131. Liszt and Teacher’s Day, a Challenge Arrives?

Before the piano, Li An settled himself into a state of meditation as his hands descended. His entire being felt like an ancient bell positioned before the instrument. Letting the bell-like chords ripple through the air, his mind was occupied solely by the descending scales he was about to play.

Liang Huilan, while ushering in several children who had come to visit, whispered, "Keep it quiet, your senior fellow student is playing the piano in the inner room."

The moment the door opened, they had already heard the music. Setting down their things gently, they followed Liang Huilan, their faces filled with intense curiosity, and tiptoed into the living room one after another.

At that moment, they saw the tall silhouette before the piano shift its right arm, the hand then gliding nimbly from the high register of the keyboard toward the left. Due to their vantage point, they could not see how his right hand, hidden behind his frame, continued its movement. Only the cold, sharp sound of ice cracking against a wall reminded them that this was perhaps how Liszt’s Transcendental Études were truly meant to be played.

Surprise, admiration, envy, and reverence—a mixture of emotions swirled in the hearts of the young students.

As the "Grand Demon King" of the 19th-century Romantic era—a figure who embodied the roles of composer, pianist, and music critic—Franz Liszt certainly deserved the special reverence of those who followed. A certain whimsical author once described Liszt and his Transcendental Études in a book as follows:

This is by no means an aside. Open any history of Western music, and one is immediately drawn to the two rising stars of the Romantic period. Chopin and Liszt. They shine as brightly as two golden strings dropped from God’s harp into the mortal world. Yet, they would never appear in the same measure. If Chopin carried with him restraint and subtlety, then fervor and conflict were surely the deepest monologues of Liszt’s soul.

Even in his youth, Liszt had already interpreted why a genius is called a genius through his piano performances, but this did not overshadow his even more astonishing talent for composition. In that era of shimmering stars, fourteen-year-old Liszt wrote the core melodies of the twelve Transcendental Études. And at the peak of his career as a pianist, this world-renowned set of twelve works emerged like a monster, defined by a fierce subjectivity that defied excessive objectivity.

When it comes to Liszt’s music, people seem fond of using a deliberate, grandiloquent literary style to describe it, to highlight the boldness, the "heavens," the "my god," and such emotions within the music. This is understandable. One only needs to open any music player and search for Liszt’s *Wild Hunt*, the Sonata in B Minor, the Second Piano Concerto, or *Mazeppa* to understand how this divine figure used musical notes to rule the auditory nerves of mankind.

Liszt’s Transcendental Études are undoubtedly the touchstone of piano technique. Countless young performers gird their loins, attempting to prove their talent by challenging this set of études, which only further underscores the stature of these works in the piano world.

The seventh piece, which Li An was playing, does not rank very high in difficulty among the twelve. It lacks the extreme technical demands of the "Feux follets" (Will-o'-the-wisps) or the majestic power of "Mazeppa." However, the octave technique required extensively throughout the piece remains a stumbling block for most who wish to try their hand at it. Performing Liszt’s works requires a corresponding mastery of technique. Just like this piece, titled "Eroica," one cannot play it without a firm grasp of octaves.

More troublesome is that not all octave passages in this work produce the same acoustic effect. The nuance within those differences is where the essence lies. The opening octaves played by Li An were firm and full, clearly expressing the majestic image of the music, causing the children to gasp: "Wow, this is Liszt."

In Wei Sanwan’s opinion, the real technical substance of the piece should only begin at the eighth measure. Under his watchful gaze, he observed that starting from the eighth measure, Li An’s octave playing took on an upward trend, layering and advancing, gradually pushing the music forward. Hearing this, a look of extreme satisfaction appeared on Wei Sanwan’s face. The emotional grasp was excellent.

By the 31st measure, there was a passage of the same notes played in different registers. Li An played octaves in the high register with his right hand while playing single notes in the adjacent octave with his left, forming three-octave chords. The staccato or jumping progression made the notes themselves become more vibrant under his hands.

A Transcendental Étude is like a complex system; it is impossible for only one type of technique to exist within it. The progressive piano sound followed Li An’s ten fingers to the 74th measure. The appearance of arpeggios meant that the piano’s sound effect would head toward a richer environment. At this moment, a subtle change appeared in Li An’s agile fingers, and Wei Sanwan’s expression shifted again.

