musicians of old

Chapter 606 Forgetting

On the dark mountain paths or roads, Andre would walk when he was tired, and would walk and run at the same time when he had rested enough.

"Huhu."

Sweating and panting, he was imagining all the way what kind of "lake view villa" he would see next.

Phew, according to common sense, there should be a decent house by the lake. The appearance and basic specifications seem to be consistent with the previous statements. After all, it is too difficult to "create something out of nothing" and go through a full set of fake procedures.

  The trick may be the "piano asset worth 400 pounds", which is the variable used to make people make irrational choices. The victim bought this not-so-practical country property at a price far higher than the market value out of greed for bargains.

But if the scammer is more ruthless, there may not even be a shell left at the scene, or just a shell.

While leaning against a roadside rock and gasping for breath, Andre's mind repeatedly imagined the deserted, overgrown, and dilapidated scene by the lake. He lamented the fate of having his arm broken before his investment journey even began.

Fortunately, he was very familiar with the area around Mertraun after more than a year since he returned home. As he traveled quickly along the way, the time he spent was shortened a lot.

At nine o'clock in the evening, he passed through the northwest gate of the arc-shaped town and walked towards the fields adjacent to the lake.

It is very quiet here, with only one or two faint insect chirping occasionally.

The lights of the town behind me were getting farther and farther away.

Andre was sweating profusely from the heat, and he felt his anxiety growing gradually.

But at some point, he suddenly saw lights ahead.

  There seemed to be flashlights, car lights, searchlights, and the vague outline of a small house.

And the large crowd of people gathered around?

"What happened?"

"Isn't it late now?"

"Sorry, sorry"

He asked as he struggled to push his way through the crowd.

No one responded, but he still managed to hear a lot of the noisy and detailed conversations among these people.

"real or fake?"

"The young composer who came to the lake from the big city for vacation a few years ago turned out to be Carolyn Van Nin, the former music director of the old symphony orchestra?"

"The one who left a waltz melody?"

"Weren't you hanging around here all the time? Why didn't you know about it?"

"Don't blame me. He never said his name."

Several country musicians looked at each other.

"Yes, our family invited him to a banquet and gave him lessons. My two little daughters."

The man, who looked like a country gentleman, had a nostalgic look on his face.

"I've given him fruit four or five times, a big basket of apricots and peaches!"

Country women have very loud voices.

  Lake vacation? .Caroline Van Nin! ? .

Amid the whispers, Andre squeezed forward desperately. Perhaps it was because of the long run that the sweat and heat on his body were too heavy, and many people subconsciously made way for him.

After squeezing to the front row, he saw two high-end off-road vehicles parked at the door of the cabin. Several gentlemen and ladies in suits, who looked like they were from big cities, were talking with municipal officials from the local town.

"You mean, Mr. Fanning didn't transfer it when he left here?"

"It seems that this is indeed not the case. He left quietly, and many of our residents and musician friends felt sorry at the time. Although we didn't know his identity, we got along very well. There is no doubt that he was already a talented young man at that time."

"Then, has the ownership of this hut changed since then? Who does it belong to now? If we want to go in and take a look, who should we contact?"

"I'm afraid I'll have to check it out tomorrow." The town official was in a dilemma. "The professors have come all the way here, why don't they go back to town and rest first?"

  Andre realized something, and he suddenly shouted:

"it's me!"

“I bought it not long ago!”

Isn't my investment plan this time... He seemed to have touched a special meaning in his mind, but he didn't have time to penetrate that layer completely.

The crowd fell silent instantly. Under everyone's watchful eyes, he walked out with unsteady steps, his arms trembling slightly, and held up two certificates stamped with the notary office's seal under the light.

"The previous owner, Mendeleev?"

The middle-aged man in the lead came closer, frowned, then turned his head and laughed at the people walking with him.

"It's really him. This name is still in use now." "If I remember correctly, this was the party code name I used when I first joined the Guidance School."

"The transaction price is 200 pounds, Andre, right? Young man, you have a unique vision. Do you like this place and want to move here to settle down?"

The others also spoke in a gentle and kind tone.

