world class art fanatic

The assistant looked enraged, as if he had never seen someone like Zhong Ying who could make him speechless.

He even seemed to want to teach this arrogant young man a lesson. He looked at the bodyguard next to him, and wanted to arrange the funeral with the bodyguard at any time.

However, Zhong Ying looked at him with a smile, stood up straight, and didn't think there was anything wrong with his accusation at all.

With his fingers resting on the back of the chair, he moved leisurely, as if accompaniment or timing for their thoughts.

The viewing room was silent, and the assistant hesitated again and again, his eyes swept over Zhong Ying's fingers, as if he was afraid of Bellu's order, and there was nothing he could do about this expensive guqin player.

Suddenly, Zhong Ying asked: "Do you want to show the documentary again? Maybe I can tell you more about alien civilizations."

The assistant hesitated to speak, obviously thinking of his example of an alien civilization, and directly dismissed the idea of ​​showing another documentary.

"Today's visit is over, I will send you two back to the manor!"

As he spoke, he looked at Zhou Juntong angrily, "Tell the curator that Mr. Bellou is very disappointed in him."

Verbal threats and intimidation cannot save anything.

Zhou Juntong stood outside the gate of the museum, his eyes were still red, but his emotions calmed down. He clasped his hands and watched them leave.

Li Jinqiu waved his hand to say goodbye to her, turned around and left the museum with Zhong Ying, and boarded the vehicle back to the manor.

On the way back, both of them became extremely silent.

Zhong Ying was not in the mood to chat about what he had seen in the museum, and Li Jinqiu had no expectation of returning to his cell.

The vehicle travels all the way and returns on the same road.

When they were about to return to the suite, the assistant who calmed down, still looking businesslike and polite, asked in confirmation:

"Will you still play for M. Bellou's concerts?"

Zhong Ying smiled, "Yes."

After he answered affirmatively, the door of the suite was closed tightly.

Zhong Ying immediately faced Li Jinqiu's unbelievable doubts.

"Why do you still play for Bellew?"

His tone was shocked, as if he suspected that Zhong Ying was out of his mind, "You should hate Bellu very much. For a person like him, you are willing to play "Golden Bells" for him and wish him a birthday?"

Zhong Ying walked slowly to the living room. He was very happy with the composer's point of view, which completely changed after a trip to the museum, but he still had his own persistence.

"Belou is indeed worthy of my hatred. But only if I play that piano, it will not return to the closed storage room and lose the freedom it just gained."

Zhong Ying sat on the sofa and stretched leisurely, "So it doesn't matter if I play "Golden Bells" or something else."

"I have something to say."

Li Jinqiu's face is serious, his sword eyebrows are slightly raised, and he feels very oppressive when he looks down at people with anger.

He said: "I am a very moral composer. The pieces I write can be played by anyone, because music is in harmony and art has no boundaries."

"However, I don't allow myself to write warm and beautiful blessing songs to him knowing that the other party is a robber who breaks promises and is punished by everyone. If it is spread out, it will definitely become a stain in my life that I can't sleep or eat. "

After only getting along for a few days, Zhong Ying felt that he was completely used to Li Jinqiu's character.

Go straight to the point, say what you want to say, without thinking about whether you will offend anyone, and you are not afraid of offending anyone at all.

Li Jinqiu was so free and easy that he envied him, dispelling the slight unhappiness in Zhong Ying's heart caused by the hypocritical whitewashing of the museum.

He looked up at Li Jinqiu, and asked curiously: "Then what are you going to do? It is impossible for us to withdraw the performance of "Golden Bell". Even if I don't show up, I believe Domenic can play it perfectly."

Zhong Ying's words hit Li Jinqiu's biggest anger point.

"It cannot be withdrawn, but it can be changed. Of course, I will never allow Domenic to change it!"

Li Jinqiu looked at Zhong Ying with a firm gaze, without any pain of being trapped.

He said in a provocative tone: "You are the core of the performance, and the whole orchestra is playing guqin concertos for you. Whatever you play is what you play."

Zhong Ying felt something in his heart, and felt that Li Jinqiu would not do such crazy things.