Benefiting from the large amount of Czerny practice in this section, the music was almost entirely free of flaws in continuity. Li An’s arms and wrists were integrated, and his fingers easily executed the key-clinging technique. Each time he touched a key, he withdrew immediately, without the slightest hesitation. Amidst the gradually accelerating tempo, he completed the entire piece in one go.

"Clang—"

With a firm, solid final chord, Li An pulled his hands away. He sensed that the temperature in the living room had risen considerably compared to five minutes ago.

Wei Sanwan nodded in praise: "Good!"

He then turned to the several sophomores and introduced Li An. "This is your senior fellow student from the 2014 class, Li An."

Some had never heard of him; others were hearing the name for the first time. With so many fellow disciples under the same mentor, who could remember everyone, especially someone they had never met?

However, they all remembered him this time—a senior fellow student who possessed both technical skill and good looks.

"Hello, Senior Brother." The sharp-witted students were the first to greet Li An. They could see the teacher was grinning with genuine joy. For most of these students who had followed Wei Sanwan since before the arts entrance exams, seeing the teacher smile was as rare as passing a difficult exam.

"Hello, Senior Brother."

"Hello, Senior Brother." The junior sisters also shed their reserve, each one sweet and adorable.

"Don't be so formal, we're all family." Li An nodded politely to everyone and stepped aside to sit down. He knew the time ahead no longer belonged to him.

Waves of undergraduates arrived with holiday gifts and then departed. Among them were the truly successful senior disciples who had already started families; they came, left their gifts, and sat to chat with Wei Sanwan. Time quickly slipped into the afternoon.

Zheng Haitao and the others had already reserved a table at the Fulin Restaurant near the school. This was the base of operations for the "Wei Clan" gatherings. Wei Sanwan tidied up and, accompanied by his wife, Jia Mingyu, and Li An, left the house.

At the school gate, groups of three or five students waiting for taxis could be seen everywhere, most of them heading to the Teacher's Day banquet. Li An suggested calling a taxi, but Wei Sanwan said they should walk. Walking it was; it wasn't far anyway.

On the way, Wei Sanwan asked Li An if he had encountered any difficulties at work. Seeing the wine at the door when they left had reminded him of the morning’s events. He asked if something was wrong. Li An said it was nothing.

"That's good. If there's trouble, just speak up. Take those two bottles of wine back with you later."

"I won't."

Wei Sanwan had always been the one to say "no" to others; he was not used to anyone saying "no" to him. But hearing Li An’s refusal, he could only puff out his mustache. *Sigh, the child is so thoughtful.*

The conversation shifted. "Have you considered pursuing further studies?"

The question was not without reason. After hearing Li An’s performance of the *Eroica* étude, he knew that Li An had put in a lot of effort during the three years since leaving school. Moreover, the effort was directed correctly, hitting the right points, and the results were significant. Li An’s previous problem was that his playing was too soft and lacked shape. Based on what he heard today, that problem had been greatly improved, and he seemed to have developed a personal style.

This was talent, fueled by the sweat behind it. What was even rarer was Li An’s dedication. Since he had the heart to improve, why not take it a step further? He hadn't heard Li An’s current level during the morning meal, but now, compared to his previous state, he hoped the young man would focus more energy on his profession. Objectively, he believed Li An’s current level already exceeded that of an average master’s graduate in piano performance from a music conservatory. He wasn't sure about his repertoire volume, but his technique had essentially reached the ranks of the excellent master’s graduates from the top three conservatories.

As his teacher, he naturally hoped Li An could advance further in his piano career.

"Have you discussed this with your family?"

Li An smiled. "Let's leave it for now. I'll work for two years to save some money. My father will be retiring in a few years anyway."

Wei Sanwan sighed internally. At Li An’s age, he shouldn't be facing such family burdens, but the economic situation dictated otherwise. Honestly, he couldn't offer much more guidance on technique; otherwise, he would have helped him improve even more. He paused.

"You should also participate in the year-end Xinghai Piano Competition."

Li An was stunned.

He then heard Wei Sanwan continue, "Go and test yourself, and broaden your horizons."

Participating in competitions is training, promotion, learning, and exchange. The "Xinghai Cup" National Piano Competition, hosted by the China Conservatory of Music, the National Centre for the Performing Arts, and the Beijing Xinghai Piano Group, was first held in 1985. It has taken place every two years for over thirty years, with over 100,000 participants. It is currently the domestic piano competition with the longest history, highest authority, and widest influence. Countless young performers have emerged from the Xinghai Piano Competition. Given Li An’s current situation, Wei Sanwan felt this might be an opportunity.

