Chapter 379: The Six-Yao Score

A lot of favors were called in, and even more personal debts were incurred.

But it still wouldn't budge, and no approval could be granted.

It was clear that Lan Laotaitai was truly furious; she insisted on teaching him a lesson he would never forget for the rest of his life. In other words, it was useless for anyone to put in a good word.

Therefore, his family had basically given up, and only Jing Zeyang was still struggling to hold on. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been his turn to step forward, let alone go through such a roundabout way; the elders in his family would have already stepped in to plead with Wang Qi Zhi.

Lin Sicheng thought for a moment: "Brother Jing, is this job really so indispensable?"

Jing Zeyang looked miserable: "Cousin Lin, if I really get fired, I'll be like yellow mud falling into my crotch—if it's not shit, it's still shit. I'll be a laughingstock for the rest of my life!"

Lin Sicheng nodded: Standing from the position of public duty, Jing Zeyang certainly deserved it, but standing from the position of a friend, as long as there was the slightest hope, one had to try their best to fight for it.

Just as Wang Qi Zhi had said: Just because he dared to charge forward without regard for himself when you were in trouble, you have to pull him out of the fire.

Lin Sicheng thought for a moment: "Let me ask my teacher first!"

Jing Zeyang rubbed his hands: "Thank you, Cousin Lin, thank you, Cousin Lin!"

"Don't rush!" Lin Sicheng said bluntly, "I suspect it won't work out!"

Jing Zeyang looked pathetic: How could he not know that?

If it were easy to handle, his parents and his two uncles would have already handled it for him.

He was merely clinging to a final shred of hope: What if?

Lin Sicheng took out his phone and found a corner. Before he had even finished speaking, Wang Qi Zhi was caught between laughter and tears: "What kind of mess has Jing San'er gotten into? Forget it, let me ask around first!"

"Alright, Teacher!"

Lin Sicheng hung up the phone. After just five or six minutes, Wang Qi Zhi called back: "It's a big deal, and it's too embarrassing, so it's not just Jing San'er who is suffering; it includes their office, the costume and props team, and even the entire directing and logistics departments. Of course, Jing San'er bears the greatest responsibility—"

"The old lady was so angry she had a heart attack; she is dead set on using him as an example. Fortunately, his second uncle is capable; he begged everyone he could and asked the group leaders to mediate, so the old lady left a small opening: find the lost face exactly where it was lost—"

"For the Spring Festival, their troupe is still scheduled to visit enterprises. If their group can choreograph the program before New Year's Day, then everything will be fine. If they can't choreograph it, then things will be handled as they should be—"

After a slight pause, Wang Qi Zhi laughed: "But I estimate they won't be able to choreograph it: because everyone knows the old lady just wants Jing San'er to get out—"

If they can't choreograph it, the others will at most receive disciplinary action, a demerit, or a reprimand, but Jing Zeyang is definitely finished.

But if someone is blind enough to actually choreograph it: then fine, every single one of them will end up on Lan Laotaitai's blacklist—

"Teacher, is there really no other way?"

"It is quite difficult. Of course, we must still try to fight for it; I will find someone else to ask."

Jing Zeyang looked miserable: "Thank you, Third Uncle!"

"San'er, don't be in such a hurry to thank me. Your matter is truly difficult to handle: the old lady is such a noble person, yet just as she is about to retire, you pull a stunt like this, and her lifelong reputation was almost ruined in an instant? If she lets you off easily, it would be a betrayal of her half-lifetime of persistence—"

"Of course, don't panic. If it really doesn't work out, Third Uncle will transfer you to Xijing. Look at Lin Sicheng; isn't he doing quite well for himself?"

A transfer to Xijing was no different from being fired.

After hurriedly expressing his thanks several times, Lin Sicheng hung up the phone.

The two of them stared at each other with wide eyes, stunned for a long while.

Going around in circles, only to end up back at the starting point?

