"Next ti, you should tell about these things, and we will go together. You’re just a newly adult girl, running off to another place all by yourself, and you’re so pretty. It’s really dangerous."
Gan Yanyu lowered her head, playing with her fingers like a child who had done sothing wrong, and softly said,
"But, but Lin Tian, you’re too busy... You just finished writing a piece, and now you have to train everyone... I can’t always trouble you with everything."
"I want to prove that even without you, Lin Tian, I can accomplish many things."
Gan Yanyu lifted her head, looked into Lin Tian’s eyes, and clasped her hands behind her back,
"Because, sotis, I also hope you can rely on a bit more."
...
...
In the ensemble practice a few days ago, through Bai Junze’s cello, Lin Tian understood.
Bai Junze’s feelings towards his father were never simply "hate" or "anger."
Most of the ti,
his music actually contained a tendency for self-harm.
This self-destructiveness also reflected in his wandering lifestyle.
He hated, he hated so intensely, he wished to punish his father from those years in this way.
But, to hate for ten years...
In reality, it’s no longer just simple hatred.
Like a child, understanding the love of their parents, wanting to use this way, to get their attention, to make them regret...
Fundantally, because he cares, that’s why he does this.
Beneath Bai Junze’s seemingly crazy and unrestrained exterior,
is a heart full of youthful innocence and rebellion.
Despite the ten years and a wandering life wrecking him, turning him into a disheveled and worldly man.
But his age, forever stopped at that night ten years ago by the shattered cello.
He is still the sa youth from back then, unchanged in the slightest.
...
Bai Junze caressed the cello in his hands, every stroke cautious, as if afraid too much force might shatter this already scarred instrunt.
The sa lody and rhythm points.
This prolonged tremolo, when pulled out by Bai Junze,
delivered a feeling completely different from the previous two perforrs.
Mature, steady, like a veteran soldier.
Yet within, carrying traces of youthful innocence and childlike spirit.
All the audience seed to see a weathered but incredibly young general.
He once set off with grand ambition, full of passion and ideal pursuit, vowing to achieve great feats and carve out his own empire.
And now, this general returns with exhaustion and scars, dragging a body full of holes.
He’s back.
He’s finally back.
In almost one night, he’s matured significantly.
But here, there’s no one left anymore.
.....
"For so reason... I thought of my own dad..."
In the audience, soone quickly covered their face, unable to help but say.
What kind of profound love is this?
So heavy, difficult to express.
Yet it carries a deep regret.
This cello doesn’t seem to be singing for itself, but hosting a requiem with scars for soone else.
Listening to this extrely deep music, many in the audience couldn’t help but feel lancholic.
"I didn’t expect Bai Junze’s music to beco so steady..."
"It’s like it’s been through a refinent!"
"What has he experienced... Is it the loss of a loved one?"
"Though not as wild as before, there’s still a kind of mature masculine charm!"
"Ah, what’s going on, why is each performance today completely different..."
As Bai Junze’s cello nears its end,
The four-person ensemble is about to comnce.
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