Chapter 96
Although Qi Mu was only a temporary member of the first violin group, for a top orchestra like this, any small change was vital.
Qi Mu wasn't familiar with 《The Magic Flute》, so he made a few slight mistakes in the early rehearsals. Fortunately, he responded quickly and was also a quick learner. Using his absolute pitch to memorize each of the sounds in the orchestra, Qi Mu was basically starved for the chance to play by the third rehearsal.
The days Qi Mu experienced with Farrell were good ones. His gentleness was akin to that of the spring breeze, and he was unbiased towards everyone. It was no wonder this man was voted No. 3 in the most mild-tempered conductor world poll.
It was not that Farrell wasn't gentle enough, it's just that. . . Boswell, who ranked first, and Dorenza, in second, was so powerful Farrell could only sit at third place.
This left a deep impression on Qi Mu who had survived ten years in the heat of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra. These days, he really understood the differences between conductors!
For example, during the afternoon rehearsal today, a member of the trumpet group played the wrong note. If this was Vienna, well. . . the poor sap would have been chewed out by Evra until he wouldn't even dare lift his head.
But at Dresden?
Farrell waited until the section was over before smiling at the erred member and gently said, "Oh, Kenny, you're too nervous. You've played well all this time, so relax and pay attention to the pitch. You'll do better next time."
You see, there was nothing to compare here between Evra and Farrell.
Of course, Qi Mu had now cooperated with the world's top three best-tempered conductors. If such achievements were to be laid out on the Danube forum, it would be a perfect anecdote and soon become the hottest post of the day.
But what Qi Mu didn't expect was by the end of the day, he would hear Evra's name. At that time, Qi Mu was packing his violin case when he overheard the wind group's discussion--
"Well, Cooke complained again today that Mr. Evra is so cruel."
"Cooke's condition is a bit off lately, so it's normal for Mr. Evra to say something. At least Mr. Evra is frank, even though he scolds you, he guides you. Unlike Mr. Bertram, even if he doesn't say a word, people will tremble. . ."
"Don't say it. Mayer posted anonymously on the Danube forum at noon saying Mr. Bertram is on leave today. Christole led the afternoon rehearsal."
"Oh! What a happy event, Christole has a good temper!"
. . .
When these words reached Qi Mu's ears, he was so surprised his eyebrows furrowed.
Although. . . although Min Chen was awkward, stingy, vengeful, had a poisonous tongue, was black-bellied with a good face and a bit afraid of bugs, was his temper really so bad? Generally speaking, he was a kind person.
After all, the things Jenny said about Bertram. . .
"Hey! What are you talking about?! Mr. Bertram is very kind and considerate, isn't he a gentleman?! Don't talk nonsense here!"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Well, before he could remember the exact words, the person who uttered them appeared first.
The group didn't know whether to tearfully laughing while apologizing to the "guardian" Jenny. The old men were forced to flee by the young woman.
Jenny was sullen for a while but suddenly remembered the reason she was there. The female yaksha abruptly smiled. Though she wasn't beautiful, her smile was friendly and made her approachable.
But right now, Qi Mu. . . couldn't associate this woman with a kind smile to that yaksha just now.
Jenny went over to Qi Mu and said with a smile, "Angel, I came because Mr. Farrell asked for you." Qi Mu was about to leave at once, and she smiled again, "Go straight ahead, I'll help with your stuff. It looks like Mr. Farrell wanted to say a word or two, so it shouldn't be long."
Qi Mu smiled and said, "Okay. Thank you, Jenny."
In the rehearsal hall, a handsome young man walked ahead toward the conductor's lounge behind the stage. Behind him, the female violinist sat on a chair, watching over his violin case and phone.
It took him three minutes to walk to the backstage from the hall.
The maestro told Qi Mu that he and his wife, Audrey, were going out tonight to have a candlelight dinner and share a romantic, warm world for only the two of them.
Since it was a two-person world, of course, one couldn't bring a giant light bulb along. So he gave him the key, telling him to go back alone and eat something on the way.
Qi Mu naturally agreed. Although the fact that Farrell and Audrey were in their sixties but still regularly went out on a date together every week was somewhat unexpected, their love of more than 40 years made him slightly envious.
The vibrant sunset shone through the stained-glass window making the glass looked even more dazzling.
Qi Mu walked alone down the long corridor. For some reason, he suddenly stopped in front of the tall Gothic-style window and stared at it in a daze.
Over 40 years of love. . .
When put together, it didn't seem much in comparison to the years he had lived.
Why was he suddenly a bit envious?
If he could be with Min for 40 years. . .
His light eyes opened wide, and he was stunned, standing frozen in the same place. He couldn't believe the fact that name just popped up in his mind.
There wasn't a single movement in the corridor for quite a while. It wasn't until a small, black bird perched on a branch of a tree outside flapped its wings and flew away that Qi Mu was suddenly awakened from his reverie, and he clenched his fist.
He once again continued toward the rehearsal hall. His shocked expression had already returned to normal as if nothing happened.
Qi Mu had just stepped into the rehearsal hall when he heard the familiar ringtone of his mobile phone before he could even spot Jenny.
He used 《Concerto in E minor》 as his ringtone until a few months ago when he changed it to Paganini's 《La Campanella》 played by himself. So when the melody rang out, he knew it was his phone.
Qi Mu hastened his pace, but before he could come close, he heard a sudden cry, "My God! Min. . .Chen?! That's Mr. Bertram's Chinese name!"
