Chapter 396: The Gong and Drum Score

From going upstairs to finishing his meal, Lin Sicheng only took half an hour.

Not expecting him to be so fast, the others could only speed up; Liu Hao and Cheng Nianjia only managed to get half-full.

Back in the Bian Dao Shi, Lin Sicheng was methodical and followed his routine: checking literature, transcribing musical passages, and compiling notation...

A group of people sat around, their expressions varied, whispering to one another.

Just as it turned two o'clock, with two "buzzing" sounds, Liu Hao's phone vibrated. She glanced at it and walked to Lin Sicheng's side: "Little Lin, the folk music teachers have arrived!"

Lin Sicheng nodded: "Trouble you, Editor-in-Chief Liu, let them in!"

Liu Hao exited the Bian Dao Shi, and subsequently, a group of people filed in one after another.

There were men and women, old and young, a total of about ten people, carrying large boxes and small bags in their hands.

Still busy with his work, Lin Sicheng stood up, bowed slightly, said "Thank you for your hard work, teachers," and sat back down.

At first, Li Jingting also thought that only the performing musicians from the Folk Music Troupe had arrived, so he didn't pay much attention. But when he saw a familiar face, he was stunned for a moment and stood up instinctively.

But before he could open his mouth, Xiao Yinan waved his hand and walked over.

His speed was not slow, but his footsteps were extremely light, and he deliberately lowered his voice: "Director Wan, Professor Li, thank you for your hard work!"

"Little Ren (Ren Zhuo), Little Cheng (Cheng Nianjia), you sit, no need to get up!"

Wan Fengyun was stunned for a moment and subconsciously looked at Lin Sicheng not far away.

At first glance, it felt so exaggerated: no matter what, Xiao Yinan was the Editor-in-Chief of a National Level performance troupe, yet he was so cautious, afraid of interrupting Lin Sicheng's train of thought?

But thinking from another perspective: if someone were to come to Beijing Dance Academy and, without asking for any compensation, help them translate and restore the *Six Yao* score, Wan Fengyun would dare to enshrine them like an ancestor...

The few exchanged some polite words, and Xiao Yinan glanced at Lin Sicheng, getting straight to the point: "Editor-in-Chief Liu, how is it?"

Liu Hao did not know how to answer.

Whether saying Lin Sicheng was piecing things together or saying he might be just going through the motions, those were only guesses. What it was specifically like would have to wait until the music was composed. Furthermore, the few from Beijing Dance Academy were right there, so it wasn't easy to speak directly.

After thinking for a long time, she replied with four words: "Everything is going smoothly!"

Xiao Yinan understood instantly: if it were truly smooth, Liu Hao wouldn't have hesitated for so long; it seemed there had been some complications.

But the problem shouldn't be too big, otherwise she would definitely have reported to him and Editor-in-Chief Lan in advance.

While pondering, a "creak" sound came from the side, and Xiao Yinan subconsciously turned his head.

Lin Sicheng stood up, organizing the handwritten materials, while a rather pretty young girl helped him change the manuscript paper on the music stand.

It was the same on both left and right sides; one side was staff notation, the other was blank paper.

Two Assistants packed up the computer and paper documents into a box, and Lin Sicheng and Fang Jin moved the tables to the side. There weren't many things, just four conference tables; by the time Liu Hao reacted and wanted to help, Lin Sicheng had already finished.

It seemed that the next step was to transcribe the score...

Liu Hao originally wanted to introduce them to Lin Sicheng, but Xiao Yinan shook his head, meaning not to disturb Lin Sicheng if possible.

Editor-in-Chief Liu understood instantly and let Cheng Nianjia introduce the instrumental teachers to Lin Sicheng, while she took the opportunity to quickly report to Xiao Yinan. Xiao Yinan listened quietly, his expression seemingly calm, but his eyebrows twitched imperceptibly a few times.

Without even seeing a shadow of the score, Lin Sicheng wanted to transcribe it. At first glance, it looked like he wanted to start from scratch and create something new.

But the problem was, he was transcribing musical passages, adapting old tunes, and finding some messy ancient scores that felt like they had nothing to do with *Six Yao*, and then translating a portion of them?

Plus the fact that he had arranged for the dance performance to be rehearsed in advance, anyone with a little understanding or basic knowledge of music theory could guess what Lin Sicheng was doing: patching things together and forcing them to fit.

Instinctively, Xiao Yinan recalled the instructions from Editor-in-Chief Lan earlier: Old Xiao, they don't owe us anything; just based on that manuscript, it would be more than enough to promote Jing Zeyang to a permanent position ten times over...

So, if that kid says he wants to leave after finishing this dance, don't stop him, and don't say anything unnecessary; just ten words: "Thank you very much, looking forward to the next collaboration..."

The problem is, what if he wants to leave before he's finished?

Thoughts flashed through his mind like a Zoumaling. Meeting Liu Hao's slightly uneasy yet hopeful gaze, Xiao Yinan smiled: "What if?" Editor-in-Chief Liu was stunned: but even Ren Zhuo and Professor Wan said it was impossible, so how high could the probability of this "what if" be?