If Wang Qi Zhi said this matter was hard to handle, then it was truly hard to handle—

Turning the thought over in his mind, Lin Sicheng looked at the manuscript paper on the table: "Brother Jing, why not give it a try?"

Jing Zeyang shook his head.

The old lady wouldn't go back on her word; if she said New Year's Day, she meant New Year's Day.

The reason the office leadership was forcing him to submit a proposal before the start of winter was merely to apply pressure and force him to leave on his own.

Because as long as he left, the matter would be settled; whether the others received disciplinary action or reprimands, at least there would be a conclusion.

Therefore, as long as he stubbornly refused to leave, he could at least drag it out for two months. In such a long time, perhaps some kind of turning point would appear.

But if he just threw together a sloppy proposal, the old lady would have the most reasonable excuse, and she would surely strike without hesitation—

While pondering this, Jing Zeyang sighed: "Cousin Lin, if you can get Third Uncle to speak up, I will remember your kindness for the rest of my life!

"

"It's not like you have to submit it right now?" Lin Sicheng pointed at the manuscript paper again, "Brother Jing, I'm not lying to you: these are all lost ancient court dance scores. With a little adaptation, they are works that could win a gold medal!"

How could a gold medal be so easy to win?

The Mogao Caves are full of lost dance images; major art troupes and universities send teams to observe and conduct Artifact Research every year, but how many have actually won awards?

Thinking Lin Sicheng was just trying to comfort him, Jing Zeyang put his arm around his shoulder: "Forget it, let's not waste this time. Come, brother will treat you to a meal; let's drink until we drop today!"

Lin Sicheng sighed: That was true.

He couldn't exactly tell Jing Zeyang: Although I haven't studied this systematically, I actually know how to do it?

He nodded and gathered the manuscript papers. Shen Xiaomeng was very observant and hurried over to help.

After a brief thought, Lin Sicheng blinked.

Jing Zeyang understood in a second, and his face, which had been twisted into a knot, finally showed a hint of a smile.

What is lost in the east is gained in the west.

He probably wouldn't be able to keep his job, but after spending this time together, he was at least certain of one thing: this girl was sincere toward him.

Finding a wife wouldn't be bad either—

While pondering this, the three of them were collecting the papers. When they were halfway through, the sound of "tap, tap, tap" footsteps rang out from outside the door.

Immediately, the door was pushed open, and two tall, extremely beautiful girls walked in.

Seeing Jing Zeyang, the two of them snorted in unison, as if they had planned it. One of them gritted her teeth and glared at him fiercely.

Jing Zeyang rolled his eyes back at her.

Shen Xiaomeng smiled sheepishly and greeted them: "Teacher Yu, Teacher Yang!"

The two girls' expressions remained cold, but compared to how they treated Jing Zeyang, it was slightly better; at least they nodded.

In any case, he didn't know them, and Jing Zeyang had no intention of introducing them, so Lin Sicheng ignored them and carefully put away the materials.

It seemed they wanted to use the Bian Dao Shi; the two girls didn't move, just standing off to the side.

At first, the two didn't pay much attention, only glancing at the Temporary Badge on Lin Sicheng's chest.

Afterwards, seeing the documents being half-packed away, the two subconsciously took a couple of looks: being professionals in this field, they could naturally recognize that these were dance scores.

But that was limited to the extent of recognizing them as scores; they didn't know specifically what kind of scores they were. Firstly, the images were all simple sketches; secondly, they were photocopies from ancient texts, which were quite blurry; thirdly, the figures were wearing ancient costumes.

The key point was that they didn't recognize most of the characters on them.

They kept staring until Lin Sicheng put the manuscript paper into his bag; the two came back to their senses and exchanged a look: Why was this score so strange?

But it was just a moment of curiosity, and the two didn't pay it any more mind.

Watching them leave, one of them frowned: "Yu Jingsi, why do I feel like those were ancient scores?"

""

"They were definitely ancient scores!" the other nodded, "But I didn't recognize many of the characters?"

"They must have been found by Jing Zeyang; it looks like he really wants to choreograph!"

