seriously impressive figure that would make most supermodels jealous.
Her face was lean, her features sharp and striking. Her eyes—bright red, like flowing blood or burning fire—were so intense, most people would be crushed by the sheer pressure. She stared down at Dandelion, then spoke again: “schlecht.”
German? Thanks to translating German stuff for Dumb Night nonstop, Jack Young actually knew the two words she’d just said. The translation was brutally clear: No. Bad.
Jack Young raised an eyebrow. This woman was seriously intense.
There was a translator in the orchestra who wanted to say something, but the woman just waved her hand, clearly not interested in talking to underlings. A few foreigners on the first floor immediately got up and, along with the translator, went off to the side to talk. Dandelion followed, looking flustered. After a couple of sentences, his face turned red and he looked like he wanted to argue, but in the end, he just muttered quietly instead of making a scene.
Maybe it was to maintain some basic musician dignity.
Or maybe he just didn’t dare blow up in front of that woman.
“That’s their leader,” Wei Donglin said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Since she’s singing this piece, she wants to personally check every musician. Now even the conductor’s been axed. What a humiliation. Jack Young, hold on—I’ll set things up. You just go up and play a Chopin Etude, then you’re done, okay?”
“No need.” Jack Young cracked his knuckles, suddenly fired up as he strode onto the stage. “Just playing a piece isn’t enough. If I’m going to do it, I’ll make sure everyone’s completely convinced.” He’d been annoyed all day, but now he was suddenly excited. Jack Young stepped onto the stage and took the conductor’s spot.
Instantly, all eyes were on him.
The red-haired woman on the second floor fixed her gaze on Jack Young, suddenly sitting up straight. She snapped her fingers at the person next to her, who immediately got the message and left—off to do who knows what.
Ms. Marso, as she was called, studied Jack Young carefully, muttering in German, “This is the one who killed the test subject ‘Old Soldier’...”