[Yu Huang] The Pontoon Bridge of Dreams

and brightened up.

And all these gentle emotions and tactful expressions are not very involved in his performances in the past. If he needs to be sad, then he imagines a sad mood, and if he needs grief, then let himself grieve. It's so straightforward but not delicate enough, only this time - the first time he brought his own feelings into his performance clearly, all those strange but familiar emotions are only for one person, Therefore, he must be the first to tell him.

And what he can't clearly express in words, his piano sound can do.

That part of the affection that has been rubbed into the melody and can no longer be separated is completely and frankly revealed at this moment, just waiting for the other party's acceptance.

But Yu Wenzhou didn't speak, he clasped his fingers tightly, but leaned over to kiss him first.

How could he not feel it.

What they want to say and express, no matter what form they use, is actually the same.But at this moment, the language seemed pale, and the notes were no longer enough, so he had no choice but to seriously kiss him and tell him his answer.

Because the answer is the same no matter when and how many times you ask.

He naturally accepted it, and he would give him the most timely and appropriate response without hesitation for every bit of emotional effort.

He relaxed a little while breathing intertwined, and the two pressed their foreheads together. Huang Shaotian heard Yu Wenzhou say, "Just now you asked me if I should put my hands on my heart when I greet the audience..."

"I want to say, no, and it doesn't need to be."

"But for you, Shaotian..." Yu Wenzhou raised his hand, the hand that had written countless beautiful notes and played many melodious melodies, carefully and tentatively stopped at the side of his face, the palm warmly pressed against his face. Coming up, Huang Shaotian raised his hand to hold his own, and heard him continue, "For you, you must put your hand on your heart and bow ninety degrees in respect."

He didn't want to analyze what percentage of his feelings for Huang Shaotian were, which ones accounted for the most, and which ones were the most important.What the composer writes is the musical note and the melody. These are originally the control and expression of all human emotions, and he was familiar with this kind of expression at first, but when he experienced it personally, he was I feel that I have very little knowledge and know very little—maybe love is companionship, respect and understanding, but in fact it doesn’t matter to him—he doesn’t care, let alone distinguish.

He only knows that for this person, he deserves his 100% attention and respect, all his favor and admiration, and moreover, he deserves his unhesitating and unreserved love.

And what Huang Shaotian wants to say to him, what he wants to express in the music is nothing more than these.

Because they were too close to each other, they couldn’t see each other’s expressions clearly. The lights above their heads left a small gap of light and shadow interlaced between them. The whole concert hall was quiet and empty. Applause, just the two of them, breathing and smelling each other, close to each other, sharing this moment of tranquility.

He used to think that the solo stage would always be so empty, except for himself and the accompanying piano, there was only the dark crowd of the audience, but the audience was in two worlds with him, and there was always only him one.But now that he and Yu Wenzhou are so close, he feels that the world and space have become narrower. The sudden satisfaction and surprise made him feel a little unreal.

And Yu Wenzhou remembered some anecdotes and anecdotes he had read about Huang Shaotian's favorite performer. He put down his hand, stepped back slightly, and repeated softly with a smile on his lips: "They have been Said, when I play in my life, I always have a cold face. But they still come to my concerts, I don't understand what they want from me?"

His voice was very soft and slow, Huang Shaotian was taken aback when he heard the words, of course he knew where the words came from and who they were talking about, and just now, when he decided to play that prelude to Yu Wenzhou, he still Thinking of this self-deprecating but really perplexing sentence, when he heard Yu Wenzhou say this at this time, he was a little surprised but then smiled knowingly. He shook his head and laughed, and replied: "I don't know what they wanted out of those performances, but I got a lot out of it..."

Then he looked at Yu Wenzhou and asked back, "Then what about you?"

What do you want from my playing?

His rhetorical question was also expected by Yu Wenzhou. Yu Wenzhou fumbled and clasped the fingers of his left hand. Years of practice had left a thin layer of calluses on his fingertips, which felt a little rough to the touch. He rubbed those fingers like medals and certificates. callus, replied: "I, what I want from you..."

Tightening his fingers, staring seriously at his eyes, Yu Wenzhou blinked and said, "It's the same as what you want to convey to me."

The eyes of the person on the opposite side were very bright. He laughed when he heard his answer, and then nodded in affirmation: "Yes, that's right. It's the same kind."

"It's love." He was a little embarrassed but very straightforward to help him complete the words. He wanted to pass all his love, which he could express and pour out, to him through his performance, even though it might be possible. What he showed was far less than one ten-thousandth of what he thought in his heart, but he still had to make this effort and attempt. He had heard so many works and performed so many other people's melodies and stories, all of which were other people's feelings. memories, but only this time, he did it for himself—to convey his feelings to his loved ones through his playing—there was no simpler reason than this.

