Old-time musicians

The north of Tiolian has longer winters and shorter summers.

During these shorter times, the twilight seemed to be poured with bright dyes, with distinct tones. The high clouds were deep blue like ice, the low sunset glow burned like fire, and the afterglow of the skyline shone into Kaplun's ward through the large window, making the dull and pale sheets and furniture appear strangely copper-colored.

"Mom, why does Dad like to sleep so much recently? Is his illness not cured yet?"

In the room, a maid was boiling milk, another was folding clothes, and dolls and building blocks were scattered at the end of the bed. Olga was playing with little Irene, and her daughter's questions slowed down her fingers fiddling with the toys.

"He was too tired from work before, so he needs to rest for a longer time." Olga's eyes swept across her husband's face on the pillow in front of her, and then to her daughter's questioning eyes under her fluffy curly hair, and finally quickly returned to the toys.

"I also slept for a long time when I was too tired from playing." Little Irene expressed understanding.

"Mrs. Olga, Mr. Fanning is here to visit." The voice of the messenger came to his ears. The boy who was jogging upstairs in front of him had his chest heaving up and down, but when he stood at the door of the ward, he lowered his voice to a low and calm state.

Capron, who was half asleep and half awake, moved his legs and feet first. Olga also stood up after hearing the words, carried her daughter to the small sofa, and tidied her clothes a little.

Half a minute later, Fanning appeared at the door with a thick sheet of music in his arms.

"Mr. Fanning, good afternoon."

"This is"

Olga greeted from a distance. As Fanning approached, she saw the night-like darkness and silence on the binding cover, as well as the clusters of eye-catching lights.

The white and simple words read: "Symphony No. 2 in C Minor", "Resurrection".

"What a good blessing the title is, I suddenly realized this." She smiled.

Kaplun woke up from his coma and sat up on his own as if he had anticipated it. Fanning saw him wearing a blue and gray patient gown, with gray hair standing up like hay and a face as pale as paper, but his first reaction was to smile, and he kept repeating "good news" with his lips full of breath. His arm, which was covered with bruises and some scabs after ulceration, stretched out to him.

"Look, it was born smoothly and safely, much faster than I thought."

He took the score and looked at the cover for a long time, and slowly opened the first page with steady and calm fingers.

Then he put on his high-end black-framed glasses.

The first movement, Funeral March, has sparse notes on the first page.

Under the sudden uneasy tremolo of the string instruments, the double bass played heavy, solemn, rough and powerful fragments of the "questioning motive".

Kaplun turned the pages one by one. The notes, key signatures, and expression terms stimulated his vision in a different way. When he saw them, his mind became calm, as if he had completely bid farewell to his intermittent sleepiness, just like when he studied the score day and night.

In fact, he had already rehearsed the first four movements by heart, but he still turned the pages slowly, playing those sounds in his mind.

Kaplun turned the pages one by one, and it took about twenty minutes before he finished reading "The First Light", and at this time, there was still more than one-third of the thickness of the score left.

The fifth movement, an expanded sonata form, the double bass's "interrogative motive" brings out a wild and uncontrolled loud noise, and then the orchestra pours out an overwhelming BB minor broken chord, the trumpet and trombone blow a terrifying horn in F minor, and a scene like the apocalypse is violently opened, the wilderness shakes, the tombs crack, the dead stand in a row, and the mountains and plains join the march in a line

Kapulan turned the pages one by one, his face changed in various emotions with the music, and his eyes shot out beams from time to time. When he read the beginning of the chorus, he trembled slightly, and then held his breath completely, and the blood in his body rushed to his face. After a long time, he breathed again.

Corresponding to the various changing sounds in his heart, there was the silence of the ward and the only remaining sound of paper flipping.

Fanning stood silently aside.

"Hua La" "Hua La"

Half an hour later, Kaplun, who was leaning against the bed, finally closed the score. He twisted his waist hard, sat on the edge of the bed the next moment, put his feet in slippers, and slowly stood up.

"What are you doing!?" Olga reached out to help worriedly.

"It's okay, I want to walk around in the yard." Kaplun grabbed his wife's hand, squeezed it a little harder, and let it go to show that there was no need to worry.

"Dad, you rested well, right?" Little Irene asked.

"Overall, it's good."

Kaplun smiled nonchalantly.

"I always feel that the ward is gradually becoming old and small, which makes people uncomfortable, as if it will soon shrink to a few inches square."

Then, he slowly took a step and picked up the cane leaning against the wall.

Fanning put on the hat he took off after entering the door.