This time, the suggestion was not only spoken with intent but also received with intent.

At the evening banquet, Li An gave Wei Sanwan another surprise. Li An, who had never drunk alcohol before, was now mixing spirits and beer. After round upon round, most people could no longer hold their liquor—some eager undergraduates had already vomited several times—but Li An remained seemingly unaffected.

Glass after glass, he accompanied Wei Sanwan, who laughed heartily. It just goes to show how society tempers a person. Wei Sanwan felt that this student of his, after three years of polishing in the real world, had truly become a completely different person.

Good.

Taking advantage of the banquet and his tolerance for alcohol, Li An toasted his senior fellow students, and he did not refuse a single toast from the junior students who came to him. In the back and forth, he could be considered to have truly returned to the fold. As for the purpose of his trip today, he had achieved it far beyond expectations.

Who isn't uncomfortable after drinking too much? Who says those who don't flush red after drinking aren't suffering? Everyone has to throw up. Feeling he was reaching his limit, Li An went to the bathroom and voluntarily stuck his fingers down his throat.

*Yue!*

*Whoosh—*

*Yue!*

*Whoosh—*

Five minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, wiping his eyes, only to run into his eldest senior brother, who was swaying and being supported by two junior students. Even a man whose child was already in middle school couldn't escape the pressure of drinking in front of his teacher.

Li An returned to the table and took out his phone to reply to a few messages. Nine parents, including Che Lin’s father, had sent him Teacher’s Day greetings today. The most thoughtful were Xiao Bei and Ji Yang.

Xiao Bei had sent a short video. In the video, she stood straight as a board beside the piano, wearing a pink dress, and spoke a segment of thanks obediently. Her final sentence, "Happy Teacher's Day, Teacher Li," was enough to melt anyone's heart. She was indeed the teacher’s most thoughtful little "cotton-padded jacket," though she had gotten a bit tan from summer camp.

Although Ji Yang didn't send a video, a 500-word essay clearly showed she had put her heart into it. The language was beautiful and rich in emotion, reading like the story of a lost girl finding her way back to the piano. As for the final "Love you, love you, love you"... well, despite that, Li An could still see the overwhelming gratitude beneath it. Ji Yang truly viewed him as an elder or a big brother.

That was fine. After all, she was his biggest benefactor at the moment.

After replying to the messages one by one, Li An filmed a short video and sent it to Chen Xuan.

"80001: I'm almost done here. Are you home?"

The other side replied in seconds: "Just about to message you. I'm home. Did you drink a lot?"

"80001: It's alright. The teacher is quite happy, at least."

"Xiaomi: Got it. Then keep going, don't worry about me. I'll keep my mom company and chat while we have some melon seeds."

A moment later.

"Xiaomi: Waiting for you."

Chen Xuan put down her phone, the smile in her eyes not yet faded, when she heard her mother’s gentle voice beside her:

"Xiao Xuan, are you really not going to consider your father’s suggestion?"

Chen Xuan frowned. Today, she had listened to nagging all day since returning to her grandmother’s house. Even relatives she hadn't seen in years had come to persuade her, saying that having traveled around was enough and that she should settle down now and stop making trouble. Out of respect for her parents, she hadn't said anything, letting others talk while she let it go in one ear and out the other. But on the way back today, her father had spoken up, trying to persuade her again. Although his tone and attitude weren't as forceful as they had been six months ago, it still left her with a very bad feeling.

Yesterday, she had talked a lot about her life in Rongcheng, and her parents had even praised her for being mature and grown-up. The three of them had enjoyed a harmonious meal as if they had decided to let her follow her own path. Then, today, they changed their tune, hoping she would stay in Yanshi and not leave again. Although she knew her parents couldn't bear to have her away, the decision she made before leaving home had not changed. In fact, her mindset was even more resolute now.

So, "Mom, please don't try to persuade me anymore. I came back this time for two reasons: to see you, and to tell you that I’m living very well there. My daily life now is very happy and fulfilling."

Song Lian smiled. "Don't you want your father and mother anymore?"

Chen Xuan grew anxious. "That’s not what I meant, I..."

After saying "I" three times, Chen Xuan couldn't continue. She absolutely did not mean that, but she didn't know how to express it. Her current attitude did indeed suggest she had no intention of returning to Yanshi, while her entire family was here.

Just as her heart was in turmoil, her mother’s next sentence pierced her heart.

"Xiao Xuan, are you in love?"