The security chief went to his office, where he had a guitar. It had been personally gifted to him by his boss, Natiwuzi, the year he was promoted to security chief. He had gotten someone to specially build a cabinet for him to keep the guitar like a treasure.
But was he really going to lend that guitar to that kid? He was a little reluctant. What if it was damaged? But on second thought, that kid was rich. If it was damaged, he would make the kid pay more.
He had only lent it out of consideration for Fang Zhao's professional information. If it had been anyone else, would he have been so kind as to lend out something he had been worshipping?!
He quickly brought the guitar to the room and handed it to Fang Zhao. "Be careful. This guitar is very expensive."
"What about the speakers?" Fang Zhao asked.
"I don't have any," the security chief replied. Back then, his boss had only given him this guitar. He had kept it in the cabinet ever since he had gotten it. This was the first time he had taken it out.
"You have to pay if you damage it," the security chief emphasized.
"Got it."
"Wait, you are just going to play it like this? Don't you need speakers or effects? "
Fang Zhao pointed to a nearby corner. "There is one over there."
"That's... Boss's stuff."
"Isn't that used for receiving guests?"
"I don't know."
The security chief did his best to recall. He did not come here often, but he would definitely drop by once a month. Sometimes it was to report on work, sometimes it was because of a certain area of the store. But no matter how many times he came, he had never seen anyone use those things in the corner, including the boss himself.
However, hearing Fang Zhao say this, the security chief had some doubts. Could it really be for guests?
After all, the boss's seat was slightly further from that corner. On the contrary, every time a guest or report came, they would sit at Fang Zhao's seat, which was closer to that corner.
While the security chief was still pondering, Fang Zhao had already connected the cable, tested the sound, made some simple adjustments to the speakers, and strummed out a melody.
And when Fang Zhao played this part, Natiwuzi paused for a moment. After Fang Zhao finished, he started again.
Fang Zhao listened, then turned to the security chief, who was still pretending to be a statue, and said, "I asked. He agreed to let me use these things."
The security captain: "…" I don't really understand you people who play music.
Carefully sizing up his boss's expression, he really did not discover any anger, nor did he have that unfocused gaze from before. He also noticed that when Fang Zhao had been playing just now, his boss had turned his head to look in his direction. His gaze was strange and somewhat complicated, but he had indeed not objected.
"Next, I will explain to him what happened in the performance hall. You can wait at the side." Fang Zhao sat down.
The security chief stood at the side. Every time he saw Natiwuzi play the guitar, he would be full of praise for his superb playing skills. Although he did not have any musical talent and could not understand the meaning behind the lyrics, he knew how to watch. "Space" often had people come over to perform the ancient electric guitar, but after seeing so many of them, he hadn't found anyone who could compare to their boss. But now, the security chief felt that he had really met someone impressive.
Both Fang Zhao and Natiwuzi did not use any effects equipment. Compared to the instruments Natiwuzi had played in his past performances, the sound quality of the guitars could not be considered exquisite, but it still had a very strong killing power. This also showed that the two of them had rather good control over their equipment.
Natiwuzi's zither and the one in Fang Zhao's hands were made from the same wood. The design of the pintles and neck were also similar. The zithers were probably from the same series and had been made by the same person or team. The chosen wood provided a fuller resonance in the lower register.
Natiwuzi played continuously in the lower register, like the thunder before a storm, as if he was suppressing his anger and questioning.
When Natiwuzi's side stopped, Fang Zhao paused for two seconds before resuming. Unlike Natiwuzi's continuous playing in the lower register, Fang Zhao played calmly with a hint of intensity.
After about half a minute, Fang Zhao stopped and looked at Natiwuzi.
At this moment, Natiwuzi was staring at Fang Zhao with a gloomy look in his eyes, as if dark clouds were roiling. The melody he was playing was also gloomy and oppressive, pressing forward step by step.
And what Fang Zhao gave was a response that did not take a breather, overbearing and unyielding.
A head-on clash!
This was what everyone else in the room felt.
The two people holding the guitars, you play a line, I play a paragraph, it really looks like two people talking. Gradually, the tempo became faster, and the melody became more and more impassioned.