Qi Mu suddenly had a bad feeling. His steps quickened, but just 10 meters away, he heard Jenny's voice again, "Ah. . . Mr. Bertram? Well, I'm not Angel. I'm Jenny, Jenny from Dresden. . . Ah, Angel? Angel was called by Mr. Farrell just now, and he needed me to. . . Ah! Mr. Bertram, Angel is back! Do you want me to give him the phone?"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
What was the Chinese saying again? Escape on the first day but can't hide on the fifteenth.
Facing Jenny's expression full of expectation and excitement, Qi Mu could only sigh softly and take over the phone. Setting it to his ear, Qi Mu hadn't yet spoken when he heard the magnetic voice through the speaker--
"Qi Mu."
Time suddenly flashed back to three days ago. It was this voice and intonation that gently said the same two words while the vinyl rotated.
Qi Mu was stunned for a while. After the other man repeated his name, he let out a bitter, helpless laugh and answered, "Well. . . I'm here."
Over the past three days, Qi Mu had ignored dozens of text messages and countless phone calls from this man. Now that he heard the man's voice again, it felt like a century had passed.
On the other side of the line, Min Chen was silent for a while before whispering, "I'm in Paris."
Qi Mu understood the meaning of his words in an instant. He was frozen for a moment before replying automatically, "I'm in Dresden?"
"Well." The man answered. There was the sound of a car passing by, it sounded like Min Chen was walking. He then continued, "I've been very busy lately. Dresden is close to Berlin, but, in the next week, I might not have time to spare."
Qi Mu didn't know how to answer. He could only hum as a reply.
For a while, neither of them spoke. Qi Mu could only listen to the wind coming from the speaker, and suddenly, he heard a familiar bell chime, bright and clear.
With a flash of inspiration, Qi Mu asked, "Where exactly in Paris are you?"
"I'm at your house, downstairs." After a pause, Min Chen's voice contained a slight smile, "You're not at home, the window is dark. It's only two floors. . . I should be able to climb up."
Qi Mu finally couldn't stop himself from laughing. He could imagine the man with a very good face casually climbing up the window of his house and being caught by the police or neighbors but still calmly explaining it away as he just forgot his keys.
Well, there's no doubt this man would do such a thing.
"Didn't you own a house in Paris? It's late now, don't climb my window if you're not going back to Berlin today. I locked the door and windows when I left." The joke made Qi Mu's tight nerves relaxed. He thought for a while and said, "If you're hungry, the croissants from the bakery you like across the street are good. The boss is German. You can talk to him for a while."
Over there, it seemed Min Chen had started walking again. Qi Mu heard the whirring sound of wind blowing, then Min Chen's spoke again, "What's the name of the bakery?"
This time, Min Chen spoke fluent German instead of Mandarin.
Qi Mu automatically replied, "1iebedin??" But as soon as his voice fell, Qi Mu realized what he had said. In an instant, a red flush spread across the youth's fair cheeks.
Qi Mu quickly reached out to cover his face and whispered, embarrassed, "The owner is German, and the shop's name. . . that. Well, I have something to do here. I can't talk to you, see you later."
After that, Qi Mu hang up in a hurry without waiting for the other man's response. At this moment, he could feel his cheeks burning, and he had yet to recover from the impact of the words he just said.
But when Qi Mu looked up, Jenny with startled eyes wide waited for him, "My God! Angel, did I mishear?! Did you just say '1ebedih' to Mr. Bertram?! It turns out. . . you guys are in that relationship!"
When Qi Mu spoke to Min Chen before, they used Mandarin which naturally, Jenny couldn't understand even a word of. But the phrase "1iebedih" was the only thing she did understand and that shocked her to the point she couldn't pick her jaw off the floor.
Qi Mu: ". . .No! Jenny, listen to me. There's a bakery named that near my house. Really!"
Jenny shook her head and said incredulously, "But, Angel, since it's a bakery in Paris, why is the name German?"
Qi Mu immediately responded in defense, "Jenny, that's because the owner is German, so he named his shop in German."
Jenny looked at Qi Mu with disbelieving eyes, but her mouth still said, "Okay, Angel, I see. Near your house, there's a bakery named '1iebedih' whose owner, though German, ran to Paris to open the bakery and named it '1iebedih'. I see. Rest assured, Angel, I won't tell anyone."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Ich liebe dich。
In German, it meant I love you.
Then. . . Liebe dich?
Yes--love you.
Chapter 97
Luckily for Qi Mu, Jenny wasn't that loud of a speaker.
The next day, he was busy tuning his violin before the next rehearsal when Jenny sat beside him. She flashed a smile that said, "I understand, you know. I'll keep your secret," after sending him a fervent look.
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Even though you say that, you don't understand anything! Ah!
When a professional orchestra began rehearsal, all members had to focus. They couldn't be distracted. Even Qi Mu, whose thoughts wavered, pinned all of his attention on Farrell's every command.
Some laymen may think the conductor was just someone that stood at the podium and gestured around, having little to no effect on the play itself. He didn't need to play, nor did he need to shoot a video. He simply gestured, waving his arms around. What exactly did a conductor do?
In fact, the conductor was the orchestra's soul.
The stage was the best place to experience music. Standing at the front, the conductor could hear every sound and could adjust and blend them together into something masterful.
The conductor decided the style, the rhythm, and how to salvage every unavoidable mistake.
Farrell stood at the podium with his hands raised. They dropped, and the orchestra fell silent. Then, he turned to the first violin group at his left and raised his left hand gently. A silvery, soft melody filled the air.
Although Qi Mu wasn't concertmaster or deputy concertmaster, Farrell gave him a good spot to see the conductor's movements for himself.
Qi Mu had served as concertmaster in the past with B City's Symphony Orchestra. This was the first time he would perform with a high-level orchestra since returning to Europe.
