The concert ended at 9pm, but by the time Tan Lao and Du Sheng finished sending off the guests, it was already 10 oâclock. Since it was late autumn, B City was bleak and chilly. Tan Lao didnât linger to celebrate further, and Du Sheng went to send them home.
During the car ride, Du Sheng continued to praise Qi Mu on his performance. He also inquired about why he refused Danielâs offer to pursue an education in Europe. As aforementioned, Conservatoire de Paris and The Royal Conservatory of Music were among the top worldâs conservatories. Those who lacked even a bit of strength couldnât touch their threshold.
Qi Mu had to make clear that he wanted to practice more in Huaxia, and that he had no intention of furthering his studies yet.
Du Sheng felt it was a pity but didnât say anything else. It was Tan Lao who, after staring at Qi Mu for a long time, suddenly asked, âXiao Qi, are you. . . familiar with Min Chen?â
Qi Mu was stunned when he heard the question. He automatically shook his head, âTan Lao, I had never met Mr. Min until you introduced him to me the other day. How could I be?â
Tan Lao hummed lightly and didnât speak another word on the matter. He said instead, âYouâre not too young, and if you donât want to continue your education, you must have your own reasons. This yearâs tour is over. Before the Spring Festival concert, you only need to come to rehearsals a few times a week. Xiao Qi, do you have plans?â
In fact, even before Tan Lao mentioned it, Qi Mu already knew that he would spend the next month or so idle. As assistant concertmaster, he only needed to replace Du Sheng in some songs, so his rehearsals were relatively few. Other than that, he had nothing to do.
After thinking on it, Qi Mu eyes curved with his smile and he nodded, âThank you, Tan Lao, for your concern. I do have plans already.â
A month ago, Qi Mu knew that Tan Lao would probably have said something like: âWhat are your plans?â or âYou must seize this time. You cannot relax.â But Qi Muâs recent growth was obvious, and Tan Lao had seen it with his own eyes. His previous hesitation and concern towards Qi Mu had vanished.
Tan Lao just nodded to indicate that he understood and questioned no further.
Qi Muâs home was the closest, so Du Sheng dropped him off first, then Tan Lao.
In the cold and windy night, the youth wearing a crimson coat watched the black car leave. The red of his coat was like a fire searing into the night, one that could not be ignored.
When Du Shengâs car disappeared down the road, Qi Mu raised his head slightly and turned to head upstairs. There was a hint of a helpless smile in his amber eyes. Qi Mu took the elevator and pressed the â26â button. He then watched as the golden number at the top changed rapidly.
The eveningâs events were above and beyond what he anticipated, but. . .
It was still mostly in line with his expectations.
Tan Lao had already planned for this indoor concert before Qi Mu joined B City Symphony Orchestra. Later, he deliberately left a place for him as one of the performers. This was Tan Laoâs goodwill for him.
Before Zheng Wei Qiao left, he pulled Qi Mu aside and excitedly told him that he would write a manuscript immediately after he got back, on Qi Muâs performance.
Zheng Wei Qiao still had quite the reputation in the Huaxia music circle. Qi Muâs mother was his teacher so his violin skill was not low and he also had some writing skills. Qi Mu knew that as long as this article was published, it would cause quite a hype.
Therefore, the effect that Tan Lao desired would be achieved.
Qi Mu had no idea that half the city away, a man with a kind face was staring at his computer screen while scratching his ears and cheeks. The screen was filled with dense square characters, and Zheng Wei Qiao was engrossed in typing.
About half an hour later, Zheng Wei Qiao suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and excitedly sent the manuscript to several newspapers and magazines that he was familiar with and waited to receive a reply.
But, Zheng Wei Qiao didnât expect that just as he stood to walk away, not even two steps from the computer, he heard one notification after the other. He turned quickly and lookedââ
ăMusic Hall â Xiao Wang: Zheng-ge, we donât need this manuscript. The boss decided to personally write one with the same topic.ă
ăSound of Music â Lie Jie: Xiao Zheng, unfortunately, we have also written a paper on the same topic. The boss hasnât written anything personally for months so we canât accept yours this time.ă
ăClassical Music â Ah Chen: Zheng-ge, you are so unlucky. Lu Jie said sheâs planning to write a manuscript on your topic herself! We canât accept your manuscript, alas. . .ă
. . .
There were another three or four messages just like these, all from the various classical musical media that Zheng Wei Qiao was familiar with. These were all well-known media outlets in B City. Not only were there weekly magazines but also semi-monthly and monthly ones as well. Zheng Wei Qiaoâs articles were also popular with them. When the market was poor, they would even rush to publish them. Zheng Wei Qiao never thought that this time. . .
He would unexpectedly encounter Waterloo?!!!
