Chapter 71: Seventy-First Day of Lying Flat Like a Salted Fish

The moment he discovered that content, Siming quickly registered an account on the Gehui platform and logged in.

To avoid Ying Xun sensing anything unusual, Siming hadn’t even dared to visit the Gehui platform before now.

Listening to music wasn’t strange in itself, but if he suddenly rushed to a major platform and purposefully searched for an obscure, newly registered band and a few just-released songs, it would be hard not to suspect he had a connection to them.

Now, however, he had learned about the song through other channels. Looking it up now wouldn’t raise any red flags.

Even so, to be safe, Siming remained patient. He followed the order Nan Mu had recommended, checking the first few songs on the list before finally clicking on the song titled “Gong Liang.”

The Gehui platform’s interface was very clean.

Nowadays, people could choose between two browsing modes for the vast majority of online platforms: holographic and non-holographic.

In non-holographic mode, the website’s organization was traditional, consisting of various pages linked together, allowing one to navigate between them.

When Lu Yuan used his tablet to log onto the StarNet, this was the mode he usually chose – in fact, it was the only mode he could choose.

The holographic mode was more complex, with designs varying from platform to platform.

For instance, the holographic mode of the most famous blogging platform featured streets and buildings. By walking into a house, you could view the corresponding blogger’s journals.

Another example was the entertainment site “Star-Chaser.” Upon entering, you would find yourself transformed into a star, looking up at a vast, shimmering night sky. You could find the star you liked and approach it; your following would grant that star a higher “popularity value.”

As for the Gehui platform’s holographic mode, logging in placed the user inside a building with a soaring dome.

The dome was designed with great artistic flair; legend had it that when Gehui was first established, they commissioned a famous architect of the time to design it.

The walls surrounding the room were lined with shelves, neatly packed with records. The shelves were very high, so ladders were provided to help people reach the upper levels.

There were two ways for people to find the music they were interested in.

The first was voice control. When you spoke the name of a song, a singer, a year, or other keywords, all relevant records would float off the shelves and fly toward you. The more keywords provided, the more precise the search.

The second way was to search manually. People could walk freely through the domed hall and browse the records themselves.

The records were arranged according to certain rules, which could be adjusted based on preference. Sorting by the first letter of the song title or by release date were both options. You could even set it to a random shuffle mode and pick a song at your side to see if it suited your taste.

Once you found the desired record and opened the case, a translucent comment page would float out, making it easy to see what others thought of the song. You could also leave your own review via voice or writing.

To listen, you simply had to place the record from the case onto the record player in the center of the hall. The player would then automatically play the music in sequence.

The room was furnished with various seating options like sofas and bamboo chairs, and snacks, coffee machines, and tea sets were available. One could adjust the temperature, airflow, and even the scent of the room to enjoy a leisurely musical interlude. Alternatively, one could choose different environments for listening; the platform offered outdoor scenes like forests and lakesides, as well as indoor settings like bars and coffee shops.

Furthermore, beyond listening directly, one could choose “Concert Mode.” This placed you inside the music video’s setting – if it was a holographic-compatible MV – or at the scene of a concert featuring that song.

This was the greatest convenience of the holographic mode.

You could choose any setting you liked for your listening experience. Once you entered the holographic space, it became a pure musical realm, unaffected by the external environment of reality.

However, Siming had no need for these complex features at the moment. He stuck to the non-holographic page mode.

He hadn’t come here to listen to music; he was more anxious to see the public’s reaction to the song.

Geshu Qing had also learned of the matter. While Siming was quickly flipping through the other songs, Geshu Qing had already found his way to Siming’s side to watch with him.

Zhu Rong, on the other hand, likely wouldn’t find out about this for a while yet.

She had been completely obsessed with the game lately, spending vast amounts of time in it every day. She was currently in-game, unable to see any of the messages online.

Siming clicked into the comments section. As expected, the number of comments had exploded in a very short time.

However…

Unsurprisingly, the vast majority of the feedback could hardly be called positive.

• ???? That’s it? –

• Uh, was this composed by a primary schooler? Is Nan Mu serious about recommending this? –

• I can’t believe a song like this is listed alongside my Mingming’s music… –

• Even so, let’s not start trouble in someone else’s comments section. Taking Mingming home now. –

• This is hilarious. The song title and the author’s name are actually the same. Did he just use his own name for the track? What’s he going to do later? Is he not planning on releasing any other songs? –

Geshu Qing grimaced.