The youth's slender fingers danced along the fingerboard, and he along with the other members of the group pulled their bows like the flutter of a butterfly's wings. A fierce struggle soon churned in the air above the stage.
A moment later, the wind instruments roared. The melody grew in power, followed by the entire orchestra, and the fierce rhythm resonated throughout the entire rehearsal hall.
Each note in 《The Magic Flute》 conveyed the tension, fear, hatred, and suspense belonging to the opera.
Aside from the two minor errors on the first day, Qi Mu hadn't had any problems.
When practice ended, and everyone took their afternoon tea break, Farrell waved his hand. He asked, hesitating, "Angel. . . can you distinguish each individual instrument in the orchestra?"
Though he hadn't expected the question, Qi Mu understood why it was asked, so he answered, "Yes, Mr. Farrell. My sense of sound is good. I can hear each of them."
Farrell looked at the youth with a conflicted gaze.
The spotlight overhead shone on the youth's black hair. Although his eyes were slightly hidden by his hair, it made his facial features stand out even more. Farrell knew from the moment he nicknamed him "Angel". . . That this youth was a lovely child.
But now, he hesitated some on the child's future.
Farrell sighed, "Angel, my perfect pitch was honed day by day with experience. Though I can hear every instrument and the musician that plays them, I will never be able to pick out a newly replaced string like Auston."
After a pause, he continued, "Auston's ability was given by God, not acquired. If you'd like, I can accept you as my student. I think. . . even Auston would be happy to accept you as his student."
Qi Mu froze. Only then did he understand what Farrell meant. He shook his head and smiled. "Mr. Farrell, I understand what you mean, but. . . I don't want that. I like the violin, and I don't want to do anything else. Besides. . ."
He looked up. "Mr. Farrell, do you think, if I became a conductor. . . could I defeat Min Chen?"
Farrell was stunned. He smiled. Then he shook his head. "That's too difficult, Angel. You are talented, but I have never been able to understand Auston. And. . . you're ten years younger than him."
Qi Mu asked a second question, "Then, do you think. . . I could create a piece better than 《Wandering》?"
《Wandering》 was Min Chen's most classic masterpiece. Because of its difficult technique and profound connotation, the piano sonata became popular at piano competitions.
Farrell shook his head again. "A good piece needs not only talent but inspiration. Even Auston himself doesn't know if he could create another 《Wandering》."
Farrell was no longer reluctant. "Angel, I'm glad you have your own goal, and I support you on your path. From the first time I heard your 《Liang Zhu》 in Huaxia's S City, I knew you'd become great in the future."
This was the first time Qi Mu heard Farrell mention that time from so long ago. Eyes wide with surprise, he said, "Thank you, Mr. Farrell, but I still need to work harder."
A brilliant smile as warm as a spring breeze lit the child's face. It even comforted Farrell, and he couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh! Angel, I've always thought giving you such an apt name was the best thing I've ever done!"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
"Whenever I go somewhere, I can't help but say--'Hey, in the magical land of Huaxia, far in the East, I met a lovely Angel whose violin is so beautiful I can't help but be moved'!"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
"Look, Angel! I can't wait to show you off to my friends!"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
He asked, reluctantly, "Mr. Farrell, if I may ask. . . which masters have you spoken to about me?"
Qi Mu grit his teeth in wait, but Farrell didn't notice. The older musician smiled, "Boswell from New York, Dorenza in Vienna, and that Zayev from the BBC in the UK. . ."
At the familiar list of names, the stiff smile on Qi Mu's face became even more difficult to maintain.
That was basically saying--
This black-pink fan! Of course, now it didn't look like a fan at all, but a black fan (anti-fan) as black as a sesame seed!!!
The Dresden Symphony Orchestra had such intense rehearsals for the Opera Concert that summer. Vienna, however, was entering its calm hibernation. Except for the occasional small concert in some theater or another, few maestros performed solo concerts.
The hot sun shone out of the clear blue, hot enough steam billowed from the earth. On the first floor of a small two-story building near the center of the city, a window screen was pulled shut tight, not a glimmer of light allowed entry.
The room was so messy one couldn't bear looking inside directly. Materials of all kinds were sprawled everywhere, and there were papers even nailed to the wall.
At a table in the middle of the room, a man with messy hair stared at a stack of papers on the table, frustrated almost to the point of collapse.
"My God. . . What the hell is going on with this thing? Why is it impossible to find out who bailed him out of prison?!"
"Damn it," The man whispered to himself, "It can't be his parents. They're ordinary people, they don't have that much ability. . . Who the hell was it!"
The man broke down again. Just as he went to pick up his clothes to go out and search for more evidence, his assistant knocked on the door. Pushing it open, the assistant whispered, "Mr. Charles, a letter for you."
Charles, one of Vienna's famous private detectives, was surprised. "Mine?" he asked, "Where did it come from?"
The assistant shook his head. "There's no stamp. It was stuffed in the mailbox. Would you like to see it?"
Despite having seen every sort of danger, Charles took the letter and opened it.
It was impossible for such a thin letter to contain explosives or sulphuric acid. Puzzled, Charles looked at the white paper containing only a single line of an address.
"Strange. . . There's only one line of address, it's really. . ."
Charles' words halted when he saw the name on the paper.
The other side of the paper bore only a common Chinese name. Although it was only three characters, it was enough to surprise Charles. Those three words were--Luo Yu Sen.
Chapter 98
Dresden was one of Germany's best-known tourist cities. Its music center, Semperoper, was would-famous. The solemn, sacred-looking opera house, the Zwinger Palace, and Dresden Frauenkirche were called Dresden's "three tourist magnets."
