Chapter 152: Improvised Quarrel

Translator: BeetleBarker Editor: Tennesh

The security chief headed to his own office. He had a guitar inside, which had been given personally by the boss when he had been promoted. He had gotten a display cabinet installed and kept his treasured guitar inside.

Was he really going to lend this guitar to that youngster? He was unwilling to give it up. What if it got damaged? But when he thought about it, the youngster was rich. If it was really damaged, he could get Fang Zhao to compensate more.

It was only because he had seen Fang Zhao's information that he was willing to lend it out. If it was anyone else, would he have been so kind as to give it up?!

He quickly brought the guitar back into the room and handed it over to Fang Zhao. "Be careful, this guitar is expensive."

"What about the amplifier and the rest?" Fang Zhao asked.

"There isn't any," the chief answered. Back then, the boss had only gifted the guitar. Ever since he had received it, it had been kept in the display cabinet. Today was the first time it had been taken out. The security chief warned him once again, "If you damage it, you have to pay."

"I know."

"Wait a minute, you are just going to play it like this? Don't you need the amplifiers, effects pedals, and whatnot?"

Fang Zhao pointed at a not-too-distant corner. "Over there."

"That is... Boss's stuff."

"Isn't that meant for receiving guests?"

"I don't know." The security chief tried his hardest to recall. He did not come here that often, but he would surely come here a few times a month, sometimes to give reports, other times when matters occured in a certain area of the nightclub. However, all the times he had visited this room, he had never seen anyone using the equipment in that corner, including the boss himself.

But hearing what Fang Zhao had said, the chief felt a little skeptical. Could it really be for guests to use?

After all, where the boss was sitting was slightly further away from that corner, whereas every time there were guests or anyone giving their reports, the person would always sit where Fang Zhao was, which was closer to the corner.

As the chief was pondering, Fang Zhao had already connected the cables, tested the sound, adjusted the amplifier, and played out a single chord.

And when Fang Zhao played the chord, Natiwuzi's tune paused slightly. When Fang Zhao finished, only then did he continue.

Fang Zhao listened to it and turned his head over to the statue-like security chief. "I just asked; your boss has approved of me using this equipment."

Security chief: "..." I don't really understand these people who dabble in music.

Carefully observing his boss's expression, there was really no anger, and the dazed look he'd had was no longer there. The chief also realized that, when Fang Zhao had played, the boss had even turned his head over, and there was a strange look in his eyes. It was somewhat complex, but clearly there was no disapproval in his eyes.

"I'm going to explain the matter that happened in the dance hall to your boss. Wait to the side first." Fang Zhao sat down after speaking.

Every time the security chief saw Natiwuzi playing the guitar, he would praise it to the high heavens. Although he did not know many musical cells and could not understand the meaning expressed in the song, he knew how to watch. There were frequent ancient-guitar performances at Space, and he had seen many, but he had never seen anyone who could compare with the boss. But now, the security chief felt that they had encountered an impressive one this time.

Both Fang Zhao and Natiwuzi were not using the effects pedals. The guitar tones could be comparable to Natiwuzi's performances back then, though not as delicate, but they harnessed an intense destructive power. This meant to say that the two of them had firm control over their equipment.

The guitars in the hands of Natiwuzi and Fang Zhao were both made from the same sort of wood, and they were of similar design and shape. The two guitars were probably from the same series, manufactured by the same person or team. The wood that had been used provided a fuller bass and resonance.

The bass tune that came from Natiwuzi's side was like the impending thunder from an approaching tempest, seemingly restraining the fury that was about to burst out in his interrogation.

And when Natiwuzi stopped, Fang Zhao paused for two seconds before resuming. Unlike Natiwuzi's tune, this one was peaceful yet intense.

At this moment, Natiwuzi stared at Fang Zhao. His eyes were full of gloom, like dark clouds gathering. The tune he played was gloomy and getting more stifling by the minute.

Fang Zhao's reply was instant, without time for a breather. His response was strong and unyielding.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object!

This was what the others in the room thought.

