Not sure if it was because her previous show of loyalty worked, or if handsome guys just have a special advantage, but right now Lily Carter was in high spirits, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him outside: “Hungry? Come on, let’s go to Baihua Courtyard.”

“Hey, you little brat, are you dragging me to a brothel?”

“You think brothels only sell girls and not fine food? Master was right, good-looking men really do have nothing but grass in their heads.”

Is this the male version of ‘big chest, no brains’ in another world? I’ll admit I’m weak in a fight, but for an illiterate girl who can’t even do basic math to say my head is full of grass… John Smith was both amused and exasperated, but he was also genuinely interested in their business model, so he followed Lily Carter with enthusiasm.

When the two arrived at Baihua Courtyard, they were greeted by Sarah Miller, who looked at John Smith with a mix of worry and resentment, then bowed her head in greeting: “Young Sect Master, Young Master Xue.”

Looks like this girl still doesn’t know her flirting was broadcast live. Lily Carter didn’t expose her, just smiled and said, “Get us a private room.”

John Smith added, “Preferably one with a good view of the main hall.”

“Huh?” Lily Carter tilted her head and glanced at him. “Are you really preparing to take over the accounting?”

John Smith smiled slightly. “Trust me, I can do far more than just accounting.”

Even if it’s a bathhouse, I could turn it into a paradise on earth, right?

Following Sarah Miller upstairs to a private room, John Smith’s attention was immediately drawn to the calligraphy and paintings hanging on the wall.

Ink-wash landscapes, freehand flowers and birds… and some poetry. So these things still exist… but the quality of these poems and paintings is really quite rough. Not sure if the art just developed poorly here, or if Baihua Courtyard’s standards are just low.

Looking down at the main hall, the gentle sound of a guqin drifted up. John Smith stood by the door, listening intently.

Compared to appreciating calligraphy and painting, music was truly his specialty…

After listening for a while, John Smith was a bit shocked. Not shocked by how bad it was, but by how incredibly good it was! Far superior to those poems and paintings!

Instrumental solos are quite limited, which is why modern music puts so much emphasis on accompaniment and harmony. But the musician downstairs, with just a seven-stringed zither and a sweet, soft singing voice, managed to create a gentle, enchanting atmosphere, like a spring breeze brushing into your heart, leaving you tingling all over.

This was a high-level combination of composition, performance, and singing—music that touched the soul, reaching a level rarely found in the modern world.

Their cultural foundation is abysmal, but they’re masters of singing, dancing, and music. This isn’t just like a girl group—it’s a super-powered girl group!

Chapter 9: What a Transmigrator Should Do

John Smith turned to ask Lily Carter, “Didn’t you say that everything except strength is just a side branch? How is the music here so advanced?”

Lily Carter replied lazily, “Because sound is also a part of martial arts, and our sect happens to be very good at it. What you’re hearing actually already has a touch of our sect’s charm technique mixed in, which is why it feels like it touches your soul. If she stopped using her skills, the level would be just average.”

“Uh…” John Smith finally understood. Basically, anything useful for martial arts—like clothing and performing arts—becomes part of their charm techniques, so those areas develop a lot. But things that aren’t useful for martial arts, like calligraphy and poetry, are just hobbies and don’t develop much.

It’s not just their Xingyue Sect—it’s the way of the world.

Lily Carter pointed to her own nose: “If you’re really interested in music, I’m actually a top expert—one of the best in the world. And here you are, eager to listen to the musicians downstairs. Your head really is full of grass.”

You’ve never performed for me… How about playing the flute in a bamboo grove sometime? John Smith couldn’t be bothered to argue with a kid, so he just asked directly, “Compared to the music, the lyrics just now were unbearably tacky. Stuff like ‘My lord hasn’t come for so long, my heart is anxious and restless’—could they be any dumber? No matter how good the tune is, it ruins the mood! Do the customers really buy it?”

“How many customers do you think are actually literate? Even if the girls sing flowery, passionate lyrics, what’s the point if the customers can’t understand them?” Lily Carter looked at him strangely. “Isn’t it the same with most things? Like when you write a martial arts manual, it’s for your own disciples, so the clearer the better. Unless you’re deliberately trying to trick people, if you write it all cryptic and someone practices it wrong, you’re just cutting off your own legacy, right?”

So you’re saying Huang Shang was an idiot? Daoist jargon is one thing, and you could say Mei Chaofeng was just uneducated, but why write the main manual in Sanskrit… what was he thinking… John Smith realized he’d actually been brainwashed by Lily Carter’s words, and started to wonder if Huang Shang really was a bit dumb… It took him a while to snap out of it, and he twitched his mouth: “What you’re saying… But I’ve seen how prosperous the capital is—surely people aren’t that uneducated? They can’t even understand a song?”