058 This Qing Bell Actually Has a Serial Number!? (Please Add to Your Favorites)

“National Antiquities Collection Museum?”

“No way, even the National Antiquities Collection Museum is getting involved?”

“Is this... for real?”

The moment those words appeared, netizens were stunned. Many scrolled back to check, and in the next second, everyone’s expressions froze in disbelief—right after “National Antiquities Museum” was a dazzling golden verified badge!

This was an official account!

“What on earth is going on?”

“A hundred million RMB? Is it really that expensive?”

“No way, is this chime really that extraordinary?”

Initial astonishment at the museum’s involvement quickly shifted, as everyone’s focus locked onto the phrase “a hundred million RMB” mentioned by the National Antiquities Museum.

A hundred million—a staggering figure. Many spend their entire lives barely reaching a million, and even seeing ten million is rare enough. A hundred million as a currency unit is almost mythical. For a single musical instrument to be worth that much—utterly terrifying!

While most netizens were reeling at the astronomical price of the instrument in Su Yunjin’s hands, a few experts began to speak up.

“You guys don’t really think the museum showed up just to confirm the price, do you?”

“Exactly. A hundred million RMB sounds high to most, but among the wealthy, it’s not beyond reach.”

“That’s right. Collector X is well-known in the field, but notice how he hasn’t said a word? That’s because the instrument Su Yunjin holds is registered with a serial number!”

“A serial number? What does that mean?”

“Are you saying this is officially registered?”

Once again, the netizens were floored. For the moment, they even forgot to listen to Su Yunjin’s singing. The information they’d just received was enough to shatter their worldview: a hundred-million-yuan instrument was already impressive, but now someone claimed it was registered with the National Antiquities Museum.

This meant it wasn’t simply a priceless instrument—it was a cultural relic. To perform with a relic on stage—had everyone gone mad?

“Who is this person to have such status?”

“Could it be borrowed from the museum?”

“I’m starting to wonder too. Does Su Yunjin really have such a powerful backer?”

Astonishment. Disbelief.

A faint sense of indignation simmered.

Amidst this swirl of emotions, the song “Mountains, Waters, Wind, and Moon” moved into its chorus.

“The mountain wind whirls—”

“The birds cry—”

“The water—gurgling—”

At the chorus, Su Yunjin and Tan Linfang took turns singing. Previously, people had already been captivated by Su Yunjin’s onomatopoeic parts in the song, the kind of beauty that left one speechless. Now, with Tan Linfang joining in, the difference was palpable.

In both breath control and vocal prowess, Su Yunjin was simply leagues ahead; Tan Linfang even struggled to keep up toward the end.

“I have to say, Su Yunjin is truly exceptional.”

“You can tell at a glance—didn’t we already realize this earlier?”

“But if Su Yunjin is really performing with a relic, that’s rather inappropriate.”

Because of the museum’s involvement, many viewers couldn’t put aside their unease about the ancient chime in Su Yunjin’s hands, to the point of barely being able to listen to the song at all.

Just then, the duet was drawing to its close. As the stage lights slowly brightened, there were three successive buzzes—Tan Zhigao, Zhang Yingcai, and Gao Linlin all pressed the early evaluation button in quick succession.

The sight left both the audience and participants gasping.

Fortunately, the host remained calm, graciously exchanging pleasantries with the three distinguished judges after their hasty intervention.

Then the floor was given to Gao Linlin.

This national master musician and living treasure wasted no time: “May I ask, Ms. Su, is that a chime you’re holding?”

They knew nothing of the online uproar, but with their years of musical experience, all three recognized that the chime Su Yunjin held was anything but ordinary. Gao Linlin’s first instinct was to confirm whether this pure, resounding chime was truly extraordinary.

“Yes, it is,” Su Yunjin nodded.

“May I have a look?”

Su Yunjin didn’t hesitate, stepping forward to hand the chime over, remaining nearby while the three experts examined it.

After careful inspection and a tap or two, all three faces seemed to light up on camera. They exchanged glances, and in that instant, they all understood each other perfectly.

“Young lady, how much are you asking for this chime? I’d like to buy it,” Gao Linlin blurted out almost reflexively.

Tan Zhigao chimed in, “Me too. I’m willing to offer a high price.”

“Professor Gao, Professor Tan, have you forgotten why we’re here?” Zhang Yingcai interjected. “We’re here to give critiques!” But in the next moment, he too said, “I’d also like to buy it. I can offer double the price.”

These three titans of the music world were now openly competing on stage, a spectacle that viewers found familiar in the livestream, but which left the live audience and contestants utterly dumbfounded.

For a moment, everyone froze in disbelief—including the host. What was happening? Weren’t they supposed to be critiquing? How had it turned into a bidding war for an instrument?

Wang Tao, Shao Xinghui, Luo Zhen, and Liang Feiyue all stared in utter bewilderment. These three luminaries represented the highest national authority; by all accounts, they knew the rules of the stage better than anyone. And yet, not only were they breaking the rules, they were doing so in unison. It was truly shocking.

A buzz of conversation erupted as the cameras zeroed in on Su Yunjin. She, however, simply smiled, her eyes crescent-shaped, calm and unruffled.

There was a gentle, ethereal grace about her, as if untouched by the mundane world. Dressed in an herbalist’s robe, she seemed almost an outsider to the commotion, but as everyone reeled in shock, she spoke up.

“I’m sorry, professors, but this is a family heirloom. It’s not for sale.”

“I can offer an even higher price,” insisted Gao Linlin.

At that, Tan Zhigao added, “We’re not seeking it for personal gain, but to see it housed in the National Antiquities Collection Museum.”

With discerning eyes, all three immediately recognized the chime as a cultural relic. What baffled them was why such an artifact was in the hands of an unknown performer like Su Yunjin.

As founders of the nation’s musical establishment, they saw it as their duty to safeguard such treasures. Above all, it was a matter of patriotism at its most fundamental.

To those who understood, a cultural relic was priceless and irreplaceable; to those who did not, it might appear worthless.