The two men holding onto guitars, taking turns to play a tune, really seemed like they were engaged in a dialogue. Gradually, the tempo became quicker and the melody more impassioned.

The two appeared as if they had entered another realm and were completely immersed in it. The other people and objects in their surroundings had just become ornaments in the background.

Actually, the moment Fang Zhao had picked up the guitar to play a tune, the atmosphere of the room had changed, as if everyone in the room had been shifted to another world.

Puzzled looks were on the faces of everyone else in the room.

Makes no sense!

Can't understand!

They just felt that the skills of the two guitarists were very good and the strumming was getting more and more intense. They had never heard these chords before, but it did not sound random. Hearing it placed a large strain on their nerves, but it was not jarring. It was more like their hearing ability could not keep up to the speed and caliber. As if using shoddy earpieces and sound equipment to listen to a high-quality masterpiece, the most essential parts would be hampered and they could not get the clear picture.

They finally understood why people thought that great masters seemed to be from a different dimension. In their absent-minded state, they felt as if this scene was not from the world they were familiar with.

Are these two really having a conversation? Just using guitars?

How mysterious. It made them feel as if these two had not grown up on this planet, or perhaps the two were aliens? Could it be that these two did not live in normal human society?

The security chief had once heard from someone, probably a certain band that had come to perform at Space, that during their performance, it was actually the instruments communicating. Whatever sort of melody was produced by a band member's instrument, the others could reply with the most appropriate answer.

Looking at Fang Zhao, other than the few pauses during the first few chords, he would pick up as soon as Natiwuzi stopped, as though they had practiced together before!

This fellow had not come here before, right? He had never met Natiwuzi? Never had the two practiced before today, so how could they flow so smoothly? Even to the point where they knew when the other party was going to stop and continue on so seamlessly?

Other than that, there was still that skill with the guitar. Where had Fang Zhao, that young fellow, learned it from? By himself, or under the guidance of a master?

There was no need to doubt Natiwuzi, Yanzhou's Shadowless Hands, who had the rank of a great master. Whenever ancient electric guitars were mentioned, everyone would know who he was. In the past, many popular singers had personally invited him to collaborate.

But Fang Zhao? His skill with the guitar was actually as adept!

Had anyone heard of this person before in the ancient-instruments circle? What was more astonishing was how old he was!

The surrounding bodyguards viewed Fang Zhao in a different light, especially those bodyguards that had been with Natiwuzi for a longer time. Even if they could not understand what they were hearing, that did not prevent them from coming to a conclusion: this young fellow was impressive! To think he could actually face Natiwuzi head on!

Natiwuzi's expression was no longer as gloomy. His gaze was more incisive and his face was becoming increasingly flushed from the playing of the guitar as his cheeks trembled.

Upon seeing this, the security chief and the other bodyguards thought to themselves, the boss's condition doesn't seem too stable. Is he going to flip?

Just as they were thinking this, they saw Natiwuzi sway and suddenly stand up, seemingly like a bird of prey that had been provoked. With overflowing energy and a fire burning in his eyes, he strummed the guitar rapidly!

Under Natiwuzi's hawk-like gaze, Fang Zhao calmly stood up, not showing any signs of weakness. He rapidly played an even more intense tune.

The air seemed to be filled with countless invisible knives, the music like a raging storm that was not letting up! In the small room, it seemed as if there was a formless hurricane!

The security chief felt as if he could hear the wrath of the ocean and the sound of surging waves crashing into a cliff and breaking apart.

Everyone else in the room stood there dumbstruck as they watched the two musicians caught up in their own crazy performance.

The whirlwind tempo kept increasing, and the two were like powerful machines that were out of control as the powerful strumming became more urgent and explosive and the room's temperature rose.

Natiwuzi's grimacing face was completely red, and he seemed to be in a crazed state.

In comparison, other than Fang Zhao's fingers that were strumming like the wind, he seemed a lot more tranquil, but of course, that was only on the surface.

Strumming faster than the naked eye could catch was not a feat that could be replicated by any youngster in one go just by watching videos on the internet. To actually be able to differentiate the rhythm through hearing and keep up with the speed, his skill was indeed high!

