Chapter Eighty-Nine: Lofty Mockery

The clamorous concert hall fell silent at once. Every eye turned toward the fat man nicknamed Creeper Bro. Last year, his face had plastered the entire forum of the Shanghai Theatre Academy; there was no one who did not recognize him.

No one had expected that this fat man had not run away, and that he would actually come back like a fool.

Seeing that he had drawn so many eyes, Cheng Xiaoyu showed not the slightest stage fright. Back when he played rock, he had faced crowds of ten thousand and more.

As he walked toward the stage, he said, “I’m not too late, am I? Sorry, everyone. I wasn’t prepared yesterday. I just went to the print shop to get the score printed.”

A wave of uproar swept through the hall. In the preliminary round, playing from memory was mandatory. In the second round, it was not expressly required, but almost no one performed with sheet music before them; that would cost heavily in points. At the very least, the judges would be left with a poor impression.

It would have been better if Cheng Xiaoyu had said nothing at all. The moment he spoke, jeers burst out on every side, and contemptuous glances closed around him once more.

Yet he strolled calmly down the broad central aisle of the hall, as though he were a grave and majestic emperor about to ascend and address his court, waving the rolled-up score in his hand as if it were his supreme scepter.

At the sight of this, everyone found him absurd beyond measure. The hall erupted in louder boos. To them, this fat fool, ignorant of his own insignificance, had come to the Shanghai Theatre Academy’s exam only to disgrace it.

He moved against a tide of cold and merciless mockery. Laughter, ridicule, and abuse surged from both sides into his ears, but within him there was only a growing stillness.

Only Duanmu Linsha, clutching her phone in her hand, felt ashamed of her own doubt and shouted encouragement for Cheng Xiaoyu into the sea of jeers.

Unfortunately, the booing was too deafening; her tiny voice could not carry at all.

Still, when Cheng Xiaoyu passed her row, he saw her waving arm, saw the shape of her lips cheering him on.

He smiled at her and made an okay sign.

That only deepened the displeasure of the Academy students. Someone even began shouting, “Get out!”

Li Yunling looked at Cheng Xiaoyu, clownish in his eyes, forced down the anger in his heart, and sat back down. Since the man had come, they could not very well refuse to let him take the exam. Into the microphone, Li Yunling could only urge, “Candidate number five hundred and eleven, please do not waste everyone’s time. Come to the stage and begin your performance at once.” He made no effort afterward to ask the audience for silence.

Cheng Xiaoyu ignored him and mounted the stage at his own pace. He needed a little time to recover. Running in from outside the campus had taken no small toll on his strength, and the piece he was about to play demanded ample physical power.

He stepped onto the stage quietly, his face neither joyful nor sorrowful, as though all the clamor below had nothing to do with him.

He went to the piano and set down the score, and at once a fresh roar of boos rang through the hall. With every movement he made, another wave arose. Cheng Xiaoyu paid it no mind. He walked to the edge of the stage and said to the student union president, Hu Bing, who stood there, “I need someone to turn the pages for me.”

Even the seven judges below thought that performing from the score was rather too perfunctory. Li Yunling gave a derisive snort, disdaining what he took to be the final struggle of a spoiled wastrel.

Hu Bing, as though he had discovered something hilarious, looked at the clueless little fat man with mockery at the corner of his mouth and raised the microphone. “This classmate needs someone to turn pages for him. Is anyone willing?”

The vast concert hall became utterly still. Everyone looked at the solitary Cheng Xiaoyu onstage with eyes full of amusement.

Cheng Xiaoyu had not imagined that this school would bear him such deep malice. He was a little stunned by Hu Bing’s conduct; he had assumed that, as host, helping him would be the natural thing.

But at this moment he could only turn and walk back toward the piano. Perhaps there truly was not one person here who would choose to help him.

Laughter rose everywhere in the hall, all waiting to see the humiliated Cheng Xiaoyu make a fool of himself.

Duanmu Linsha, seated in the back, hesitated for a moment and was about to stand and go onstage. To her surprise, a girl in front of her stood up first and called out loudly, “I will.” Then she threaded her way through the seated row, moving toward the central aisle beneath countless disbelieving stares.

Though only her profile could be seen and her features not clearly made out, from her silhouette alone the girl was already beautiful beyond words.

