131: The best time

Half past two in the afternoon,

The atmosphere in the Yiyuan Building Conference Center was even more solemn than it had been in the morning.

If the morning lecture was a “verbal confrontation,”

then the internal performance exchange meeting this afternoon was a genuine “martial confrontation.”

On the stage, the nine-foot Steinway grand piano stood at the golden ratio point.

The lid was propped up high,

and under the stage lights, the black lacquer surface reflected a cold glare.

The first three rows below the stage were filled with provincial leaders and experts,

as well as the Jiangcheng No. 1 High School leadership and all the teachers from the music research group.

Behind them were the selected art students and class representatives.

Hundreds of people were packed into the enclosed space.

The air was stagnant, and the stuffy heat mixed with the heating made people feel anxious in their chests.

Liu Hui was the first to take the stage, choosing “Butterfly Lovers.”

It must be said that as the cultural commissioner, her fundamentals were impeccable.

Her fingering was precise, the rhythm steady, and her pedal changes were clean and sharp.

When the piece ended, she rose gracefully, awaiting praise.

Professor Yu Yan merely adjusted his glasses, his tone flat:

“There were no wrong notes; it was virtually perfect.

But student, you played ‘Butterfly Lovers.’ It is about separation and death.

In your playing, I only heard ‘over-cautiousness,’ the prudence of someone terrified of hitting a wrong note.

You played Zhu Yingtai like a sheltered young lady, forgetting that she was a fierce woman who dared to leap into a grave."

This critique was harsher than outright scolding.

Liu Hui's face instantly paled. This kind of “perfect mediocrity” was the most fatal flaw.

This evaluation was like a bucket of cold water, extinguishing most of the enthusiasm in the venue.

The light in Liu Hui's eyes dimmed instantly; she even felt like crying.

The next few students were not spared either.

Yu Yan's commentary was sharp and merciless, covering everything from key striking force to pedal timing.

He tore apart these top students, who were usually pampered, leaving them utterly humiliated.

The atmosphere dropped to freezing point.

Everyone realized that this professor from Jinling,

was not a master of praise here just to go through the motions; she had come with a microscope.

“Thank you to all the students for their wonderful performances. Finally, please welcome student Ye Xi to perform.”

The host's voice broke the deadlock.

The previously lifeless audience instantly became agitated.

Students who had been slumped in their chairs straightened up, craning their necks.

Ye Xi walked onto the stage.

She had changed into a pair of black flats; her steps were small but very steady.

The spotlight hit her, and her small black dress shimmered with a cold light.

She walked to the piano bench and sat down, not rushing to place her hands on the keys,

but quietly lowered her head, looking at the black and white keys.

In that moment, what flashed through her mind was neither the sheet music nor her father's strict instructions,

but the jar of Sweet Garlic with a garlicky smell in the lounge,

it was Lin Que's phrase, “The cursing was filthy,”

and it was the soul in ghost detective that refused to reincarnate because of its obsession.

She took a deep breath,

as if trying to push the obedient “Ye Xi” out of her body through her breathing.

The buzzing sound of whispering instantly ceased.

Only the faint sound of static electricity occasionally coming from the speakers crackled in the empty hall.

Lin Que stood in the shadow of the side curtain, arms crossed.

Others saw the unreachable Piano Goddess; what he saw,

was the rebellious girl who stuffed all her dissatisfaction with the rules into a jar of Sweet Garlic.

Ye Xi raised her hands.

Without any elaborate starting posture, her hands fell heavily.

“Dong—Dong—Dong—”

The famous opening chords of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2, like heavy bells,

slammed into everyone's hearts, one after another.

It wasn't beautiful; it was heavy.

Yu Yan, sitting in the first row, suddenly widened her eyes,

her body, which had been leaning against the chair back, instantly pitched forward.

This intensity was wrong.

Whenever Ye Xi played this piece in the past, the opening was always handled too smoothly,

attempting to use technique to cover up the inherent weight.

But today, she tore off that smooth layer.

The piano music suddenly accelerated.

The previously heavy bells transformed into a fierce storm.

Ye Xi's fingers flew across the keys; her body no longer maintained an elegant, upright posture.

Strands of hair clung loosely to her cheeks, and sweat dripped from her chin onto the keys.