The two seemed to have entered another realm as they immersed themselves in it. Everything around them — people, objects, everything — seemed to have become a decorative backdrop, a mural.
Actually, the moment Fang Zhao picked up the guitar, the atmosphere in the room changed. Everyone else seemed to have been transported to another world.
Everyone else in the room had blank expressions.
Don't understand!
Don't understand!
They just felt that these two were pretty good at playing the guitar. They played more and more intensely. They had never heard these phrases before, but it did not seem like they were playing randomly. The pressure on their auditory nerves was immense, but it was different from the disgust of noise. It was more like their ears could not keep up with the speed of the music and their thoughts. For example, using inferior headphones and sound equipment to listen to a high-tech song in the wrong mode was the same as listening to it. All the essence of the music was blocked out. They could only hear the gist of it, but they could not guess it or figure out what exactly was going on.
They finally understood why people said that great artists lived in another dimension. At this moment, they felt as if they were not in the physical world they were familiar with.
Were these two really having a conversation? Just based on two guitars?
How mystical. It felt like they had not grown up on this planet. Or were these two aliens? Could it be that these two did not live in normal human society?
The security chief recalled that he had once heard someone mention it. It seemed to be a band that had come to perform in Space. They had said that when their band performed, it was actually a dialogue between the instruments. Whatever the rhythm and melody of the instruments in the hands of their teammates, they would be able to give the most appropriate response.
Looking at Fang Zhao, other than the few pauses at the start, Natiwuzi would follow up almost every time he stopped. It was as if he had rehearsed it in advance!
Are these two familiar with each other?
This kid has never been here before, right? He has never met Natiwuzi before, right? I've never heard of these two practicing together. How can they play the piano so well? It was as if they knew the other party would stop at that moment and continue seamlessly.
Other than that, there was also that playing technique. Where did this kid Fang Zhao learn it from? Self-study or apprenticeship under a famous teacher?
There was no need to mention Natiwuzi. He was Yanzhou's Shadowless Hands, a master. When ancient electric guitars were mentioned, there was no one who did not know him. Many big-name singers had personally sought him out to collaborate.
But Fang Zhao? His playing technique was actually just as adept!
Had anyone in the ancient instrument circles heard of this person? What was even more astonishing was how old he was!
The surrounding bodyguards looked at Fang Zhao in a different light, especially those who had been with Natiwuzi for a long time. Even if they did not understand, it did not prevent them from coming to a conclusion: this kid is amazing! He can actually face Natiwuzi head on!
Natiwuzi's expression was no longer as gloomy as before. Instead, his gaze sharpened. His face was flushed from the intense playing, and the muscles on his cheeks were trembling.
Seeing this, the security chief and the other bodyguards in the room thought to themselves, Boss isn't in a good mood. Is he going to flip out?
Just as they thought this, they saw Natiwuzi's body sway as he stood up abruptly like an enraged bird of prey. His eyes were spitting fire, and the power of his rapid strumming was unleashed at full force!
Under Natiwuzi's hawk-like gaze, Fang Zhao stood up calmly and responded with an even faster and more intense tune, showing no signs of weakness.
It was as if there were countless invisible blades in the air, and the tune poured down like a torrential rain! It was as if a formless hurricane had been set off in the small room!
The security chief felt as if he could hear the angry roar of the sea, the sound of high waves crashing against solid rock walls.
Everyone else in the room was dumbstruck as they watched these two performers who seemed to have descended into madness.
The speed at which they were playing was still increasing. The two were like two powerful machines that had lost control. The music they played was rapid and violent, and the temperature in the room rose by a few degrees.
Natiwuzi's flushed face was contorted, as if he had descended into madness.
In comparison, other than Fang Zhao's fingers playing like the wind, he appeared much calmer. Of course, this calmness was only on the surface.
The high-speed movements of his fingers were difficult to capture with the naked eye, but they were not like those youngsters on the internet who were foolishly playing. They could still hear the rhythm, and they were able to move their fingers accurately at such speeds. It was clear that their skills were superb!
This skill!