Zheng Wei Qiao was stunned for a long while. Then he quickly sat back down in his chair and carefully read the draft he wrote from beginning to end three times. He then finally went to Xiao Wang, the editor of Music Hall and typed: ăXiao Wang, were you mistaken? My topic is Qi Mu, the new Assistant Concertmaster of B Cityâs Symphony Orchestra, and not the actual concert organized by Tan Lao tonight. Zhangâs article could be used as the main article and mine as a supplement.ă
Zheng Wei Qiao then opened the chat of Lie Jie, the editor for Sound of Music. He hadnât even typed out his message yet when Xiao Wang replied: ăNo, Zheng-ge. The chief editor meant that he would write an article on Qi Mu himself.ă
Zheng Wei Qiao was shocked when he read the words. He then asked several others like Sound of Music and Classical Music and got a unified responseââ
The bosses who hadnât personally written anything for several months had actually decided to write an article on Qi Mu themselves?!
This was tantamount to a small earthquake!
Zheng Wei Qiaoâs expression was that of joy. The first thing he thought of was to call Qi Mu and tell him this fantastic news. But as soon as he picked up his phone, he remembered that it was already past midnight so Qi Mu might have fallen asleep already. So he only sent a text.
The moment you have good news but canât share it with others really makes you feel bad!
The more Zheng Wei Qiao thought about it, the more he felt as if there was a fire blocking in his heart. He couldnât get over it. The more he held back, the more excited he got. Not even a few minutes later, he couldnât help but send another message to Qi Mu, informing him that ăFriend of Musică also rejected his manuscript. Three minutes later, it was ăAudioă with a similar rejection. Then five minutes later, it was. . .
So when Qi Mu woke up the next morning, he turned on his mobile phone to find Zheng Wei Qiaoâs 13 consecutive messages. After the first one at 1am, he kept sending one after another until 3 in the morning.
Qi Mu drank hot milk that he had warmed using the microwave while reading Zheng Wei Qiaoâs emotional messages. He was so excited he didnât even use the correct punctuation in them. His eyes lingered on Zheng Wei Qiaoâs last message for a long time.
His slender fingers seemed to move on their own and were tapping the glass table, producing a rhythmic beat. After a long time, he finally gave Zheng Wei Qiao a call, preparing a lot of words to comfort the other man.
His delicate eyebrows were slightly knitted, just as the call connected, he let out a low sigh and said: âZheng-ge, you donât have to be upset. I know. . .â Itâs sad to be rejected.
âQi Mu, you woke up?! I am so happy!â Qi Mu hadnât even finished talking, when Zheng Wei Qiaoâs unusually excited voice burst through the small phone speaker, âIâm so happy today. Iâll pick you up later. Your sister-in-law is also excited, and she cooked several dishes especially for you. Come and eat.â
â. . .â
Why was he happy being rejected? Shouldnât he be sad and depressed?
Qi Muâs eyes turned hard, and he hastened to say, âZheng-ge, donât force yourself to appear cheerful. Your manuscript was rejected 12 times in a row. I believe there will be magazines that will accept your manuscript. If there isnât, I can talk to Tan Lao, and see if thereâs any that heâs familiar with. . .â
âHuh? Forcing myself? Xiao Qi, what are you talking about?â
âHeâs familiar with some outlets. . .â Qi Mu suddenly stopped and thought of something. He then frowned, a bit puzzled, and asked, âIsnât it. . . you sent me 13 messages last night telling me you got rejected, werenât you were sad about it?â
â. . .â
After an extended silence, a burst of laughter carried down the phone. Zheng Wei Qiaoâs rare laughter carried in his voice, âXiao Qi, ah, I forgot to tell you! My topic for the manuscript was on your performance last night. And my manuscript was rejected. . . because all the magazines had a chief editor or another major writer that wanted to personally write about you!â
â. . .?!â
âXiao Qi, ah, this is really great! Donât say anything more. Letâs meet and talk, okay. Iâll pick you up now! Haha!â
Listening to the beep and dial tone of his phone, Qi Mu was so shocked that he couldnât respond. He then walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and couldnât help but squint his eyes in confusion at the rising sun over the horizon.
The sunshine was so brilliant that it shone through the dense layer of clouds that covered the sky, falling to the earth that was deeply asleep. The golden light fell on the youthâs hair, making it look as though inlaid with gold.
After a while, Qi Mu burst into laughter and murmured helplessly, âIt turned out to be such a small matter. I thought Zheng-ge was worried that there would be no rice bowls in the future.â
The view of the twenty-sixth floor was grand, and the young manâs tall, handsome figure reflected on the glass in a blurred shadow. What Qi Mu didnât know was on that very same glass, there was another reflection of an even taller manâs silent back.
This single, high-end apartment was separated from Qi Muâs by just a wall. The lower floors had about 200 square meters whereas the upper ones had around 300. The whole room was post-modern styled, dominated by black and white. Like its owner, it seemed silent.
Min Chen stood with his back to the window and lowered his head, seriously lifting a sugar cube to gently drop it into his coffee. When the white cube was gradually stained brown by the coffee, he picked up the cup and took a sip.
â. . .â
Two more cubes were added, only then was Min Chen satisfied with the taste.
Outside, the sun was bright, and the sky was blue. The crisp autumn breeze blew through the clouds above, looking like willow catkins scattering in all directions.
It really was. . . good weather.
ââThe two neighbors separated by a wall sighed ruefully.