146. The Philosophy of Realization and Concealment: Seeing Through Destiny

If one were to describe the thought process differently, it could be called the presentation of a performance path.

Farewell is a multi-movement sonata, with each movement possessing a distinct tempo, timbre, and emotional coloring.

Navigating through layers of mist to plant navigational markers deep within the intricate architecture of music is both technical and physically demanding.

It requires perceptual understanding just as much as it demands rational safeguards.

Perception varies from person to person; some lean toward interpretation through external musical contexts, while others lean toward interpretation through the relationships between notes on the score.

Even with the integration of the original owner's partial understanding of the music, Li An firmly stood with the latter.

The score surpassed everything.

This had been the central guiding ideology of his recent practice of Farewell.

Passages marked with dynamics on the score were brought to life through timbral shifts of varying volumes, using finger technique during the transitions between forte and piano to articulate the theatricality of the music more vividly—which he understood to be the composer's emotional outpouring during creation.

Under the dim, warm light of the living room, Wei Sanwan sat leaning against the old sofa beside the piano, his steady gaze piercing through his reading glasses, fixed on the hands moving back and forth across the keyboard.

Holding a teacup in one hand while resting the other on the sofa arm, his wrinkled fingers occasionally tapped in time to the rhythm bouncing through the air.

It was evident that from the first movement to the second, Li An's execution was clear.

Every motivic statement had a definite treatment before and after.

Yet, regretfully, as the second movement drew to a close, he could no longer clearly recall how Li An had handled the opening portion of this movement, let alone the first.

It was played truly well, yet it left him with no memorable hooks.

So thought Wei Sanwan inwardly.

As the fingers on the piano keys seemed to lose their sustaining strength amidst a ritardando, the notes plummeted downwards, one dotted note after another.

Until not a shred of sound remained within the piano case.

He heard it; even until the very last moment, Li An was controlling the striking force of his fingers.

Technically, the execution was executed with exquisite precision.

But what about the emotion?

-

Li An let out a soft exhale, pulling back his arms and hands to conclude the performance.

He felt that this rendition had gone rather well.

"Teacher."

He turned his head to look sideways.

A moment later, just as he had praised Moonlight the previous time, Wei Sanwan expressed his true listening impression without reservation: "Too flat."

The atmosphere fell still in an instant.

Li An frowned slightly. Flat?

He did not question Wei Sanwan's critique; it was merely an instinctive reaction as a performer.

At least to his own ears, it hadn't been flat at all.

Especially the thematic recurrence following the end of the second theme in the first movement—he felt that particular treatment he had just executed was exceptionally on point.

Following a humble consultation, Li An came to understand the "flatness" pointed out by Wei Sanwan.

Emotion.

The music failed to convey an emotionally impactful impression.

Seeing Li An's lingering expression of confusion, Wei Sanwan prompted, "Feeling immersed yourself is entirely different from others hearing your immersion."

Li An was startled, vaguely catching a spark of inspiration from those words.

"Go back and ponder this carefully. Think about it from every angle: think like the composer, think like the audience, but in the end, you must return to your own thoughts."

Wei Sanwan offered a final admonition: "You must think more when practicing the piano. I told you that in your very first lesson."

After a moment of contemplation, Li An murmured, "Thank you, Teacher, I understand."

Wei Sanwan smiled. "Alright, don't just sit there, come over and have some water."

For the remainder of the time, Li An chatted with the elderly couple, telling them about his National Day holiday.

When mentioning Yiale's practice of selling pianos to guarantee passing piano exams, Wei Sanwan cursed bitterly.

Yet, curses aside, there was nothing Wei Sanwan could do about certain matters.

If he were to step forward and speak out, he still held considerable influence within the city of Rongcheng.

Yet he could not, for too many complicated issues were entangled here.

This wasn't simply about smashing someone else's rice bowl.

Were the students cultivated by the Wei Clan School who opened piano studios and became bosses necessarily entirely clean?

He was well aware of certain matters.

Wei Sanwan sighed and looked at Li An. "In education, we must keep a clear conscience."

