...
One after another, the people around him started to jeer, and the person on stage no longer had the courage to make a move. He turned around and ran away without looking back.
As the second person went up, Sehir followed to the judges' table, trying his best to appear polite.
"Hello, I'm here to register."
Sehir's voice was very soft, like a feather gliding across a frozen lake, making you unconsciously want to listen to what the person in front of you had to say.
"Here's your number. Go line up over there."
The judges pulled out a card from the side and handed it to Sehir.
"Thank you," Sehir said with a smile.
This piano event was specially organized by a nobleman. They just wanted to bet on how many commoners could play musical instruments. On a sudden whim, they had this event staged on the main street.
These nobles are just always looking for things to do when they're bored.
Sehir sighed as he looked at the nobles holding a tea party overhead, then joined the last person in line and waited for the people in front of him to finish.
——
"Who do you think is the best?" asked the well-dressed person above, holding a teacup.
"Isn't it too early to draw conclusions now?"
"I think your idea is too naive. How many meetings can there be here?"
The person holding the teacup took a sip of tea, then smiled and said, "It's just a way to pass the time, no need to make such a fuss. As those in positions of authority, we should just enjoy ourselves."
Upon hearing this, everyone around him seemed to agree, and their smiles deepened.
The judges sat below, propping their heads up, discussing what to eat for lunch, and occasionally glancing at the music if they heard a note or two.
But for that gold coin, even those who didn't know how to play grit their teeth and go for it. Their dry and clumsy fingers tapped on the piano keys, stimulating people's ears like a death knell.
Those around looked at the gold coin placed high up and couldn't help but sigh; it seemed they were destined to never have a gold coin.
Completely bewildered, Sesil was pushed forward by the person standing in front of him, who looked at Sesil with an awkward smirk.
"I'm not participating, you go ahead."
Before Sesil could react, the person in front of him grabbed Sesil's arm, pulled him in front of him, and said with a smile, "You go first, you go first, let me check the situation again."
And just like that, Sehir was pushed to the front, and the bag in his hand was almost pushed out of his hand.
"Next."
Immediately afterward, the judge called out. The whole process was so fast that even Sehir didn't have time to react. Sehir stood there, stunned, staring at the judge in front of him.
"Go! What are you standing there for?"
It was only then that Sehir realized what was happening. He shuffled over to the piano and, upon closer inspection, realized it was just a third-rate instrument. So Sehir simply placed the bag he was carrying on top of the piano.
The piano had been used many times, and even some of the tones were out of tune. Before Sesil could decide what piece to play, he was pushed to the front to avoid those keys.
"Go on, what are you standing there for? If you can't do it, get down now!"
The people around him had already started to jeer, but Sesil seemed not to hear them. This isolated environment seemed to be made just for him.
Sehir moved the stool forward a bit. Although the conditions at Bluesealed Piano were much worse, at least there was money to be made, right?
Sehir raised his hand and slowly pressed a key. His long, slender, fair fingers had never done any rough work. They pressed the keys gently, as if they had been carefully polished with warm water.
Flowing notes flowed from his hands, like roses on strings, sharp yet gentle, intricately interwoven.
Sehir seemed born to sing from the piano; each note seemed to tell its own story, dreamlike and illusory, both real and unreal.
It's as if God is lamenting his grief and begging for salvation.
The bullets, like burning rose petals, fired in hell, illuminating the abyss with countless fireworks.
Cecil only played half of the piece because half was enough. He wasn't a performer; he was just doing what he was supposed to do.
—
"I'm done."
Sesil had already walked up to the judges with the bag. The judges were slightly taken aback, looked Sesil up and down, and only after a long while did they open their mouths and say, "Next."
No one went up again. Those who had been behind Sehir in line were nowhere to be seen. Sehir breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the judges.
"Can I get that gold coin?"
Although gold coins meant nothing to him, he needed them now; he needed to survive.
Just as the judge was about to speak, a voice suddenly came from behind him.
"Of course, but there's one condition."
Sehir frowned slightly and turned to look at the man, a nobleman who appeared to have just come down from up there.
“That’s not written in your terms,” Sehir argued.
Those around gasped in shock. There were very few people who could reason with these nobles like this. If these nobles didn't want to give it, they simply wouldn't.
The man was amused by Cecil's words and chuckled for a long time, tears welling up in his eyes: "But I'm the organizer. I can add whatever conditions I want, understand?"
The man's voice gradually turned cold as he looked down at Cecil.