But taking a step back: it was the Central Song and Dance Troupe after all; if the music Lin Sicheng composed wasn't satisfactory, were all these choreographers just being kept to eat for free?

At worst, they would just compose it again...

Just as he was comforting himself, a "clap-clap" sound reached his ears.

Lin Sicheng clapped his hands, gathering the group of performers into a circle. After introducing each other, he explained the process and details. Roughly, he would read the score, starting with a solo by the main instrument, then adapting and adjusting based on the performance effect. Once the main melody was composed, he would proceed to multi-instrument harmony. After adjusting this part, the accompaniment would be preliminarily completed, and then the dance and music would be combined, with adjustments and adaptations made based on the overall effect. The process was more or less the same, but it was easy to say and hard to do. The key lay in the "original score" used for transcription: the higher the completeness and the more detailed the records, the lower the difficulty; conversely, the higher the difficulty.

And Lin Sicheng, on the other hand, was copying a passage here and picking a sentence there?

After finishing his instructions, Lin Sicheng sat down in front of the music stand with the organized manuscript, and the group of people beside him sighed in unison.

Wan Fengyun and Ren Zhuo exchanged a look: who couldn't piece things together? The problem was, could what was composed actually be used?

If what Lin Sicheng composed was even passable, the two of them would dare to kowtow.

Li Jingting secretly guessed: would it be like before, where everyone was pessimistic, but Lin Sicheng ended up succeeding?

Thinking of those dance posture diagrams, it really was hard to say...

Xiao Yinan narrowed his eyes: it couldn't be that, just as Liu Hao worried, Lin Sicheng was preparing to just go through the motions?

It was no wonder she thought so: looking at those manuscripts, they were either passages picked from old tunes or notes copied from original scores; besides patching things together, there was no other use.

Sure enough, Lin Sicheng picked up a piece of manuscript paper and read the scale aloud, and everyone sighed: *Dunhuang* scroll scores; *Slow Tune*; *West River Moon*.

In the morning, Lin Sicheng had held the Pipa himself and played this section no less than twenty times. Although the beats were different, the scales were still those same scales.

They were all experts who could remember what they heard, so they didn't even need to look at what was written on the paper in Lin Sicheng's hand; they knew just by listening. It was indeed *Slow Tune West River Moon*.

The main instrument was the Pipa. After he read a section, the musician played it once.

Compared to the morning, the timbre was slightly different.

But this was not strange: the one Lin Sicheng held was a Quxiang Pipa Pipa instrument, which was the modern version of the Four-String Pipa. And what the instrumentalist used was the Tang Dynasty Wuxian Pipa Pipa Pipa, which had been lost after the Song Dynasty and only gradually restored in recent years.

The frets were different, the number of strings was different, and there were also great differences in the sound box structure, fundamental frequency center, and Overtone extension, so the sound quality and timbre during performance were naturally different.

The few people on the side didn't pay attention, only Lin Sicheng seemed very surprised, as if he hadn't expected the sound quality to be like this, and subconsciously frowned.

Seeing him staring straight at her, the actress thought she had played it wrong and tried hard to recall.

That was right, it was these few scales?

Just as she was suspicious, Lin Sicheng looked at her fingers pressing on the frets: "Teacher Zhou knows how to play the Wuxian Pipa Pipa Ruan?"

The actress was stunned for a moment and nodded quickly: "Yes, Teacher Lin!"

To be precise, she was previously a Ruan musician: she could play all of them, including the high, middle, secondary, and low, as well as the Five-String Ruanxian that gradually declined after the founding of the nation. About three years ago, the Five-String Pipa began to revive, but no one in the troupe knew how to play it.

They are all plucked instruments, and whether in terms of shape or the principle of sound production, they are not much different from the Five-String Ruanxian, only the techniques are slightly different, so the Troupe Leader let her try.

As it turned out, she picked it up extremely quickly, and from then on, she had an extra part-time job: Five-String Pipa player.

But it was used very rarely; even in the Central Song and Dance Troupe, she couldn't play it more than a few times a year, so she naturally practiced less and was inevitably rusty.

She thought Lin Sicheng had heard it, so she smiled embarrassedly: "Teacher Lin, I'm sorry, I haven't played for a long time, my hands are a bit stiff..." Lin Sicheng smiled: "It's fine, it's just for transcribing the score, as long as the pitch is accurate!"

It was just a small interlude, and Lin Sicheng continued. He read two sections from the paper and had the musician play them four or five times, but he didn't make any major changes, still only adjusting the tempo slightly.

Then, he picked up another sheet.

Xiao Yinan squinted and took a look: this sheet had two more lines.

At the very top was a staff notation filled with scales, and below it were a few lines of Yan notation characters.

Besides that, another line of Chinese characters was annotated on the side: Song, "Spring in Luoyang".

Xiao Yinan was stunned for a moment: she knew "Spring in Luoyang", a folk song lyric from the Tang Dynasty. Many poets had written lyrics for it, the most famous being Cen Shen of the Tang Dynasty and Ouyang Xiu of the Song Dynasty.

