The first program of the evening was quite ordinary, a grand dance in the style of The East, with won in flowing wide-sleeved fairy dresses spinning on the golden Full Moon stage, while lanterns floated across the ceiling of the hall.
Their sleeves and skirts rotated together, blooming like Gilded Flowers on the stage, then they stopped and stood, their hands lightly lifted as if boneless, gently swaying side to side, their figures rippling like water waves, showcasing their grace and charm, exhibiting a uniform and stunning beauty.
After the first performance concluded, the second act turned even more captivating.
It began with the light sound of the Wooden Xylophone, followed by the serene lody of a saxophone, interspersed with faint chis, transporting the audience into a distant realm.
Here, amidst the swaying storm and deep bamboo groves, a gentle breeze whispered across the stage as a Swordsman in white silently stepped forward.
As the music's tempo increased, another figure clad in black opposite the Swordsman appeared, also carrying a Longsword, his expression cold and silent.
The saxophone's lody turned sorrowfully sweet again, accompanied quietly by the Wooden Xylophone. The two combated on stage purely with their swordsmanship.
As the fisherman's song echoed at dusk, the blade glinted coldly. Their figures interlaced, the sword light seemingly swift yet possessing an unbelievably fluid agility. Each move was clear and structured, as if within these mundane sword strikes, lay unimaginable Sword Intent and calculations.
With the music soaring lodiously, their sword moves evolved from simple to complex; one mont they flashed briefly like a startled swan, the next they soared and whirled like dragons.
Finally, as the music ceased, both stood again at either side of the stage. The bamboo backdrop shattered layer by layer, the bamboo leaves sliced by the swords rising in the wind, dispersing off the stage. With this gust of bamboo wind, both disappeared from the spectators' view.
The third act featured a solo performance primarily of Nan Xiao.
As the sound of raindrops on the xylophone began, the curtain on the stage drew back, revealing a man in ash-gray robes sitting cross-legged on a rock, playing the Nan Xiao. Its sound was lonely and sorrowful, as mournful as sobbing; just from this unique tone, one could envision an old man caressing cracked dry wood, gazing towards a distant sunset path, walking slowly and heavily.
Although the music was full of sorrow, within it also lurked a defiant resolution never to regret; the loneliness and the desperation of reaching an end, though all hopes were crushed, still, within the ashes, one could spot a few unquenched sparks of Mars, captivating the audience for a long ti, montarily letting tears fall.
As the performance concluded, passionate applause erupted throughout the venue, the spectators profoundly moved by such a morable performance.
Afterward, the stage took a brief intermission before the grand finale by the two Songstresses.
Bright red lights were switched on, shining over the stage, then the curtain opened, revealing a black and red backdrop with a painting of a girl standing on a mountain peak, flas and hair swirling around her in the dark sky, resembling the solitary Fla of Hong Lian.
First ca the strains of an electric guitar, followed by the beat of drums, and then, as if stepping to a rhythm of tallic clashing tones, Prin wearing a red and black dress and holding a guitar strutted onto the stage, trailed by several team mbers of a similar style.
The band mbers, both male and female, wore baseball caps and sunglasses, concealing their faces and personalities, leaving all the spotlight for the central Songstress.
"The river that flows on parched lands"
"The last trump card in a lost ga"
"The heart that beats in an iron chest"
"The sole oasis in the scorched earth"
"I try my best to keep my balance"
"Dancing on the blade's edge"
...
"The hope for a new life burns within us"
"The heart that beats in an iron chest"
"The sole oasis in the scorched earth"
"Reminding us what we fight for here"
...
"Carve rivers in the desert!"
"My heart burns hot as a furnace"
"The battlefield sears like hell"
Prin's toes seed to tap on flathrowers, with her singing loud and high-priced, the red and black flas waved through the venue like ripples of a sea, bringing an agonizing pleasure of dryness and scorching, as if both throttle and brake were simultaneously pressed, unleashing utmost unrestrained dancing.
As the song ended, passionate applause once again filled the venue, celebrating this rare performance.
The last to take the stage was Audrey, who sat in front of an ancient zither, dressed in radiant snowy robes as if clean and pristine as snow, her fingertips gently touching it, followed by her lips lightly parting to sing lodiously.
In contrast with Prin Coco's performance, her song carried a lingering nostalgia and soft chants, relaxing the audience, allowing them to flow freely among the mountains and rivers, like geese heading south, witnessing the reedy banks, and the snowy hotown along the way. (Song: "Southward Geese")
As the performance concluded, although the music stopped, the audience still seed to want more, as if trying to hold onto the slowly passing clouds in their mories.
After the performance, the curtain gradually fell, thus bringing the campus' 'Autumn Moon Lantern Festival' towards its conclusion.
Despite lacking scores, many still felt Audrey's act was better; perhaps not as difficult or grand as Prin's, but in terms of mood and suiting the festival's atmosphere, it was more comfortable and fitting.
"It seems Audrey has co to terms with it, no longer overshadowed by Prin," a familiar voice spoke up next to Tilan's group.
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