Chapter 42
On such a bleak night, even B City, which was usually filled with peopleduring the day, was sparse. There were only a few cars driving by on thestreets, and they quickly disappearedinto the freezing night.
The security in this area was relatively good.There was a special system at theentrance, and outsiders were not allowed to enter freely. It was a high-endapartment, but there were only three buildings. Qi Mu's apartment was on the26th floor of the last one.
This building had twenty-seven floors. Qi Muonly recently learned that the entire 27th floor was owned by Min Chen, alongwith the one he lived in on the 26th, making his apartment a double-floorpenthouse. It could be said that apart from this apartment, purchased beforeMin Chen had, the entire floor was also Min Chen's.
Right now, those two floors were dark. Only QiMu's apartment was shining with warm, yellow light. After cleaning the table,Min Chen didn't immediately leave. Instead, he stared at an oil painting thatQi Mu had on the wall, lost in thought.
Qi Mu finished tidying up and looked over. He saw Min Chen staring at the painting and walkedto stand beside him, "It was bought from a gallery in B City. The painter'sstyle is good. Similar to Ruben, it's vivid and looks alive."
When he spoke, Qi Mu pointed at the artisticrepresentation of an autumn harvest on a wheat field that was beside thepainting. His eyes bowed into crescents, "This autumn harvest is more likeRuben's early works. Though not as radical, it has its own charm. I rememberone by him is hanging in the first rehearsal hall of the Geneva Conservatory."
Min Chen had initiallybeen just studying the painting, but when he heard Qi Mu's words, hisdark eyes narrowed. Just as Qi Mu thought of introducing the other painting to him, Min Chen asked casually, "Wasthere such a painting there? When I went to last year's graduation concert, Ididn't notice it."
Being so suddenly asked about it, Qi Muautomatically replied, "Yes. Though, has it been removed recently? It'spossible. After all, Professor Deville, that painting. . ." Suddenly, Qi Mu'svoice silenced, and his throat went tautas he realized there was something wrong with his words.
After a long time, Qi Mu smiled, "I only heardabout it. Professor Deville Carter at the Geneva Conservatory has a collectionof paintings. I was interested in one of them when I was a child, and my mother told me she saw the paintingthere the last time she went."
In the original's memory, his mother did go toConservatory for a concert when she was young. As to whether she saw thatpainting or not. . . Qi Mu really had no idea.
Qi Mu's immediate clarification for the slip of tongue would have possibly made theother believe it if they were Du Sheng orZheng Wei Qiao.
Even if it was Tan Zheng Hui, there might besome doubt, but he wouldn't dwell on it.
But, the person standing beside him right now. .. was Min Chen.
Qi Mu has spent quite some thought in decoratinghis apartment. There was a spotlight to highlight and brighten these paintings.At the moment, the diffused white light reflected onto the man's handsomeprofile, solidifying his sharp features.
Min Chen felt something incredulous flashthrough his mind, but just as he was about to capture his thought, itdisappeared entirely without a trace. He squinted and gently hummed, "If youwant to know, i can get Daniel to go findout. Geneva and Berlin. . . it's not that far."
Seeing that the other man didn't seem to besuspicious, Qi Mu felt a bit relieved. He shook his head and said, "Let's notbother him. It's no big deal anyway." After a pause, he laughed and changed thetopic, "Oh right, I really am sorry about not telling you today would beinformal beforehand. I. . . probably letyou down."
Qi Mu could imagine. For the Bertram family, itwas impossible to have a simple 8-in-1 soup for a Christmas Eve dinner.
Min Chen's profound gaze lingered on him for abit. Then he shook his head and replied, "Your cooking is excellent. I didn'tknow you could cook Chinese like that."
Qi Mu laughed, "It was all learned from myparents. They were keen on Chinese cuisine. I'm glad you liked it. I reallyappreciate. . . what you did for me inHong Kong. When I went to the score, did you say something to Mr. Boswell? Hewas very kind to me during the rehearsals."
As a good man who never let his good deeds stickto his name, Min Chen shook his head, "I didn't do anything special. Didn't yousay that Boswell's temper was particularly good?"
However, Boswell himself had told him. This manhad directly recommended him to Boswell. But. . . he still refused to admit it. Perhaps this was a form of. . . modesty?
After thinking for a time, he no longer tried tochase the matter. "All in all, I appreciate you taking care of me in HongKong."
"I'm only repaying you."
Qi Mu: "?"
Min Chen's expression was calm, as was his tone:"For your help with the bug."
". . ."
This was a single apartment of roughly forty tofifty square meters. Even if the decorations were excellent, after ten minutesof appreciation, there was nothing left to look at. Now, there was still sometime before midnight. Qi Mu knew it was important for many western familieswith strong traditions to keep the family together on Christmas Eve.
Although he personally had no interest in thevigil, when he considered that Min Chen had to return that large, empty house, waiting for the clock tostrike twelve by himself. . . he shookhis head and sighed.