"I don't understand what you mean," he said in confirmation.

"Is there something I don't understand!"

Li Jinqiu raised his eyebrows to look at him, folded his arms, and spoke solemnly, "This kind of old guy, why do you still listen to the golden bell, let's just listen to the death knell!"

There are still two days until the birthday party.

Li Jinqiu and Zhong Ying, without the entertainment of going to the museum, simply stayed in the room and played the "Suqin".

"I want this tone."

Li Jinqiu sat on the sofa and hummed a tune lightly, imitating the impression the guqin gave him.

Zhong Ying sat cross-legged beside him, nodded with a smile after listening, and then hung his slender fingers in the air to hook the wheel, very cooperative.

Li Jinqiu couldn't understand the fingering of the guqin, but with music in his mind, he could feel the beautiful tone of the vibrating strings.

Zhong Ying is indeed a genius, listening to his tone-deficient demonstration, he can also play the tune, which is really great.

Li Jinqiu completely forgot how he was last night, how he disliked the performance art of playing the piano in the void. At this moment, he even felt that he understood Tao Yuanming a little bit.

The plain qin has no sound, but the player who plays it deliberately puts his love on the qin, sonorous and willful.

The melodies that echoed in his mind resounded through the gorgeous prison cell under the precise playing of Zhong Ying's fingers, and the music that brought him life returned.

The restlessness and boredom in Li Jinqiu's heart gradually dissipated in the serious pressing and picking of the strings with his hands.

Zhong Ying always has many ways to let him immerse himself in the world of music quietly.

After the song was played, Zhong Ying quietly felt the improvised melody just now.

Every tone and every transition was recorded in his heart, but he didn't know if Li Jinqiu would like it when he heard the actual performance.

However, Li Jinqiu didn't care.

As long as "Golden Bells" is no longer a congratulation to the shameless, it will be just what he wants if it turns into a chilling and murderous melody.

So, they signaled alone in the living room, and played and revised "Golden Bells" by themselves, gradually changing the part of the solo instrument into a completely different melody.

Li Jinqiu is very satisfied with this change. He is looking forward to the gentle orchestral music in B-flat major, and the unexpected melee with the sad darkness in C minor.

"Golden Bell" became what he wanted. After repeated confirmation, Li Jinqiu asked, "How are you going to play the Huacai part?"

Although he likes Zhong Ying's impromptu performance, he thinks, "The old dead tree in spring is definitely not suitable for the new bell."

"It's really not suitable..."

Zhong Ying thought for a while and said, "I can improvise, but there is one piece that I have been practicing and want to replay on Yayun."

"What?" Li Jinqiu was interested and full of curiosity.

Zhong Ying sat on the sofa, and slowly tapped the leather surface of the sofa with his fingers, "Mr. Shen played "War City South" when he was raising funds for the Anti-Japanese War charity performance."

Li Jinqiu didn't understand Han Yuefu, but when he heard the title of this song, he couldn't help feeling a solemn mood.

Maybe it's because of Mr. Shen's passionate performance for the Anti-Japanese War, or maybe it's because the title of the poem has the murderous aura of gold and iron horses.

In order to confirm his thoughts, he asked cautiously: "What song is this?"

"A mournful poem about the misery of war, written for those who fell in battle."

Zhong Ying recited "War City South", and Li Jinqiu listened quietly.

The poems and images in ancient times are very different from the habits of modern poetry. Li Jinqiu listened very painfully, and could vaguely feel the cruelty and ruthlessness of war.

Fortunately, Zhong Ying saw Li Jinqiu's confusion and explained: "This poem describes the scene where the dead man speaks and asks the crow to eat his own carrion and cry for him. But after Mr. Shen rewrote it, it turned into his grief and indignation at the frontline war."

"The Japanese launched an unjust war, and we fought a war to defend our country."

"However, the disparity between the enemy and us, the death of the anti-Japanese soldiers was miserable, and no one collected the corpses. Only the crows pecked at the carrion and wailed hoarsely for the soldiers, accusing the crimes of the war of aggression against China and the shamelessness of the invaders..."

