For the past seven or so days, Qi Mu wandered all over Paris hoping to find even a shred of inspiration from its romantic atmosphere. Of course, he found it but controlling it was another matter.
With the piano accompaniment just now, he grasped the elusive thing he had been searching forââthat endless inspiration, dancing freely in the air.
The brisk but elegant piano was clearly just an accompaniment, but it used an objective perspective to guide the violin in another direction. Whenever Qi Muâs violin was about to stall, the piano would pick it up and guide him to the next big tide.
Qi Mu stared at the man behind the piano. After a long while, he frowned, but the corners of his lips curled slightly upward. âI really. . . I donât know how to describe it but, Min Chen. . . I think Iâve caught it, a little.â
Min Chenâs eyebrow raised, âCan you grasp it?â
He thought about it carefully for a moment and shook his head helplessly: âIt feels like. . . there is still some unclear points. Like the finger technique or something. I didnât change any of the technique, but I always there are still some changes to be made. I really. . . donât know how to describe it.â
Qi Muâs left hand pressed the strings, but he didnât pick up his bow. He wanted to feel that strange feeling again. But unfortunately, after a few more attempts, it remained at a fancy, still elusive, and he failed to capture it.
âI think. . . this still wonât do.â
Min Chen was already quite surprised to see him make such significant progress with just this one session. He naturally didnât think Qi Muâs violin would make this much of a qualitative leap in only one ensemble.
At least, Qi Muâs performance of ăNo. 24ă just now was on par with Christoleâs.
If once wasnât enough, then they could play it twice, even thrice.
Min Chen calmly said, âThen weâll continue.â
Qi Mu: â. . . ?â
âYou continue, I will follow.â
The words surprised Qi Mu, and he said, âMin Chen, I donât know how long will it take for me to fully grasp the feeling. If you really continue to help me, wonât it. . . take too much of your time?â
Min Chen lifted his gaze and looked at Qi Mu with a smile. âYou think. . . it will take a long time?â
Qi Mu froze. A second later, he responded to the other manâs question, âI think it wonât take all that long.â
âA week?â
Qi Mu smiled and shook his head, âThat exceeds the deadline teacher gave me. Five days, at most.â
Min Chenâs slender fingers caressed the black and white piano keys. He scrutinized the grand piano then looked up at Qi Mu and said, âThree days. . . perhaps.â
Though he was surprised, Qi Mu did not refute.
Again, the sound of a violin and piano emerged from within the quiet music room.
By the door, Dylan watched the two dark-haired men work in sync with each other. He didnât quite understand. . . What were these two men talking about just now? What one week, five days, three days?
Could it be. . . a secret code?
But then again, it turned out his ăFazioliă could play such a beautiful No. 24! Why did he feel like he was playing cotton before. . .
The owner of the music roomââDylan felt the malice of the vast universe today.
. . .
On the first day of their practice session, Qi Mu assigned a five-day time limit which Min Chen reduced to three. When Min Chen said that, he was slightly joking, but he didnât expectââ
The youth really did it, and it was. . . even better than he thought it would be!
On the second day of their practice session, the captivating sunset dyed the western skies, and the sun shifted toward the horizon moment by moment. Min Chen pressed the piano keys rapidly but suddenly noticed. . . he could no longer control Qi Muâs rhythm!
The sweet sound of the violin resounded in the room, broken free from all shackles and dancing freely.
Originally, Min Chen intended to only play the role of accompaniment and guide Qi Mu. But by the end of the first practice, Min Chen felt that his piano already lost its grip on Qi Mu.
In fact, as the lead, Qi Mu should have guided Min Chenâs piano and made it a foil to his violin. However, there were very few masters in the world who were capable of that feat (making Min Chenâs piano a foil), and Mr. Akkad was one of them. But this was his student, not the man himself.
During another fast pace pizzicato, Qi Muâs violin was so full of impact and overflowing with intense emotion that it startled Min Chen, and he inevitably missed a beat. Qi Mu, immersed in his playing, didnât even notice it.
When Qi Mu played this time, he had fully grasped that mischievous inspiration. After only two days of continuous practice, Qi Mu finally took the final step and let his bow bounce freely across the strings.
He already mastered the necessary skills, but only now would he dare to say: âThis is my ăNo. 24ă.â
The sound of the violin was like a Phoenix of Nirvana, that which was born anew only once every five hundred years, bursting with infinite glory. The violin had a growing momentum, but it missed the mark a little.
Suddenly, the piano that was only accompanying the violin since the beginning joined the main melody. Its magnificence increased sharply and refused to lose to the violin.
Through years of practice, the manâs fingers slid on the keys and soon joined the violin. The melody blended seamlessly without conflict or abruptness, perfect in harmony.
The moment Akkad returned to Paris, he went to the college. He believed that his lovely student wouldnât slack off. Even if he wasnât in Paris, Qi Mu would continue to practice hard to achieve the desired results.
Therefore, as soon as he arrived at the college, Akkad went straight to his music room.
