The significance of the Dragon Qin Cup was far more than simply being the pinnacle of cello competitions in China.
Over the past century, countless renowned musicians from home and abroad had performed on this stage. Among them were many great musicians whose names had gone down in history and whose work had held profound significance for later generations.
That was what had made the Dragon Qin Cup a sacred hall in the hearts of musicians.
On a stage like this,
every performance you gave likewise bestowed new meaning upon it.
It might even be preserved forever, recorded on videotape and passed down for future generations to admire.
Therefore, on a stage like this,
there was no need for cumbersome organizer rules to deliberately restrain the contestants.
The accumulation of the past century, the footprints left by countless musicians—those alone were already the strongest "rules," disciplining every performer who stepped onto this stage.
Yet somehow, there was a cellist like this.
Nana Li was a little curious.
What kind of cellist could be so utterly unrestrained?
Even if he truly could not afford good clothes, as a cellist—as a cellist who had made it this far—
he should at least have shown some respect for the Dragon Qin Cup, right?
This was not a matter of whether he had the means to dress well. He had not even done something as basic as washing his hair!
He simply did not take these "rules" seriously at all!
Nana Li recalled bumping into the man in the corridor earlier.
He was probably some kind of lunatic.
That was what Nana Li thought.
Anyway, musicians generally had something wrong with them.
Bai Junze sat down in the seat at the center of the stage.
Below the stage, aside from a few judges casting