A comment popped up in the livestream chat: "This village gala is pretty interesting, very creative. Most importantly, there are no lectures."

"Too bad there’s no crosstalk or skits."

"Well, it’s a village gala. The talent pool is limited, so we can’t be too demanding."

"Whoa, Brother Xiang is finally making his appearance! Is he going to play the drums?"

All eyes were on Li Xiang as he brought his Big Red Bullhide War Drum—the one big enough for a person to stand, no, lie down on—onto the stage. He actually could have carried it by himself, but Lei Jiaming insisted on helping, so the two of them carried it up together.

"Thank you all so much for your support. Thank you to my friends and neighbors, thank you to the fans in the livestream, and thank you for your encouragement and gifts. Next, I will be performing a piece I’ve carefully prepared for you all: *Qin King’s Battle Music*!"

With that, Li Xiang gave a slight bow, then picked up the Red Chestnut Wood Drum Stick. He took a moment to compose himself, his gaze turning resolute, and then began to beat the drum. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP...

The "King of Qin" in *Qin King’s Battle Music* refers to Tang Taizong, Li Shimin. "Qin" was his title before he ascended the throne and does not refer to the First Emperor. It is a type of martial dance (as opposed to a civil dance), originally performed at banquets and later used in sacrificial rites. A symbol of the Great Tang’s golden age, it possesses an extraordinary aura.

Li Shimin was the "Heavenly Khan," to whom envoys from all nations came to pay tribute. It is said that when this music was played, the great drums thundered, their sound carrying for over a hundred *li*. Their momentum was majestic and earth-shattering, causing even many foreign guests to dance with abandon, overcome with excitement.

"The Emperor’s grace covers the four seas, a thousand years of virtuous waters run clear; no more shall we don our armor, for today we announce our victory..."

As Li Xiang beat the drum and sang out, Lei Jiaming, Lei Xiaohui, and a few other young people from Lei Family Gully performed unarmed kung fu or sparred with short weapons behind and beside him, serving as backup dancers.

This was mainly because the stage wasn’t big enough. With so many people on it, there wasn’t enough room to wield long weapons.

And that wasn’t all. At that moment, the old-timers from the joint orchestra also began to play their string and wind instruments, providing accompaniment. Just drumbeats alone would have been a bit monotonous.

After all, the authentic *Qin King’s Battle Music* was also accompanied by the Great Tang imperial court orchestra.

In a trance, the audience seemed to see the golden age of the Great Tang, a world of blossoming prosperity.

This piece of music also spread to other countries in Asia. For example, during the reign of Wu Zetian, an envoy to the Tang court from Wa Country named Suzuki Shigehito brought *Qin King’s Battle Music* to Japan. To this day, Japan still preserves the surviving scores for nine different instrumental versions of *Qin King’s Battle Music*.

The reason why a lot of traditional Japanese music is more impressive than that of the Eastern Great Power today—and why it sounds so Chinese—is because they collected or plundered many precious musical scores. The Eastern Great Power, on the other hand, went through a century of turmoil and failed to pass down as many.

The most classic example is the *Forbidden City* trilogy—*Memories of the Forbidden City*, *Forbidden City Appearance*, and *Investigating the Origin of the Forbidden City*. They are the soundtrack to the documentary *The Forbidden City* by the Little Book’s NHK television station, a series about the five-thousand-year glory of Chinese civilization.

It’s worth mentioning that the Little Book is a tiny bit more "classy" than Korea. If it had been Korea, they probably would have just renamed it the "Cheongwadae" trilogy or the "Gyeongbok Palace" trilogy.

Li Xiang’s rendition of *Qin King’s Battle Music* had a huge impact on everyone. Gifts flooded the livestream chat, far more than for any previous performance.

Some of the older folks who didn’t understand asked around, "How much money can he make from this?"

A young person in the know explained it all—this gift is worth this much, that gift is worth that much—shocking everyone and making them all envious.

The older folks then sighed. No wonder all the young girls flocked to Li Xiang. First, he was rich; second, he was handsome.

As for whether he was a scumbag or not, no one had seen it firsthand. But looking at the situation, it would be hard for him *not* to be one.

Some of the men were envious. ’If I were Li Xiang, who cares about being a scumbag? I’d have a new girlfriend every day.’ Too bad it wasn’t them.

After his performance, Li Xiang bowed slightly, then took the microphone to act as the emcee: "Next, please enjoy a delightful performance of the intangible cultural heritage, Kung Fu Tea, brought to you by tea master Zhao Xueqing from Zhaojiaping."

He paused, then added, "Also, just to let you in on a little secret, that drumming performance wasn’t my only act. There’s more to come later, so please don’t leave!"

He had good eyesight and had glanced at the big screen, where someone had commented, "Brother Xiang has already performed, we can probably leave now."

Many people had come specifically for Li Xiang. Once his performance was over, they weren’t interested in the rest.

But as soon as Li Xiang said this, many people in the livestream became excited again. ’There’s more? I wonder how many more acts he has?’

Li Xiang and Lei Jiaming carried the Big Red Bullhide War Drum back down, returning it to the War Drum Pavilion. Then, Li Xiang took the opportunity to reply to some questions from fans in the livestream.

Meanwhile, the stage was left to Zhao Xueqing and her friends.

Just then, the beautiful music of "Spring Is Not Late" began to play. Zhao Xueqing walked onto the stage carrying a long-spouted bronze teapot. She had her hair up in a neat, high ponytail, her eyes were bright and her teeth pearly white, and her figure was long and graceful. She wore a white, ancient-style short jacket and a blue, brocaded horse-face skirt.

Her close friends coordinated with her, bringing a table and some tea utensils onto the stage.

The most eye-catching thing was, of course, the bronze teapot in Zhao Xueqing’s hand. It was polished to a shine, golden all over, with a capacity of about 2 liters, and its spout was at least a meter long. The pot was filled with boiling water between 85-90°C, yet Zhao Xueqing was handling it bare-handed, without gloves, making the performance extremely difficult.

This was because 85-90°C is the best temperature for brewing tea. Of course, different types of tea have different requirements for water temperature. Since today was just a performance, she had chosen a black tea, which is why she selected the 85-90°C range.