Akkadâs music room was in the innermost part of the violin departmentâs first floor. It had the best lighting, a large glass window, and also occupied the largest area. The soundproofing was so fantastic that it was almost impossible for sound inside to leak.
Of course, these were Akkadâs personal benefits, other rooms did not have such luxury. For example, as he stepped into the corridor, the sound of a violin and piano echoed with exciting melody.
Akkadâs footsteps halted, and he murmured to himself, âThis violin. . . is it Little Seven?â
His heart was overjoyed, but he didnât stay happy for long as he suddenly realized, âWait a minute, where did he get a piano? This is definitely not a CD, someone is playing live?â
This was the violin department, there were almost no piano students here. But after thinking for a moment, Akkad remembered, âOh, that Dylan boy next door plays the piano. It must be that fellow playing with Little Seven.â
Touching his chin, Akkad walked to Dylanâs room and murmured, âGeez, this Dylan is really good. To have someone at this level, what is the piano department doing? Why didnât the piano department hold onto him?â
He crept towards the door and carefully pushed the door open, making little to no noise. In the room, Qi Mu stood facing the piano with his eyes closed, so he didnât notice Akkadâs arrival.
Professor Akkad smiled and enjoyed the melody for a while. He then turned to look at the person playing the piano. Unfortunately, from his spot, the pianistâs figure was mostly obscured by the piano panel, but he could still see the personâs handsome jaw.
This Dylan guy could really play the piano, or. . . he could recommend this person to Farrell later? This should be more than enough for Dresden.
ââWas Professor Akkadâs thoughts.
Qi Mu had yet to notice someone had opened the door and was secretly peeping.
It was hard to grasp this rare inspiration, so Qi Mu didnât want to be distracted even a little. His fingers slid across the strings, and the bow in his right hand was pulled fast, tapping uniformly from time to time.
Paganiniâs works were really suitable for showing off dazzling skills. For a handsome and refined young man to play with such beautiful and gorgeous skills, even Akkad felt refreshed and happy watching him.
Of course, while Dylanâs face wasnât visible, Akkad had to admit that the skills the pianist showed off were good enough. He changed to Lisztâs version of ăNo. 24ă to suppress his studentâs violin with even more dazzling ability.
But, how could Dylan easily suppress Little Seven as he desired?
In the duration of the roughly six-minutes-long song, the sound of violin and piano were compatible and, in the end, there was nothing that could indicate which was the lead and which one was suppressed.
When the finale came to an end, Professor Akkad clapped and shouted, âBravo!â
Qi Mu suddenly come back to his senses. He looked at Akkad who stood at the door and asked, âTeacher, why are you back today? Werenât you supposed to be back tomorrow?!â
Akkad stepped forward and said, âI came back a day in advance to see if you were slacking off. Little Seven, ah, do you want to eat chocolate? Teacher brought some back from Italy for you, haha!â He lifted the chocolate bag in his hand.
Qi Mu took the bag, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and said, âThank you, teacher.â
Professor Akkad nodded, satisfied, and said, âI didnât expect your skills to rise to this level in just a few days. Very good, Little Seven. You completed the task I gave you three days in advance. Your performance on No. 24 just now was great! I think you now understand what you lacked.â
This high praise from his teacher stunned Qi Mu, but then he smiled, âTeacher, I think. . . I get it now.â
Akkad said with relief, âThatâs great, thatâs great. As long as you understand this point, let alone a year, I think in half a year, you could surpass that guy Auston. Let him know. . .â
âTeacher. . .â
âLet him see, how much better than him you are. . .â
âTeacher. . .â Qi Mu weakly said.
âDonât worry, Little Seven. That Auston guy has too many things, heâs so greedy. . .â
Qi Mu knew that nothing could be salvaged this time. He covered his face, sighed, and said, âTeacher, you. . .â
âI donât know if heâs had the time to practice these years. Maybe heâs regressed that even Dylan could match him now. Oh right, speaking of Dylan, I didnât expect that big silly piano could play so well, not bad. Little Seven, youâre. . .â
âHey! Professor Akkad, Seven! Youâre both here?!â
A high-pitched voice came from the direction of the door. Akkad and Qi Mu turned, following the sound, and saw Dylan scratching the back of his head. âI went out to buy some burgers. I didnât expect to see youâre already back, Professor Akkad.â
Akkad nodded and said, âOh, Dylan, I just mentioned you. You play the piano well, why did you suddenly switch to the violin? With your skill level, youâre good enough for Dresden. . . eh. . .â
Akkad stopped abruptly. He turned to look at Qi Mu in horror. The young man smiled helplessly and gently shook his head, motioning towards the piano.
Suddenly having an ominous premonition, the little old man gulped but before he could make a sound, he saw a slender hand stretching out from behind the piano, and it waved at him twice.
Immediately after, a handsome, familiar face appeared in front of him.
Min Chen waved again, âHi, Reed. Long time no see.â
Akkad: â. . .â
Qi Mu: â. . .â
Min Chen solemnly said, âI practice the piano daily, donât slander me.â