After a round of applause, melodious music carried through the concert hall.
In the box Qi Mu was in, the acoustics rang clear in his ears.
Whether it was the tambourine, the timber drum, the triangle, the trumpet, or the oboe, the British tube, or even Christoleâs violin, he could hear them all distinctly.
Before, Qi Mu had guessed this box to have the best location, but when he heard the vibrant echo of the multi-layered symphony, he affirmed his previous conjecture.
No. . .
Perhaps he had confirmed it when that man entered the box.
Wherever Min Chen went, it would naturally be the best.
Schumannâs ăVienna Carnivală played on stage, and its magnificent performance was so powerful it intoxicated the audience and drew them into the carnival experience.
While the music played, no one spoke. Although Qi Mu was surprised to see Min Chen, he did not talk to the man beside him.
There were six seats in the box. Three in the first row and three in the second. Akkad had chosen the leftmost position when he entered, and Qi Mu sat beside his teacher. He hadnât thought there would be someone else in the box with them.
When Min Chen sat beside him, the concert had already begun, and Qi Mu could only smile at him for there was no time for words.
During the thunderous applause after the first song, Qi Mu whispered as he clapped, âI didnât expect Bai Aiâs first show of the season. . . to be in Paris.â
The young manâs voice was deliberately low, almost masked under the roar of the audienceâs applause. The boxâs lighting was dim, Akkad reminisced about the exhilarating rendition of ăVienna Carnivală, so he didnât notice the other two beside him.
Min Chenâs gaze flitted to the side, and he answered just as quietly, âDaniel said the orchestra shouldnât do the same thing all the time. He decided weâd do something different this year. The second show will still be in London.â
Qi Mu nodded and asked, âDidnât you. . . could it be on the phone the other day, when you asked if I needed a ticket, it was for this?!â
A smile flashed in Min Chenâs dark eyes, and he hummed an affirmative âEn.â
Qi Mu: â. . .â
So, even though he refused the invitation before, he still ended up at the scene with the other man?
Min Chen didnât seem to notice Qi Muâs tangled expression and clapped his hands. The family emblem engraved on his left handâs ring caught in a ray of light, but he frowned as he pondered. After a while, Min Chen narrowed his eyes and asked, âLittle Seven?â
âYes?â Qi Mu subconsciously answered.
Min Chen: â. . .â
It wasnât until after his reflexive reply that Qi Mu noticed it wasnât his teacher calling him.
Qi Mu covered his mouth with his hand and coughed twice. He whispered, âTeacher Akkad calls me that. He doesnât know Chinese and my name is a bit of a mouthful. Did he tell you my name? I donât care if you use it, you can call me Qi Mu.â
Min Chen: â. . .â
After a long time, a low-pitched noise came from Min Chenâs throat in reply.
The applause had subsided and the second song began. Qi Mu turned his attention back to the state and did not see the indifferent man beside him lick his lips and swallow unpleasantly.
Fortunately. . . he doesnât know what I did.
ââMin Chen secretly thought.
Under the dim lighting, no one realized the man who had always been cheeky now had red ears. He coughed. No strange behavior here.
A two-hour concert was impossible to play through from start to finish without rest, so there was a fifteen-minute break in the middle. Qi Mu wanted to exchange greetings, but Akkad unexpectedly argued with Min Chen about the orchestraâs personnel configuration.
Akkad had never been a conductor, he was once the concertmaster for the Dresden Symphony Orchestra before he moved to the National Conservatory of Music.
He worked as a concertmaster of three world-class symphonies for decades of his musical career. Even if he had never commanded an orchestra, he could comment professionally on the positioning.
Akkad believed the second violin group was a bit large for this concert. Once he learned Min Chen decided the staffing, the two argued with each other.
In the end, Akkad was convinced by Min Chenâs three reasons, but by then, the break was over and Schumannâs ăAbegg Variationsă had begun.
Therefore, Qi Mu had to sit back and continue listening.
Robert Schumann was a famous German pianist and composer of the 19th century. His works were almost exclusively piano pieces. The entire world thought only the piano could display these musical pieces perfectly.
There was a time where no adaptation of Schumannâs songs into orchestral form could be found without a piano ensemble. To find a concert of five of his songs without even the hint of a piano like Bai Ai did tonight, this was a first.
After the concert had officially ended, Akkad stood and applauded enthusiastically without being stingy about his praise. âMin, I thought you would perform as a pianist this time, but I didnât think. . . you wouldnât be on stage at all!â
Min Chen nodded and replied bluntly, âI might go up during later performances, but for the first show, Daniel said. . . to be innovative and creative.â
That provoked Akkadâs eyebrow into rising. âThe adaptation of these songs donât tell me that Daniel Duke kid did it. He wants to let all his hair fall out, itâs impossible.â After a pause, he added, âWell, if he hasnât lost it all already, his blond head should be bald by now.â
âPffft. . .â
Min Chen looked over when Qi Mu laughed, and his own lips curled into a smile. âItâs my and Charlesâ adaptation. Christole helped some too. In fact, what did Daniel do. . .â He deliberately drew it out, and when Qi Mu turned to look at him curiously, he was appeased.
Min Chen met his gaze and said, âHe brewed coffee, hm. . . it didnât taste all that good.â
Qi Mu almost choked on his laughter.
Akkad didnât seem to own a humorous cell in his body. He nodded then, as if recalling something, asked, âWait a minute. If youâre neither conductor nor pianist. . . why is your name on the poster at the entrance? Yours was the biggest?!â
At this sudden accusation, Min Chen blinked a little and frowned in contemplation. âBecause. . . I am the music director?â
Akkad snorted. âYou donât introduce the orchestra, what kind of director are you?â His tone was disgusted, and his lazy glare at Min Chen was more than enough to express his disdain for âthis man that had his named printed on the poster and pinned up.â
Min Chen did not care about Akkadâs contempt and nodded, his response bland, âOh, then itâs probably because. . . I am handsome.â
Qi Mu: â. . .â
Akkad: â. . .â
âAuston! I didnât know you were such a narcissist!â
The corners of Min Chenâs lips curled, and he raised his head, âYou only just found out?â
Akkad: â. . .â
Wanting to get angry at this poisonous man, Master Akkad needed to practice some more. . . come back after another 500 years.