Credit for image goes to fuck-yeah-weilan from Tumblr. https://fuck-yeah-weilan.tumblr.com/post/177691468026/my-soul-left-my-body-when-i-made-this-set-of-gif
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Watching Zhao Yunlan play was transcendent. Breathless minutes were time stopped and a feeling of utter peace, of knowing that you were witnessing true beauty and masterful skill, right in front you. Shen Wei had lost count of the number of times he had suddenly stopped what he was doing to watch or when he was only listening, taking the emotions Zhao was expressing into his cooking, into his heart.
Today was different.
Zhao Yunlan had invited him to a remote recording session, where all of the musicians gathered to record parts of the music, chosen by the composer for a period drama and three video games. Zhao Yunlan was one of the composers and today was mostly about his part, recording it to send to the producer for final overview, as he was somewhere else in the country and Zhao was booked for the next two weeks in live performances.
Having been a long-term fan, he knew that Zhao Yunlan often recorded in this building, with a variety of artists, for remote recordings to send to other studios or as part of live rehearsals. So, he easily recognized the brown leather sofa, the spiral staircase and small stage area in the long room.
He recognized Wang Zheng, the lead singer in Rising Tide, the now famous rock band and her other half, Sang Zan who was a base guitarist and part time flutist for Zhao. Zhao Yunlan called them the 'love doves' and smiled warmly at Wang, always introducing her as his favorite sister. Then there was Zhu Hong the drummer and second vocalist standing beside Guo Changcheng, who had he seen only once in a video...singing? No. Wasn't he also a flutist? Or saxophonist? He couldn't remember, but moved forward to ask where Zhao Yunlan was.
Da Qing seeing him enter, hurried over to greet him with a happy smile. "Chef Shen!"
Stopping only to officially introduce him as Zhao's friend, Da Qing all but ignored the others and led Shen down a corridor to a smaller room, labelled Labs. Behind the industrial doors, were haphazard seats, arranged facing a small central area with a piano, while at the back, there was a table displaying the open cases for two violins and two cellos.
He wondered why, but any other thought vanished when he saw Zhao Yunlan, standing in the center with his violin and the unsteady music stand, that was a feature in many of his videos. He was already playing, wearing headphones and dressed in a deep blue sleeveless t-shirt and black jeans, with those foxfire eyes sharp behind his black glasses. Shen had helplessly noticed the toned arms on display, distracted only when Da Qing stopped their progression, proudly proclaiming that this was their main recording area. "Sit down, Chef Shen. I'll get you something drink."
Absently, he thanked him hoping he wasn't being rude, but his eyes were drawn back to Zhao Yunlan, who looked up in that moment, fingers effortlessly moving on the fingerboard, the bow gracefully sliding over the strings as he smiled. A gorgeous, cheerful smile that weakened knees and stole thought.
"Ah, you're here! Thank you for coming Shen Wei! Don't worry about the others, they'll come and go in a bit. Enjoy the show." He said those eyes warm and happy, settling whatever nerves Shen Wei had.
"Won't I be in the way?" He asked gesturing around them.
Zhao Yunlan stopped playing and rearranged how his violin fit against his shoulder, "Not at all. I'm about to record, so just stay quiet and enjoy."
He smiled again, looking so pleased to see him and that realization spread warmth, Shen had assumed he would never feel again. Shen Wei leaned against the back of the chair, out of the way and just listened, floating on the music and the journey of emotion, only Zhao Yunlan could rouse. Those river stone eyes refocused on the score and they flew like a bird on the wind. A song of hope and yearning, somehow both spirited and sombre.
Over the next three hours, Zhao Yunlan moved from standing to sitting, switching between instruments and Shen's heart skipped an excited beat when he realized that Zhao was playing all of his instruments today.
He had moved by the window and recorded, just with a single small microphone, a beautiful piece on violin, which brought to mind, love and passion in its sweetest forms. Apparently, to be added to a larger score digitally by the producer, but the focus was the romantic mood set by the violin. Then he switched to the erhu, sitting now with a quick happy grin at Shen, resting it on his knee delicately as Da Qing moved to the piano behind him, "This part is for the after battle scene." He told Shen smoothly, "It starts with piano and moves into a pairing with the erhu."
