Chapter 46: "Blue and White Porcelain"—Timeless Elegance of Chinese Style

Is it just singing the theme song? What Xi Yuanyuan wanted was far more than that. If possible, she even hoped to have Chen Fang try his hand in the film and television industry.

However, she wouldn’t voice her thoughts now. She would wait until she’d asked for Chen Fang’s opinion before making any plans.

“Let’s listen to the song first.”

Hugging a pillow in her arms, Xi Yuanyuan looked expectant. The inspiration for “Blue and White Porcelain” had come from a cup of tea she’d poured for Chen Fang, so in a way, she could claim some credit for this song.

With that thought, her anticipation grew.

Xi Dong and Liu Ke also focused their attention on the television screen.

The next second, the sound of a guzheng filled the room.

Dressed in a white robe, his fingers danced lightly across the strings. To most, the guzheng was a rather obscure instrument, but in Chen Fang’s hands, it was played with such proficiency that it seemed as if he’d practiced from childhood—effortless and natural.

“How many instruments does he know?” Xi Yuanyuan was somewhat astonished.

The morin khuur in “Anhe Bridge,” the guitar in “Fragrant Rice,” the piano in “Love Confession Balloon,” and now the guzheng in “Blue and White Porcelain”—most people would be impressive mastering just one instrument, but Chen Fang had mastered several.

And even more, in the song “As You Wish” for An Tinghan, there was a dizi accompaniment.

That part, too, was recorded by Chen Fang and sent to Tong Qin’s email.

He was truly all-rounded.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through Xi Yuanyuan’s mind—perhaps they could craft an image for Chen Fang as a versatile artist, someone who could attract both idol fans with his looks and win over die-hard admirers with his musical and vocal talents.

Ability was primary; looks were secondary. Although Chen Fang was handsome, to go far, he would have to rely on his talent.

“I’ll have to research the image of a versatile artist,” Xi Yuanyuan resolved inwardly—this was the path she wanted Chen Fang to take.

On the television, the gentle notes of the guzheng intertwined with the long, lingering tones of the xiao.

Just the prelude alone immersed everyone in an atmosphere thick with ancient elegance and history. The ink wash painting on the stage’s giant screen only intensified the mood.

Comparing the performances of the previous contestants to Chen Fang’s, the difference was stark.

The earlier contestants had been too straightforward. Their foundation was solid, but they treated the audition as nothing more than a singing competition, never considering how props could win them extra favor.

But Chen Fang was clever. He’d put thought not only into his attire but also made use of the stage’s giant screen.

None of the other contestants had thought of that.

“This kid is sly,” someone remarked.

“How did he think to use the stage screen?”

“It’s going to be harder for the contestants who come after him.”

“The ones before were lucky—their scores are set and can’t be changed. But for those after Chen Fang, their stage presence will inevitably be compared to him, and their scores will likely be lower.”

The reference point had changed. Before Chen Fang appeared, each contestant was compared to the previous singer. After Chen Fang, everyone would be compared to him.

In short, those performing after him were in for a tough time.

The four judges watched with admiration in their eyes. They’d heard the two original songs Chen Fang performed in the earlier rounds, both of such high quality that his name stuck with them.

This young man never failed to surprise.

The venue was silent except for the swaying sea of lights.

Even the barrage of online comments had quieted; more people chose to listen intently. After all, typing would distract from the music.

◤A plain porcelain outline, ink blue strokes fading from deep to light;
Peonies painted on the vase resemble your first delicate makeup;
Lingering sandalwood drifts through the window, your secrets clear to me;
A half-written poem rests upon rice paper.◢

Patterns traced on the vase’s body.

Sandalwood drifting through paper windows.

Ink spreading on rice paper.

Just four simple lines conjured three vivid scenes of life before everyone’s eyes.

The scholarly aura was overwhelming.

This wasn’t merely about blue and white porcelain—it was a harmonious blend of ancient ceramics’ cultural heritage, the longing between lovers, and the relentless spirit of a scholar, woven together seamlessly and without awkwardness.

Everyone was stunned.

Wait a minute! Wasn’t it said that Chen Fang had never attended college? These lyrics didn’t sound like something an uneducated person could write—even a linguistics professor might struggle.

In a rented apartment, Pang Tong hadn’t gone to the venue but was curled up at home, watching the live broadcast. When he heard the lyrics to “Blue and White Porcelain,” he was dumbfounded.

They were all orphans—why was Chen Fang’s approach so different from his?

Once again, Chen Fang managed to impress him!

Even Pang Tong, who admitted he wasn’t very cultured, could appreciate the charm in those lyrics—let alone those with higher education.

“My brother is incredible,” he sighed. “Too bad I didn’t go to the venue, otherwise I could’ve recorded a video.”

He was a bit regretful.

In fact, he had wanted to be there in person. But Chen Fang had told him to just watch from home; as for video footage, someone would record it and send it to him afterward.

Chen Fang had his reasons—partly because Pang Tong had been dieting too aggressively and wasn’t in the best health, so he shouldn’t be moving around too much. The other reason was that, after the show, Chen Fang would have dinner with Ji Mei and perhaps explore the origins of life at the villa. If Pang Tong came, Chen Fang would have to find a way to send him home alone.

Brothers, after all! Chen Fang wouldn’t let Pang Tong feel neglected. It definitely wasn’t a case of putting romance before friendship!

“It’s beautiful,” Pang Tong murmured. “I never knew traditional-style songs could sound this good.”

He’d listened to plenty of songs, but in his mind, traditional songs never sounded as captivating as what Chen Fang was singing now.

And he wasn’t alone—nearly everyone felt the same.

This “Blue and White Porcelain”… was almost unfairly good.

In Huaguo’s music library, there were only a few dozen traditional-style songs, and most followed a similar formula—accompanied by drums and chimes to evoke a sense of historical weight.

But “Blue and White Porcelain” wasn’t heavy or oppressive.

On the contrary, it was light and free.

So traditional songs could be performed like this?

As it turned out, tradition didn’t have to be somber and heavy. It could express the youthful ambition of a scholar, or the subtle sorrow of parting.

◤Glaze fades into a portrait, the lady’s charm secretly kept;
Your gentle smile is like a budding flower yet to bloom;
A wisp of your beauty drifts afar,
To a place I cannot reach.◢

At first glance, it seemed to return to the old theme of romance.

But unlike the bold declarations of typical love songs, these lines were restrained, leaving much room for reflection.

Meanwhile, the stage’s giant screen changed—from ink wash painting to the image of a woman in ancient costume.

She wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but every smile and gesture tugged at the audience’s heartstrings. Especially with Chen Fang’s guzheng playing on, each note seemed to make the woman sway in time.

Backstage, many staff members were puzzled.

Why did the woman in ancient garb on the screen look so familiar?

“Isn’t that Sister Ji?”

The remark was a wake-up call.

Of course! The woman on the screen bore an uncanny resemblance to Ji Mei.