It seems that all the ambiguity has been settled. There is no more uncertain confusion about performance and feelings. It will be a matter of course, and the road ahead will continue, and it will be a new journey.

At this time, Yu Wenzhou's cell phone vibrated untimely, he glanced at the caller ID, and said, "It should be urging us to hurry over..."

Huang Shaotian couldn't help but "tsk": "These people! They really know how to seize the opportunity to spoil the atmosphere!"

Yu Wenzhou looked up at him leisurely: "Oh? What kind of atmosphere did you spoil?"

His originally neatly buttoned shirt has now opened the top two buttons, and the bow tie that was neatly tied on the stage just now has been torn loose by him. It was very rare to see some cynical taste, Huang Shaotian quickly made up his mind, and quickly replied: "Of course it ruined the atmosphere of our discussion of academic issues - you see, didn't we just talk about music very much?" But now they want us to have dinner together, alas, having dinner together after the performance is simply a bad school habit, after the performance, we should reflect on where we can improve and make mistakes—"

While talking, he quickly looked at Yu Wenzhou, wondering how the sneak attack would be smoother and easier to succeed, and at the same time, he also thought that he must mute Yu Wenzhou’s cell phone as soon as possible. His eyes still stopped at the collar of his shirt. He remembered that when he went to the exam not long ago, Yu Wenzhou helped him tie the tie under the teaching building. He feels that there have been many Mahlers - of course he doesn't dislike Mahler, but he just feels that every time he listens to Mahler, the time will always become longer.

Yu Wenzhou took notice of his answer and his eyes, and Yu Wenzhou cooperated with him to mute the phone. He was about to say something when Huang Shaotian grabbed his arm. Dazed, the phone dropped straight away, Huang Shaotian was startled by the noise, and instinctively wanted to bend down to pick it up, but he was a little uncertain, but Yu Wenzhou also gave him a hand at the same time, and the phone dropped neatly When they reached the ground, the two of them also backed up a few steps because they pulled Qiqi on each other, and as a result, they stepped on the curtain behind the stage. The long and heavy velvet curtain hadn't been washed for a long time. With such a bump and a step, a handful of ashes fell in a coordinated manner.

"Oh, how long has it been since I cleaned it up? Who is in charge of the cleaning of this concert hall and wrote to the principal's mailbox to complain—ah, sneeze!" Huang Shaotian sneezed while rubbing his bewildered eyes, Yu Wenzhou raised his hand to brush away the dust in front of his eyes, looked at Huang Shaotian whose face was wrinkled into a ball, thought about the chain reaction he had just caused, which was probably self-inflicted, and laughed very unkindly.

Sure enough, Huang Shaotian looked over immediately, coughed twice and said seriously: "What are you laughing at!"

"Wrong, wrong, I shouldn't have laughed." Yu Wenzhou waved his hand, but he couldn't hide the smile on his lips. He remembered that the switch of the light that was on on the stage was right here, and sure enough, he stretched his hand back. He touched it, and without hesitation, he directly turned off the last light, the only light source.

It was dark all of a sudden, so that the two people's sights couldn't adapt immediately, but after all, the light was turned off by Yu Wenzhou, he was somewhat prepared, Huang Shaotian asked him a little puzzled: "Why are you turning off the light? Can you see clearly when the light is dark? ——Oh, I see, okay, Yu Wenzhou—”

"Didn't you say you want a better atmosphere? I think the atmosphere is good now..." Yu Wenzhou smiled and took his hand in the dark, when Huang Shaotian snorted and said, "And don't you think it's better to turn off the lights?" , is it easier for you to sneak attack me?"

"I'm sneaking up on a ghost after you said it... Don't open your eyes and talk nonsense! Look at the portrait of Haydn hanging in the corridor over there, don't you feel ashamed of facing the patriarch Yu Wenzhou! "Huang Shaotian who was exposed unwillingly started talking nonsense, but Yu Wenzhou didn't even care who he pulled as a shield. It doesn't matter who is hanging on the wall, even the patriarch can't stop people from falling in love?

He laughed, and stopped talking, took his arm to draw him closer, and kissed him directly.

They hugged each other tightly in the darkness, the piano and the violin case not far away had only a vague dark outline, and the seats under the stage farther away were even darker and could no longer be seen clearly, Huang Shaotian tightened his arms, he He thought, he probably wouldn't know what other people want to hear and get when they come to listen to his performance, but he knew that if Yu Wenzhou could get love from it and hear it, that would be enough.

Close your eyes, the world is dark, but it also looks gentle because of it.