The sound of the piano gradually began to play, and Ji Kang played "Guangling San". The clank sound seemed to come from the underworld, and the clang sound seemed to only echo the sound of □□. The sound he makes is like gold and stone, the rhythm is like chanting, and the fingers are moving like it is careless. It has long been the integration of human and piano. Humans are the body, and the piano is the function. They are combined to achieve a beautiful state. Loud sounds are not stimulating but diffuse; soft sounds are not annihilated but are not heard; they are fast but not fast; they are lingering but not lingering. The beautiful ones are like the setting sun in the snow, and the sad ones are like the cuckoo cries for blood, laughing at the idiotic appearance of all living beings and hating the ruthless passing water. The sound is like a broken string piercing the heart, like the flowing colors of purple clouds, but it also shadows the clearness of the bright moon. The song was played so that the flowers fell and the magpies wept, the fish sank and the clouds dimmed, then the sound swirled upwards again, the phoenixes chirped with clear sounds, and not long after, it fell again, the fire was Nirvana, and in just a moment, all the flowers were wiped out, and everyone was shocked.