Chapter 84: Extra - Sun Yiren
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
The concert ended, and the music hall erupted in thunderous applause.
Sun Yiren was the last to leave the stage. After every performance, she always sat in the first chair for a while longer, blankly staring at the audience, letting her mind drift.
Sometimes, she felt an illusion—the next second, Song Qingluo would return and push her back to the second chair.
Even though that girl had been gone for almost a year.
Now, the concertmaster of Jiangcheng Symphony Orchestra’s violin section was her. It had been her before, and it would be her in the future. Song Qingluo was just someone who had barged in midway, coming and going like the wind, nothing more than a passerby.
Speak of the devil—Sun Yiren had just returned backstage when she received a message from Song Qingluo:
[Yiren-jie, next week is my birthday, and I’m throwing a party. Will you come?]
An address and an invitation followed.
Sun Yiren glanced at the message. It was a scenic little island that Song Qingluo had booked for three days, complete with boat transfers, expensive drinks, snacks, and lavish party favors.
The air of decadence was suffocating—just the thought of it made her feel sick.
[I don’t like crowded places.]
After replying, Song Qingluo sent back an adorable sticker, acting coy and saying they hadn’t seen each other in a long time, and that she missed her.
Sun Yiren put her phone away and didn’t respond.
Wearing a mask for too long made it uncomfortable to take it off at first. She had thought she still considered Song Qingluo a good friend, that growing distant would take time. Now, she had already adjusted and only wished they could become strangers.
“Yiren, want to grab a drink?”
“I heard there’s a dance crew performing tonight…”
A colleague came over to invite her. Sun Yiren quickly snapped out of her thoughts. “No, I’m a bit tired and want to rest early.”
“Then you absolutely have to come to tomorrow’s dinner.”
“I can’t make it, I’ve got plans.” She smiled and shook her head.
No matter the occasion, she always wore a calm, faint smile. She seemed unshaken by anything, appearing gentle and making it hard for others to refuse or trouble her.
“Alright, you’re such a busy person.”
After a few polite exchanges, her colleagues left one by one. Sun Yiren packed up her things and left the lounge.
Song Qingluo didn’t send any more messages, probably realizing it was pointless to insist and wisely giving up. Sitting in the taxi on her way home, Sun Yiren read the messages over and over again, unable to resist the urge to reply.
Who could say no to a girl acting coy like that?
Setting aside their professional rivalry, she didn’t really dislike her.
Song Qingluo was a colleague worth admiring and respecting.
By the time she got home, Sun Yiren still hadn’t replied. She decided to delete the chat entirely, out of sight, out of mind.
In her email inbox, there was an unread message.
She clicked on it. It was a long-term inactivity notice from an overseas platform. Seeing the familiar ID, she suddenly remembered something. She put down her bag and opened the platform app.
The account logged in automatically. The homepage had only one video—an edit promoting a "beautiful violinist." It had been uploaded nearly a year ago, its views slowly increasing, with new comments appearing constantly.
If not for the email reminder, she would have almost forgotten she had done this.
The comments were in various languages. Most of the Chinese ones were compliments, but a few were laced with sarcasm and vulgarities.
Seeing those insults, Sun Yiren frowned, an uncomfortable feeling rising in her chest. Then, she remembered that she was the one who had edited and uploaded the video. A wave of guilt crept over her.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Song Qingluo’s decision to leave the orchestra wasn’t without reason—this video had played a significant role. She had merely used the power of “leverage” to move a thousand pounds.
The more individualistic a person was, the easier it was to exploit their weaknesses.
She had lit the fire, fanned the flames, and let it spread to a level she found satisfactory. But she couldn’t control where the fire went. There is no benefit to doing things too far.
By now, the video had served its purpose.
Sun Yiren pondered for a long time before deleting it and deactivating the account.
She took a shower, then headed straight to the practice room to rehearse. Rain or shine, performing and practicing were part of her daily routine—her life was dull and flavorless.
From a professional standpoint, her dedication and hard work had already surpassed ninety percent of people in the industry.
Even so, when standing before a naturally gifted player like Song Qingluo, she could barely match her at best.
Not to mention, Song Qingluo didn’t even rely on this for a living.
For some reason, she couldn’t focus at all tonight.
Every piece in the score was one she had practiced and refined with Song Qingluo. As the notes flowed from the strings, they pieced together Song Qingluo’s face, tugging at the melancholy in her heart.
“Truly haunting…”
Sun Yiren let out a cold laugh and set down her violin.
Back then, when Song Qingluo had just joined the orchestra, she struggled to adjust. As the long-time concertmaster, Sun Yiren had helped her get to know their colleagues and understand the domestic music scene, making things much easier for her.
She had genuinely admired Song Qingluo and sincerely wanted to take care of her like a younger sister.
That was why, when she got "stabbed in the back," it all felt like such a joke.
Admiration was ridiculous. Sincerity was ridiculous. Kindness was ridiculous.
The bookshelves in the practice room were filled with trophies, and the walls were covered with medals. Every honor she had received this year was something she had fought for bit by bit. Walking this path from an ordinary family, she had already pushed herself to the limit.
Was it that she couldn’t get into a prestigious international school? No, she had simply given up because she couldn’t afford the tuition.
Was it that she couldn’t win international competition awards? No, she had only missed the chance because she had to take care of a sick family member.
If she had a family background like Song Qingluo’s, she could have been like her—not relying on a hobby to make a living, not turning a passion into work, and simply immersing herself in pure music.
Then she could have spoken so righteously, saying, “Profit and formality have defiled art."
Arrogant without knowing it, privileged without realizing it—her life had been smooth sailing, so she naturally believed the world should be like this.
Call it innocence if you want, but change her birth, and it would just be low emotional intelligence.
Every time Song Qingluo revealed that naive side in front of her, it was like saying, "If you cannot afford bread, then eat meat."
It was so disgusting it made her want to throw up.
She hated the superiority that came from being lifted by her family background. She hated how she spoke of art as if it must not be tainted by the smell of cooking smoke. She hated how she whispered her effortless life right into her ear.
The noble princess looked down on the common people, yet she still parachuted in to snatch a commoner’s livelihood.
Because it was fresh, she wanted to play.
When the princess wanted to play, the mortals had to step aside.
Sun Yiren closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. The moment she thought of how this princess had been "driven" out of the orchestra by her own weakness, a surge of pleasure rose in her heart.
A battle for survival had always been a fight to the death—tearing each other apart for profit, never looking graceful.
If she was wretched, if she was despicable, if she was hateful—then those words were compliments to her. On the other hand, if she remained indifferent in the face of a threat, then she would truly look down on herself.
—She refused to be her enemy, but she would never be her friend.
After sitting in silence for a while, Sun Yiren straightened out her emotions. The reason she had been so restless tonight was because she had received a message from Song Qingluo.
She could no longer have any contact with her; otherwise, she would fall into endless self-destruction.
She picked up her phone and replied:
[No. ]
[We are not walking the same path. It is best if we do not stay in touch.]
Within minutes, Song Qingluo sent a question mark in reply.
Sun Yiren tapped on her profile picture and deleted her from her friends list.
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