chapter 33
Chapter 33
After the chat ended, Ning Qiuyan was extremely frustrated.
He wanted to keep chatting with Guan Heng, and he knew Guan Heng would probably reply, but apart from asking questions, he really didn’t know what else he could talk about with Guan Heng. When he came back to his senses, he had already been standing in place for four or five minutes, looking a bit silly, and some people nearby were curiously watching him.
The chat interface was completely quiet; Guan Heng had probably already put down his phone.
He had no choice but to put his phone back in his pocket and, with his head down, stride toward home.
Because he’d gotten caught in the rain, as soon as Ning Qiuyan got home, he washed his hair and took a shower. He emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and clean, but his thoughts involuntarily returned to the materials he had found at the library earlier that day.
Coincidentally, he had just run into Ran Ran at the library and talked about the art entrance exam, and now, as soon as he sat down in front of his computer, he discovered a new email.
It was from Suojing Conservatory of Music.
Ning Qiuyan thought he was seeing things, but after checking repeatedly, he confirmed that the sender field showed the prefix “Suojing Conservatory of Music.”
He clicked it open, and to his surprise, it was an interview notification.
“Dear Ning Qiuyan, hello. Congratulations, you have passed our preliminary examination. Please bring your student registration certificate and ID to take the written test at 9:00 a.m. on April 15 (next Tuesday). If you pass the written test, the interview (which requires a new work) will be held at 4:00 p.m. The locations are Classroom 13 and Classroom 20 in Building XX, respectively. Please prepare well. We look forward to meeting you. Attachment: Comments on Ning Qiuyan’s preliminary work.”
Ning Qiuyan’s eyes widened slightly, his heart trembling uncontrollably with excitement and joy.
Suojing Conservatory of Music is the top music academy in China, his first choice back when he dreamed of applying, and being able to study there was his dream.
But he had never submitted any works to Suojing Conservatory of Music, nor had he planned to take this year’s art entrance exam. Why would he receive an interview notice?
Full of doubt, Ning Qiuyan clicked on the attachment.
The comments were detailed and objective, evaluating a video.
After opening the video, Ning Qiuyan understood immediately-he was dazed and lost in thought.
The video was shot in Guan Heng’s room.
That day he got lost on Du Island, lit the Lighthouse, and it was Guan Heng who brought him back. On that same day, he met Lu Qianque for the first time. Lu Qianque said a child at home was having a birthday, and, having heard Ning Qiuyan could play guitar, asked him to play and record an anime theme song as a birthday gift for the child.
But the video was not the anime theme song.
It was the piece Guan Heng requested later-the one he had composed during his mother’s serious illness.
At that time, Ning Qiuyan wasn’t prepared, but Guan Heng gave him a command.
“Play it for me.”
Ning Qiuyan simply could not refuse.
But he hadn’t known that part had also been recorded.
In the video, he looked a little nervous, his fingering rather stiff, and by the second section his eyes suddenly reddened, making him seem a bit clumsy.
And yet, even with such a performance, Guan Heng still told him, “I really like it.”
And helped him submit it to his dream school.
Ning Qiuyan had every reason to suspect that, on that day, it wasn’t that Lu Qianque suddenly needed him to film a video as a birthday gift for a child, but that Guan Heng had arranged it in advance-otherwise, why would the camera and tripod have been prepared so coincidentally?
Ning Qiuyan hadn’t wanted to bother Guan Heng again, but in the end, he couldn’t resist.
He sent Guan Heng a message.
Ning Qiuyan: [Mr. Guan, about the Suojing Conservatory of Music. Why?]
Guan Heng replied after a while: [Call me.]
What did that mean?
Was Guan Heng saying he was on the phone and couldn’t reply now, or asking him to call?
Just as Ning Qiuyan was hesitating, a call from Guan Heng came in. He was startled and answered, flattered: “Hello? Mr. Guan?”
Guan Heng’s voice was very clear; he was probably alone in his room.
He asked directly, “Got the notice? What was the result of the preliminary round?”
