And Chopin's days of playing the wind spectrum month

【return gift】

The air in the living room seemed to be frozen.

The eerie silence made Aurora's hand showing the music score freeze there, and she hardly dared to let it go.She interpreted the expression on Francois's face, the shock, astonishment, suspicion seemed to be accompanied by a little hidden anger, which made his originally gentle facial features deep and complex.

She was stunned, she must have said something wrong, right?

It's just... If François didn't like Liszt's music, why did he give himself the pianist's etude collection?Especially Chopin and Liszt are completely opposite styles.

Liszt is more like the "hard technique" on the piano, which focuses on the fingering skills of the player; Chopin should be classified as "soft technique", which requires more delicate and profound inner processing.But this does not mean that the two are completely opposed. Although they are biased, they are blended - after all, Liszt also has works with profound connotations, and Chopin also has chapters that break fingers.

Aurora stared at the "Liszt Etudes" in her hand at a loss, full of annoyance.I just wish I could go back a few minutes ago and cover her mouth that was about to over-interpret.

Wouldn't it be good to tell the other person bluntly that you "like it very much and are very happy"?Who stipulates that if you like Liszt's music, you have to hate Chopin?

There was nothing wrong with Chopin's tune, she must have upset him by mentioning this man too much in front of her fiancé - he was here to give gifts.

It was literally the worst thing she'd done since the time-travel - she'd failed a heart, the kindness a gentleman had shown her from the beginning.

How can you be so dull, how can you be so stupid!

Aurora's eyes were red with anxiety, as long as she allowed it, tears would flow out in almost a second.

"...Aurora, you are right... I, indeed, like, Liszt, the, song——"

It's like giving up the struggle, or turning all the helplessness into a sigh.The gentle male voice had a hint of a smile, and he cut out every sentence, almost gnashing his teeth but calmly. Although contradictory, he finally confirmed the girl's guess.

"Oh, François, that would be wonderful..."

The redness slowly faded from the eyes, but Aurora's amber eyes became more watery as if they had been washed.

"May I play the pieces in it for you? I'm also good at Liszt's pieces—"

The sun seemed to return to the girl.As soon as she turned around, she spread the score on the music table, sat down briskly and opened the cover of the piano, looking expectantly at the young gentleman standing beside the piano.

Afraid that he didn't know her piano skills well, she eagerly explained and added, "I don't have any problem with songs like "Majepa", "Hunting", and "Woman's Fire", as long as it's Liszt you want to listen to. I can play it all for you."

"..."

For some reason, Aurora found that Francois's eyes on her became more and more complicated.

"Aurora, I don't mind . . . you play me Chopin—I mean, I'll listen to anything you play."

"François, I'm not trying to be brave - trust me, I can really play Liszt well and I won't ruin your favorite piece!"

"..."

The girl seemed to hear a sigh of frustration.But when she went to find the source of the sound, the sigh was invisible, like an auditory hallucination.

"Then, No.11 first in D-flat major...and, the last one in B-flat minor..."

Although it was strange how François punctuated the sentence, Aurora was still very happy to finally know the song he wanted to hear.

Harmonies of the night (Harmony du soir...) and Chasseneige?

It is indeed a song that Francois would like at first glance.

But—would normal writers state the key of a piece so clearly rather than its title[1]?It seems that he really likes Liszt.

The score on the music table was quickly turned to the end, the fingers fell without hesitation, and the sound of the piano began to echo in the room.

The girl playing the piano intoxicatedly, and the boy listening to the piano with clenched fists and a smile on the sofa constitute a wonderful picture.

……

At noon, Petit began to serve dishes on the table.She tapped on the table a few times to remind Aurora to put down the score in her hand and prepare to eat.

The girl caressed the notes on the score reluctantly.After François left after listening to the two pieces, she has been reading Liszt's collection on the dining chair-although she has known these etudes for a long time.

After closing the front cover, a small block of letters with different printed fonts flashed before Aurora's eyes.Out of curiosity, she turned the music score to the title page.

There appears to be a signature in the lower right corner.

F. Liszt.

"Lee, Liszt?!"

Supporting the table, Aurora stood up abruptly, and the seat was made loud by her.

"Aurora, ladylike manners—"

"Oh, Sister Petit, I can't keep my composure. You have no idea how precious this sheet music is..."

"Really? I don't think it's any different from a normal booklet."

