My Synthesizer Has Talent

Pingchuan City.

A city on the outskirts of Zhengxuan City.

Demon Fiends were extremely rare here.

...

At this time, Song Zhining was about six years old.

He was in a wide-open area that few people passed through.

"Take that for trying to steal my toy! And that!"

"Get him, everyone!"

A group of four or five children were beating up another kid. The boy clutched a round stone to his chest, which was being stained by his blood.

Slowly, it began to fuse with the child’s own blood.

"This is my toy," the battered child shouted stubbornly, his face a mask of resentment and indignation.

The corner of his eye was already split and bleeding.

...

After they’d been hitting him for a while, a chubby boy with wheat-colored skin suddenly appeared.

"Hey, stop hitting him!"

The chubby boy was surprisingly strong, kicking two of the kids away with one foot.

"Zhao Dahai, are you playing with this bastard?!" the leader of the group suddenly yelled, pointing at the chubby boy with a look of hatred.

"My dad always said, when you see injustice, you have to step in and help!" Zhao Dahai, the chubby boy, declared as he stood in front of the beaten child.

"When I see something unfair, I have to do something about it."

He looked like one man holding a pass against ten thousand.

"I’ll beat you up today, too!"

"Fine, I’m not scared! Bring it on!" Zhao Dahai shouted, glaring at the other kids.

"Don’t think I don’t know you guys just love to bully people."

"Worst case, I’ll just tell my dad not to sell any meat to your families from our butcher shop!"

Zhao Dahai’s words made the kids flinch. They quickly grabbed their leader.

The leader, his own clothes covered in patches, replied without backing down, "Hmph! Who’s scared? For your sake, I, Young Master Bai Mian, will spare your life."

"Me too! I, the White Dragon King, will also spare your life!"

...

The gang of kids all announced what they thought were incredibly cool nicknames before leaving.

"Song Dashua! Why are you always hanging around them?"

"Don’t you know they love picking on kids like you?"

Watching the group leave, Zhao Dahai pulled the small child to his feet.

"They wanted to steal my toy," Song Zhining said fiercely.

"Thanks, Brother Dahai."

"It was nothing. Who do you think I am? I’m Zhao Dahai, the Little Tyrant of Pingchuan!" Hearing Song Zhining’s thanks, Zhao Dahai’s lips curved into a proud smile.

Covered in bruises, Song Zhining stood up and started looking for something.

"My toy!"

"They stole my toy again!" Song Zhining had once again suffered a double loss.

"Want me to walk you home?"

"No thanks, Brother Dahai. I can get back myself." Song Zhining wiped the blood from his nose and left.

He snuck around, dawdling until nightfall.

Only then did Song Zhining return home.

"Mom, I’m home."

"You’re back?" Bu Chunmei, dressed in simple clothes, raised an eyebrow as she looked at her son.

But even in the dim light of evening, she could still see the bruises on him.

"You were fighting again!"

"You were fighting again!" Seeing her son covered in bruises, Bu Chunmei was both angry and tearful as she picked up a thin wooden switch.

She struck Song Zhining a few times with it.

"WAAAH!"

Song Zhining, who hadn’t cried while being beaten by the bullies, burst into tears now that his mother was hitting him.

"Mom, they were trying to take my toy! I didn’t want to fight!"

After striking him a few more times, Bu Chunmei heard her son’s explanation.

Her heart instantly softened.

Her calloused hands gently reached out as she knelt to hug her child, one hand stroking Song Zhining’s head, the other rubbing his back.

"It’s Mom’s fault. I thought you had gone looking for a fight again."

"Blame me, it’s my fault."

"Blame me, it’s my fault."

"If they want the toy, just give it to them. Don’t fight."

Song Zhining’s crying gradually subsided. He sobbed, "I didn’t fight. I couldn’t beat them anyway. There were too many of them."

"From now on, if you see them, just run. Alright, let’s eat."

"It’s my fault, I was wrong."

"After dinner, I’ll teach you more of your letters," Bu Chunmei said, forcing a smile.

Bu Chunmei wiped away her own tears, and then her son’s.

"Okay, Mom. I’ll listen to you."

...

The stone had already opened Song Zhining’s mind.

He gradually came to understand his family’s position.

He obediently listened to his mother’s words.

He rarely did anything to make his mother angry or cause her to cry.

He was both intelligent and resolute.

...

「Until that year.」

Song Zhining was eight years old, clutching ten copper coins that Zhao Dahai had given him.

By now, Zhao Dahai was the second-in-command at the butcher shop, helping his father run the business.

At the same time, Song Zhining had become Zhao Dahai’s little brother.

Song Zhining willingly took on this role.

He knew his family needed money, and by being the shop’s helper, he could earn ten copper coins a week, which was a lot.

As night approached, the sky was dark and heavy.

Song Zhining was returning home through the side gate of the Song Family estate.

He had just stepped through the door of his own home.

But then he saw his mother lying in a pool of blood. A figure, face hidden by a black cloth, was lighting a torch and setting the place on fire.

Song Zhining’s eyes widened at the sight, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"There’s another little one! So this is where you were!"

Already heartbroken, Song Zhining turned and fled the moment he heard those words.

He ran and wept, his tears falling to the ground.

Overwhelmed by grief and rage, but driven by the will to survive, he ran frantically, his mind consumed by a single thought: ’I have to live so I can get revenge! I must get revenge!’

’The Song Family!’

’The Song Family!’

’My mother was murdered in the Song Family estate!’

’The people at the side gate were gone. The Song Family’s security is usually so tight, but today, there were no guards at the side gate.’

’It’s not normal. My mother’s death is even less normal.’

Even at such a young age, Song Zhining was already thinking things through like an adult.

...

As he ran and ran, a heavy rain began to fall from the sky, mixing with his tears and snot.

He ran to the riverbank, near the edge of the city. Because of the rain, there was almost no one around.

No one was chasing him anymore.

He suddenly collapsed to his knees by the river and screamed at the heavens, "NO!!!"

"NO!!!"

Song Zhining let out a heart-wrenching scream, as if demanding to know why the heavens were so unjust as to let his mother be murdered.

He couldn’t understand it. He just couldn’t understand why the world was like this, why his mother had to be killed!

’Why would the Song Family, a family of scholars, harm his mother?’

’Why did it have to be my mother who was killed?!’

’Why!’

’Why!’

No one answered him.

Song Zhining’s emotions grew more and more intense.

Until he suddenly fainted and collapsed.

The stone inside his mind was stimulated by Song Zhining’s sudden trauma.

It began to glow, protecting Song Zhining from falling ill in the heavy rain.

...

Bu Chunmei, Song Zhining’s mother, had once been taken advantage of by the head of the Song Family—the City Lord of Pingchuan—when he was drunk. Song Zhining was born from this union. Bu Chunmei originally came from a scholarly family, but after its decline, she was left with no one. Thieves stole all her family’s valuables, and she ended up destitute in Pingchuan City, where she became a servant for the Song Family, tasked with washing their clothes each day.