They checked the electronics and then began, beautifully in sync with each, after so many years of playing. It was tragic and hopeful, spinning sound into a resigned grief that echoed his own loss. Touching on that, which was the most painful, causing tears to rise. They didn't fall, not with those beautiful eyes fixed on his, soothing away the hurt and letting him enjoy the more thoughtful tone. The idea that Zhao knew that this might bring him pain and had acted to comfort him, brought tears to his eyes for a very different reason.
When it finished, Da Qing sat beside him for the second violin piece, this time the storm raging, like a boat being tossed on the terrifying waves, driving ever higher. Zhao's eyes were closed and the bow surged over the strings, as he swayed slightly. The exact opposite in tempo to the prior piece, there was anger and fear in the music now, so powerful that Shen felt shaken and enraptured. Wondering where it would end, as the song soared and fell, giving him ideas that he could use later in the kitchen.
Well, not with the fear. He would leave that to Chu Shuzhi.
They took a brief break, as Zhao set up his cello and carefully packed away his beloved violin. Shen took a moment to recover himself, feeling blessed and closer to his Savior than ever before. Da Qing took that moment when he was studiously not admiring those long legs or the way the material of the t-shirt stretched over Zhao's chest to state very calmly, "No one plays like Chief Zhao."
He heard the pride and easy affection, recognizing that this was Zhao's brother, so waited for the inevitable questions, concerning their relationship. Ye Zun would have leaned back, daring Da Qing to offend him, looking for all the world like a king. Shen Wei just folded his hands and waited for the barrage to begin.
"I heard you are a fan of our video channels. You often comment on our work. Any favorites?" Da Qing asked eventually.
That ended all coherent thought for a few seconds.
He thought of how Zhao Yunlan had startled a genuine laugh from his throat, two months after the park with his video called the Three Challenge. Sang Zan, Da Qing and Zhao were forced to a play a piece for drum, violin and flute, they had never even heard of, crowded around the famous music stand. Things had been going relatively okay until Lin Jing had shouted "Tempo!" and Zhao Yunlan had thought he was playing too slowly, confusing Sang Zan.
He thought of how many times he had daydreamed of Zhao Yunlan, as he moved around his home kitchen, experimenting with ingredients as the impossible man played his incredible French romance series. Or stared in stunned silence as Zhao played an intricate, emotional score lounging on that brown leather sofa, with a lollipop in his mouth, shameless and beautiful.
Worse yet, he thought of the birthday he had endured without Ye Zun and how Zhao Yunlan always seemed to save him from himself. His thoughts dark and soul bleak, he had been curled up on the bed, staring at nothing, when the tablet had chimed beside him. He had forgotten that it was even there, instead of charging on the desk but his hand had reacted anyway and Zhao's striking face had appeared on the screen with a message about new videos. Part of him had craved a way out of the pain, so he had found the new ones and pressed play, listening intently as Zhao had talked about discovering hip-hop violin and Italian cello forming the backbone of opera.
He thought too of going to sleep watching Zhao Yunlan explain the differences in electric violin, knowing the nightmares won't come if he heard his voice. Of how Zhao Yunlan gave him the strength to walk back into Dixing without Ye Zun for the first time.
Then he thought of the sheer number of times he had re-watched Rising Tide's cover of The Show Must Go On by Queen, played in a dark room with Zhao Yunlan illuminated by a single light. He had looked so beautiful in that video. That long neck exposed as his head tilted back and how he had spun the cello away for a few seconds, revealing his spread thighs. That had been one of the main visuals in the shower and the bed, bringing himself off as Zhao's album version played on the stereo. It had been first time he had thought of more than just surviving the next few hours, in possibly years of celibacy and of admitting how desperately gone for the man he was.
"The Rains of Castamere." Shen Wei offered. "His cello, erhu version. And..."
"Cultural Mondays." He said eventually. It was true. Zhao Yunlan had been challenged by Da Qing to play something from another country every week. So far he had played Arabic, Celtic, Spanish and an interesting Russian folk-song for violin, none of them easy or even commonly known. While, for cello he had played American jazz, Argentinean tango and a Baroque piece that Shen Wei was still trying to decide if he liked. The big surprise had been the introduction to the Cretan Lyre and his skills with the erhu.
Da Qing laughed. "Told him that would be popular. The next one is for the second video game."
