I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 861 - 861 860. Great Musician

Chapter 861: 860. Great Musician Chapter 861: 860. Great Musician Bitter melon is bitter melon.

As long as it tastes good, even “Bug Legs” wouldn’t be a problem.

Lu Ban peeled away the charred chitin shell and saw the collageneous bug flesh inside that had solidified due to the high heat. The meat emitted a fragrant aroma, tempting people to take big bites.

Lu Ban tore off a steaming hot piece of meat and put it in his mouth.

Chew, chew.

After taking a bite, Lu Ban regretted it.

It tasted awful.

Although it looked appetizing on the surface, it was truly unpalatable, like a piece of KFC original recipe chicken that looked perfect, but when you bit into it, it turned out to be a disappointing store brand chicken leg, like you’d gulped down an icy Coke and then realized it was toilet cleaner.

Lu Ban noticed the waiter’s gaze, and he forcefully controlled his facial muscles from twitching and kept from vomiting, swallowing the bug meat with great difficulty.

“If you need more, I can get some for you.”

The teenage girl, who was a waitress, said with a smile.

“I need to digest a little first.”

Lu Ban declined her offer.

Watching the waitress depart, Lu Ban quickly hid and dry-heaved twice, but sadly the bug legs he had eaten were already in his stomach. Unless he reached down his throat, they wouldn’t come out.

“Doesn’t taste good?”

Feng Yu asked upon seeing this.

“Tastes worse than you.”

Lu Ban answered honestly.

“…”

Feng Yu looked at him with a smile brimming in her eyes.

Lu Ban hurriedly took another bite of the bug legs from his plate.

“Indeed, you’re still the more unpalatable one.”

He corrected himself.

Feng Yu wanted to say something, but there was a commotion from nearby.

“Mr. Du is here.”

Watching the group of “Elders,” all in their teens or twenties, craning their necks and peering with curiosity, Lu Ban suddenly found it somewhat funny.

At the entrance of the hall, Du Danping walked in wearing a robe of classical style. He greeted everyone, and many people returned his greetings, like that of a respected elder. It seemed that all factions were on good terms with him, each giving him due respect.

Du Danping made his way to the side of the hall, beside a piano.

The piano was clearly an excavated relic, its painted surface long since flaked and patchy. Who knows how long it took to restore it; it stood there as if it were a “Singer” who had outlasted the old era and stood alone in this world.

Du Danping sat down at the piano.

Lu Ban did not know if anyone in this world still knew how to play the piano, but he was well aware that no one in today’s Wasteland, not even the most artistically gifted, could rival even a fraction of Du Danping’s talent.

Du Danping’s fingers were placed on the keys, and he tested out a couple of notes.

The piano’s tune was not accurate. As an instrument left over from an old era, producing sound was the best it could do.

But just as a great “Musician” could create a wondrous melody using a ruler and a calculator, under the hands of “Musician” Du Danping, the piano bursts forth with a surprisingly enchanting tune.

The music, like flowing water, meandered through his fingertips, the intoxicating melody lingering in the hall. On this wasteland, there was now a momentary peace.

If music had magical powers, then Du Danping at this moment was indeed a “Magician,” capable of transporting people into the Illusion Realm, to become utterly enchanted.

Lu Ban had no doubt that if Du Danping wished, he could use this music to control hearts, overturn situations, and even control Pollution, stopping Mutation.

Such was the power beyond the ordinary.

The song had ended, and the audience had even forgotten to applaud, as if they were still intoxicated by the imagery the music had instilled, unable to extricate themselves for a long time.

Lu Ban subconsciously finished eating the roasted Bug Leg on his plate.

“Great Musician.”

A young man clapped and said.

The others gradually snapped out of their trance and followed with applause.

Amidst the applause, Du Danping offered another song, filled with melancholy, that plunged the crowd into another bout of wistfulness.

As the music ended, Du Danping stood up, and soon several female Senate members surrounded him, eagerly discussing the topic of music.

Du Danping interacted with them with gentlemanly grace, said goodbye to the ladies, and then turned his attention to Lu Ban.

Lu Ban held a cup in his hand, which contained a beverage from the Wasteland.

“This is mead brewed from a type of bug called ‘honey bugs’.”

The female server explained.

“Oh, just like honey wine.”

Lu Ban took a sip, the taste of alcohol was mild, but it had an odd flavor. Although it wasn’t as unpalatable as Feng Yu’s cooking, it was not particularly tasty either.

“It’s brewed from the liquid secreted after the honey bugs consume other insects.”

The server added.

“So it’s essentially…”

Lu Ban glanced at the half-transparent liquid in his cup.

Life in the Wasteland was truly hard.

He discreetly put the cup down when no one was paying attention.

“How do you find the banquet?”

Du Danping approached Lu Ban and asked.

“Everything tasted pretty bad.”

Lu Ban spoke honestly.

“Haha, indeed, the dietary habits here are different from those in other Foreign Domains, but once you get used to it, you can still appreciate some of the flavors.”

Du Danping chuckled lightly and, as he spoke, picked up a meatball made from a bug’s eyeball and chewed it in his mouth.

“Is it through music that you gain the favor of others?”

Feng Yu was not interested in the food; she watched Du Danping’s group of little fan-girls and asked.

“Are you referring to the use of extraordinary abilities to manipulate people’s hearts?”

Du Danping glanced at the fan-girls and gave them a smile.

“I indeed can use music to achieve such things, but at least in the Wasteland, I have not done so. Those Saints can sense extraordinary powers, and if I had tried to beguile them with music from the beginning, I would not be standing here now.”

“Cultural perceptions differ across Foreign Domains, but at least in the Wasteland, music is universal. They’ve abandoned much for survival, including art and music, but that sense of feeling and resonance remains in their genes. When the melodies of old are played, they are naturally moved.”

Hearing Du Danping’s words, Feng Yu fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

“Yet music alone shouldn’t be enough to convince those Senate members.”

Just as in reality, even if a person sings well, they wouldn’t entrust their future and life to them — in the end, compared to survival, art is but a luxury.

“Music is just a means to close the distance. In the Wasteland, the fundamental reason for improving your relationships with others is to demonstrate your value.”

Du Danping said.

“And it’s for this reason that the academy’s pursuits are hard to understand; because the exploration of the past doesn’t translate directly into immediate usable value. So far, the things people have excavated from ruins haven’t played their intended roles, like that piano — if I had not taken notice, it probably would have just been discarded amidst the trash, unnoticed.”

He looked towards a group talking quietly not far away and pointed in that direction.

“As it happens, let me introduce you to the leader of this city, the Saint of Utopia. His name is Plato.”