The environment of the private nursing home is good, quiet, clean, and conducive to rest.

Outside the door is a spacious courtyard with many trees planted and hibiscus flowers blooming around it.

As we walked, we saw some wild flowers and weeds growing from the base of the wall and the cracks in the corridor. It was hard to tell whether it was a sign of decay or vitality.

After Professor Fanning walked around for a short while, Kapulen, who was wearing a hospital gown and carrying a cane, spoke first, "After that, I wonder if little Irene wants to..."

"The cultural classes that should be taken are as usual." Fan Ning said, "As for the violin, I can let Miss Sheeran teach it, but I have to ask Sheeran's wishes."

"This is the most reassuring situation." Capron was overjoyed.

Fan Ning thought for a while and then added calmly:

"On weekdays, I let her often play with her brothers and sisters in the youth symphony orchestra. When she grows up, she can consider pursuing a professional career. Her talent is enough, and she can be considered learning from a young age, but the most important thing is Wait until you realize it clearly.”

“Okay okay”

When Fan Ning spoke, Kaplan kept nodding in agreement. When he heard the last sentence, he asked: "Are you clearly aware of it?"

“Be aware that you can’t live without it.”

"We must not live without her." Fan Ning repeated again using personal pronouns, "Moreover, we are not satisfied with 'being friends', but want to become 'closer lovers.' Some people realize it gradually, and some People realize it suddenly, and the time is different. Some people realize it when they are young, some people grow up, and some people are later. Of course, some people don't know how to do it. So don't force it, otherwise it will hurt each other. Well, you can't say for sure. , After all, time varies, and it’s difficult for anyone to make a conclusion until the last moment.”

"The times are indeed different." Kaplan sighed and nodded, "You are the earliest."

"Me?" Fan Ning recalled something, "It counts, but strictly speaking it doesn't count."

"Does it count or not?"

"I have known her since I was a child, and I have had an inexplicable affection for her since I was a child. It was too early at that time."

Fan Ning raised his head and was lost in thought. The remaining heat of the evening was still there. The setting sun squeezed out the light from the leaves and cut the shadow of the collapsed house. At the junction of light and dark on the stone steps, a fat short-haired blue cat lay on his stomach, facing The two reluctantly meowed.

"...But I used to be a bit stupid and thought it was good to just 'be friends'. Later I realized how much I wanted to 'become a lover' with her. It was a bit late at that time."

Kaplan nodded as usual, as if he was taking a conducting class, but he was somewhat clear about Fan Ning's musical experience, but not particularly clear about it. He couldn't confirm for the moment whether Fan Ning's statement completely corresponded to his experience.

"Has the premiere date been set?"

"The application date is July 20. We are waiting for the receipt from the cultural department. The invoice will be issued as soon as it is officially finalized." After answering this question, Fan Ning felt a little strange.

All commercial performances organized by registered bands must be reported for the purpose of statistics on activity, and it is also the first barrier to avoid mysterious risks. But as a guest of the cultural department, I usually just go as a formality and receive a telegram receipt the next day. This time it has been four or five days, and it seems that the administration department has not received the receipt yet?

"It's fast." After Kaplan said, his expression suddenly changed.

In addition to the pain that lasted almost all day, there was also a heartbreaking pain in his torso and shoulders. He bowed and quickly took out a small medicine bottle from the large pocket of his hospital clothes.

Four small green pills were poured into the palm of the hand one after another.

Olga and the maid, who were waiting more than ten meters away, pushed the empty wheelchair over like flying, took out the water glass from below and handed it over. Kaplan swallowed it gently, her face gradually eased, but she waved her hand to indicate that she would not sit down.

He placed both hands on the staff, almost resting his whole body weight on it, and continued to move slowly bit by bit.

The surge in the amount of extraordinary medicine has made Fan Ning frown.

It was only at this moment that Fan Ning completely realized that the permanent conductor of his orchestra in front of him was completely different from the "fancier" he had just met a year ago.

All flesh is like grass.

It doesn't take long for time to take away a person's life. A year is a long time, sometimes it only takes a few seconds.

He is now a true musician, but his life has completely burned to the last moment.

For example, there will no longer be zealous practice of sight-singing and ear training every night.

It is basically impossible to return to the command podium.

Fanning's throat moved, trying to repeat what they said that day on the way to visit Ms. Hamilton.

On the day of the premiere, you go.

But in the end, when faced with the situation he saw before him, what he actually said was no longer this sentence——

"On the day of the premiere, remember to come and listen."