Li Jinqiu doesn't understand Han Yuefu, but he understands musicians.

With a few simple words, Zhong Ying could imagine how a Guqin player in a long gown and stroking the strings grieved for the dead souls of the Anti-Japanese War.

"Mr. Shen is a martyr." He said affirmatively.

Zhong Ying looked at him with a smile, plucked the non-existent strings with his fingers, and corrected Li Jinqiu in a calm and deep voice.

"Mr. Shen is not a martyr, but he can be regarded as a man of lofty ideals and righteousness. Even when he was studying Han Yuefu music scores behind closed doors, he often listened to war news from afar and worried about the future of the country."

Zhong Ying thought of those diaries, which not only recorded Shen Ling's experience in studying the music score, but also the anxiety and worry about the frontline battle situation.

Happy when you win, sad when you lose.

Between great sorrow and great joy, Mr. Shen finally comprehended the true meaning of the Millennium Yuefu, and found the strongest purpose of existence after the establishment of the Yiyin Yashe.

"When Mr. Shen mobilized the Yiyin Ya Club to raise funds for the premiere performance, the performers were all perfect people who strived for perfection. They expressed that they didn't want to rush on stage without being ready and leave regrets."

"But Mr. Shen said that the front line is so dangerous, if we don't stand up, who knows if we will have the life to study a more perfect Yuefu score and prepare a better performance tomorrow."

"It's better to stand up today, make your own voice, and die without regret."

Zhong Ying thought that every word recorded on the paper could feel the concerns of the musicians.

Even Mr. Shen wrote anxiously before the performance:

"If something goes wrong tomorrow, it will be my fault. I only hope that the patriarch will open his eyes and know that we are wholehearted and protect our performance."

They are literati who cannot be carried on their shoulders or carried by their hands, but they are not cowards.

In the first performance in 1937, Shisan Xianzhu was not well prepared and did not appear on the stage. It cannot be regarded as a complete millennium legacy.

However, they still collected a large amount of supplies and sent them to the front line, relieving some of the logistical pressure and strengthening the belief of everyone in Qingling Lake to support the War of Resistance until victory.

As a result, the performances of Yiyin Yashe have been held regularly, and wealthy businessmen and dignitaries from all over the country have heard the news.

It wasn't until Qingling Lake fell that they stopped performing on stage.

After Li Jinqiu listened quietly, he suddenly felt his chest was heavy and flustered.

Music and war, music and fate are always closely intertwined.

Mr. Shen's refusal to play music for the Japanese army sealed the tragic fate of Yiyin Yashe, which made it difficult for him to breathe.

"At that time, Yiyin Yasha, why didn't they perform for the Japanese?"

Li Jinqiu couldn't understand, and his way of thinking was full of romantic indignation.

"They should use music to express their thoughts, angrily denounce the shamelessness of the aggressors, directly in front of the audience, and make those Japanese feel ashamed!"

Zhong Ying said: "It's not that no one has raised your point of view, but the situation during the war cannot be inferred from our current situation."

"You think, our soldiers are fighting the enemy bravely, regardless of their lives, but Yiyin Yashe is playing the piano for the enemy in a place where the soldiers have shed all their blood but failed to protect..."

Zhong Ying gave a wry smile.

"The spread of such news is not like the Yiyin Yashe is fighting with music, but more like a compromise to the invaders."

Zhong Ying understands the idea of ​​musicians who want to use music to awaken the sleeping will.

But the Japanese army is not a sleeping lion, but a bloody executioner.

Wherever they went, there were all the blood and innocent souls of brothers and sisters who were suffering.

No matter how indifferent and ruthless the pianist is, he can't play music for the Japanese in the cruel and bloody Qingling Lake.

Even if this piece of music contains their endless hatred for the invaders, they are unwilling and even less able to play for the invaders.

Zhong Ying sighed quietly, and rang the empty and soft sofa casually, as if he was practicing the brand-new bell just now, or lamenting with the help of a plain piano.

