There was a flightless bird in the vast land of Africa. Because they couldnât fly and, thus, were unable to escape to the sky, whenever they were in danger, this bird would bury its head in the sand and pretend that nothing happened.
This was the Ostrich.
Farrell had traveled all over the world in his career, so of course, he had seen one before. But currently, he was surprised. âAngel, why are you more like an ostrich than an actual ostrich. . .â
Qi Mu: â. . .â
Qi Mu followed Farrell to Dresden three days after that âsurprise declaration.â
In those three days, Qi Mu didnât mention a word about it. He even ignored text messages and phone calls from a certain person. If not for the fact that Farrell also heard it and his ears hadnât deteriorated to that extent, even he would have doubted that he had heard the confession correctly.
Fortunately, he didnât dissolve the ăLittle Angel Practice Roomă group chat, so he was sure it had happened, judging by the on-going curses Reed chanted daily!
Although he wasnât a Britain-born gentleman who wouldnât talk about anything even if he saw it, born as a romantic and open French, Farrell was by no means homophobic. Even though there werenât many homosexuals in the classical music industry, they were not exactly uncommon. And if he really was homophobic, there wouldnât be any in his orchestra.
Looking at the youthâs red cheeks, Farrell smiled and said while thinking itâs so nice being young, âForget it, itâs a matter of the youth. I donât mind. Angel, youâre the shyest child Iâve ever seen. So cute!â
Qi Mu didnât lift his head and continued to pack up his violin without a word.
âFortunately, Reed has been so busy lately that he has no time to deal with it. Otherwise, I believe that. . . he really wonât sit by idly.â Farrell set down his cup of coffee and smiled at the young man opposite him. âBut Angel, my thoughts differ from that of Reedâs. In my opinion, although Auston is a bit cold, he is a worthy man. He is very dedicated, so if you have some feelings for him. . . donât let the chance slip by.â
Qi Mu buried his head even lower, only letting Farrell see a bit of his chin from across the table.
The maestro laughed and said nothing more.
Before long, Mrs. Lewis came in carrying several plates of fried eggs and ham and placed it on the table. Although she didnât know what happened, it didnât prevent her from falling in love with this beautiful, lovely child at first sight.
âAngel, would you like more ham? Youâre so thin, that wonât do!â
Qi Mu nodded, head still hung low and said, âThank you, Mrs. Audrey.â Then, he went to the other side of the table and began todayâs breakfast.
Since Farrell himself invited Qi Mu to Dresden, there was no way he would leave him in a hotel.
As one of the worldâs top four conductors, Farrell Lewis certainly wasnât short of money. But his house wasnât something you could call luxurious. He lived in a building of about a hundred apartments.
When Qi Mu arrived, Mrs. Audrey loved him so much that she often made delicious meals and was very considerate towards him. In such an environment, Qi Muâs life became very routine, going out with Farrell everyday for sightseeing and coming back at night.
And just last night, Farrell invited him to the next Dresden Symphony Orchestraâs concert. This made Qi Mu feel honored but also fired him up at the same time.
All in all, this trip to Dresden was enjoyable. Of course, if Farrell didnât talk about âthatâ every day. . . Qi Mu might be even happier.
In Europe, black-haired, black-eyed Asians were conspicuous. Especially ones that were gorgeous.
The longest to pursue Qi Mu in his past life was Luo Yu Sen. It took him three years to move Qi Mu and, at that time, he decided to live in harmony with him for the rest of their lives.
However, among all the confessions, when Qi Mu heard that manâs simpleââ
âI like you,â he blushed so hard, and his heart accelerated so much he couldnât ignore it.
Qi Muâs explanation to himself was, âWell, it must be because itâs Min Chen. That must be it. . . Yes, I have worshipped Min Chen for over a decade so that must be why. . .â
On this side, Xiao Qi continued acting like an ostrich while on the other side. . . Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra was in full swing.