"Pfft, him?"

"It's just a pity for Xiao Meng?"

"Love-struck, hopeless!"

The two muttered, even cursing Jing Zeyang a few times, when suddenly, with a "Bang," the door was pushed open again.

Another person entered, in her early forties, wearing glasses, with a scholarly air about her.

The two hurriedly stood up: "Teacher Cheng!"

The woman nodded and set down the document bag in her hand: "I think I just saw Jing Zeyang?"

"Teacher Cheng, it was him, and also Xiao Meng!"

"There was also someone else wearing a temporary badge; he should be a friend of Jing Zeyang's!"

"It seems they want to choreograph?"

The two girls spoke one after the other, and the woman was stunned for a moment: "What?"

Jing Zeyang choreographing?

It wasn't that she looked down on Jing Zeyang, but as an Intern, he could barely even transcribe a score.

"They were holding dance scores and musical scores; they should be planning to choreograph, but those scores felt very strange—" Yu Jingsi recalled, "There were a few sheets full of characters like 'He', 'Si', 'Shang', 'Fan', 'Yi', and there were others that looked like Traditional Chinese characters, but I didn't recognize them—"

"The former are Gongche Notation, the latter should be Jianzi Notation—but they haven't been used much since the Song Dynasty!"

The woman had a strange look on her face, "Where did Jing Zeyang find those?"

"I don't know, but they were all photocopies, and very blurry, as if they were copied from ancient scores."

As she spoke, Yu Jingsi suddenly remembered: "Oh, at the top of one of the pages there were two characters, looking like a song title: 'Liu Yao'—"

The woman was stunned: "What 'waist'?"

"Teacher Cheng, it's not the 'waist' of waist and legs, it's the 'Liu' of one, two, three, four, five, six, and 'Yao'—"

The woman froze.

Suddenly, she turned around and rushed out of the Bian Dao Shi like the Wind.

Yu Jingsi and Yang Lin were confused and looked at each other in dismay.

After pressing the elevator and entering the car, Lin Sicheng laughed: "Brother Jing, who were those two just now?"

Thinking he was thinking crookedly again, Jing Zeyang sighed: "Cousin Lin, do I look like someone who can't control his lower body? Those two are the A and B leads of our Third Troupe!"

Our Third Troupe, the Classical Song and Dance Troupe?

Lin Sicheng paused, a strange look appearing on his face: "The one whose skirt fell off?"

"Right, the one who's a bit darker and gritted her teeth at me when she saw me—"

Gritting her teeth was putting it mildly?

In a public hall, under the eyes of everyone, performing a proper program, and the skirt just fell off?

If it were him, he would probably give Jing Zeyang a few slaps.

————

But it seemed they were quite reasonable: at least they didn't take their anger out on Shen Xiaomeng because of Jing Zeyang.

"Did they receive any disciplinary action?"

"With such a huge accident, how could they escape it? One got a warning, the other a public reprimand!" Jing Zeyang sighed, "You think Lan Laotaitai's nickname 'Black Face' was just blown out of proportion?"

Lin Sicheng paused: "They punish the ones who didn't go on stage too?"

"Of course: the A-lead goes on stage, the B-lead assists in checking—they definitely have to be punished!"

No wonder they looked like they wanted to eat him when they saw Jing Zeyang?

If this were him, he would have had to fight a few times—

Lin Sicheng suppressed a laugh: "Brother Jing, I suggest that if you can get through this hurdle, you'd better transfer out as soon as possible—"

Of course.

Otherwise, if someone set him up, he would be in a real bind.

But the problem was, where could he go?

His reputation was already ruined; everywhere he went, they treated him like a rat crossing the street—

Thinking of this, Jing Zeyang's face twisted into a bitter melon again.

The three of them exited the elevator; Shen Xiaomeng went to the Treasury to get the car, and Jing Zeyang had to return his badge, so he told Lin Sicheng to wait for him in the lobby for a while.

There was a reception area nearby, and Lin Sicheng sat for a while.