Lin Que watched the girl on stage who seemed to be glowing.

She transformed the days and nights spent locked in the practice room, the delicious food she pushed away to maintain her figure,

and the grievances she swallowed for the sake of “perfection” into the notes under her fingertips.

The students below the stage didn't understand Rachmaninoff, nor did they understand harmonic progression.

They only felt their scalps tingle, an inexplicable emotion creeping up their spines,

making them want to clench their fists and shout along with the music.

Yan Fang sat below the stage, her gaze behind her thick glasses shifting from initial scrutiny to shock.

“DONG!!!”

As the final note dropped,

the strings inside the piano casing were still vibrating wildly, producing a humming echo.

Ye Xi maintained the posture of having slammed the keys,

her chest heaving violently, an instinctive reaction after oxygen deprivation.

In this moment, the top floor of the Yiyuan Building was deathly silent.

“Clap—”

In the first row, Professor Yu Yan stood up.

This piano professor, who had been critical for most of her life,

even forgot the reserve expected of a judge, clapping her hands together forcefully.

The applause was like a signal flare.

The next second, the entire venue erupted in a thunderous roar.

Even the regular class students who didn't understand piano clapped their hands until they were red.

Ye Xi stood up from the piano bench, slightly dazed.

Her legs were weak—the feeling of exhaustion after the adrenaline wore off.

“Good! That was excellent!”

Yu Yan strode onto the stage, completely ignoring the host who was preparing to hand her the microphone.

She grabbed Ye Xi's wrist directly, and her sharp eyes were actually gleaming with excitement.

“Ye Xi, this is the best ‘Rach 2’ I have ever heard you play.”

Yu Yan's voice, transmitted throughout the venue via the lavalier microphone, carried a slight tremor.

“When Rachmaninoff wrote this piece, he was struggling, he was contemplating, he was trying to climb out of the mire of depression.”

Yu Yan stared intently into Ye Xi's eyes.

“Before, you only had the struggle and the contemplation; you were trapped within it. But today...”

Yu Yan took a deep breath and firmly patted Ye Xi's shoulder.

“Today, you achieved a breakthrough.”

The audience below burst into thunderous applause again.

Minister Zheng Songxue nodded repeatedly nearby.

Ye Xi stood under the spotlight, listening to the praise, and her eyes suddenly felt warm.

Not because of excitement, but because of relief.

She subconsciously turned her head, her gaze piercing through the dazzling lights,

through the fervent crowd, toward the dim shadow of the side curtain.

Lin Que was still standing there.

He was still wearing that ill-fitting red vest, hands in his pockets, his posture as lazy as an outsider's.

Their eyes met in the air.

Lin Que took his right hand out of his pocket and raised it to his chest,

giving a big thumbs-up.

Then, his lips curled into a mischievous smile, and he moved his mouth.

There was no sound, but Ye Xi accurately read the lip shape of those two words:

“B-B-Q!”

Ye Xi's slightly moist eyes instantly curved into crescent moons,

It was a joy more vivid than hearing the professor's praise... The exchange meeting ended, leaders rose to leave, and the crowd began to move.

Taking advantage of Professor Yu Yan being surrounded, Ye Xi

quickly winked at Lin Que and subtly pointed toward the side door.

Lin Que understood immediately and was just about to take off his red vest and slip away.

“Student Ye Xi.”

Principal Jiang Changfeng's signature laugh was like a wall,

completely blocking their path.

The old principal was beaming, clearly extremely satisfied with the day's events.

“Minister Zheng and Professor Yu have been full of praise for your performance today.

We have already reserved a private room at the Jiangcheng Hotel; it's a welcoming dinner for the experts and also a celebration banquet.”

The smile on Ye Xi's face froze slightly,

she subconsciously glanced at Lin Que and was about to politely refuse:

“Principal Jiang, tonight I...”

“Ah, Student Ye, you absolutely cannot decline.”

Principal Jiang Changfeng seemed to have anticipated this, waving his hand cheerfully.

“At noon, your esteemed father, Teacher Ye, specifically called me, repeatedly urging me to take good care of you.

If you don't attend this dinner,

I won't be able to explain myself to your esteemed father later.”

...