Zhao Yunlan interrupted thankfully by moving the stand with his electric cello, ready to begin his fifth piece. This was flowing triumph and rage, bordering on what Shen consider 'too metal' for his tastes, but then it changed in a moment to something spiritual and dreamy, spiraling back into quiet but strangely exultant tones.
His sixth was also the electric cello, one long note with Zhao's arm rising gracefully. There was a pause of half a second, before the notes became drawn-out beauty, so magnificently sonorous and brought to mind something ancient. It became louder, so intense it sounded almost vengeful, like a low battle cry. At the end it was a mournful, angry wail that dropped back into that ancient song. Zhao Yunlan just grinned at Shen Wei's expression and bowed cheekily.
The cello score was the traditional version and Shen smiled as Da Qing dragged seat beside Zhao, holding his acoustic guitar. This was sultry and echoed humid nights beneath the stars, especially with the way, Zhao's eyes lingered on Shen Wei. The way his dark eyes danced and Shen Wei felt that urge to go to him, a feeling that had been present since the very first time he had laid stunned eyes on his Savior. This power was not something that could be felt watching a recording. No. This was the gravity of Zhao Yunlan and like any star it affected everyone around him.
The spell broke cleanly, but Shen Wei carried on watching Zhao, transfixed, until he rose to pack away this cello as well. Da Qing left the room, saying that he would tell the others that Zhao was nearly done. "Have you enjoyed the show Shen Wei?"
He felt as though he had just experienced one of those once in a lifetime miracles, but that was far too strange to say, to a hero that thinks you are a fan and a reliable sponsor. "It was beautiful. Thank you for letting me experience this with you."
Zhao Yunlan laughed softly but not unkindly, bringing humor to Shen Wei's heart as well. "Always my pleasure. Music is something to be enjoyed...shared and explored. Much like cooking I suppose?"
Shen Wei thought of a year's dishes inspired by one man. "Yes."
Then he grinned that maniacal grin that alerted Shen Wei. "The next and final piece is performed on Cretan Lyre or Lyra as some call it. I warn you, it always sounds mournful. Sometimes a little thoughtful. Never play it happy!"
Shen Wei laughed and settled back, as Zhao Yunlan released the odd little instrument from its special case. "How did you come across it?" he asked quietly, hoping he was not being too forward.
Zhao Yunlan smiled sweetly and shook his head as he resumed his seat and fiddled with the microphone. "My second violin teacher was a ninety-year old powerhouse. I've mentioned her before."
"Play with emotion Zhao Yunlan. You have a soul, you're not a rock." Shen Wei quoted.
Zhao laughed, "That was her. She told me once that her violin tutor was a Frenchman, who came to China in the early thirties. When he was killed by the Japanese, he got her out and gave her this," He said sadly holding up the lyre. "He told her to play with soul and never give up. She had always wanted to contact his family, but knew nothing about them, except that his wife and children died during World War Two. What he was doing with a folksy Greek instrument, made in 1882 who knows? He left Europe and everything he knew to come here."
He smiled again, grief in his eyes as he caressed the instrument, "Somehow, despite poverty and some really dark times, she kept hold of it. When she died, she gave it to me. Said that it had to be kept and played. I play it every day. Met some Greek musicians online and learnt some new songs to play to her memory."
"I'm sure she's proud." He said softly, leaning forward.
"Probably telling me to play with more soul." He said ruefully, "So, let me wow with this tune that I wrote years ago and is now being used for a scene in a movie. It has a lower sound than the erhu and is an excellent choice when you want resonance. Most people have no idea what the sound is when they hear it."
It was mournful but mysterious and somehow alluring. Shen Wei found himself swaying to the unique rhythm of lyre and lost to that treasured gaze.
It was very much night time when they left the building. Zhao Yunlan owned a Humvee and had offered generously to give Shen Wei a ride home. He should decline but another twenty minutes with Zhao Yunlan was too much a temptation and walking tonight was not as appealing as it usually was.
He was waiting by the car, guarding the two cello cases, the erhu, the lyre, heavy electronic equipment and the violin cases as Zhao had forgotten his car keys. He was paranoid that something was going to fall, so kept a hand free in case one of the cello cases in particular toppled.
He didn't hear them but certainly felt the blow to the back of his head.