"Some money can be earned, but some money we cannot touch."

If Li An had heard these words right after graduation, he would have raised both hands in agreement.

He agreed now as well, but with certain reservations.

-

Before leaving, Wei Sanwan brought up another matter.

"Right, Yoyo is returning home for the first time next month."

A figure flashed across Li An's mind.

Wei Sanwan pulled out a cigarette, and Li An stepped forward to light it for him.

"Have one yourself."

Li An lit one for himself as well.

"This time, her teacher from Vienna, Otto, is coming along."

Li An was delighted. Not long ago, he had watched videos online of the man's masterclass lectures at the Hamburg University of Music and Theatre.

Christopher Johannsen Otto, a piano professor at the University of Music and Performing Arts Vienna, was a highly renowned master of the German piano school.

He knew of him. Back when he and Lin Yoyo had not yet graduated, upon learning that Lin Yoyo wanted to study abroad, Wei Sanwan had recommended her directly to Otto.

"It's been many years since we last met," Wei Sanwan remarked with a sigh.

Li An remembered this episode. During his sophomore year, Wei Sanwan had gone to St. Petersburg for an academic visit and had a brief encounter with old man Otto.

Hearing that the grandmaster was coming to Rongcheng, Li An instantly felt a stir of excitement.

Wei Sanwan chuckled. "Customarily, international students from our school hold a homecoming recital upon graduation."

"Yoyo is resourceful and sensible. Seizing the opportunity of her homecoming recital, she paid out of her own pocket to invite old man Otto over as well. She told me on the phone that she wanted old man Otto to host a masterclass for our junior schoolmates."

"That's a wonderful thing."

Li An nodded along. It truly was wonderful; little Lin had been very thoughtful.

"So I figured, since the man has already agreed to come, visiting one school is just as easy as visiting three. I helped coordinate with several schools around Rongcheng. By having old man Otto give a few lectures and hold recitals at various places, his round-trip airfare, board and lodging, and appearance fees will be covered, which means Yoyo won't have to foot the bill entirely out of her own pocket."

It was killing two birds with one stone, and the teacher had been equally thoughtful.

Wei Sanwan stubbed out his cigarette. "Li An, make sure you spend this month thoroughly preparing those competition pieces."

Li An understood. "Understood."

Wei Sanwan added, "When the time comes, I'll have Otto listen to them carefully and give you some pointers."

"Thank you, Teacher."

"Alright, off you go."

"Goodbye, Teacher."

Sometimes, being a teacher meant this: between Lin Yoyo and Li An, Yoyo was undoubtedly the harder working and more sensible of the two.

Yet throughout the four years of undergraduate studies, Wei Sanwan had always favored Li An.

The moment Lin Yoyo called to tell him about Otto's visit, his very first thought had been of Li An.

He wanted Otto to give Li An some proper guidance.

There were certain things he himself was no longer able to teach.

-

Stepping out of Wei Sanwan's home, Li An let out a long breath.

He was somewhat excited, eagerly awaiting the arrival of November.

While anticipating Otto's masterclass, he had not forgotten the emotional issue Wei Sanwan had highlighted tonight.

That problem alone was enough for him to digest for quite some time.

-

'Feeling immersed yourself is entirely different from others hearing your immersion.'

-

Chen Xuan was practicing video editing at her computer when she heard the door open. Before she could even stand up, she saw Li An kick off his shoes in a flurry and dash straight to the piano.

"Master Chen, listen to this for me, and tell me what you hear when you're done."

Without asking any questions, Chen Xuan put down her work and pricked up her ears attentively.

Li An adjusted his breathing, hovered his hands over the keys, and began to play.

Farewell, Second Movement: Andante espressivo.

Li An replicated the exact version he had played at Wei Sanwan's place forty minutes earlier.

As soon as he finished, he turned to look at Chen Xuan with eager anticipation.

"Well, how should I put it?"

Chen Xuan pondered for a moment before saying, "It's quite good."

Li An smiled. "Speak your mind freely."

During the National Day holiday, Chen Xuan had heard Li An play parts of the second movement a few times, though those had all been practice snippets.