Ning Qiuyan replied dazedly, “I passed. I got the written test and interview notice. I’m going next month.”
“Good,” Guan Heng said calmly, as if not surprised by the result. He then asked, “Do you want to go?”
“I want to go,” Ning Qiuyan admitted honestly. “But… how did you know I wanted to attend this school, and even helped me submit the video?”
Guan Heng simply replied, “I told you, I will take care of all your needs.”
His tone was calm, as usual, just stating a fact.
Yet Ning Qiuyan’s ears suddenly grew hot. He was at a loss for words, not knowing what to say.
Guan Heng didn’t let the call drag on: “Passing the preliminary exam is just the beginning. The next two exams are the most important. Will you prepare diligently?”
Ning Qiuyan replied reflexively, “I will!”
He said it loudly.
“Good.” Guan Heng seemed to chuckle softly, sounding satisfied. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
The call ended.
A long time later, Ning Qiuyan realized he had forgotten to thank Guan Heng.
But he thought, Mr. Guan probably didn’t care about such things.
If he wanted to express his gratitude, the only way was to pass the exams well and not let Mr. Guan down.
*
The exams were next month. Ning Qiuyan had taken the cultural subjects last year and needed to pass the written test again. Besides that, he had to prepare a new piece for the interview, which made time suddenly very tight.
The cultural subjects only required revision, but choosing a new piece became Ning Qiuyan’s biggest challenge.
He searched through many of his own works, but none seemed satisfactory. In the end, he found the one he had written in Wutong Park before.
It was about Guan Heng.
A secret, bittersweet crush.
After practicing the piece, Ning Qiuyan recorded a video and sent it to Su Jianzhou, wanting to see his reaction. Su Jianzhou was thrilled to hear about his art exam and rushed to his house that afternoon to help him with new arrangements and edits.
“If I were a teacher at Suojing Conservatory of Music, I’d admit you on the spot,” Su Jianzhou said excitedly. “It’s amazing. I love this piece so much.”
Ning Qiuyan had been unsure, but hearing Su Jianzhou’s words made him feel a bit more confident.
Still, he couldn’t take his friend’s praise at face value-Su Jianzhou had always been half a die-hard fan of his.
After Su Jianzhou left, Ning Qiuyan, on a whim, played the piece again and recorded a video to send to Guan Heng.
Ning Qiuyan: [Do you think this piece has a good chance for the interview?]
He had a little ulterior motive.
No matter whether Guan Heng approved of the piece or whether it could be used for the interview, he wanted Guan Heng to hear it.
After sending it, he paced nervously around his home, unable to calm down. Not until nightfall did he receive Guan Heng’s reply.
The video didn’t show Ning Qiuyan’s face, only his fingers and the guitar.
Guan Heng replied that it was suitable.
But he also pointed out a few minor flaws.
Those suggestions were sharp and to the point-things neither Ning Qiuyan nor Su Jianzhou had noticed. When Ning Qiuyan tried again, it was as if a veil had been lifted; everything flowed much more smoothly. Originally, he had wanted to show off a bit in front of Guan Heng and earn some favor, but now he felt a bit embarrassed, like he was showing off in front of a master.
He remembered the instruments in the Du Island mansion and couldn’t help but wonder if Guan Heng, besides being a painter, had another identity.
Otherwise, how had he spent such a long life?
That day, Ning Qiuyan hadn’t asked Guan Heng any questions.
So he sent a message: [Have you ever been a musician?]
Guan Heng: [No. I have only been friends with some musicians.]
Ning Qiuyan: [For example?]
Guan Heng listed several legendary names. Ning Qiuyan was shocked to realize that those masters belonged to different eras, long gone and now legends of history-yet Guan Heng had interacted with all of them.
Ning Qiuyan felt a vague sense of mystery; the more he learned, the more enigmatic Guan Heng seemed.
Compared to those musicians, Ning Qiuyan’s skills were only beginner level.