At that moment Duanmu Linsha felt she had to do something, however small, to support her idol. She rose too, blushing, and walked toward the stage. Only the words “I will too” were too shy for her to bring herself to say.

As the two girls slowly made their way toward the stage together, the laughter in the hall stopped dead.

Everyone stared at them, dumbstruck, as though witnessing a miracle happen before their eyes, as though everything about it defied belief.

The girl behind might not have been someone whose name everyone knew, but they all recognized her as the pretty girl who had just played Schubert. If that alone was not shocking enough—

the girl in front was utterly beyond acceptance.

She was the pride of the Shanghai Theatre Academy, the newest campus beauty, Pei Yanchen.

And the fat man onstage was precisely the one who had nearly caused her death.

Even Cheng Xiaoyu could scarcely believe it. Duanmu Linsha finding the courage to help him had already exceeded all his expectations. He had not had much contact with that girl, nor had he known her long. He had always felt that their relationship had not yet reached even the level of ordinary friends. He truly did not understand why someone as exceptional as she was would support him so firmly.

As for the girl in the Academy uniform ahead of her, he felt certain he had seen her somewhere before, yet no matter how he tried, he could not remember where. Then enlightenment struck him all at once: perhaps it was because she looked so much like Yui Aragaki. Cheng Xiaoyu nearly could not bear it; he felt as though at any second he might fall out of the scene entirely and step into a Japanese drama instead.

Only, compared to Yui Aragaki, this girl’s features held a touch more softness and playful charm. She had the same fresh and enduring beauty, pure and lovely, untouched by worldly dust. Cheng Xiaoyu could imagine that when she smiled, it must be wonderfully sweet; yet when she did not, there was a melancholy air about her.

At that moment, the enormous concert hall seemed frozen beneath an enchantment. Only two peerless girls remained, passing through time like offerings in some silent rite.

Everyone gaped at the scene before them, unable to believe their own eyes, as if they had seen a ghost; their minds had gone blank.

Only when Pei Yanchen reached the stage did she realize that another girl had come up behind her. But in order to lighten the secret burden of guilt she carried in her heart, she decided to take over the task herself.

Turning to Duanmu Linsha, she said, “Let me do it. His situation now... I bear some responsibility for it as well.”

Duanmu Linsha nodded. Whether she turned pages or not did not matter to her. She only wanted Cheng Xiaoyu to know that no matter what, she supported him.

Nor did she think Cheng Xiaoyu’s piano playing could surpass Wu Di’s. Piano performance and pop music were, after all, two different things. Very few people could truly excel at both. In one sense, piano performance was rational, logical, rigorous; while the creation and performance of pop music were far more emotional and free.

All she hoped was that Cheng Xiaoyu could perform a little better and gain admission to the Academy. But now it seemed he had somehow set himself against the entire school.

A little worried, Duanmu Linsha looked at him. He did not bow to the audience, but sat down directly before the piano.

Standing at his side, Pei Yanchen glanced at the score and asked, “You... are you sure you want to play this piece?”

Cheng Xiaoyu nodded without speaking. He had no leisure to dwell on why the clear, clean girl beside him, pure as running water, had chosen to help him. In his mind he still had to run through the piece once more. It had been far too long since he had played it. Once, at the International Chopin Competition, it was with this very work that he had taken third place.

Pei Yanchen felt it necessary to announce the name of the piece to the audience, lest unnecessary misunderstanding arise.

Seeing that Cheng Xiaoyu still had no intention of beginning, she called out in a loud voice, “The piece this student will perform is Michael Finnissy’s English Country-Tunes.”

Then, after a brief stunned silence, the vast concert hall of the Shanghai Theatre Academy exploded as though a cauldron had overturned.

Even the judges below could not help turning to whisper among themselves.

He Mingzhe wore a face of tangled emotions—disbelief, astonishment, and a sudden sense of being struck down. He thought the fat man might be insane. No—he was certain of it.

He Mingzhe’s hands were clenched together so tightly they hurt, and his mind was filled with only one title:

English Country-Tunes.

The second most difficult piano piece in the world.

An unimaginable work of extreme difficulty that no one had yet dared challenge.

A divine piece among piano works.