Qi Mu played an adapted version of the opera 《Des Knaben Wunderhorn》 at his audition for the New York Philharmonic's Orchestra's competition in Hong Kong last year. At the time, he also admitted that he rarely listened to opera and knew very little about them.
Therefore, when the opera troupe first joined the rehearsals, Qi Mu couldn't adjust right away. It took a few rehearsals together before he got used to it.
During the two weeks of intense rehearsal, Qi Mu experienced first-hand exactly how a three-hour opera came into being. This included the stage prop production, the opera singers' positions, and even the detailed lighting arrangement.
There was no such complicated process for a symphony concert. Qi Mu only needed to rehearse carefully and perform flawlessly in the concert to have a successful ending.
But opera wasn't that simple. After he went home with Farrell, Qi Mu would borrow the man's books to study every day.
In this regard, Audrey felt it was a bit incomprehensible. She often made snacks for the young man who stayed up late in the study and once asked him, "Angel, since you don't intend to make a career in opera, then why. . . read all these books? These are all opera symphonies."
Her words made Qi Mu lift his gaze from the book packed with German words. He looked up and smiled at the kind lady. He answered, "Mrs. Audrey, we Chinese have an old saying that says it's never too late to learn. There's still a lot I don't know, so I hope to enrich myself as much as I can."
When the appreciation in Mrs. Audrey's gaze grew, Qi Mu blinked and asked, "And. . . Do you think I will ever have the opportunity to see such precious materials as in this study in the future? There are so many treasures here that I just want to steal them all away."
"Oh! Angel, you're welcome to visit anytime. You're such a sweet and lovely child!"
Such an answer clearly pleased Audrey and, to Farrell, Qi Mu gave another reason for reading those books, "Mr. Farrell, Min Chen gave me a relatively novel idea to adapt opera pieces to symphony last year."
When talking about this, Qi Mu couldn't help but smile, "However, though he had experimented with this, it seemed as if he had never put it into practice, so. . . I wanted to collect more information and try to iron out the kinks."
Farrell's interest was also piqued by this. "Oh? I've heard of this, but I didn't realize Auston hadn't given up yet. Angel, I support your decision."
Qi Mu smiled, "Then, Mr. Farrell. . . can you explain something to me?" Qi Mu pushed the book in his hands toward Farrell.
The two had a little Q&A in the quiet study for the next hour or so. Pen in hand, Qi Mu constantly jotted down notes.
When all of his inquiries were answered more or less, Farrell took a look at his beautiful handwriting and said, "Angel, I already thought it was amazing you speak German so fluently, but I never expected. . . you could also write it so beautifully!"
Qi Mu closed his book and replied, "Mr. Farrell, I enrolled in German classes while I was in Paris. Because my foundation in Latin is good, I learned quickly."
Farrell nodded gently but, after a while, he couldn't help but say, "But Angel, your handwriting is really beautiful! You see, I'm never good at calligraphy. Fortunately, I only need to draw tadpoles when composing, so I don't need to pay much attention to my writing. Otherwise, I'd be upset." After a pause, Farrell suddenly thought, "Oh, yeah. I don't know if you've ever seen Auston's handwriting. That fellow's handwriting is so beautiful, I don't know how he manages it."
It wasn't the first time he heard that name today, so Qi Mu only smiled and didn't say a word.
Since he inadvertently answered Min Chen's phone call that day, Qi Mu once again ignored the man for over a week. The sentence "liebe dich" was like a thorn pierced deep in his heart, making it impossible for Qi Mu to ignore it.
. . . That man actually dared to trick him?!
Then he would just not answer the phone and cut the evil right from the source.
Qi Mu didn't know while he was leisurely and happily enjoying his time in peace as if isolated from the world, over here, the members of Bai Ai spent the days in fear. They began to regret how they foolishly entered Bai Ai with tears in their eyes.
They swear!
They really didn't spread the rumor the conductor was getting married next month!
How could they say such an abominable thing?!
It was a rumor, like the rumors that said they asked their friends to vote for their conductor for "the conductor with the worst temper" poll. It really was just a rumor!
But Little Angel. . . when can you give our conductor a call? We're freezing to death here, ah!
Didn't you say you'll call him everyday?! Angel, you little liar!
Of course, God is always fair. Qi Mu bowed to collect his pen and notebook, but before he could pick them up, suddenly, he heard Farrell let out a single "oh," appearing to have thought of something while staring at him in surprise.
The grey-haired maestro grinned, showing his white teeth, "Yeah, Angel, you haven't seen Auston for a while, have you? He asked for a ticket to tomorrow's performance the other day. You can talk to him tomorrow night, ah."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Precisely what did I owe you in my past life, Mis! Ter! Far! Rell!
Dresden, 7 p.m.
The summer turned Europe into a frying pan. Even with the cold sea breeze from the Atlantic Ocean, it still couldn't reach Dresden that was inland.
With Dresden being a warm and quiet city, the streets usually slowed down, preparing for a beautiful night. But this evening, the square in front of the Semperoper Opera House was crowded.
Opera enthusiasts from major cities in Germany and even from other countries were gathered here tonight to listen to what might be the biggest opera evening event of the summer. The lead singers were outstanding members of the German National Opera, and the orchestra was the Dresden Symphony--the oldest symphony in the world!
Their chief conductor, Farrell was an experienced romantic musician whose name alone was enough to entice music enthusiasts.
As it happened, tonight's concert was in July when most orchestras were on vacation. So many people were pleasantly surprised to find the chief conductor and music director of the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra, the concertmaster of the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, and the saxophone maestro from Spain in the audience. . .
And when some of the audience went to the front row, They saw the man sitting on the left side of the third row, and a few directly whispered--
"Isn't that Mr. Auston Bertram?!"
