Chapter 579
Chapter 579
Using his computer, Shen Lang arranged the sacrificial ode line by line, testing combination after combination. As a result, he identified dozens of passages with frequencies ideal for speech and dozens more suited for a melodic, song-like delivery. A speech truly required outstanding skill. It had to stir the audience's emotions and stimulate their auditory nerves. It was much like singing a song. To be successful, it had to make the audience tremble, to send shivers down their spines. Writing lyrics is difficult, but arranging the music is even harder.
Shen Lang spent a full four hours using his computer to finalize the tonal arrangement of the ode. The simple passages, the grand passages, the magnificent passages, and the tragic passages were all blended in perfect harmony. It could be called the best—no, the greatest of all time. This was because Shen Lang had once again stood on the shoulders of the giant that was Chinese history to complete the ode. (He had used the computer to find the greatest eulogies and the most effective speech tones in Chinese history.)
After the arrangement of the words came the true musical arrangement, which would involve an accompaniment of stone chimes, bronze bell chimes, and large ceremonial bells. However, since the instruments were not yet ready, the accompaniment couldn't be practiced. So, Shen Lang recited the ode once, following the melody he had arranged. As soon as they heard it, everyone felt a chill run down their spine. The text was truly goosebump-inducing, absolutely electrifying.
When recited with the melody, the magnificent Sacrificial Ode seemed to have been elevated to another level. Shen Lang lacked a powerful diaphragm, so it would surely sound even better when recited by someone else. For instance, listening to an ordinary person sing opera might put you to sleep, but hearing a group of masterful opera singers perform can make an audience's hair stand on end with sheer awe. Their voices, trained over decades, were simply incomparable to those of ordinary people. The voice of a professional dedicated to their craft was destined to overwhelm the masses.
***
Prince Ying memorized the tonal inflections of the ode very quickly and soon began to recite it according to the melody Shen Lang had arranged. The result, however, was a complete mess. He had a stronger diaphragm than Shen Lang, so logically, his recitation should have sounded far more electrifying. But he was too nervous. His focus on not stuttering created a sense of trepidation, which naturally prevented him from reciting with any real force.
How should one describe this? Imagine the excruciating feeling of watching a compilation of failed auditions on a television talent show. Prince Ying's recitation was just that disheartening. It couldn't be helped. He was an earnest man who didn't know the first thing about acting. The harder he tried, the worse the result became. With each attempt, his recitation became more awkward, and his stutter grew more pronounced. Eunuch Lü Zhun felt a wave of despair.
‘This is a disaster, an absolute catastrophe. If he makes a fool of himself at the Grand Rite of Heaven Worship, His Highness will face the condemnation of the masses. Prince Ying's path to the throne will be cut off before it even begins.’
But the King had already issued the decree, and it was impossible to retract it. Even a WeChat message can't be recalled after three minutes, so what hope was there for a king's decree? Lü Zhun looked at Shen Lang with despair in his eyes. It was already the middle of the night, yet he had not returned to the palace. The King had ordered him to stay at the Marquis of Changping's estate and only return once Prince Ying could recite the ode properly. At this rate, Lü Zhun felt he might never return to the palace again, as the prince's recitation was only getting worse.
Shen Lang said to Prince Ying, "Your Highness, please follow me!"
***
In a deserted garden, Prince Ying did not hide his disappointment.
"Shen Lang, have I… have I greatly disappointed you?"
Shen Lang shook his head. Prince Ying's reaction was perfectly normal. In fact, even a brilliant politician might not necessarily be a skilled public speaker. In this, they were different from Western politicians. The politicians who reached the pinnacle in China did so through practical, down-to-earth work. In contrast, many Western politicians rose through the ranks via street speeches, making them all gifted orators. Of course, this didn't mean that eloquent politicians were incapable of governing; stirring people's hearts was simply one of their skills. If two politicians from a certain country were to appear on the television program *Kangxi Coming*, they would likely not be more articulate than the two hosts and would often make the situation awkward.
"Your Highness, have you ever tried talking to yourself?"
At Shen Lang's question, Prince Ying nodded. Since childhood, he had been considered an ill omen, so very few people ever spoke to him. In truth, if it weren't for Shen Lang, he would still be holed up in a corner with no one to talk to besides his wife and the old eunuch by his side. So, when he was alone, he often spoke to himself.
"Do you stutter even when you're talking to yourself?"
Prince Ying shook his head. His stutter was a habit, and after nearly a year of training, the habitual aspect had improved. However, the psychological ailment remained. When he got nervous, his stutter became so severe it was difficult to listen to. What Prince Ying needed now was to enter a state of extreme self-centeredness.
