Chapter 8: Gripping Fate by the Throat!

Song Mo's grades had always been decent since childhood.

He had always been working very hard at his studies.

But he had never, ever felt like today.

So desperately eager to learn!

Song Mo casually picked up a book — it was a piano score.

He flipped through it at random for a while.

A mechanical electronic voice immediately sounded in his mind.

"Learning System officially activated."

"Personal panel has been refreshed."

Song Mo began checking his personal panel.

【Name: Song Mo】

【Skills: Business Mastery, Learning Introduction, Piano Introduction, Driving Introduction, Singing Introduction, Cooking Novice, Skateboarding Novice, Painting Novice……】

"You flipped through a piano book, learning piano technique, proficiency +1."

Every ten minutes of reading through a piano book would grant one point of proficiency.

【Piano Introduction: 88/100】

Another two hours passed.

【Piano Mastery: 1/1000】

Upon reaching Piano Mastery, the proficiency requirement had multiplied tenfold!

By now, it was already midnight.

The moment his piano skill rose from Introduction to Mastery, Song Mo also felt an unprecedented emotion within — the prelude to an artistic outpouring.

At this hour, everyone should be asleep, right?

Song Mo tiptoed out of his room.

He arrived at the piano room on the second floor.

Father Song and Mother Song hadn't come home; in the house there were only the housekeeper and Song Wanrou.

So what if he woke them up?

Song Mo, dressed in a set of pajamas, quietly sat down on the piano bench.

His long, fair fingers lifted gently, but did not press the keys.

Song Mo closed his eyes, and what surfaced in his mind was the experience of his previous life.

After awakening his memories, he had been walking on eggshells, mulling over every single thing three times before acting — yet in the end he still died a wretched death.

Song Wanrou's betrayal, that woman who had chatted so happily with him and even cut in ahead of time — both had turned on him at Chen Xi's command to kill……

Everyone seemed to stand against him.

He stood alone, yet had to make enemies of the whole world.

Originally, Song Mo had intended to play a lullaby.

Something like Schumann's "Piano Piece" or Brahms's "Lullaby"……

But the fury in his heart gradually built up; the suppressed emotion was like a volcano long dormant — once it burst forth, nothing could hold it back!

Suddenly, those slender fingers moved!

Upon the elegant black-and-white keys, his ten fingers were given souls, like a masterly dancer gracefully twirling across the black and white.

The impassioned notes battled in the air, the musical notes colliding fiercely — as if on an ancient battlefield choked with dust, brimming with lofty ambition and heroic spirit.

At one moment the enchanting music suddenly dipped low.

But the very next instant it surged into an even loftier, more striving posture!

A momentary setback brought an even greater resistance!

An unyielding soul, reaching back to grip fate by the throat!

What Song Mo was playing was precisely the legendary musician Beethoven's famous piece "Fate March"!

A solo piano performance, its passion undiminished!

……

Song Wanrou tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

Song Mo's coldness left her sleepless through the night.

No matter what her future held, right now the person she cared about and valued most was, in truth, Song Mo himself.

She was afraid of being driven out of the Song Family.

Because what she would lose would not only be the comfortable material conditions.

More importantly, once she was driven out,

it would mean Song Wanrou had lost her "home."

No one longed more for the existence of a "home" than Song Wanrou, who was an orphan — it didn't need to be grand or wealthy, only warm enough.

It was already the small hours of the morning.

Song Wanrou still couldn't fall asleep, heartsick.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of a piano.

The enchanting, silky piano piece slipped quietly in through the crack of the door, then — abandoning its gentle style — forced its way domineeringly into her ears, leaving its imprint on her mind.

The impassioned melody, the suppressed fury, were conveyed plainly by the piano.

As a student of Shanghai Conservatory of Music, Song Wanrou was no ignoramus when it came to art; such emotionally rich music, even her teachers could not play at will.

It required the brewing of emotion, and the right moment to ripen.

She never expected to hear it — here, inside the house?

Throwing off the covers, Song Wanrou rose gently.

A guess rose in her heart.

Could it be him?

He had learned piano, and his skill was quite good, but it wasn't as fluid and natural as the piano she heard today — it was like a volcano held under pressure.

Waiting for the day it would erupt!

Tiptoeing, she eased open the bedroom door.

Song Wanrou didn't even dare use her phone for light, afraid of disturbing whoever was playing the piano.

Relying on her familiarity with the house, she made her way to the living room, where she could see the second-floor piano room, blazing with light.

Though dressed in pajamas, his posture was strikingly upright, like a towering mountain peak — never yielding, never to be crushed!

The slender fingers were the world's most perfect work of art; the black-and-white piano keys had built a stage for them, and they danced upon it.

Swift as a startled swan, lithe as a gliding dragon.

The handsome face was half-hidden by his bangs; in the shadows you couldn't see that person's eyes, yet endless fancies sprang up for no reason.

The eyes hidden beneath the shadow — were they still, deep water flowing silently, or dazzling bright as gemstones?

The music grew more and more impassioned.

As if the struggle grew fiercer, the pain deeper.

She seemed to see a young man who only wanted to protect everything dear to him, yet was abandoned again and again by those closest to him, wounded again and again.

What he would have shattered himself to pieces to protect was, in the end, what wounded him most mercilessly.

Even so, he remained steadfast.

From despair, he let out an angry roar!

Never to yield!

The piano stopped.

It was like…

A long, long silence beneath torn flesh and grinding agony.

Listening on and on, Song Wanrou's tears burst forth.

She didn't know why, in the future, she would betray Song Mo, would hurt her own younger brother — but the her of now was filled with boundless remorse.

What she hated was her future self!

The light on the second floor went out.

Footsteps drew closer.

Song Wanrou clamped her hand hard over her mouth, weeping in silence.

She dropped behind the sofa, like a cockroach that shuns the light, hiding beyond anyone's line of sight.

Until she heard the sound of a door closing.

Song Wanrou let out a long breath.

A faint, choked sob.

Finally squeezed out from that soft, tender throat.

The long night stretched on, no heart for sleep.

……

Song Mo returned to his room.

He felt that all the pent-up viciousness from his past life had been poured out in that piano performance just now.

His mind felt clear and refreshed.

His body felt as if a great weight had been lifted.

It seemed the system's skill upgrades weren't simple at all — they were genuine, personal insights of his own; the system had merely played a role in accelerating and promoting them.

Only… perhaps the acceleration was a bit fierce.

【Piano Mastery: 101/1000】

Just one fully emotionally invested performance — and it was the equivalent of 1000 minutes of reading!

Song Mo smiled.

With the system at hand, it was as if he held a long rope.

Today the long rope is in hand — when shall we bind the azure dragon!

Just do it!

(End of this chapter)