Since the other man had helped him so much, evencalling it a repayment. . . so why not?
"Before you knocked on my door that day, I hadno idea you lived next door." Qi Mu poured a cup of warm water from a thermosand handed it to Min Chen, continuing to say, "I didn't expect to not know whowas living next door for so long, it's a bit funny."
Min Chen took the cup and said, "I don'tremember hearing the violin through the wall."
Qi Mu laughed, "I practice in the music roomevery day. So I wouldn't disturb the neighbors, I renovated for betterinsulation." After a pause, he said strangely, "But I only practice for a fewhours a day, and I don't remember. . . is there a piano next door?"
He remembered, when he went into the apartmentnext door, he could see one. It was in the living room, a beautiful, blackSteinway. It stood proudly in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It waselegant.
This man who didn't practice even an hour on thepiano everyday listened to this, and his face went black. He coughed softly,"Probably while you were practicing the violin. . . I also dabbled on thepiano."
Qi Mu nodded understandingly.
Min Chen's eyes were still dark, and he veryquickly changed the topic, "I haven't seen your music room."
Qi Mu subsequently smiled, "It's not thatinteresting of a place, just an ordinary music room." Despite saying so, heenthusiastically led the guest to hismusic room. He opened the door and turned on the light, revealing the simple musicroom. "I did not ask for a music room, sothe decorations are simpler."
Min Chen's narrow gaze circled the entire roomthen settled on the box on the table. "You like Paganini's 《lla》?"
Qi Mu subconsciously replied, "Well, I'vepracticed Paganini's songs for a while."
"I like this piece very much, will you. . .allow me to listen?"
Qi Mu was stunned, and he turned to look at the man. He saw that Min Chen was alsostaring at him, his eyes deep andfocused. The meaning of that request, Qi Mu was shocked.
It was a glorious thing for any violinist tohave Min Chen ask for a performance. Compared to other music masters, Min Chenwas a very indifferent person. He had given achance to only a few, but none. . . laterbecame well known.
Bai Ai's current concertmaster, Christi, was theonly violinist Min Chen had taken the initiative to hear his violin.
And now a second had appeared.
Without a trace of fear, Qi Mu curled his lipsinto a smile and laughed. This expression of confidence was dazzling on theyouth's handsome face.
He nodded seriously,and his voice was firm, "Alright."
He removed his violin from its case, wiped thebow with rosin, and directly lifted it to his shoulder.
The notes were smooth, like water current, and the brisk tone flew from thestrings of his violin. The word 《lla》 translated into Chinese meant 《Bell》. However it had a unique name——《TheEmperor's Bell》.
The song was mostly a brisk staccato, but in aPaganini's song, it was quite tricky andmost violinists couldn't control it. So when Min Chen proposed this song, itwas also a challenge for Qi Mu.
But, this song was one of Qi Mu's formerincarnation's most perfected piece, andhe was especially fond of it.
Qi Mu had played 《Bell》 at his graduationconcert as his last performance at Geneva. Even in laters interviewing withseveral of the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, he still played 《Bell》.
This piece was incredibly significant to Qi Mu. In his previous life, he had a special album that recorded it five times.
In that quiet music room, the cheerful musiccouldn't wait to jump free from his bow. Every note danced in the air, breakingthe silence of the room like it wanted toeverything into the depths of a happy, cheerful ocean.
As soon as the first note emerged, Qi Mu wasimmersed in the sound. Each string, each pull of his bow, it was engraved intothe depths of his memory. Pulling out this familiar melody, it was like he hadreturned to that early morning that he had gone to the Vienna SymphonyOrchestra with his violin case.
If the interview wasn't a success, he could onlyleave Vienna.
The slender fingers of the youth's white handflowed back and forth over the four thing strings. The speed was so fast,sometimes so dazzling, that one could only use their ears to listen to thebeautiful music.
Perhaps he was too immersed, so deep he couldnot extricate himself from it, so Qi Mu didn't know that after playing for justa minute, the man listening to him suddenly stiffened and stared at him incredulously.
His Phoenix eyes were wide, and Min Chen'sfingers trembled.
Daniel had been with this man for over a decade,but if he could see this now, he would have said, "Oh my god, Min. Is it theend of the world? Why are you so surprised?!"
The song went on for nine minutes, and MinChen's excellent hearing suspended him in horror, capturing every noteperfectly.
Each slide of the fingers against the strings,each pass of the bow, each of these notes were so hauntingly familiar. Whenthey came together, they formed theunique song that belonged to just Qi Mu——《LaCampanella》.
This song that was unique to Lu Zi Wen. . . 《La Campanella》.
Translator(s): Bet, Kuro
Editor(s): Bet
Bet:
Sorry for the minor delay everyone. Kuro’s internet went down, and I didn’t wake up early enough to finish the chapter by the original deadline. At least it’s only half an hour late!
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