By this point, Siming had calmed down.

“It’s normal,” he said. “Er Ya and the others have only been studying music for a little over six months. The timeframe is just too short. No matter how much talent they have, it’s impossible for them to write something truly breathtaking yet.

“On the contrary, the other songs Nan Mu recommended are all classics. Putting Gong Liang’s composition next to those does make it look a bit crude.”

“Is it a backhanded compliment? Trying to kill them with praise?” Geshu Qing asked instinctively.

“No… how could it be?” Siming laughed in spite of himself. “He’s an Imperial Prince. Why would he have a grudge against Er Ya and the rest?

“Besides, this is a good thing. Er Ya and the others can’t see these comments anyway – Lu Yuan would never let them see this, so they won’t be negatively affected. On the other hand, even though we weren’t ready, the heat and discussion Nan Mu brought are good things no matter what.

“Having people notice ‘Desolation’ is a win. You know how talented Er Ya and the others are. As they grow at lightning speed, the reviews will turn around.

“And even now, it’s not like there’s no praise at all.”

His finger, which had been scrolling down the page, paused on a specific comment.

• Am I the only one who thinks it sounds pretty good? What instrument is this? The timbre feels very unique and pleasant. –

“…They’re just benefiting from the instrument,” Geshu Qing sighed. “The xun is too rare. Lu Yuan spent ages digging through records just to find information on it for them. Most people have definitely never heard of it.”

“Not necessarily.” Siming reached out and pulled up the replies to that comment.

The content here was a bit more normal. At first, a few people had replied with things like “Yes, it really is just you,” but soon enough, a discussion had broken out, and the atmosphere became much more relaxed.

• I don’t know… this instrument really is quite special. How should I put it? Even though space is silent, when I hear this sound, I really do think of the universe. –

• Actually, I think this piece is okay. It’s a bit green, a bit simple, but it’s not unpleasant to the ear. The melody is harmonious. Paired with this instrument, while it’s not exactly stunning, it’s not annoying either. I don’t know why everyone is attacking it so fiercely. It took me forever to find a normal comment like this. –

• Some celebrity fans probably showed up. They likely started talking nonsense before even listening to the song. Ignore them. Let’s just listen in peace. –

• To be honest, I’ve already started looping this one lol. It sounds great, very peaceful. The sound of this instrument really opens up your mood! –

• But this instrument is so rare that even the Optical Computer’s AI can’t identify what it is. Could it be a custom-made instrument? –

• Speaking of which, this instrument seems to be a xun. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. I had the honor of visiting an ancient instrument museum once and saw an instrument called a xun there. The texture of the sound is very similar to this. –

• Holy crap, that’s impressive. I looked it up, and it really should be. –

• This instrument is so obscure. There are only two audio records of it currently available, and one of them is this very track… –

• Looking at it this way, this author is actually kind of impressive… No wonder Nan Mu recommended it. I’m starting to get it now. How did he learn such an obscure instrument? Did he figure it out himself? –

• If I remember correctly, didn’t Xiao Lu work on ancient music restoration during her doctorate? Maybe it’s a friend or student of Xiao Lu’s. –

• Probably a student. There’s only one author for this track, but he’s in a band. I’ve listened to several of the band’s songs, and they all feel quite raw. –

• They’re all decent enough. If they really are young people, we can look forward to their progress? –

• … –

“Hmm… it seems the positive reviews aren’t just because of the instrument after all,” Geshu Qing said.

Siming nodded. “Exactly. That’s why I’m saying this is a good thing for us.”

“It’s just…” He clicked his tongue. “I have no idea how Nan Mu managed to dig up this particular piece. Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“I don’t know,” Geshu Qing replied instantly. “But the timing is too perfect. It feels off. That’s why my first instinct was to suspect he was trying to set us up for a fall by overhyping us… I can’t shake the feeling it was intentional. But if this really does benefit us, then maybe he’s helping us on purpose?”

“Why would he help us?” Siming asked.

“I don’t know.” Geshu Qing’s tone was utterly indifferent, offering nothing but dead ends.

He really couldn’t be blamed for his lack of effort.

Siming thought it over and sighed helplessly. “Anyway, let’s start by asking Lu Yuan if he knows this Nan Mu. For all we know, he might have been the one to ask Nan Mu for help.”

–

Lu Yuan gave a triple denial.

“Don’t know him, never reached out, it was probably just a coincidence.”