If the man who sat with a cold face was not Min Chen, then who else would it be?
Min Chen was probably the first to enter the hall. Intending to block someone and talk with them before the show started, he rushed from Berlin to Dresden at noon.
To his surprise, after he drove all the way from Berlin and finally stood backstage, Jenny regretfully informed him, "Oh, Mr. Bertram. . . Angel and Mr. Farrell said they would be here before the performance, but they're not here right now."
Min Chen: ". . ."
Jenny then sighed, "I guess Angel has something to do this afternoon, but Mr. Bertram, his violin really is wonderful. So you don't have to worry about his performance tonight, it definitely isn't inferior to mine."
Min Chen's lips pursed weakly for a while before whispering, "Thank you, Jenny. I believe in him. Thank you for taking care of Qi Mu during his time here."
After saying a few more words, Min Chen went alone to the auditorium and sat down.
Jenny, on the other hand, covered her cheeks and said excitedly, "Didn't Angel know that Mr. Bertram would be here?! He must be very excited to see Mr. Bertram! Ah! Ah! I never expected Mr. Bertram would come to our show tonight, Oh, God..."
The members of the Dresden Symphony Orchestra sighed when they saw their fangirling concertmaster who almost couldn't control herself, and collectively thought: Mike (Jenny's husband) is so sad. . .
As for Qi Mu's current whereabouts?
Min Chen guessed the young man learned of him attending the concert from Farrell and was deliberately hiding. But this time he guessed wrong. Qi Mu really wanted to avoid him, but before he could, he received a call from across the ocean.
Qi Mu smiled while packing up his things, "Yes, Zheng-Ge. I'm performing 《The Magic Flute》 with the Dresden Symphony Orchestra tonight. . . Yes, I'll work hard, you don't have to worry. Mr. Farrell takes good care of me as well. . . Oh, it's already early in the morning there. You have to take care of sister-in-law as she's pregnant right now so you should rest early. . ."
Qi Mu's conversation with Zheng Wei Qiao lasted for nearly half an hour in this manner of Qi Mu obediently assuring him with, "I won't sleep so late" and "I would never stay up to study opera symphony" until Zheng Wei Qiao was satisfied and hung up the phone.
This so-called "hanging up" had its own way of separating people.
You see. . . The great Mister Auston Bertram called him six times every day yet was hung-up on again and again while he sometimes had phone calls with Zheng Wei Qiao that lasted for half an hour every day.
You say. . . the difference between the two. . .
Why was it so large?
Chapter 99
The Semperoper Opera House's performance hall was different from other concert halls.
Normal halls in Europe were arranged with the stage in the center with the auditorium around it. This allowed the sound to extend as far as possible, and it was easier for the audience to enjoy the most beautiful music.
But, an opera house gave priority to the theatrical performance.
In most opera houses, the orchestra was a meter or so lower than the stage so the audience could focus on the performance.
An excellent orchestra would never steal the opera's spotlight. They would impress the audience with fantastic music and immerse them in the opera from start to finish.
Dresden's Orchestra was one of the most outstanding at this.
《The Magic Flute》 was the last opera Mozart wrote in his short 35 years. The dream-like story was a fairytale.
A giant serpent chased a brave, Egyptian prince, but three ladies, attendants to the Queen of the Night, saved him. The Queen showed the prince a picture of her daughter and gave him a flute. She then asked him to rescue her child from the "Devil." However, the real identity of this so-called "Devil" was the Leader of the Light Priests. Thus, the prince was deceived into killing the "Devil" because of the Queen's envy.
Just like Mozart, who experienced a turning point in his miserable life, every story had a happy ending. The prince saw through the Queen's plot and married the beautiful princess. And 《The Magic Flute》 ushered in the perfect ending.
Stories were always beautiful, but life was cruel. As the greatest opera of his life, 《The Magic Flute》 earned him endless glory but could not save his life.
While Qi Mu was in Vienna, Lance told him that he wanted Qi Mu to be like Mozard, not Beethoven.
Though he suffered illness and a miserable life from a young age, Mozart's music was positively optimistic. He believed the world was beautiful, and that good would always triumph over evil.
The second song of the first act 《Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja》 (The birdcatcher am I) was performed on stage.
The tenor sang a lively tune, dressed in flamboyant garb. Under the stage, the orchestra's melodious sound reached out to the audience.
Qi Mu had never been so glad that the orchestra had an inconspicuous position during an opera.
Qi Mu could feel a burning gaze on him as he walked onto the stage. It was so fierce it made his throat dry. He didn't dare look up.
He knew--
It was that man.
Farrell personally ensured Qi Mu's name wasn't printed on the brochures and posters to avoid misunderstandings. No one in the audience knew of Qi Mu's presence except for some of Farrell's old friends.
And. . . Who else would stare at him with that kind of burning gaze?
As a member of the first violin group, avoiding the attention was difficult. When Qi Mu could no longer feel that fiery gaze, he let out a relieved sigh. Soon, the opera began.
Once he started playing, Qi Mu's world consisted of only the orchestra's sound and the conductor on the podium.
Qi Mu served as an ordinary member. With his skills, however, he was qualified to be the concertmaster. But, once he participated, Qi Mu realized the difference between an opera and orchestral performance.
To avoid overshadowing the actors, the orchestra had to hide in the dark, making the audience forget they were there at all but for the music.
For the first time, Qi Mu was not under the stage's bright light. In the dark, he felt as if he had merged with the opera. He could play at will and dominate the stage.
When the bass began their lament, the cello whimpered. The soprano roared in anger, and the violin and wind instruments echoed with a rumble.
