The Almighty Martial Arts System

How brilliant Jiang Fei’s performance was no longer needed any elaboration. The reactions of the over 40,000 fans in the audience said it all.

After the rendition of Ninth Symphony, even the most die-hard fans of Qiao Yiyi and Quan Yingran were utterly conquered. Gone were the plans for a “black ocean” protest or silent resistance—instead, they erupted into cheers, now convinced that Jiang Fei and Qiao Yiyi were a match made in heaven.

After all, even if these young fans knew little about piano or music, they weren’t fools. They could still recognize extraordinary talent when they saw it.

Jiang Fei’s piano skills were nothing short of transcendent—so mesmerizing that the music seemed to linger in the air long after it ended. It was the kind of performance that belonged in the heavens, a rare treasure on earth!

This level of mastery wasn’t just Asia-worthy; it placed him among the world’s elite. And let’s not forget the inherent prestige of the piano—a pianist, especially one of this caliber, naturally commanded more respect than a singer. Pianists were often hailed as artists, but how many singers earned that title?

Now, who would dare look down on Jiang Fei?

Who could still dismiss him as a spoiled, talentless rich kid?

Anyone who tried to stir trouble now, claiming Jiang Fei wasn’t good enough for Qiao Yiyi, would be seen as a paid provocateur—and risked being mobbed by the genuine fans.

Even the backstage crew, including Qiao Yiyi’s usually domineering manager, “Auntie Mei,” had to admit: inviting Jiang Fei as a guest was the right call. His godlike performance elevated the concert from a typical pop show to a world-class, artistic spectacle. Once footage of this spread, no one would dare smear Qiao Yiyi online again.

At least, no one could accuse her of being a gold-digger dating some bureaucrat’s son. Jiang Fei’s talent was the ultimate rebuttal: if Qiao Yiyi did choose him, it wasn’t for wealth or status—it was for his brilliance.

And when love was about talent, not money, even skeptics softened. The 40,000 fans in the stadium? They’d already embraced Jiang Fei.

Honestly, even Auntie Mei privately thought: If Yiyi really ends up with him… I might just support it. The man was undeniably magnetic. Now, her focus shifted to leveraging tonight’s triumph for a media comeback.

Meanwhile, the guest performers—Mandopop queen Teresa Liang and the boy band Big Bang—lingered backstage. Teresa was awestruck, but Big Bang’s members, especially their leader Quan Yingran, squirmed in humiliation. Earlier, Quan had sneered at Jiang Fei, insisting he wasn’t fit for Qiao Yiyi. Now? He fled before Jiang Fei returned, sparing himself further shame.

As the concert neared its end, Jiang Fei swapped his dapper tailcoat for casual wear—it was stylish, but a bit too flashy for his taste.

“Mr. Jiang, hello!” A sweet, distinctive voice called out.

He turned to find Teresa Liang smiling at him.

“Hello,” Jiang Fei shook her hand politely. Once a fan of her music, he never imagined meeting her like this.

“Your performance was breathtaking. I’m officially your fan now!” Teresa gushed, starstruck.

“Oh, the honor’s mine. I still have your songs on my phone,” Jiang Fei chuckled, flattered. The irony wasn’t lost on him: a superstar fangirling over him? It felt even better than the crowd’s roar.

They exchanged numbers (her private one, no less) before parting. Clearly, Teresa was sincere in her admiration.

…

Post-Jiang Fei, the concert’s energy never dipped. Fans clamored for an encore, chanting for him to return.

“Oh no. Oh no no no,” muttered Xia Xiaozhi, watching Qiao Yiyi’s radiant stage presence. The once-adoring fan now saw a rival.

“She’s totally into Uncle Jiang! What do we do?” fretted Xu Jing, puffing her cheeks. Her usual confidence (read: bust advantage) wavered against a superstar love interest.

“Pfft. Congrats on having such elite competition!” teased Tan Yuan. “But hey—there’s a simple solution. Next time you’re at his place… just ‘accidentally’ sneak into his bed. With your looks, he won’t resist!”

“TAN YUAN!” The girls turned scarlet, swatting at her. “You—you do it first!”

Yet beneath the outrage, a flicker of curiosity lingered…

Meanwhile, Lin Moli maintained her CEO composure, though inwardly seething: Great. Now another woman’s in the picture. Can’t he stop being such a peacock?