In the room, other than the two performers, everyone else was frozen like statues. They stood there motionless, as if they would be scalded if they moved. They even forgot to breathe.
Fortunately, this suffocating atmosphere did not last long. After Fang Zhao's storm-like strumming, Natiwuzi did not continue. Instead, he hugged his guitar and stood there, panting. The crazed look on his face had already disappeared, and he looked at Fang Zhao with sparkling eyes. There was no gloominess or anger, just pure excitement and joy.
"Hahahahaha!"
Natiwuzi shook the sweat off his face and laughed heartily, as if he was a battle-hungry warrior who had just experienced a hearty battle.
Following Natiwuzi's laughter, the intense atmosphere in the room, which had seemed like it was about to explode, dissipated in an instant. That strange feeling of being dragged into another world finally returned to normal. The storm had passed, and the sky was clear after the rain.
The security chief wiped his trembling fingers and discovered that his forehead was covered in a fine layer of sweat. He let out a long sigh of relief. How was this an exchange of musical instruments? This was simply an impromptu quarrel! However, this boss seemed to be having a good time arguing.
After laughing, Natiwuzi looked at Fang Zhao and said, "You, very good!"
Fang Zhao replied with a smile, "You too, very good."
It was unknown which of Fang Zhao's words had struck a funny chord in Natiwuzi, but Natiwuzi laughed heartily once again.
Natiwuzi fished out a pen as thick as a thumb from his pocket and signed a flamboyant name on the guitar — Natiwuzi.
Those who were familiar with Natiwuzi knew that he would only sign this name in front of his close friends, family, or people he truly valued and acknowledged. At other times, he would either not sign or sign "Natiwuzi."
This guitar was the one that Natiwuzi had used the longest after he stopped performing in public. It had been made with a large sum of money. Unlike the guitars he used in his performances, this guitar was not specially made for Natiwuzi.
Natiwuzi had invested in a vintage electric guitar manufacturing company. This guitar was the most high-end model in a line of products suitable for the general public. It was specially used to advertise his own company.
Natiwuzi handed over the guitar he had signed. "This guitar is for you." He then passed the pen to Fang Zhao and pointed to the guitar that Fang Zhao had placed at the side. "You sign it too."
Natiwuzi spoke slowly, but every word seemed to carry a heavy bass, each word slamming down heavily. Anyone who heard Natiwuzi speak for the first time would feel a sense of discomfort.
Fang Zhao had seen some of Natiwuzi's performances and short interview videos in the past, so he knew that this was how Natiwuzi spoke. However, what Natiwuzi said next surprised Fang Zhao.
"This is his." Fang Zhao pointed to the security chief, who was wiping his sweat off.
"From now on, it isn't." Natiwuzi enunciated each word clearly. "Waste."
Security chief: "..." Does this mean that leaving the guitar in his office is a waste?
Fang Zhao took the pen and signed the two words "Fang Zhao" on the security chief's guitar. Unlike Natiwuzi's flamboyant signature, Fang Zhao's wasn't as sloppy and was more precise.
Natiwuzi's wrinkled face, which looked like it had been through the vicissitudes of life, was smiling. This boss was really happy today.
After receiving the guitar, Natiwuzi took a selfie with Fang Zhao before carefully placing the guitar to the side. His smile faded as he said to Fang Zhao, "It's already very late. I will get someone to send you back first. I will give you an explanation for this matter."
Natiwuzi spoke slowly, but every word was clear and full of sincerity. This meant that he would investigate tonight's matter thoroughly. If there was any inside story, he would definitely give Fang Zhao an explanation.
"Many thanks," Fang Zhao said.
Natiwuzi waved his hand. He didn't say anything unnecessary. After getting someone to send Fang Zhao off, only the security chief and a few trusted aides were left in the room.
The smile on Natiwuzi's face vanished completely. A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he asked slowly, "Where are the people who were beaten up?"
The security chief stepped forward and replied respectfully, "In the medical room, but they are being restrained by our people."
Natiwuzi leaned back on the sofa, his eyes closed as if he was resting. He slowly spat out three words. "Drag them over!"
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