That skill!

In the room, other than the two playing the guitar, everyone else stood rooted to the spot like statues, afraid to even move in case they were scalded by the high temperatures, even forgetting to breath.

Luckily, this stifling atmosphere did not last for too long. After another round of a stormy tune from Fang Zhao, Natiwuzi did not continue, instead hugging his guitar as he stood there panting, the crazed look on his face completely dissipating. His eyes were glowing as he looked at Fang Zhao. There was no gloom or anger; it was purely a look of delight and excitement.

Natiwuzi wiped away the sweat on his face and laughed heartily, like a warrior who just experienced a good fight that left him content. "Hahahahaha!"

And with Natiwuzi's laughter, the explosive atmosphere from a while back no longer existed. The feeling of being dragged to another world also finally become normal, like the calm after a storm.

The security chief lifted a trembling finger to his forehead and discovered a fine layer of sweat had formed. He took a long and deep breath. How was this a conversation? This was simply an improvised quarrel! However, their boss seemed be quite happy despite the quarrel.

After laughing, Natiwuzi said, "You are very good!"

Fang Zhao laughed and replied, "You are really great yourself."

They were not sure which words had triggered Natiwuzi's funny bits, but he once again roared with laughter.

Natiwuzi took out a pen as thick as a thumb from his pocket and signed a bold and cursive name on the guitar: NaZi.

People familiar with Natiwuzi would know that he would only sign this name when facing close friends and family or when he really regarded someone as important and approved of them. At other times, he would only sign "Natiwuzi."

And this guitar was not one that Natiwuzi would use in public performances. He had used this guitar the longest, and it was different from the guitars he used in performances. This guitar was different from the ones used in performances that were custom-made for Natiwuzi.

Natiwuzi had invested in his old ancient-guitar manufacturing company. This guitar was from a series for the masses and was the best model in the series. Natiwuzi had advertised this for his company.

Natiwuzi handed over the guitar he had signed. "This guitar is for you." After that, he pointed at the other guitar, the one Fang Zhao had used, which belonged to the security chief. "You sign too." Natiwuzi spoke slowly, but every syllable seemed like his own bass, every word seemed so deep. Anyone hearing Natiwuzi speak for the first time would feel uneasy.

Fang Zhao had watched videos of some of Natiwuzi's performances and interviews and knew he talked like this. He was not surprised, but it was Natiwuzi's words that made him flabbergasted.

"This isn't mine." Fang Zhao pointed at the security chief who was wiping off his sweat.

"It is now," Natiwuzi continued slowly, word by word. "A waste."

The security chief: "..." Did this mean that leaving it in the office was considered a waste?

Fang Zhao took the pen and signed two words, "Fang Zhao," on the security chief's guitar. Unlike Natiwuzi's cursive signature, Fang Zhao's was distinct and straight.

Natiwuzi's face, which looked over a hundred years old, was smiling so much that all his creases were appearing. This boss was very happy today.

After receiving the guitar, Natiwuzi still took a photograph with Fang Zhao before carefully placing the guitar at the side. Still smiling, he told Fang Zhao, "It is very late already. I will get someone to send you back first. As for this, I will get to the bottom of the matter and inform you." Natiwuzi might have spoken slowly, but every word was distinct and full of sincerity. He truly meant that he would investigate the incident tonight, and if there was any inside story, he would definitely give Fang Zhao an account.

"Many thanks," Fang Zhao replied.

Natiwuzi waved his hands and did not say anything else. He got his men to escort Fang Zhao out. Only the security chief and a few trusted aides were left in the room.

The smile on Natiwuzi's face completely vanished. With a cold flicker in his eyes, he asked slowly, "Where are the ones that got beaten?"

The security chief took a step forward and respectfully answered. "In the medical treatment room, but they are currently restrained by our men."

Natiwuzi leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes, as if he was resting. He slowly spat out three words. "Drag them over!"

The security chief's eyebrows jumped. "Drag" was an understatement.

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