His inferiority complex was too severe. Because of his appearance and height, he instinctively felt uncomfortable whenever people looked at him. Of course, a person with an inferiority complex could still become a great monarch. Napoleon wasn't actually short, but it was true that his origins were not noble, and he had been looked down upon since childhood. And look how great he became. Hitler was an even clearer example. He was a failed Austrian painter, a failed army corporal—a loser filled with sensitivity and a sense of inferiority.
Compared to them, Prince Ying was far more rational and self-controlled. He needed to unleash the demon within his heart. The line between an inferiority complex, self-esteem, and egocentrism was paper-thin. After a moment's hesitation, Shen Lang handed Prince Ying a vial containing a potion.
"Drink this, and try again."
Prince Ying took it without the slightest hesitation and drank it. He trusted Shen Lang more than he trusted himself. After drinking the potion, Prince Ying immediately felt a certain spirit within him begin to expand. It swelled and swelled, expanding to its absolute limit before breaking free from the confines of his body. He felt as if he were soaring into the sky, looking down upon the capital. His heart felt incomparably bold, his spirit light and floating, overflowing with self-love.
‘I am so magnificent that the heavens and earth cannot contain me! I swear, I, Ying, will become the greatest monarch in the history of the State of Yue. I will utterly astound all those who look down on me. I will achieve unprecedented feats.’
Prince Ying’s blood boiled, and his spirits soared. The feeling was like being drunk, his vigor magnified tenfold, yet his mind was perfectly clear, and all fear had vanished. In his current state, even if ten million people stood before him, they would seem like nothing more than a swarm of insignificant ants. Shen Lang shouted from the side.
"Your Highness, read! Recite!"
Prince Ying took a deep breath. He gathered all his spirit and energy, intending to speak each word with clarity and vigor.
"In the beginning, when chaos reigned, the four corners were a swirling torrent. The five elements had not yet moved, and the sun and moon had not yet brightened. In that world, there was not a single sound, not a single form to be seen!"
The effect was tremendous. Not only did he not stutter, but his delivery was smooth, with a perfect cadence of highs and lows. More importantly, he had a stronger diaphragm than Shen Lang, so the effect of his recitation was far superior. Listening beside him, Shen Lang felt a shiver run down his spine at the power of the prince's voice.
‘The effect is too good!’
Soon, Lü Zhun, Madman Nan, and Gao Duhuan were drawn by the sound, staring at Prince Ying in disbelief.
‘This change is too sudden. Just a moment ago, he was stuttering and timid, and now his voice is so bold and resonant?’
Prince Ying was completely lost in the moment, reciting the ode again and again. He even felt as if he had become like one of those with a Blank Bloodline. He recited it dozens, hundreds of times, as if searching for the most perfect rhythm. His recitation grew better and better, and Grand Eunuch Lü Zhun was overjoyed at the sight.
"Young Master Shen, you've done it, you've done it! His Highness Prince Ying is doing so well!"
The conversation of those around him had no effect on Prince Ying. He had entered a state of heightened self-awareness. Shen Lang closed his eyes and listened. Prince Ying's recitation had indeed improved to an astonishing degree, but it wasn't yet shocking enough. He still lacked power; his voice lacked the force to pierce a person's soul and make them tremble. But achieving that was incredibly difficult. Producing a sound like a male tenor or someone who had mastered the Lion's Roar technique required decades of training. With less than three days until the Grand Rite of Heaven Worship, there was no time to learn the Lion's Roar, was there?
Shen Lang took out another vial of liquid. It was a shimmering fluid, an upgraded version of the "Golden Dragon's Blood." It could grant even greater strength, which would allow Prince Ying's voice to resonate more deeply in the hearts of the audience.
"Your Highness, drink this!"
Prince Ying took it and drank it in one gulp.
"Hahaha, good wine, good wine…"
As expected, the effect was astounding. After drinking the "Golden Dragon's Blood," Prince Ying felt another power swell and erupt within his body. He continued to recite, his voice now imbued with a formidable strength.
"Your Highness, recite it in your mind!"
Prince Ying's voice was now too resonant. Although the Marquis of Changping's estate was vast, his voice could still carry outside, and some might discern the truth. Moreover, if he continued to recite like this, his voice would be hoarse in three days. But Prince Ying was already in a state where his self-awareness was overflowing, so reciting silently produced the same result. He could still hear his own voice ringing in his ears.
Lü Zhun exclaimed loudly.
"This is it! In three days, His Highness Prince Ying's performance will surely astonish and thrill everyone."
Shen Lang closed his eyes, running calculations on the computer in his mind. The Grand Rite of Heaven Worship would be held at the ancient divine altar. There was a huge plaza there, open and vast, covering an area of about one square kilometer. Prince Ying's recitation of the Sacrificial Ode was no longer a problem, and it was impressive enough on its own. However, the effect of his recitation was still not shocking enough to truly stun the audience. On the day of the ceremony, over twenty thousand people would gather, and he needed to deliver a shock powerful enough to make them feel like their skulls were splitting apart.