The noise in the hall disappeared in an instant. The silence was so profound that one could hear a pin drop. Only the sound of the zither echoed.
Nangong Haitang was about to mock Chen Yang, but at this moment, he felt a hollow in his throat, unable to utter a single word. His palms were sweaty; he was shocked by Chen Yang's performance. Damn, this didn't at all seem like someone who didn't understand zither skill!
Wiping, plucking, hooking, pricking, striking, picking, splitting, and supporting - Chen Yang mastered the techniques of the ancient zither without a teacher. His fingers moved as fast and accurate as a sewing machine, leaving afterimages with each movement.
The movements were extremely fluent and magnificent, the rhythm seemed innate, and the zither's sound burst forth!