Trying not to cause any trouble, Sesil asked, "What do you need me to do to get that gold coin?"
Sehir's question was sharp; in an instant, he prioritized his own interests.
Chapter Seventy-One
The gold coins are something I absolutely must get. If I ask them what they want, they will definitely make even more unreasonable demands in the end.
That would be a huge loss.
The man raised the corners of his lips, tilted his head, and glanced at something on a shelf in the distance—a violin.
"If you successfully ring it, the gold coin is yours."
Before Cecil could speak, a sweet, coquettish voice came from behind the man again: "You're bullying him like this."
"Bullying? I'm the organizer, what I say goes, how is this bullying?"
The person behind him seemed to think for a moment, then grinned and replied, "You're right, let's do it that way then."
Those nearby gasped in shock; it was clear they didn't want to give it to them. This whole charade was obviously a prank.
As he thought about it, everyone around him shook their heads.
The violin strings on the shelf were so tight they were about to break; it was clearly not meant for playing.
Sehir looked at the violin in the distance, tried to squeeze his left hand, and then looked into the eyes of the person in front of him.
He asked, "Do you have sheet music?"
The man was taken aback by the question, then his eyebrows shot up, and an uncontrollable burst of laughter escaped his throat. After laughing for a while, he finally stopped and patted the judge sitting to the side.
"Go, go upstairs and get the sheet music."
While getting the sheet music, Sehir began to study the violins on the shelf.
The violin was the perfect size, but it was a bit difficult to press down. My hands didn't have many calluses to begin with, and red marks appeared instantly after pressing down.
There's no time to tune it now, so Cecil had no choice but to accept the bow, as that gold coin was very important to him.
The judges were quick to get the sheet music, and they came down from upstairs in just a few minutes. After all, it was their host's order, so they didn't dare to be negligent.
"This will do." The man chuckled, placed the sheet music on the violin stand, and looked at Cecil, saying, "Just one line is enough?"
The man's lips curled up slightly, he nodded, his face full of smugness, and turned to make room for Cecil.
Sehir glanced at the sheet music; the difficulty levels were almost cumulative.
Sehir exhaled, his gaze falling on the gold coins in the distance, before pulling off the scarf around his neck.
The violin was positioned perfectly between his jaw and neck, and his body's curves were taut to the extreme, making him look like a beautifully sculpted work of art standing still.
Sehir looked at the first phrase on the score, pressed down the taut string without hesitation, and before he could even react, he had completed the first phrase in a second.
Everyone froze in place. Sesil put down his violin as well, feeling the skin on his fingertips being chafed.
“Gold coins,” Cecil said, reaching out his hand and opening his mouth.
The man's smile widened, and he reached into his pocket, took out a gold coin, placed it in Cecil's hand, and said with a smile, "Would you be interested in playing for us?"
Sehir took the gold coins, stuffed them into his pocket, and asked, "Pay me?"
The man seemed to have heard a joke and opened his mouth to say, "Of course not, it's your honor to play for us!"
Sesil paused for a moment as he put on the scarf, took a step back, and bowed slightly, saying, "I'm sorry, please forgive me for not being able to go."
Before the other person could even open their mouth, he grabbed the bag and disappeared into the crowd.
Watching Cecil's retreating figure, the man brushed half of his hair back from his forehead, making the meaning in his eyes even more apparent.
He seems to be a stubborn, fallen nobleman.
-
Overnight, he was suddenly transported from the hotel to the slums deep in the streets. Cecil walked along the road, looking at the scene around him.
This place is very similar to the slums of the West Asian continent; I've been here a few times with my father.
Sehir found a secluded corner with dry straw and walls that could block the wind; it was practically a luxury residential area in the slums.
Sehir sat on the dry grass and then took out his aching and swollen left hand.
When Cecil saw the blood smeared all over his palm, he was startled, thinking it was just a minor cut.
Upon seeing it, the pain receptors on my fingertips seemed to be stimulated, and the instantaneous pain stimulated my brain.
Sesil put his finger in his mouth, a strong metallic taste filling his mouth, and the saliva made his fingertip sting even more.
Only after he could no longer taste blood did Sehir take his fingers out of his mouth; they looked a bit wrinkled.
After a busy morning, I could finally eat something. I was fine at first, but after drinking a few sips of milk, I suddenly felt dizzy and saw double images in front of me.
Something's not right!
Sehir was trying his best to stay alert, but his mind kept telling him that he was about to die.