HDRDTH -Chapter 54 Give Me Some Special Instruments

Yu Xian stared at the crumpled poster. His gaze landed on the man in the center wearing a sequined suit.

Zhang Jieke.

The same clown who got completely crushed on the Spring Festival Gala stage by The Lonely Brave, and now he actually dared to run to Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School to try and “take revenge” in front of middle school students?

Yu Xian felt a headache coming on.

This guy was like chewing gum stuck to his shoe—impossible to shake off. Why the hell was it so hard for him to just live quietly?

Su Wanyi keenly noticed the change in his expression and smiled gently.

“Xiao Yu, don’t refuse so quickly.”

“Xixi is now something of a school celebrity. Since that new student has already made such bold claims, if you don’t show up, who knows what those classmates will say?”

“Kids these days are very competitive. If she gets labeled as a ‘boastful liar,’ how will she hold her head up at school?”

“Besides, your song The Lonely Brave is now considered their school’s spiritual anthem. Even the morning exercise broadcast has been replaced with it.”

“The principal has already called me several times. He really wants to invite you, the mysterious mastermind behind it all—even just to cut a ribbon would be enough.”

“That’s right, Uncle Yu…”

Seeing Yu Xian soften slightly, Su Xi quickly grabbed his sleeve to push her advantage.

Her big eyes immediately filled with moisture, the tip of her nose turning red, tears swirling in her eyes like they could fall at any moment.

Seeing this, Yu Xian felt a headache building.

If he really went to a public stage with thousands of people and exposed even a little of himself, his dream of peacefully fishing in Jiangcheng would be completely ruined.

But looking at the little girl’s aggrieved expression, his veteran soul—beaten down by society for decades—instantly collapsed.

He simply couldn’t handle her tearful eyes.

“Alright, alright, stop acting,” Yu Xian sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

This was the price of being a father figure—even a salted fish had to flip over for his kid.

“I’ll go, but I have conditions.”

“I won’t show my face. No interviews. I perform and leave immediately.”

“No one can stop me. Not even Jesus. Got it?”

“Yay! Uncle Yu is the best!”

Su Xi instantly stopped crying, tears evaporating in a second, and happily ran back to practice singing.

Su Wanyi smiled and sent a message back to the long-waiting school principal.

Yu Xian slumped on the sofa, utterly exhausted.

What was he even supposed to perform for a bunch of middle school kids?

He closed his eyes. In his mind, melodies capable of shaking Bird’s Nest Stadium in his previous life clashed wildly.

If he had to go on stage, then he would go big.

Better to drop something devastating—something that would blow these overly energetic kids and that so-called pop superstar completely out of their minds, so no one would ever bother him at Jinsui Bay again.

The next morning, a low engine rumble sounded outside the villa.

Yu Xian yawned as he opened the door and saw a black Audi parked outside.

Standing at the gate was Shen Zhinian, the principal of Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School—a man usually seen only in educational journals, now personally arriving with his elite arts team.

He was also holding two premium tins of tea, looking extremely earnest.

“Mr. Yu, I heard from Ms. Su that you agreed to appear. I came uninvited—please forgive me.”

His posture was extremely humble.

After sitting down, Shen Zhinian sipped Pu’er tea carefully.

“Mr. Yu, to be honest, I’m under a lot of pressure for this arts festival.”

“Today’s children are influenced by the internet—idol chasing, comparison, constant distraction. They can’t calm their minds.”

“But you managed to let a pure child like Xixi sing a piece with such strength that tears through darkness. The composition is truly astonishing.”

“I’d like to ask—do you have any unique methods when it comes to educating children?”

“If you could say a few words to the whole school, it would be an immeasurable contribution!”

The secretary behind him immediately pulled out a notebook, pen hovering, ready to record.

Yu Xian looked at the scene and his mouth twitched.

Teach?

What was he supposed to teach?

How to catch nothing?

He leaned back casually.

“Principal Shen, raising children and fishing are actually the same kind of cultivation.”

Shen Zhinian froze slightly and leaned forward.

“Please elaborate!”

Yu Xian crossed his legs and pointed meaningfully toward the scenery outside.

“Fishing is about one word: patience.”

“Modern education is too rushed. The moment fish fry are released, teachers and parents already start throwing heavy bait and casting huge nets, hoping to pull up a hundred-jin monster the next day.”

“And what happens?”

“The water gets muddy, the fish get scared to death, and in the end you only haul up a net of mud.”

Shen Zhinian nodded repeatedly. The secretary’s pen flew across the page.

“Overdevelopment leads to impatience—brilliant, truly brilliant!”

Seeing this, Yu Xian continued his completely improvised “air-force philosophy” without changing expression.

“Even more important—every child is a different kind of fish.”

“If you insist on using a standardized industrial fishing hook to catch all fish in the world, that’s not fishing—that’s abuse.”

“The highest level of mastery is not the moment a fish enters your net.”

“It is being able to sit calmly on that empty riverbank—even after a day of zero catches—and still watch the clouds roll and unfold without a care in the world.”

“We don’t teach kids how to win. We teach them how to stay seated calmly—even when they can’t catch a single fish.”

The living room fell into a long, suffocating silence.

Principal Shen’s hand holding the pen trembled slightly. His eyes burned with uncontrollable excitement and admiration.

“Watching clouds roll and unfold… elegance in adversity, calm in failure!”

