Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C181

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Chapter 181: Did You Sneak Something Into That Piece?

The Night Before

New Year’s Eve.

At Lin Tian’s home, both he and received notifications on their phones. The had just announced the eight contestants advancing to the semifinals of .

They were:

From Group A: Bai Xi, Lou Yitong, Yang Weize, and Zhu Ya.

From Group B: Christine Nanali, Yun Qiuqiu, Mao Junfeng, and Gan Yanyu.

These eight would now compete for a spot in the finals. The top scorer from each group would face off in the championship round, with the winner representing Qingjiang Province in the prestigious later in the year.

"What a brutal format," Lin Tian muttered. "Out of 260 participants, only eight make it to the semifinals, and then two to the finals."

He didn’t know much about music competitions, but this was unlike anything he’d ever heard of. This wasn’t a battle royale where people got eliminated by physical combat; they were playing cellos, after all. Yet here they were, funneling down to a one-on-one showdown. It felt absurdly competitive.

"This is part of recent changes to align with international standards," Gan Yanyu explained. "To appeal to younger audiences, they’ve modeled it after sports tournaments."

"Ah, so it's more like an athletic competition," Lin Tian said, finally understanding. Compared to other contests, classical music often lacked the edge that drew younger crowds. People might not grasp every nuance of cello performance, but everyone understood wins and losses.

The old adage—"there are no losers in music"—had been deliberately toned down. Splitting competitors into groups and culminating in a head-to-head final created drama, buzz, and star power. To Lin Tian, though, even this wasn’t enough. Why not spice things up further? Add trash talk before matches or handshake ceremonies afterward? Winners should humiliate the weak—it made for better TV.

---

Despite these structural tweaks, the core rules remained unchanged. Fortunately for Gan Yanyu, she wouldn’t face her longtime rival Bai Xi in the semifinals. Instead, she’d compete against Yun Qiuqiu, Christine Nanali, and Mao Junfeng.

"Nanali, huh?" Lin Tian mused aloud. He hadn’t expected her to make it this far. When the media initially ranked her third, he thought it was a joke. Even when she climbed to second place after the preliminaries, he chalked it up to riding the coattails of being labeled “Gan Yanyu’s Rival.” But now, seeing her name on the official list, he realized he needed to take her seriously.

She kept winning—quietly, steadily. With the semifinals just days away, Lin Tian knew Gan Yanyu’s preparation still required refinement.

"Why don’t we invite Nanali over for a practice session?" Lin Tian suggested.

"Huh?" Gan Yanyu looked surprised. "Do you really think she’ll come?"

Lin Tian stared at her incredulously. Was she genuinely unaware, or was she pretending? Nanali was the textbook definition of a —a trope so overused in modern that authors avoided writing it anymore.

"Just wait," Lin Tian said confidently as he sent a message. Sure enough, Nanali arrived right on time the next day.

When she saw Gan Yanyu, her usual sharp tongue softened slightly. She glanced sideways, almost shyly, and murmured, "Congratulations… on making it to the semifinals. I thought that disgusting old man’s comments would disqualify you for sure."

Her voice grew heated as she continued, venting her frustration. "That creep gives me the creeps! His eyes are so sleazy—I felt violated while performing. Honestly, I doubt he knows anything about music. He’s only there because of his age, pretending to be some wise elder."

"Not quite," Lin Tian interjected hastily, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Criticizing was one thing, but outright personal attacks crossed a line. Clearly, Nanali hadn’t lost her venomous streak—it just happened to align perfectly with Lin Tian’s own disdain for Toba.

Of course, Nanali was British, so she harbored no reverence for Zhonghua musicians like Toba. Unlike Gan Yanyu, whose idolization of Toba prevented her from speaking ill of him—even privately—Nanali had no such qualms.

"How is that not true?" Nanali snapped, ready to launch into another tirade. Then, catching herself, she quickly added, "But let me clarify—I’m not defending you, Gan Yanyu. I just hate that guy too. Plus, if you hadn’t advanced, I wouldn’t get the chance to defeat you myself. So consider my congratulations purely strategic. Don’t read too much into it."

Gan Yanyu tilted her head, silent but expressive. Her silence spoke volumes.

---

"Anyway, let’s begin," Lin Tian said, taking his place at the piano. Gan Yanyu settled onto the couch with her cello. After tuning their instruments, they were ready.

Nanali perched herself on the café counter, legs swinging in anticipation. "Hurry up! Let’s go!"

As the first notes filled the room, the café resonated with their harmonious melodies. The piece? . Lin Tian had chosen it specifically to refine the technique he’d used during the filming of , where his piano-playing conveyed feelings of affection strong enough to subtly dominate Gan Yanyu’s performance.

While overt domination wouldn’t fly in an actual competition (since Lin Tian would merely serve as accompaniment), mastering this approach allowed him to act as a guiding force, keeping Gan Yanyu’s immersive style within controlled bounds. Demonstrating such control itself constituted a form of dominance.

Though the impact on their combined score might seem minor—perhaps raising it from 100 to 102 points—their synchronization and stability improved dramatically. More importantly, it provided a safety net for Gan Yanyu’s intense performances. And beyond practical benefits, it served as a pointed rebuttal to Toba Jianhui’s earlier criticisms.

---

After finishing the first run-through, Gan Yanyu set down her cello, her heart racing. She felt it again—the same emotions from before, only stronger this time.

"Lin Tian," Nanali suddenly piped up, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Did you… sneak something into that piece?"

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