"I will definitely come, there's no need to say that." Kaplan said immediately.

Fan Ning glanced down at his pocket watch.

"Then from the perspective of ensuring safety, you should go up and rest now. You have been walking for 15 minutes."

Kaplan's cane made shallow pits in the dirt between the stone paths.

"There is no shortage of rest time, Professor Fan Ning. I would like to ask you a few questions about the fifth movement."

Fan Ning quickly covered up the strange look in his eyes.

"You tell me."

In the next five minutes, Fan Ning answered a few questions, and the two of them walked an extra twenty meters.

Kaplan then sat back in his wheelchair and chatted with him for another 10 minutes with his eyes closed.

The last ray of light on the horizon is about to be swallowed up.

After spending a total of 30 minutes in the yard, the two said goodbye, and Olga and the maid pushed Kaplan back to the nursing building.

"Seven, fourteen, fifteen..."

Fan Ning stood there with his top hat in his right hand, watching the three people leaving, counting the number of days left until the premiere date, and thinking about whether it was near or far.

His Adam's apple kept moving.

When the outline of the wheelchair was about to disappear in the hall, he finally spoke out again:

"Remember to come and listen."

The hair on the back of the wheelchair's head stood up like dead grass, and a gesture similar to OK was raised next to it.

Fan Ning closed his eyes hard, and when he opened them again, there was only empty twilight in the hall of the nursing building.

He was still looking forward, and at the same time he reached out and groped everywhere in his clothes and pants, first the left trouser pocket, then the right trouser pocket, then the chest, then the inner pocket...

After groping for several minutes, he returned to his left trouser pocket and took out the car key, which was shaped like a small crank.

He turned around and walked out along the stone road step by step. As he was approaching the courtyard gate, he saw an elegant burgundy car parked next to his black stretch limousine.

Luo Yin wore a cream-colored corrugated silk dress with a lighter belt around her waist. She reached out and took the small handbag handed by the butler.

Another attendant loaded her cello case into the trunk, and the burgundy car drove away.

"Good evening." She walked to Fan Ning.

"Just got off the train." Fan Ning reluctantly moved the corner of his mouth.

"Turner Art Hall was the first stop. When I arrived, I heard that you were out, so this is the second stop." She observed Fan Ning's unconcealed expression, then looked at the nursing building in the dusk and sighed. .

"Aren't you going home first?" Fan Ning pointed to the red car that had driven out of the gate.

"I want you to send me off and let's chat by the way."

Cars were driving slowly on the street, and the warm lights of the store signs on both sides were lighting up one after another.

"Which home are you going back to?" Fan Ning asked.

"The mansion in the small town of Hiwala in the northern suburbs of Pushore District. Thank you for your hard work." Luo Yin in the passenger seat turned sideways to Fan Ning and looked at his side face looking straight ahead while driving.

"You're welcome."

"The application for the premiere concert has been passed." After a moment of silence, she spoke again, "It was passed today, so the administrative department should have received the acknowledgment at this time."

"You have better information than me." Fan Ning said, "Five days, so the Ministry of Culture failed to make the decision on its own this time. Did they receive some instructions from higher up?"

Although the results remain unchanged…

However, the approval cycle was very different from the past, and Fan Ning keenly sensed a change behind it.

"They were asked to wait for notification and further research. They waited for five days. Then... it passed as usual, but there is an additional requirement that requires your cooperation."

"It's the request of the Special Patrol Office, right?"

Luo Yin nodded slightly: "Save 15 additional internal tickets, and require all seats to be separated and evenly distributed in each area of ​​the symphony hall."

"Special seat for investigators?" Fan Ning laughed out loud and pressed the horn, "Dudu" to remind the swaying carriage ahead.

"This is interesting. Since the review result is still passed, it means that they have no evidence that my "Second Symphony" is a prayer or secret atmosphere used for evil mystical rituals. So, the premiere of a normal serious musical work Acting, what kind of show are they playing?”

"Mr. Fan Ning." Luo Yin's voice was soft.

"Um?"

"Do you think Luo Yin is someone you trust or are close to?"

"...So be it." Fan Ning paused, and then added: "After all, even without our personal relationship, I can see what the attitude of the Bologna School towards the Special Patrol Office is now. I am more or less someone worth making friends with." Intellectuals or artists, you won’t be plotting against me, right?”

"Maybe." Luo Yin smiled slightly, then lowered his voice, "I'm kidding, but that's the case."

"Tell me quietly first. After everyone escaped from the small town of Vatznay that day, did you find some way to pretend to be Vasius?"