“Mr. Yu is truly an education master hidden among ordinary people! This level of insight reaches the soul!”

Principal Shen suddenly stood up and extended both hands toward Yu Xian.

“Mr. Yu, you must be the finale performance of this arts festival!”

“As long as you are willing to anchor the show, I will make sure everything is arranged properly.”

“To thank you for your guidance to Jiangcheng’s education system, the Ming Dynasty release pond behind the school—sealed for sixty years—will be granted to you as your private territory!”

“It is connected to underground rivers. It hasn’t seen a human in sixty years. The wild giant grass carp inside are probably already half-spiritual creatures.”

“No one else is qualified to touch that water except you!”

Yu Xian’s hand, which had been about to politely see the guests out, froze mid-air.

Ming Dynasty release pond?

Connected to underground rivers?

Sixty years without fishing?!

His eyes lit up instantly. In his mind, scenes of hauling massive dozens-of-kilo grass carp flashed vividly.

His previously perfunctory expression vanished without a trace, replaced by a solemn, almost heroic paternal demeanor.

“Principal Shen, you really have an eye for people.”

Yu Xian gripped his hand tightly with righteous seriousness.

“For the future of these children—and for Jiangcheng’s education—I, Yu Xian, will risk it all!”

After sending off Principal Shen and his group, Yu Xian turned to Wang Dafu.

“Go. Get me some special instruments.”

“I’m going to let these Jiangcheng kids understand what real Chinese grandeur is—and what dimensional suppression looks like.”

In the following days, Jinsui Bay villa turned into a temporary “devil-level music production center.”

“Dad! The two-meter ox-hide drum you wanted—I borrowed it from the Shaanxi Opera Troupe!”

Wang Dafu directed several workers, sweating as they carried a massive ancient drum into the yard.

“And these two-meter-long Tibetan horns—I had them air-shipped from Lhasa! The shipping alone cost over a hundred thousand!”

Yu Xian stood in the yard, staring at the giant drum, frowning slightly.

He originally only intended to accompany, but after several trials, Su Xi—though improving rapidly—still lacked the overwhelming dominance needed for that rap section.

“Uncle Yu, this rap still feels off when I recite it. My throat’s almost breaking—it feels like a child wearing adult clothes.”

Su Xi wiped sweat from her forehead, slightly discouraged.

Yu Xian sighed and took the microphone.

“This isn’t ‘reciting.’ This is engraving. Listen carefully.”

His gaze changed.

No longer the lazy salted fish basking in the sun—but a heavy, weathered presence that had seen through life itself.

He tapped the beat lightly with his toes. Every word exploded like iron striking stone:

“Look at these mountains—thousands of valleys and ridges, stretching across rivers upon rivers!”

“Let this river—stars racing across currents, forming bend after bend!”

He finalized the arrangement.

“I’ll handle the rap. You take the female melody, chanting, and especially the Mongolian throat-singing part.”

“We’re going to teach them a lesson.”

Yu Xian stood up and casually picked up a horse-head fiddle.

A long, desolate tone echoed from the strings.

“Listen. Throat singing isn’t shouting.”

He tapped Su Xi’s shoulder with the bow, his tone harsh and uncompromising.

“Put away that sweet little voice!”

“Imagine you are an eagle circling above Yin Mountain. Beneath you is the endless Hulunbuir grassland.”

“Your breath must be long. Your voice must be hollow. There must be a wildness in your bones that cannot be suppressed!”

The next two days, Su Xi underwent what could only be described as torture-level vocal training.

Every time she failed to reach that ethereal peak, Yu Xian would mercilessly interrupt her.

She repeated the solemn, desolate melody over and over, forcing her throat until it felt like it might bleed—but seeing Yu Xian’s seriousness, she gritted her teeth and endured.

At this point, Yu Xian no longer had even a trace of “lazy fish” energy.

He wore a black tank top soaked in sweat. His arm muscles were sharply defined. Every strike on the drum was steady like a nail driven into wood, shaking the entire villa’s windows.

Qin Yue stood aside, face pale, murmuring:

“This… this isn’t music. This is the declaration of an era…”

Wang Dafu slumped in his chair, voice trembling:

“Dad… if this song goes public, the entire Mandarin music industry’s kings and queens are going to be unemployed…”

Just as the final rehearsal ended and everyone was catching their breath, Qin Yue’s encrypted phone suddenly blared an alarm.

Her expression changed drastically. She stood up abruptly and held a tablet in front of Yu Xian, her usually calm voice trembling:

“Master Yu! Something big just happened! Lin Yaodong… that living fossil of the music industry—he’s live streaming!”

On the screen, Zhang Jieke stood beside a white-haired elder, smiling fawningly.

The old man faced the camera, his voice arrogant and cold, echoing through the yard:

“…As for that so-called ‘Master Yu’ who rose to fame through The Lonely Brave, he is nothing more than a clown seeking attention. I, Lin Yaodong, will personally arrive at Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School tomorrow. In a global livestream, I will peel off his so-called ‘genius’ mask layer by layer and show everyone what real music is—and what trash sounds like!”

A hall-of-fame legend! Global livestream! Public execution!

The air in the yard instantly dropped to freezing point.

Wang Dafu trembled so hard his teacup fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

“Dad… it’s over… it’s Lin Yaodong! He… he’s going to nail us to the pillar of shame in front of the entire country!”