About two or three minutes later, Jing Zeyang returned, and just as Lin Sicheng stood up, a figure rushed out of the elevator like the Wind.

Pausing for a moment, the woman saw the two of them and jogged over.

"Jing Zeyang, Xiao Jing—"

Jing Zeyang turned around subconsciously: "Group Leader Cheng!"

Immediately after, he added: "Group Leader, did I ask for leave?"

The woman nodded: Who cares about that?

Because of the plagiarism incident, the original office head had been transferred to the Dance Troupe; she was only an interim replacement, so the performance accident had little to do with her.

She knew Jing Zeyang had strong backing, and she knew even better that General Manager Lan was determined to get him fired, so Cheng Nianjia couldn't be bothered to care; as long as Jing Zeyang submitted a leave slip, she approved it without exception.

But that wasn't the point; the point was the ancient score that Yu Saijing had mentioned—

With her hands on her hips to catch her breath, Cheng Nianjia looked at Jing Zeyang: "Saijing and Yang Lin said you were planning to choreograph?"

I'd like to choreograph, but do I even have the ability?

Jing Zeyang gave a bitter smile: "Office Head, my friend is just here to take a look and see if he can help!"

This one?

He looked even younger than Jing Zeyang, like a college student.

After sizing up Lin Sicheng for a few moments, Cheng Nianjia smiled again: "Saijing said you have the Six Yao Score?"

What Six Yao Seven One?

Jing Zeyang was bewildered and just about to shake his head when Lin Sicheng stopped him: "That's right!"

Cheng Nianjia froze, half-believing and half-doubting, as if asking: Is that for real?

Lin Sicheng didn't speak, just stared at her. Cheng Nianjia came to her senses: "Hello, I am the head of the Seventh Choreography Office, and Xiao Jing's Group Leader—"

"Did Group Leader Cheng just take over?"

Cheng Nianjia was stunned for a moment: "Yes!"

That explains it.

If it had been the previous leader, would they have been so good-tempered upon seeing Jing Zeyang?

In a flash, Lin Sicheng smiled and opened his bag. He flipped through it casually and took out a piece of paper.

Purely out of instinct, Cheng Nianjia stretched her neck forward.

A large part of it was ancient-style illustrations, and a small part was text.

It was indeed an ancient score, and just as Yu Saijing had said, it looked like it had been photocopied from some ancient book; the character illustrations were not very clear, and the handwriting was somewhat blurred.

But at least it was legible—

Cheng Nianjia stared intently:

Introduction—Leading Sleeve (Image, Image, Image)—Restrained Countenance (Image, Image, Image)—Drooping Hands (Image, Image, Image—): Wrists spin, sleeves fall like falling dew—

Breaking—Double Flicking Clouds (Image, Image, Image)—Bending Waist—Continuous Turns—Silk sleeves brushing the face, seemingly full of emotion—

Hurried—Splitting Cloud Throw (Image, Image, Image) Long—Throwing Sleeves—Following the Beat—Swirling Hem—Sleeve Splitting Cloud·Wind—

Having barely read two or three lines, "Swish," Lin Sicheng took the paper back.

Cheng Nianjia was anxious: No—I only read two lines?

She jerked her head up, just about to say something, but seeing Lin Sicheng's half-smiling expression, Cheng Nianjia suddenly realized: This is a lost ancient score; it's already good enough that he let her see it for two glances.

Cheng Nianjia couldn't be certain if this was the legendary Six Yao Score, but at least she was sure that what was drawn on it was definitely an ancient sleeve-flicking soft dance.

Recalling the content and the clothing on the stick-figure characters, it was either Tang or Song—

But why was it a three-part structure of "Introduction," "Breaking," and "Hurried"?

Just as she was secretly suspicious, a flash of inspiration seemed to cross her mind, as if touched by divine wisdom: Is this the "Yue" score that spread to Japan during the time of Tang and Song poetry?

In an instant, Cheng Nianjia's eyes widened—