"It's signed by Liszt! Mammy, that's one of the greatest pianists ever. God, François gave it to me, it must be his treasure—"

Aurora gently closed the score respectfully, and solemnly put it back on the music stand.

The excitement in her heart was indescribable, she rushed to Petit, took both hands of Mammy, and happily circled around her.

"Nurse, I'm so happy—no, I must give Francois a gift in return."

When the girl stopped spinning, she saw the elder raised his eyebrows and gave her a textbook smirk.

"Miss, even if you make me dizzy, I won't respond to your 'acting like a baby'—it's okay to give Mr. Bisong a gift, but Mammy will never give you any 'sponsorship'."

Standing in front of a century-old store in Paris, Aurora rubbed her hands hesitantly.

She just got off the carriage.Although Pettit had said that she would never give her any sponsorship, she still helped her call a cab.After paying the fare, he stuffed another silver coin into her hand—one franc, just enough for her return ticket.

Jane Hepburn (J.Herbin), a French ink shop with a long history.

This is what Aurora can remember, it is in line with Francois's professional status, and it is the best return gift she can afford at the moment.

Pushing open the store door, the machine was pulled, and the copper bell hanging on the eaves of the store jingled crisply.

The huge store is unusually quiet, except for various neatly stacked containers and a dazzling array of glass showcases, there are no other decorations.

At the counter directly opposite Aurora, the old man with a monocle and the young man with a black tie stopped talking and cast their gazes at her.

"Oh, here's a guest. Old Hepburn, you go ahead and we'll talk later."

"Good day, miss, is there anything I can do for you?"

Just wondering that there is no waiter girl in the shop, only then did I realize that the gentle old man is the shop owner.

She approached the counter and clarified her request: "Hi sir, I want to give someone something as a gift... He is a writer, but seeing so many pens and inks, I don't know how to choose..."

The owner knocked on the glass and said with a smile, "Writer——Victor, I think you would be very happy to give this lady some advice?"

"You really know how to play tricks, Mr. Hepburn."

The young man responded to the shopkeeper with a smile.His eyes became sharper, and he nodded to Aurora.

"If you wish, fair lady, you can listen to me. Of course, this old fellow is the authority."

"From pen holders, nibs, paper, to inks and waxes, Jane Hepburn has been involved. But considering the object of your gift—a writer, then I suggest you exclude pen holders, nibs and paper."

"People who deal with pen and paper all the year round are actually very picky about writing tools. Most writers will have their own unique preferences. It is difficult to change the pen holder, and the nib and paper happen to be more conservative because they are changed too quickly. Only ink , as long as it is a good bottle of ink, no one will hate it - after all, even Louis XIV could not resist the temptation of Jane Hepburn."

After the young man finished speaking, he pointed to a small bottle in the showcase and continued his suggestion.

"You can send your husband a bottle of 'Perledes Encres', the classic ink of this store. It is the most suitable for the moment when the writing is flowing, and the whole text will be written in a hearty way, and there will be no black spot on the paper. Of course, use it Remember to shake it before, otherwise it will be a 'grey pearl'."

"If you only consider the meaning, you can choose the color ink 'Emerald de Chivor'. After all, as early as 200 years ago, its founder firmly believed that this bottle of blue-green ink can bring good luck. Unfortunately, I am not lucky. Guess what, but I think it's definitely 'charming' in color."

The young man stopped his speech and waved his hand to let the girl make a choice.

Aurora was amazed at this gentleman's knowledge of ink, he must be a frequent customer of this store, no wonder he has such a good relationship with the owner.

"Are you interested, miss? You don't have to stick to the two proposed by this gentleman. All the inks in the store can be tested, so you don't have to worry about the color difference."

"Excuse me...is there an ink that has the word 'Authentique' in the label? I'd like to see that first."

"Did you mean 'lawyer'? 'Real' is the black one. Looks like you missed it, Victor."

"Good Lord, 'Lawyer'? Such dull ink . . . Miss, do you know who uses it!"

With a heartbroken expression on his face, the young man restrained and strongly advised Aurora to replace it quickly.

"Sir, thank you very much for your suggestion. I know that French notaries have been using it to record important documents for hundreds of years..."

"Then you still-"

"Maybe it's old-fashioned and nothing new... But sir, 'Lawyer' is not afraid of water, and the ink color is long-lasting, and it is still legible after a hundred years."

Aurora looked at the ink bottle on the counter with soft but bright eyes, as if hidden in a sea of ​​stars.

"He is a writer—I hope that his words can be like this ink, and he will be immortal after all."