"After Mr. Shen was released from prison, people still advised him that he would not be harshly criticized if he obeyed the Japanese military officer's request, and he would shine in China and Japan. He sternly refused, even if the other party was his friend, he would not care about the past. , and drive people out of the door."

"Because he hates the murderous invaders, and even more the servile traitors."

Some topics become heavy when talked about.

Li Jinqiu's history is not good enough, and he can also feel the deep emotions engraved in his soul.

He had a lot of things to say, and seeing Zhong Ying slowly stroking the strings, he was obviously used to these painful histories since he was a child, and he didn't need other people's comfort for a long time.

Therefore, Li Jinqiu changed the subject and promised:

"Don't worry, you will play boldly at the concert, and if there is any problem, I will help you solve it."

The composer is so confident that he speaks as if they are not inmates in a cell.

Zhong Ying stopped and looked at him seriously, "Where did you get your confidence?"

Li Jinqiu narrowed his eyes slightly, and smiled slyly, "Because I asked my sister to find Domenique, she will definitely be able to contact Master Fan, or she may directly contact the embassy in Italy, saying that Bellou was illegally detained!"

Zhong Ying looked at him in surprise.

In the museum, he could have sought Zhou Juntong's help and contacted Master.After much hesitation, Zhong Ying gave up on this idea.

Because the assistant is tough enough to bring Zhou Juntong back to the manor and add a poor roommate to them.

"When did you tell her?" Zhong Ying asked curiously.

Li Jinqiu replied with a smile, "The Bellu Museum is full of small notes for messages. I just took a piece of paper and a pen and wrote them for her."

Zhong Ying looked at him in astonishment, feeling that this statement was unbelievable.

Throughout the trip to the museum, he paid close attention to the surrounding situation, so he naturally knew the museum's message note.

But Li Jinqiu has no impression of such a big action of writing a note?

Li Jinqiu raised his eyebrows, smiled triumphantly, stretched out his left hand, and easily broke off the dried flowers for decoration on the coffee table.

A leaf, a long dried flower, became the note and pen for his demonstration.

He turned slightly sideways, with his left hand behind his waist, and his right hand was concealed, and he made a posture of holding a pen with one hand and writing backwards.

The white flowers trembled between his fingers, and it was really difficult to find that he was writing with the branches without looking carefully.

The difficulty is superb, comparable to that of an agent.

After the demonstration, Li Jinqiu held the leaves and decorative flowers between his fingers, handed them to Zhong Ying, and said proudly:

"The fingers of a composer are more flexible than you can imagine."

Zhong Ying held the flower in his hands, unfolded the lightly scratched leaves, and asked in surprise:

"... Can your sister understand the words written like this?"

"Why not!"

Li Jinqiu usually dislikes Zhou Juntong in every possible way, but at this time he praised Zhou Juntong, "I grew up with her, she is very smart, she can't even understand my words, so don't mess around."

"She is good at everything, but her talent is too poor. After 18 years of piano and violin learning, she has not been successful. When she came to Italy, she went to study cultural relics restoration. It is a smart choice."

Zhong Ying could hear that Li Jinqiu disliked people without talent, so he couldn't help rebutting: "Learning an instrument doesn't necessarily depend on talent."

"You do not understand."

Li Jinqiu insisted, "In our family, if you don't have talent, don't choose music. You will be happier."

"Leave her alone, we'll just wait for rescue."

He didn't seem to want to talk about it, so he brought the topic back, "You can play "War City South", I want to hear it."

For the two people locked up, someone will report their movements to Harrison Bellew at any time.

For example, after Zhong Ying visited the museum, he was greatly moved and changed his stubborn thoughts.

For example, Li Jinqiu really convinced Zhong Ying, they chatted about composing music in the room, and they didn't forget "Golden Bells" for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Bellou was very happy after hearing this, and continued to look forward to his birthday.

On the morning of his 97th birthday, he put on a comfortable suit with Italian daisies on his chest, and sat in a wheelchair, waiting for Zhong Ying and Li Jinqiu to leave the room.

The musician, who had been locked up for three full days, saw Bellew when he went out, with a subtle expression on his face.