However, the original melody had been lost in the country; it was said that Joseon had a surviving score, but she didn't remember anyone ever translating or restoring it.

So where did these two sections that Lin Sicheng was holding come from?

Knowing what she was suspicious about, Liu Hao lowered his voice: "The Joseon 'Yue Xue Gui Fan' includes the 'Spring in Luoyang' melody, and Lin Sicheng translated two sections on the spot."

What the hell?

Xiao Yinan thought she had misheard: "On the spot?"

"Yes, on the spot!" Liu Hao nodded, "Translated on the spot this morning!"

Was that Yan notation?

Since when could those ghost-drawn symbols, which even music history Experts scratched their heads at, be translated just by saying so?

She was a bit far away, and her eyes were a bit nearsighted, so at most she could only see the larger Chinese characters, and the scales were not very clear.

After looking carefully a few times, she really couldn't see clearly, so Xiao Yinan leaned forward slightly: "Professor Li, Director Wan, you two saw these two sections after they were translated, right?" The two of them didn't know what to say: they had indeed looked at them, but having spent most of their lives in Artifact Research, they had never seen anyone translate Yan notation by just taking it over and translating it directly?

If asked whether the translation was correct, they would definitely lean toward it being inaccurate. But that wasn't the point; the point was that Lin Sicheng was using folk song lyrics to provide accompaniment for court Yan Music Grand Suite?

To use an inappropriate analogy: singing "Eighteen Touches" at the Great Hall of the People—the gap between the two is not a generational difference, but a chasm.

Seeing that neither of them was speaking, Xiao Yinan roughly understood.

It was basically the same as what she had guessed: like a donkey's lips not matching a horse's mouth, forced and mismatched.

Not much, still only two sections; Lin Sicheng didn't change much, just had the musician play it twice, and then recorded it onto the empty score.

Then, he picked up the third sheet.

Like the previous one, it started with a few lines of incomprehensible notation characters, then the staff notation, and at the very bottom were Chinese character Annotations.

Xiao Yinan looked carefully: Tang, "Spring Oriole Turning".

Like "Spring in Luoyang", many people had written poems and lyrics for "Spring Oriole Turning", with Zhang Hu of the Tang Dynasty being the most famous.

This one hadn't been completely lost; surviving scores were recorded in the Song Dynasty's "Yuefu Shiji", "Chen Chang Le Shu", and even the Japanese Yue classic "Ren Zhi Yao Lu".

Of course, it was still the Yan notation that was difficult to distinguish, recognize, and even harder to translate. Since there was staff notation on this piece of paper, it must have been translated by Lin Sicheng on the spot. Compared to the previous "Spring in Luoyang", this was much easier to accept: at least the literature clearly recorded that "Spring Oriole Turning" was the soft dance accompaniment in Tang Dynasty Yan Music, and it could be considered to be of the same origin as "Lüyao".

Still only two sections, and again he didn't change much; after playing it twice, Lin Sicheng filled it into the score.

Then came the third sheet.

This sheet had no notation characters and started with staff notation, but there were a great many Chinese character notes below.

Her intuition felt something was wrong; the group glanced at it in unison, and when they saw the line of notes at the very bottom, everyone was stunned: Bai Pu, "Rain on the Paulownia"... what was this?

It felt somewhat familiar, and after trying hard to recall, Ren Zhuo frowned: "Seems to be 'Tang Minghuang Autumn Night Rain on the Paulownia'?" Hmm, why was the name so long, like an excerpt play?

Eh, wait, an excerpt play?

Li Jingting was suddenly stunned: this was Yuan Zaju?

Good heavens... Lin Sicheng was using this to provide accompaniment for "Lüyaowu"?

It was no wonder he was shocked: these two things were not the same thing at all.

The structure was different, the essence was different, the core was different, the carrier was different, and even the performance form, narrative mode, musical instruments, tuning system, and even the function were all different; how did Lin Sicheng connect these two things together?

The key was, what did he rely on to translate these two musical segments, that is, the two lines of staff notation on the paper?

Was it the singing style, the tune title, or perhaps the percussion, or the Pangu accompaniment?

It was no exaggeration; the group of Experts was shocked to the point of being dazed and dumbfounded.

Because this was no longer a question of whether it was possible or how far apart they were, but that they were separated by several dimensions.

It felt indescribably ridiculous, and even overturned their previous understanding...

After being stunned for a long while, until Lin Sicheng said "OK" and picked up his pen to fill in the score, the few people finally reacted: it was translated?

Looking closely again, one by one, everyone had a strange expression: this time Lin Sicheng was not filling in a staff score, but a blank sheet of white paper. At the front were serial numbers and section numbers, and then Chinese characters: Kuang Qi | Tai Qi "Kuang Kuang Qi" Tai Kuang...

They were all experts and knew at a glance that this was a percussion score from theater: Kuang was a heavy strike on the big drum, Qi was a tap on the Pangu, and Tai was a light strike on the small gong. Translating a percussion score from theater was not strange at all. What they were curious about was what method Lin Sicheng intended to use to piece this segment into the dance music?