This was the first time recently that she had heard him perform the entire movement in such a formal manner.

"Let me gather my thoughts."

Chen Xuan cleared her mind.

Although she didn't play the piano, as a flute major graduate from the National Conservatory of Music, she had practiced a vast number of large-scale sonatas.

In terms of completion, she felt Li An's performance was virtually flawless.

Therefore, she preferred to discuss it from the standpoint of musical expressiveness.

Frankly speaking, as she listened, Chen Xuan had not found herself carried along by Li An's musical train of thought.

"Is it because the music failed to grab you?" Li An asked.

Chen Xuan shook her head. "I like to follow wherever the music I hear leads me."

Li An: "Uh-huh."

"It's like this."

Chen Xuan felt she had organized her thoughts. "To answer your question first, I felt a heavy, oppressive sense throughout this movement, especially in the handling of those dotted notes right at the very end—it was beautiful, but deeply oppressive."

Li An: "Go on."

Chen Xuan: "Then, speaking in terms of the title, absence, right? If I were to think about it, I'd imagine absence as a lingering, gentle sorrow, or a sense of nostalgia, and then immerse myself in that."

"Hand me the score."

Li An handed over the sheet music.

Chen Xuan flipped quickly to the second movement, her gaze settling on measures twelve and thirteen.

"I remember this melody in the right hand very clearly. You added a slight tenuto feel to the start of every group of notes—it was right from that spot onwards that I began to feel that oppressive emotion inside the music."

"During my sophomore year, I attended a masterclass by a French performer, and one sentence has stayed with me ever since."

"He said that the emotional content of music is largely contained within the notes, intervals, rhythms, and harmonies."

A brilliant point; Li An felt enlightened.

Chen Xuan returned to her own perspective: "So, were you trying to convey a sense of oppression through a specific treatment? Only you know that for sure; I'm simply sharing my personal listening impression."

"Hmm—"

"That's all."

With that, Chen Xuan retrieved a pre-chilled cola from the new refrigerator and handed it to Li An.

"Experience our refrigerator."

Li An took it, unscrewed the cap, and tilted his head back for a large gulp. "What about the emotion, then?"

He put the cola down and asked further, "Listening to the whole movement, do you think it felt flat or not?"

"Not flat at all!"

Chen Xuan looked surprised by his question. "In fact, I thought you played it much too full."

Wait.

Li An abruptly raised his hand, causing Chen Xuan to instinctively pull back the cola she had just picked up as if startled.

Too full...

Too flat...

The emotional content of music is largely contained within the notes, intervals, rhythms, and harmonies...

When practicing the piano, one must think from all angles...

All sorts of data streams seemed to converge in his brainstorming session at that exact moment. Suddenly, like a tiny flash of lightning piercing the space between his brows, Li An's mind cleared entirely in an instant.

He sprang to his feet in euphoria, grabbed Chen Xuan's face, and planted a resounding kiss on her cheek.

"I'm going to take a shower!"

Watching the chunnibyou-style Li An charge into the bathroom, Chen Xuan touched the spot on her face where she had been kissed.

A thought drifted through her mind: every man carries a little boy inside his heart.

Only, why was her boy so goofy?

Yet this kind of contrast seemed rather cute, too.

She chuckled inwardly.

"Girlfriend, my phone, it's in my coat pocket."

Li An's shout drifted out from the bathroom.

Chen Xuan stood up, picked up the coat from the piano, and pulled out the phone. There were two unread messages from twenty minutes ago on the screen.

She walked over to the bathroom door and slid the phone through the crack.

She accidentally caught a glimpse of an octave scale in the process.

Turning around, two pairs of crooked shoes in the entryway caught her eye, and she took two steps over to tidy them onto the shoe rack.

Then she returned to the computer and resumed her work.

Li An had mentioned the day before wanting to record a duet video to post on Bilibili, and she was figuring out how to make the video fun while keeping both of them on camera without showing their faces.

-

Inside the bathroom.