It didn't matter what technique was used in the dark. Even with the soprano, Qi Mu decisively abandoned the baritone part on the E-string and played the whole section on the D-string.
Once a continuous melody was played on two strings, no matter how fast the bow or how quick his fingers were, there would be a tiny gap.
But, there was another string between the tenor E and bass D-string. Playing the treble on the E-string in tandem with the D-string was a difficult feat for an amateur.
It was easy for a professional to grasp the treble accurately. But. . . what if the bass and treble must be played at high speed?
When he heard the note amongst the other sounds, Min Chen was astonished. He turned to the person hidden amongst the violinists.
In the dark, the man's thin lips parted. If anyone could read lips, they would have read--
『Caught you』
The opera lasted for nearly three hours, and the audience thoroughly enjoyed it. They were still immersed in the melody even after the prince and princess got together in the finale.
Qi Mu had never performed while being ignored before. He trailed after the other members of the orchestra and bowed to the audience.
Though they were ignored, Qi Mu was still satisfied he got to play 《The Magic Flute》 freely to his utmost content.
Thunderous applause broke out in the opera house, and the bright atmosphere became even warmer. Accompanied by the praise, the orchestra members exited the pit one after the other, officially ending the night's show.
Farrell pounced as soon as he walked backstage. He laughed, "Angel, you did great tonight! I couldn't hear it completely, but from how perfectly seamless it was. . . I guess you did quite a difficult trick, didn't you? Like abandoning the E-string?"
Although the maestro's hearing wasn't as superb as Min Chen's, Farrell was much more skilled at the violin than the younger conductor. Though Min Chen could hear Qi Mu's sound amongst the rest, he couldn't guess the technique like Farrell did.
And, even if Farrell couldn't hear it, he could guess from experience.
Qi Mu didn't try to hide it. "Yes, Mr. Farrell. I thought the second piece of the third act would lag a bit if played on the E-string. I worried it would be noticeable, so. . . I tried playing it on the D."
Farrell nodded and praised him, "You're really fast, Angel. I think, in a few years, even I wouldn't be able to keep up with your left hand. Being young is so nice! Angel, I think you're more suited to orchestra than opera, but it's a pity. . . There doesn't seem to be an orchestra in want of a new concertmaster right now."
Akkad said the same thing half a year earlier, so Qi Mu just smiled and didn't pay much mind to it. "Mr. Farrell, as you said, I'm still young. And I don't care much about these things right now."
Such a confident, calm young man made Farrell all the better about him. After a few more words of praise, the old man remembered, "Oh yeah, Angel. It's late now, so the celebration party will be held tomorrow instead. You were informed, right?"
Qi Mu smiled and nodded, "Yes, Jenny told me yesterday."
"Well, it's already this late so, come home with me," Farrell added, "Audrey must have prepared a good red wine and is waiting for us to go back and celebrate. I'll wait for you at the gate."
Qi Mu's expression shifted.
A flash of hesitation appeared on his face, and he said, "Mr. Farrell. . . I'll go back alone tonight. I have something to deal with."
Farrell thought for a moment then understood. Smiling teasingly, he asked, "What's wrong? You want to talk to Auston? Angel, I've known him for over a decade. Though he doesn't have a gentle temperament, he's really a man worth trusting your life with. If you like him, don't miss the chance."
"Yes, yes, yes. I know, Mr. Farrell."
"Angel, I'm saying this for your sake. Auston is a good man. He's. . ."
After a full five minutes of lecture, Qi Mu sent away the man who had discovered a love for matchmaking.
Watching the old man's back, Qi Mu shook his head helplessly, "Me. . . go find him? How is that possible. . ."
Yes, his plans for the night had something to do with him, but. . . Qi Mu wasn't going to talk to him like Farrell assumed.
Since he was late arriving today, Qi Mu found that aside from the front and rear doors, there was a small side door just big enough for one person to walk through.
This kind of secret entrance was perfect for sneaking off!
Qi Mu crept out the door with his violin case and looked down the deserted street. He took a deep breath and, in a pleasant mood, whispered, "Hmm. . . What fresh air. . ."
A low, magnetic voice rang out, "Well, it's better than Berlin."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
The young man's eyes widened in horror. In disbelief, he stared at the man who spoke.
A handsome man leaned against the brick wall, basking in the moonlight. His keen eyes stared fixed on Qi Mu, strong emotion brewing deep within them. His thin lips curled at the corners with ridicule and laughter.
If it wasn't Min Chen, who else could it be, ah?!!!
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Chapter 100
The moon shone brightly that summer night in Dresden. Like reflecting through water, it cast shadows over the small street behind the Semperoper Opera House. Dim, hazy lights shone from a few street lamps. Except for a handful of cars, no one passed by.
The moment he saw the other man, Qi Mu wanted to turn around and walk away.
He entertained this childish idea. He knew the man had probably waited for a long time, so Qi Mu sighed heavily and accepted his fate.
Qi Mu waved his hand and smiled, "Long time no see. What a coincidence, right?" His voice was calm, as if nothing happened.
Min Chen's eyebrows climbed high at seeing the youth so calm. The touch of a smile appeared in his gaze. He shook his head. "Yes, quite the coincidence. I just waited for three minutes."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Three minutes? That meant. . . If he had left four minutes earlier, he wouldn't have met this guy?
Guessing the younger man's thoughts, Min Chen's smile deepened. He added another blow, "I also wanted to visit Mr. Farrell and Mrs. Audrey this evening. Let's go together?"
Qi Mu: ". . ."
Cold moonlight shone unobstructed through the sky, and the cool night breeze dispelled the summer heat.
Qi Mu had thoroughly accepted the reality of his situation. He no longer acted dumb, nor did he avoid Min Chen. He held his violin case in front and leaned against the brick wall next to the other man.