However, Bellou smiled and said: "Thank you for changing your mind and willing to celebrate my birthday."

Zhong Ying looked at the assistant next to him clearly, knowing what the other said without asking.

For a moment he felt sorry for Bellou.

The people around are all saying good things, not telling the truth. I think the sentences I said have also been exaggerated and beautified, and sent to Beilu to please the old man.

But it doesn't matter, he will immediately have a more direct and clearer expression than words, and tell Bellou what he thinks in his heart.

No one can twist his meaning.

Zhong Ying smiled politely and gave the 97-year-old man basic respect.

"Please listen to the qin at night, Harrison Bellew. This is the bell given to you by Shixian Yayun and Mr. Shen."

Bellew's heart was beating fast.

He went from the manor decorated with flowers and curtains to the gorgeous and beautiful musical theater, and his heart beat faster and faster.

At this time, he is happier than building a museum, building a musical theater, and receiving overwhelming praise from the media.

The corner of his mouth was always smiling, appreciating the beautiful roses in the third rose hall, as well as the favorite daisies of the Italians.

Domenique presented him with a simple bouquet of daisies and reached out to straighten his tie.

"Bless you, my old friend."

Bellu is holding a small bouquet, which is his favorite flower. The flower language is "the love hidden in my heart", just like his feelings for Shen Ling.

Domenic said a lot, and specifically mentioned Zhong Ying who was preparing for the performance backstage.

"He is the most talented guqin player I have ever seen. If you like the music later, may I make a suggestion?"

Bellew, with cloudy eyes, looked at him patiently holding a bouquet.

Domenic seemed to have made up his mind and said, "Can you give him that imitation ten-stringed qin and let him take it back to China?"

"This is impossible."

No matter how good Beilu's mood is, he treats Yayun as always.

He reached out and grabbed his friend whom he had known for 40 years, and asked in a low voice: "Domi, have you betrayed me? You have been bewitched by the Chinese, and you also think that everything I do is wrong?"

"Harrison..."

Domenic seldom called him that, and did not deny the fact that he wanted to help Zhong Ying, "Then tell me how the ten-stringed harp in the collection room and the letters on the wall came to you."

Bellou let go of his hand, chose to be silent, and looked at him in resistance.

The pianist who was no longer young sighed and asked, "Even if you like music, what's the use of keeping that piano? Shen Ling is no longer here."

"he is."

The 97-year-old is exceptionally persistent, showing a childlike stubbornness.

"I'll see him soon."

The third Rose Hall, the unobstructed position in the first row, is enough for Bellou to comfortably enjoy the stage decorated with daisies and roses.

This is not a serious concert, but to celebrate his birthday.

Politicians, businessmen, relatives, and friends all sent blessings to him. Flower baskets and bouquets outside the door filled the corridors, and journalists also chased and took pictures of the philanthropist.

However, he only cared about The Golden Bells.

It is his lifelong expectation to be able to perform the concerto with ten strings and elegant rhymes. No matter how many people come to him to chat, chat and send blessings to him, they can't distract him.

Because, he only cares about the orchestra walking out on the stage, the conductor standing in the middle, and his long-awaited "Golden Bell".

On behalf of the orchestra and the Italian Music Theater, conductor Pamela offered his best wishes to the old man.

The protagonist of this birthday concert opened his eyes wide, and continued to look at the backstage covered by the curtain, urging the assistants around him.

"Where's Zhong Ying? Where's my qin? When will they come out?"

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra was seated in an orderly manner, leaving only the solo instrument position and the empty piano table, waiting for the performers to appear.

The roaring applause followed a tall young man.

He was holding a distinctive guqin, without casting a single glance at the great Harrison Bellew, and walked slowly towards the piano table.

But Bellew stared at him.

He was wearing the long gown that Chinese people used to wear at that time, with slanted buttons and long hem. The light blue and moon white color never faded, like a young old man who came all the way across a long and dreary time and space. Celebrate a best friend's birthday.

Bellu's throat suddenly became dry, and his eye sockets became moist.

Because what he saw was not the stubborn Zhong Ying, but his bosom friend——

"Shen Ling..."