"I," Andre said in a trance as if in a dream, "I, I am here for investment purposes, Turner Cinema, I want to build a small art gallery in the countryside. No, may I ask, why are you gentlemen here?"

"Haha, that's a coincidence."

"Build a cinema here? Good idea, good idea." Several other people were still discussing and commenting.

What a coincidence? Andre's mouth opened wide.

"Let me introduce myself. I'm Schütz, president of the Bologna School's branch at St. Lenya University and dean of the Conservatory of Music."

The middle-aged gentleman in the lead handed over a business card.

"We recently learned from an inconspicuous interview record manuscript in the school archives that the Symphony No. 913 in D major performed by our outstanding alumnus, the great composer and conductor Carloen van Nin at the graduation concert in was actually written in this 'composition hut' by the Möttraun Lake. What a quiet and beautiful mountain scenery."

"."When Andre heard this, his expression was completely dull.

"So, since we have new findings and new links, our 'school history compilation team' has dispatched people here overnight to prepare to investigate Mr. Fanning's experience during the month he spent here!"

"Carlon, why did you suddenly decide to help him?"

In the early morning of April 4, on the first-class carriage of the train returning to Uvransell, Hiram, who was sitting opposite me, was holding a table knife and carefully cutting the long vanilla cream cake roll on the porcelain plate into small pieces.

“Not a help.”

"I just want to get rid of the past that I can't go back to."

Fanning supported his chin with one hand and looked at the scenery outside the window that was rapidly receding.

"Okay." Xilan took a sip of the milk in the paper cup. "But in terms of the result, it did change the fate of a young man passing by, didn't it?"

Even though his talent was not up to the requirements and he could not make a living by playing or composing music, in some ways, his reversal of fate was greater than that of the young children who received artistic help.

  For a young man trying to invest in an art gallery in the countryside, what does it mean to get an asset of the "master's former residence" level for 200 pounds?

"Well, maybe I think he is more similar to me." Fanning no longer denied it, nodded, sat in front of the table, and picked up the shepherd's pie on the plate.

  What will an ordinary person who loves art but does nothing get in the end?

The more I think about it, the more interesting it becomes, and the more I think about it, the more it haunts me.

"With you?" Sheeran asked in amazement, "How can they be compared! Your profound knowledge, amazing talent, endless inspiration and imagination are like a gift from God. Even if you put aside all your creations, you are still a great conductor and performer. Even if you put them aside again, you are still an outstanding musicologist and music educator."

"I was talking about the past." Fanning bit off the most tender beef and mushroom-filled corner of the pie.

"Before? You mean in middle school or childhood? That doesn't seem right. I'm full."

Sheeran folded the tissue he used to wipe his mouth, then pushed several exquisite small porcelain plates towards Fanning.

"So fast, eat a few more bites."

"I have a small stomach, it's all yours."

A few minutes later, Fanning sat back in his seat and opened the notebook Sheeran was using for work.

"It seems that after returning, the pace will not be so leisurely. It's just like the working state when I wrote 'Resurrection'. There are still a lot of relationships to coordinate, as well as foreseeable disputes with the authorities. The 7-year Harvest Art Festival, the periodic abnormal ebb tide, the X coordinate, and Qiong guarding the southern projection of the B-105 area."

Originally, it was purely a work plan thinking, but as time went on, Fanning's thoughts fell into the source of confusion again.

"It's OK. It's been a year full of expectations." Shiran, who had relieved most of the pressure these days, stretched lazily with a sense of security. "When I set out for this trip to Motlawn, I was looking forward to it. Now I'm still looking forward to what will happen after I return, starting with the comeback concert tonight. What's wrong with you? What's that expression?"

She suddenly noticed that Fanning was thinking deeply, with his brows furrowed deeply.

"Shiran, we seem to have forgotten one thing."

"what?"

"Our original intention seemed to be to investigate your former residence in Iggs, right? The tour around the lake, the composing cabin, and the re-creation of the field trip route were just plans along the way, right?"

With a whoosh, darkness fell and the train entered a long tunnel. The sharp airflow made the windows shake.

"Why didn't we just head back after taking a quick tour of Murtraun?"