Neither spoke. Everything Min Chen had to say was already said.
Min Chen had never been good at expressing himself. That simple "I like you" already exhausted the restrained, introverted man.
Qi Mu tilted his head upward, looking at the moon.
The bright moonlight overpowered the stars. It was a rare sight, because the city's neon lights usually dimmed the moonlight.
Neither spoke, but the atmosphere was beautifully tranquil. The breeze passed by, ruffling leaves on both sides of the road.
Just when Min Chen thought the young man who had avoided him for a month wasn't going to speak, his pleasant voice rang out--
"Your record. . . I heard it." His tone was helpless. "I listened to the very last piece. It was the most perfect recording of Min Chen or Auston Bertram I've ever heard."
Pondering for a while, Min Chen finally nodded. "En."
The white moonlight shone on the young man's face. His smile softened, and he said, "Actually. . . I'm not a person who tends to run away. I just. . . don't know what to say."
Min Chen looked at the younger man then asked, "What is it?"
Instead of directly answering him, Qi Mu began to recall. "When I first heard the name 'Min Chen,' it was over a decade ago, close to twenty years, probably. I was surprised, thinking a Chinese won Xiao Sai with full marks?"
Qi Mu shook his head helplessly. "Since then, I began to pay attention to him. The first piece I listened to was Bach's 《St Matthew Passion》, then his Chopin, Beethoven, Schumann, Schubert and finally. . . Liszt."
After a pause, Qi Mu looked up at Min Chen. With a teasing nod, he asked, "Oh yes. I discovered long ago. . . You seldom play Mendelssohn. Why?"
In such a quiet and deserted street, they spoke softly, and the atmosphere was harmonious.
Min Chen stared at the young man, feeling as if the light of the moon was drawn into his pale eyes. He smiled and asked in return, "I graduated from Leipzig Conservatory, you know that, right?"
Qi Mu nodded. "Yes."
"Do you know who founded the conservatory?"
Qi Mu immediately answered, "Mendelssohn." Smiling, he added, "To be precise, this was Germany's first conservatory of music."
Black trench coat blending into the night's shadows, Min Chen nodded. "When I first came to Leipzig, I was invited to perform at the school festival. The festival was the school's anniversary, and all the performances were related to the conservatory's celebrities or pieces by the founder; Mr. Mendelssohn was the most popular. But there's a tradition. . ."
He paused for a moment then continued, "Mendelssohn's style is classical romantic. Once you've decided to play something by him, you need to find someone else to perform with you. At the time, the concertmaster of the Spanish National Orchestra was head of the violin department. That person was, um. . ." Musing on his choice of words, Min Chen finally found suitable ones: "That person liked my music very much. . . and was a girl."
Unable to keep from laughing out loud, Qi Mu finally understood what happened.
Min Chen didn't seem to have heard the youth's laughter and continued with a blank expression, "I didn't want to play with her, and many of the notable pianists and violinists at the time were like her. . .They were bad news. But I couldn't exactly tell the truth either, so I could only say: I haven't practiced Mendelssohn much and I didn't think I could play it to its utmost potential."
The picture immediately played out in his mind, and Qi Mu smiled helplessly, "You could play Liszt's well at the time, giving such a reason. . . did they believe it?"
"Yes." Min Chen solemnly said, "Because I'm the one who said it."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
"Having skills doesn't equate being able to play well. I said I couldn't perform Mendelssohn's romance, and it was the truth. I am an honest and sincere man."
Such a funny sentence made Qi Mu laugh, and he turned to the person beside him, but when he did so, he froze.
The man's profound face was serious, and his deep dark eyes stared right at him as he said in a solemn tone, "I couldn't play a romantic piece with her because. . ."
"Qi Mu, I didn't like her."
The topic suddenly came full circle, and Qi Mu's eyes widened a little. After a while, he sighed. "Min Chen. . . we are both very busy. I can't develop my career in Berlin, and you cannot give up Berlin. Europe is small, but in some cases, it can be quite vast too. As people separated all day and night, do you think. . . it's possible for us?"
"Do you like me?"
The words stunned Qi Mu, and before he could respond, a shadow fell over him.
The taller man completely blocked the moonlight. Hands on either side of Qi Mu, he looked down at him. This posture was quite aggressive and, more importantly, it made Qi Mu feel like he had no escape.
It was at this moment Qi Mu found out--
He was half a head shorter than his opponent.
This was the first time Qi Mu viewed the man from such a close distance. From the moment he first heard the name "Min Chen," to the moment they met officially last year, this was the first time they were close enough they could feel each other's breath.
Cheeks flushed, Qi Mu coughed a little and carefully looked away, "Now isn't the time to think about this. . . Min Chen, I can't go to Berlin, and you can't leave it for another decade. We won't have time for each other, we. . ."
"Do you like me?"
Min Chen repeated the question, halting Qi Mu in his words. After some thought, Qi Mu understood the man's meaning and could only laugh weakly in his mind. He lifted his head to look into Min Chen's attentive eyes and said:
"I like you."
Of course, the answer was 'yes'.
Otherwise, he wouldn't blush at his confession. Nor would he avoid the man for half a month. Qi Mu wasn't a hesitant person. If he didn't like it, he would say so frankly. It's precisely because he likes him. . .
That he didn't dare to answer.
Speaking those three short little words immediately made Qi Mi feel lighter, but he didn't notice the man, who was usually calm, had held himself stiffly up until then and let out a relieved sigh. Min Chen looked down at the delicate face of the younger man and saw the helplessness and hesitation in his expression.
Min Chen said confidently, "As long as you like me. . . there will be no problems."