It was unknown who leaked the news, but in a matter of two or three days, almost everyone in Bai Ai knewââ
âThe conductor likes someone!â
The rumor spread and soon, it turned intoââ
âThe conductor likes Little Seven from the other day!â
A few hours laterââ
âEvery time he was on the phone, it was actually Little Seven!â
The morning of the third dayââ
âGood heavens! The conductor]âs actually already proposed to him!!!â
Although the orchestra discussed it in private, and there were even some bets going on as to when their great Mr. Bertram was going to put an end to his diamond-bachelor status, on the surface, they still practiced diligently every day to prepare for the next seasonâs performance.
And now, their conference room was the freezing Pacific Ocean.
A handsome, indifferent man sat in a black chair, staring blankly ahead. On his right hand was a Rainier grey-gem fountain pen. He turned the delicate, beautiful pen between his slender fingers, the afterimage twirling like a flower.
In addition to playing piano, these hands could make even the simplest act of turning a pen appear graceful.
Opposite him at the conference table, Daniel raised his hands in surrender and said, âMin! You must believe me! I really, really didnât tell anyone about you and Little Angel! You must believe me! I really didnât tell anyone! If I really did. . . Then I will be bald later! No! Iâll be bald tomorrow!!!â
Christole, beside him, couldnât help but laugh.
Min Chen glanced at Daniel casually, but it made the blond tremble, becoming cold/, and he shrank his neck fearfully.
After a long while, Min Chen spoke flatly, âYou really want to shave your head?â
Daniel couldnât respond for a moment, ââŠEh? What?â
Christole kindly explained, âI think what Auston meant was you really will be bald now. After all. . . if it wasnât you, then who?â
Daniel was immediately dissatisfied, âMin! Weâve known each other for more than ten years, do you really think Iâm that kind of person? Watching my good brother whoâs expected to be a bachelor all his life finding a person he likes, would I really disturb your pursuit? This is absolutely impossible! It wasnât me!â
Min Chen glanced at Daniel, and Christole took the chance to say, âDaniel, you might not have told people directly but what about, like. . . Did you talk about it over the phone, in a conversation, or something in a public space?â
Daniel immediately retorted, âWho can I talk to about this? Only Angel, Min, Mister Farrell, and Professor Akkad know this, itâs impossible for them. . . Ah. . .â
Daniel choked on his words and stopped talking. Christole just smiled and asked, âSo, who did you call?â
After a moment, Daniel burst into tears, âMin! I really didnât mean to. . . If I hadnât blocked Professor Akkadâs phone, how could you happily chat with Angel every day? Even though it doesnât look like heâs been replying to you. . . But I did that for you!!!â
Min Chen: â. . .â
Christole: â. . .â
After repeated vows to repent, Min Chen was too lazy to listen to this broken-mouthed idiot. At a signal of his eyes, Christole smiled and left the room, leaving the two to solve their conflict. Daniel instinctively wanted to run away.
But before his legs could even take a step, the door closed with a âclick.â He heard the other manâs low voice, âStand up.â
Danielâs back was drenched with sweat, and he turned his head with a dry smile, âHaha. . . Min. . .â
Min Chen stared at Daniel, not that far away, and his expression grew more and more solemn. After a while, he sighed and asked, âThat Luo Yu Sen thing. . . did you get anything?â
Daniel straightened up at once, his face expressionless. He nodded solemnly and sat in the chair nearest to Min Chen. âHeâs a little slippery. Someone over there in Vienna sent me a message just this morning. I think. . . itâs important.â
There was a faint flash in Min Chenâs eyes, and he nodded, indicating for Daniel to continue.
Outside the window, the Berlin sky was bright and blue, and in Dresden, a few hundred miles apart, Qi Mu carried his violin case into the Dresden Symphony Orchestraâs rehearsal hall.
This is the first time he would work with the worldâs oldest symphony orchestra.
He had been just an observer the past two days, but now, he really wasââ