The lute's uniquely bright and clear timbre, imbued with rapid, fierce granularity, echoed throughout the venue.
Shi Mei's eyes were closed; she was utterly oblivious to the emotions of the audience below.
Having not touched the lute for too long, Shi Mei did not feel the slightest bit of awkwardness.
As a child, she had been coerced by her grandmother into practicing the instrument.
The lute was the only musical instrument that had accompanied her since she was four years old.
This piece was her grandmother's most proud repertoire.
Shi Mei did not need to look at the strings to find any note with ease.
The style of the music gradually turned more piercing, with emphatic contrasts and pauses.
It was as if the great battle of past years reappeared in her mind, surrounded by enemies on all sides, with danger lurking everywhere.
Suddenly, it was as if thousands of swords were unsheathed concurrently, and warriors clashed in battle.
