Jiang Haichuan's eyes remained tightly closed, his face a mask of focused, enraptured concentration. It was as if the entire world had shrunk to just him, the erhu, and the melody of "Moon Reflected in the Second Spring," a piece brimming with boundless emotion.
The atmosphere in the living room instantly froze, everyone completely immersed in the poetic and picturesque music.
Mengmeng's furrowed brow slowly relaxed, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity and wonder.
Her small body swayed gently to the rhythm, as if carried by the melody into a mysterious world full of stories.
The smile had vanished from Jiang Haichuan's face, replaced by sheer astonishment.
His mouth hung slightly open, his eyes fixed on the erhu in Jiang Ning's hands. He couldn't believe this familiar son of his could produce such moving music.
A mix of emotions churned within him: awe at his son's hidden talent and guilt for having mocked him earlier.
Su Meng was also rendered speechless by the sudden, exquisite beauty of the music.
Her gaze softened as she looked at Jiang Ning, her eyes overflowing with admiration and love.
She never imagined that Jiang Ning could actually play the erhu, and play it so brilliantly—even better than her father-in-law.
At that moment, her earlier worries vanished, replaced by overwhelming pride. Her love for Jiang Ning deepened further.
As the melody progressed, the erhu's tone grew increasingly mournful, like a biting winter wind sweeping through a silent valley, stirring an inexplicable sadness in the hearts of the listeners.
Within the music, it seemed to carry the weight of hardship and helplessness, yet also the defiance and struggle against life itself.
Each note was like a sharp little knife, gently slicing through the listeners' hearts, leaving indelible marks.
In this weeping, lamenting music, time seemed to stand still.
The entire living room was immersed in a tranquil yet sorrowful atmosphere. Everyone listened silently, as if their souls were being deeply cleansed by the music.
Even Jiang Haichuan, Su Meng, and Mengmeng closed their eyes, drawn by the music into another realm of fantasy.
They felt as if they were in a mountain, with a clear spring flowing at their feet. They followed the winding, flowing melody, as if they were the spring water itself.
Even while busy in the kitchen, Ye Shulan had her eyes closed, listening intently to her son's Erhu melody. She too had entered a profound state of immersion.
Four minutes later, the Erhu music faded to silence.
Jiang Ning opened his eyes and saw Jiang Haichuan, Su Meng, and even Mengmeng still with their eyes closed, lost in the illusion.
Jiang Ning didn't disturb them, simply watching them quietly. Their reaction was entirely within his expectations.
A Grandmaster of the Way could enter a state of profound immersion, and in doing so, could draw others into that same state.
Of course, the key lay with the listeners. Only those who listened with their whole hearts would be drawn in.
Two minutes passed.
The four of them gradually opened their eyes, including Ye Shulan in the kitchen. She had assumed her husband, Jiang Haichuan, had been playing the Erhu.
She hurried out of the kitchen. "Honey..."
Before she could finish, she saw her son, Jiang Ning, sitting there with the Erhu in his hands, clearly the one who had been playing.
"Ning'er, was that you playing the Erhu just now?" Ye Shulan asked, puzzled.
Jiang Ning nodded vigorously, then glanced at Jiang Haichuan with a triumphant smirk. "Yep. Mom, do you think it was better than the one Dad played earlier?"
Jiang Haichuan's old face flushed crimson under Jiang Ningxi's teasing gaze. "Hmph, that was a good pull. After all, you grew up listening to me play the erhu. I was your first teacher."
"Grandpa, I've told you many times—Dad is omnipotent and knows everything, right?" Mengmeng chimed in, joining the flattery.
"Yes, Mengmeng is right. But when your father was your age, he also grew up listening to me play the erhu. Mengmeng, if your father plays so well now, shouldn't that be a testament to my teaching?" Jiang Haichuan shamelessly took credit for himself.
Mengmeng scratched the back of her head, thinking hard before reluctantly nodding. *Grandpa's argument makes some sense.* She had learned to draw by watching her father, piano from him, and English from him too. *It's only natural that when Dad was my age, he also learned from Grandpa.* "Hmm, Grandpa is also amazing. But now Dad is even more amazing."
"Hahaha, exactly! Like father, like son," Jiang Haichuan chuckled, stroking his sparse beard.
"Go on, go on—stop patting yourself on the back! My son's brilliance has nothing to do with his father," Ye Shulan interjected, unable to stand it any longer.
"Mom, Dad has a point," Su Meng said, seeing her father-in-law's embarrassment. "Jiang Ning plays so well, and it's partly because he was influenced by your Erhu playing."
"Hmm, my little Meng is so considerate," Jiang Haichuan said, his expression brightening.
"Dad, I'm just telling the truth," Su Meng replied.
"That's enough, Ning'er. Even if Little Meng is helping you, I'm not going to let you off the hook. You've been playing *Moon Reflected in the Second Spring* for decades, and you're still not as good as my Ning'er. Reflect on yourself.
Ning'er is so young, and he's been busy with school, work, and I've never even seen him practice the Erhu. Think about it—you've wasted decades on this instrument. How dare you try to take credit?" Ye Shulan shot Jiang Haichuan a glare.
Jiang Haichuan's face burned with shame. Her words had completely undermined his standing in front of the younger generation.
"Mom, don't say that," Jiang Ning said quickly, seeing his father's distress. "It's true that I often listened to Dad play the Erhu when I was young, and it did influence me.
How else could I have reached this level? My father deserves credit for this."
The group chatted for a while longer.
Time flew by.
***
"Dad, Mom, we're heading back now. Please take care of yourselves." Jiang Ning watched his parents see them off at the door, his heart heavy with reluctance.
"Grandpa, Grandma, Mengmeng will miss you very much. Please come visit us soon!" Mengmeng waved goodbye to Jiang Haichuan and Ye Shulan.
Su Meng turned to Jiang Haichuan and Ye Shulan and sincerely invited, "Dad, Mom, if you're free, why don't you come live with us?"
"We will, Ning'er. Be careful on your way. Xiaomeng, please give our regards to your parents. Mengmeng, Grandpa and Grandma will miss you terribly." Jiang Haichuan and Ye Shulan's eyes welled up with tears.
Time flies, and reunions are always too short. The lingering sadness of parting was like autumn leaves falling—beautiful yet tinged with chill, stirring a thousand emotions.
*Rumble...*
As Jiang Ning's car drove further away,
Ye Shulan, who had been holding back her tears, finally let them fall. "Haichuan, I love that child Mengmeng so much."
"Yes, Mengmeng is truly lovable," Jiang Haichuan said, his voice tinged with sadness. "It's just that she only stayed with us for one night—far too short."
"Dad, Mom, why aren't Grandpa and Grandma staying with us?" Mengmeng asked with innocent curiosity.
"Mengmeng, it's because we're rebuilding our old house. Grandpa and Grandma need to stay home to supervise the construction. Once it's finished, we'll have a beautiful new house to live in when we visit!" Jiang Ning explained.
"Oh, I see! So when the house is finished, Grandpa and Grandma will have time to come and play with me, right?" Mengmeng pressed.
"Yes, that's right," Jiang Ning replied, having no choice but to appease her for now.
*Ring-ring*
At that moment, Jiang Ning's phone rang.
When he picked it up, he saw it was Wu Lianqu, the head of Huayin Planning.
-----------------------
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