He timidly sent Guan Heng: [Do you think my music sounds good?]
Guan Heng: [It’s rather niche.]
Ning Qiuyan: “…”
He collapsed onto the sofa, his mood sinking to rock bottom.
Guan Heng sent a message: [You’re studying music-do you want to be a singer or a celebrity?]
Ning Qiuyan: [Neither. I just want to write music, purely. Do you know Hans Zimmer? He’s my idol. He has so many classic film scores. I want to learn from him.]
Guan Heng: [Then there’s no need to make it too mainstream.]
Ning Qiuyan fell silent.
Guan Heng said: [Composing scores suits you.]
Ning Qiuyan sat up: [Really?]
Guan Heng replied: [You’re sensitive enough to emotion. For example, this piece-it moves me.]
This piece could move Guan Heng?
So, did Guan Heng sense the emotions and the unspoken secrets hidden in this piece?
Ning Qiuyan didn’t dare to hope.
But in an instant, he regained his confidence, even taking a few excited deep breaths.
Getting encouragement from Guan Heng really meant a lot to him.
After that, he practiced according to Guan Heng’s suggestions, and every few days, he’d muster up the courage to send his practice videos to Guan Heng.
Guan Heng was probably lonely. Although he only replied late at night, and always briefly, he was always patient. Besides the pieces he was preparing for his audition, Ning Qiuyan also shared some of his favorite music with Guan Heng.
Guan Heng did the same.
Music became their common topic. Ning Qiuyan never felt awkward silences anymore, and sometimes he even dared to ask some slightly bold questions.
For example, he asked Guan Heng: “What’s the longest you’ve ever slept?”
Guan Heng said, “Over a hundred years.”
A day later, Ning Qiuyan’s questions got even stranger: “Do you sleep in a coffin, like a Vampire in the movies?”
Guan Heng: “No. I just sleep.”
Another two days later, Ning Qiuyan gathered more information about Guan Heng and asked speculatively: “The news says you spent a fortune buying Du Island, but I think the previous owners of Du Island were probably you too, right?”
“Yes,” Guan Heng said.
Because Guan Heng indulged him, Ning Qiuyan’s questions jumped all over the place.
“Why did you give me headphones?” he asked. “Could you hear me downstairs from upstairs?”
Guan Heng: “Mm. You’re noisy.”
Ning Qiuyan: “It’s not my fault, Xiaoxiaole is noisy.”
Then he suddenly realized something, and his face flushed. Guan Heng hadn’t just said he could hear him playing games, but also the sounds of him walking around his room, showering, and even… his breathing and sleep-talking.
Another day.
Ning Qiuyan was chatting about something else, but suddenly circled back to the topic of hearing, asking Guan Heng: [How far can you hear? Can you hear sounds outside the house?]
Guan Heng: [Very far.]
As if he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he added: [Ning Qiuyan, stop.]
The distance between them suddenly felt much closer.
Ning Qiuyan looked forward to evening more and more each day.
When he got a call from Lu Qianque, he realized how quickly the month had passed.
In the blink of an eye, it was time to go to Du Island.
Lu Qianque said he was going to Du Island and asked if he should pick up Ning Qiuyan.
Ning Qiuyan remembered that last time he went to Du Island, Uncle Kang had mentioned that this time Lu Qianque would come, and he’d bring his child.
Guan Heng would call Ning Qiuyan a “good kid.” Maybe, given their ages, all these humans could be called children, but Lu Qianque’s child was really just a child.
The child’s voice came through Lu Qianque’s phone, asking him to invite Ning Qiuyan to take the helicopter with them.
Every time Lu Qianque went to Du Island, he took a helicopter.
He’d told Ning Qiuyan before-they never took boats.
Ning Qiuyan thought, when they met, maybe he’d have less boring questions to ask Guan Heng.
Author’s note:
At this point, Xiao Ning and Old Guan are like online friends chatting passionately for a month, about to meet in real life.
PS: Hans Zimmer, the eternal god of film scores!!!!!!