Li An played a recording of Auntie's performance of Farewell II, set it on single-track repeat, and placed his phone on the soap dish.

Standing under the shower stream—which would never cause him a urinary tract infection again—he reviewed his takeaways from today.

Wei Sanwan calling it flat, and Chen Xuan calling it too full.

In truth, both were expressing the exact same sentiment: his structural design and layout for the entire movement were flawed.

Because he cared too much about executing every single note, the entire performance remained stuck in a perpetual state of "crescendo/tension."

He had over-decorated.

Musical emotion is contained within every note, interval, harmony, and rhythm. It seemed like that was what he had been doing before.

Yet in reality, he had merely analyzed these musical elements in isolation, failing to analyze the whole.

Just like the performer he was listening to right now: what should come first, what should be discarded, where things should be faded, and where they should be highlighted—the other party was expressing things with crystal-clear hierarchy, ultimately delivering a unified whole to the listener's ears.

Bravo!

An enormous amount of subtraction had been performed within it.

A piece of work is like a glass of water; its capacity is limited. How to blend the ideal drink in your mind within that limited capacity—

This was Li An's biggest takeaway today.

He had grasped the concept of give-and-take in musical expression.

He wasn't even talking about emotional expression yet—that being the flavor of the drink.

Setting aside his previous disdainful attitude toward everything outside the notes themselves, Li An re-evaluated Wei Sanwan's words—

Think about music from every possible angle.

This would be his upcoming practice direction.

Once he thoroughly figured out this problem, perhaps the specific flavor he desired would naturally emerge.

He imagined that when that time came, whenever he played works like The Spinner, Black Keys, Moonlight, or Liszt's Heroic Étude, his music would likely transition toward something concrete and vivid.

Ah.

What could possibly be more thrilling and anticipated than that?

Therefore, Teacher Chen simply had to be properly rewarded tonight.

-

Whether it was a reward or a punishment, how the reward was given and how the punishment was administered—once the bedroom door was closed, who could possibly know?

Bawan?

Even Bawan wouldn't dare anymore.

Ever since Bawan had mustered the courage to jump onto the bed to join the fun the day before yesterday and ended up getting sat on squarely, for the past two days, the moment it heard the bedboards creaking, it would immediately bolt outside the bedroom.

That battlefield was far too savage, geez.

In short, regarding that whole affair, if one had to elaborate slightly, it would have to be about Mi Mi's somewhat special physical constitution.

That led directly to a certain scene from a couple of nights ago.

Having his mind utterly blank at the time, Mi Mi had asked Teacher Li a question.

After hearing it, Teacher Li could only feel a sharp ache in his kidneys.

As for what the question was, everyone can just use their imagination.

Anyway, after today's arduous mountain-climbing expedition, both of Chen Xuan's legs were sweating under the covers.

Since knowing Chen Xuan to this day, this was the first time Li An learned she even had such things in her wardrobe.

"Never saw you wear that in the summer?"

"First time wearing it."

"When did you buy it?"

"The day before yesterday when I went shopping with Xiao Yu. She said it's low input and high return."

Hiss.

"Teacher Xiao Yu has some genuine philosophy in her."

"What do you mean? So is she right—"

"Ah!"

As Chen Xuan was bending her knees to free her left leg, before she could finish her question, the world suddenly spun before her eyes, and the next second she opened them, she was already being swept up bridal-style into Li An's arms.

"What are you doing?!"

"Taking another shower. Besides, no one's words are right except yours."

"Then will you be casting wandering glances at other people on the street in the future?"

"I didn't!"

"You did!"

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Then you saw wrong."

"...Teacher... Where is your face?"

"You're not allowed to call me teacher."

Li An let out a huff of mock fierceness, nudging the bedroom door open with his thigh, scaring the eavesdropping Bawan outside into a violent shudder.

Then he strode dashingly toward the bathroom.

Bawan watched the scene with wide eyes, as if agonizing memories of the past resurfaced in its mind.

It knew.

The new master could not escape the exact same fate it had suffered.

——

"Mi Mi, a German-Austrian piano master is coming to Rongcheng next month."