Shocked, Qi Mu automatically said, "But I can't develop in Berlin, and Min Chen, I don't want to be a solo violinist. I want to be in an orchestra, I want to. . ."
"I can leave."
Qi Mu stopped abruptly, eyes wide in surprise, "How can you? You've been conductor for ten years, and you're only 31 this year. Bai Ai has the principle of 'no change until death' so you can easily stay for another three or four decades!"
"It doesn't matter," Min Chen calmly replied.
Qi Mu, on the other hand, was anxious, "But that's Bai Ai!"
Warmth flooded Min Chen's heart at the young man's anxiety for him. His lips curled upward, and he softly asked, "What do you think. . . of Karl Thomas?"
Qi Mu answered, "Mr. Karl? He's very good. Though he's not in an orchestra, he's excellent. He receives invitations from world-famous orchestras to conduct every year and performs globally. Why do you suddenly. . ." Qi Mu had an epiphany. "You want to be like him?"
Right now, the world's top four conductors were Min Chen of Bai Ai, Albert Dorenza of Wei Ai, Farrell Lewis of the Dresden Symphony, and Karl Thomas who wasn't affiliated with any orchestra.
Min Chen's eyebrows raised gracefully. "Can't I? Karl's doing well so far."
Though he knew Karl had a great reputation was respected and worshiped by the masses, he didn't know why but the thought of this man leaving Bai Ai for him filled Qi Mu's heart with pain and guilt.
Now that this man was willing to do this. . .
What else was he worrying about?
The youth's expression suddenly became a calm smile. He looked up at the man in front of him and said, imposingly, "You are not allowed to leave Bai Ai." After a slight pause, he amended, "You are not allowed to leave Bai Ai for me."
Confronted with such a fierce tone, Min Chen was flabbergasted. ". . . What?"
"I don't want my lover to give up his career he's been working on for ten years because of my circumstances."
Min Chen frowned. "I'm not giving it up. I'll be as free as Karl. . ."
This time, it was his turn to stop abruptly as he realized what he'd just heard. Eyes wide, he asked, a tremble in his voice, "You. . . what did you just say?"
Qi Mu raised an eyebrow at his rare uncertain expression and, with eyes full of laughter, he repeated, "I said, I don't want my lover to abandon his career for me. . ."
Suddenly, he was wrapped in the man's arms. Min Chen's powerful arms wound tightly around his waist, and his vigorous heart rate seemed contagious, making his own beat wildly too.
The man whispered gently in his ear, "Qi Mu. . . I like you."
Knowing how childish this man was, Qi Mu patted his back and nodded then whispered, "Well. . . I like you too."
But the man didn't stop and, instead, repeated, "I like you."
Qi Mu was quite dumbfounded. "Yes, yes, yes, I know you like me."
"I like you."
". . ."
"I like you."
". . ."
"I like you."
". . . Stop playing around!"
"Come to Berlin with me."
". . ."
After a pause, Qi Mu pushed the overbearing man away and said, "I just said I cannot develop in Berlin."
Min Chen's face serious as he said earnestly, "One mont, just one month. . . wait until I'm done with Bai Ai's schedule this month, then I will accompany you to Paris or wherever you want."
Qi Mu: ". . ."
He sighed gently. "Teacher will be back next week. I have to go back to Paris, Min Chen."
"Ignore him."
Qi Mu: ". . .Can you not be so childish?"
"I can teach you the violin." Min Chen's black eyes were solemn and sincere. He said firmly, "I will teach you in Berlin. I have a lot of time, and I'm more patient than Reed."
Qi Mu: ". . . When you can play Paganini's 《La Campanella》 to my satisfaction, I will think about it." After a moment, he hastened to add, "On the violin!"
The hope that was kindled in the man's eyes vanished in an instant. ". . ."
Under the moonlight, Qi Mu stared at the man's unhappy face with slight amusement and helplessness. The man's facial features appeared all the more handsome under the moon. He appeared softer, somehow, and his pair of slightly drooping eyes were just as he remembered them, unfathomable.
The young man unconsciously reached out and touched the other man's face. The movement froze them both. Qi Mu instantly wanted to retract his hand, but it was suddenly grasped by the older man.
Qi Mu raised his head in surprise and, in turn, met Min Chen's dark gaze. As if knowing what came next, Qi Mu tried to break free but found he couldn't escape the man's hold.
In the end, QI Mu listened to his rapidly rising heartbeat and gave up the struggle, closing his eyes.
An a dark, quiet street, a tall gentleman pulled a younger man's wrist and leaned forward. The latter didn't resist at all, almost as if waiting for it.
People in love needed only to look into each other's eyes in moments like these, and their reason would be overtaken by love.
Qi Mu could almost hear the man's heartbeat, could even feel the breath from Min Chen's nose. His throat felt a bit dry, and he was a little nervous. Then--
"Bang--"
"You pervert! Who are you! How dare you touch our Little Seven!!!"
The angry roar broke off Qi Mu's thoughts. He immediately opened his eyes and found Min Chen staring right back with a blank expression, numerous lily petals littered atop his head.
"No. . . we need to speak in German here. . . anyway, pervert! Who let you touch my Little Seven, let go of your dirty hands!" The person changed to English, "I'm going to call the police, don't you run, you pervert!"
The person smashed the bouquet of lilies over Min Chen, but when they saw Min Chen refused to loosen his grip on Qi Mu, they grew even angier.
"Even Europe has this kind of pervert! You. . . Ah?! Mr. Min?!!!"
Qi Mu, who had long been dumbfounded into speechlessness: ". . ."
Min Chen, who was covered in lilies and wearing a blank face: ". . ."