Old-time musicians

Ten o'clock in the evening, on the second floor of the hotel, Woodpecker Consulting Office.

The reception hall is covered with red carpet, with old sofas and coffee tables.

A negotiation room behind the corridor.

In the room of more than ten square meters, several gas lamps are turned on, illuminating the four walls with dark green diagonal wallpaper, and there is almost no shadow on the objects.

Fanning sat in a soft armchair covered with light purple velvet, and opposite the dark mahogany table was Sir Viadrin.

He looked at the plates of two people in front of him.

A large piece of steaming Nipro Western Ranch thick-cut steak with black pepper sauce; cold mashed potatoes dotted with raspberries, strawberries and black grape pieces; fried mullet meatballs squeezed with cream and sprinkled with mushroom powder; and a small glass of amber-colored Piodoro Winery red wine.

"I just made it on the spur of the moment." Viadrin cut off a small piece of juicy steak, stuffed it into his mouth, and continued while chewing, "Eat first if you haven't eaten yet."

Even if his voice was lowered, it still made the eardrums ring.

"Oh? Oh." Fanning responded, hunger overwhelmed the surprise, and then started eating.

The steak was so tender that he almost bit off his tongue; the fruit mashed potatoes were cool and soft, sour, sweet and salty; the meatballs were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and they were fragrant inside and out, with a wonderful complex taste; finally, he drank the Piodoro red wine with a mixture of sour and light taste, and a rich fruity aroma and throat impact.

Fanning only took ten minutes to clean them up, then slumped in the armchair, watching the plate being cleared away by the visitor.

Did he eat too casually and too perfunctorily for the first few meals after crossing over?

This was the first time he experienced such a strong appetite and satisfaction.

It even felt like the inspiration for the sequel to the "First Symphony" had come out.

Should I say something polite first, saying that the food is delicious...

"If I hadn't heard about Anton's death and rushed back earlier, you wouldn't have seen me." Viadrin on the opposite side wiped his mouth and spoke.

"..." Fanning's polite words that hadn't been brewed died prematurely, and he didn't know how to answer.

"How much does this meal cost?" In the end, he changed to this sentence.

"If it's cooked by the boy downstairs, it's not expensive, just a few shillings a pound."

Smoke shop...

Fanning was so scared that he shut his mouth.

"Anton asked you to complete his last symphony, which might be the best choice." Viadrin suddenly talked about this topic.

"Is... is that so? Why?"

"I received his letter when I was out. When I learned that he was going to let one of his students who had not yet graduated continue to write and publish it, I thought it was too childish. It was not until I rushed back to Uvransel overnight that I happened to hear your impromptu performance."

Fanning was a little surprised: "You were also there in the morning?"

"So do you want to talk about your teacher first, or the 'knower' first?"

"Ah?" Fanning was a little stunned. He sat up straight. "Aren't you a piano teacher?"

The words that came out of his mind at the same time were actually: "Aren't you a chef?"

"Shouldn't you want to know those two first?" Viadrin's heavy voice hit his heart.

Fanning nodded: "Indeed, let's talk about Teacher Anton first."

"Shelan once had a sister."

"Huh?"

Fanning really didn't know.

Of course, he met Teacher Anton after entering St. Lenya University. In less than four years, he really hadn't heard the teacher or Shelan mention it.

And from this statement, Teacher Anton's eldest daughter has been dead for quite a long time.

"Shilan's sister used to be a civilian employee here. If she were still alive, she would be two or three years older than you."

"So is she a 'knower'?" Fanning asked.

Viadrin shook his head.

"I watched her grow up as her piano teacher. When she was about 16 or 17 years old, she was involved in a mysterious incident at school. Several other classmates she encountered died in succession a few days later."

"Fortunately, I was her piano teacher. I noticed something strange in the class the next day and saved her from the brink of death."

"The instigator behind the mysterious incident was a secret organization that worshipped evil gods. We cooperated with the guys from the Special Patrol Office to destroy all the strongholds we found, investigated and dealt with all the evil people involved in the case, and eliminated the impact of the incident as much as possible."

"For the purpose of continuous protection, it is also a good job. Soon after, she joined our civilian staff team to assist us in handling relatively less dangerous auxiliary daily affairs. Her father trusted me and was naturally happy to see this. Of course, she also signed a confidentiality agreement for the specific content of the affairs."

"What happened next?" Fan Ning couldn't help asking.

"Later? After a few years, she was still 'lost'..." Viadrin's tone was deeper than the bass of the piano, "She ended her life in an incomprehensible way... This is her father's most painful memory, and he doesn't even want to mention it in any way."

Incomprehensible way...

Just like the death of the two classmates the police officer mentioned before?

Fanning felt a little chilly, and he couldn't help asking more confusing questions:

"Are you an 'knowing' organization?"

"Is the Orthodox Church we are familiar with an 'knowing' organization?"

"What is your relationship with the Special Patrol Office?"

"What is 'lost'?"

...

"So let's talk about the second topic, about 'knowing'." Viadrin said seriously.

Fanning sat up straight.

Viadrin stood up, opened the dark lacquered oak cabinet against the wall, and took out a strange combination candlestick with seven layers. The number of small candles on each layer was different, presenting a mysterious sense of unevenness.

Light the yellow phosphorus match, and after all the candles were lit, turn off all the gas switches.

The room became dim and mysterious.

"Our souls long to be illuminated by the 'candle.'" Viadrin muttered to himself in the flickering light and shadow.

Put the candlestick on the table, clamp the small glass aromatherapy vaporizer on the metal ring on the largest candle, and drip the red mixed essential oil in the small brown bottle.

"The 'pool' of secret atmosphere dispels the sense of disharmony."

There was a strange sweet fragrance in the room, and Fanning didn't quite understand it.

Mix the coarse salt with some purple dye and sprinkle it on the outer circle of the table to form a closed curve.

"The key is our shelter when we dismantle inspiration."

Finally, Viadrin took out a disc-shaped black and purple lac insect resin record, put it into the shiny black cabinet phonograph in the corner, and pressed the switch.

The sound of music in the speaker sounded.

"Art beyond language symbolizes the prayers that stabilize the mind."

"The large church music "Requiem in A Minor" by Master Karatani in his later years?" This was the only thing Fanning could recognize, although he didn't understand it all.

The candlelight flickered in the room, the incense diffused, and the woodwind orchestration group and the French horn played a gray and melancholy prelude against the heavy rhythm of the strings and the sound of the bells, and then the choir sang the gray, fearful, and trembling theme of the hymn.

He suddenly felt that his senses became sharper and his mouth was a little thirsty, but his consciousness was wrapped in a thin layer of "membrane" or "structure", and he gained a strange sense of protection.

"Sir Viadrin, I...I want to ask, why do we want to discuss this topic?" Fanning finally asked.

"Because, most of what we are going to talk about next will involve 'hidden knowledge'." Viadrin's answer made him even more confused.

"So, all this is to protect our sanity."