Chapter 1: What's Your Name?
WARNING: This is fixed MTL, accuracy not guaranteed
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This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
On how to pronounce the names, screenshot, then let google translate or google lens or any of your translator app read it aloud. And for those who still don't know, in Chinese, Korean and Japanese, the format is; Surname + Given name
宋清萝 - Song Qingluo闻若弦 - Wen Ruoxian 孙伊人 - Sun Yiren_________
November in Jiangcheng, dead leaves withered and the branches were covered with frost.
One of the landmark buildings located on the south bank by the riverside, the Jiangcheng Concert Hall is holding a grand symphony concert. The lights are gorgeous and soft, there are no empty seats at the scene, and the rich and full music echoes in the hall.
On the stage is the famous Jiangcheng Symphony Orchestra.
Everyone was wearing black suits and pure white shirts, solemn and dignified except for Song Qingluo——
Her waist-length curly hair was dyed silver-gray and was loosely flowing behind her back. She was wearing a sexy vermilion backless dress that was bright and flamboyant, like a delicate flower blooming in the barren wasteland, attracting people's attention.
She sat upright in the first chair violinist's position, focused on the sheet music, the notes produced by the violin strings blending into the entire musical performance.
The repertoire is Berlioz's "Symphony Fantastique".
The fifth movement had reached its conclusion. As the final note fell, the conductor's gestures tightened, and there was a brief silence in the entire hall. This two-hour-long symphony concert had come to an end. All the members of the orchestra stood up to salute, and the audience erupted in applause.
The conductor approached and shook hands with Song Qingluo.
Soft, warm light enveloped her, with her silver hair poised and her fiery red dress contrasting with the solemn surroundings, making her stand out as the center of attention in the whole venue.
After completing the task, Song Qingluo didn't want to stay for another second and took the lead to leave the stage quickly.
She has always been like this, and everyone is not surprised.
The applause lasted for a long time.
Backstage, Song Qingluo carefully placed her violin into its case and took out her phone to check her messages. Her friend had asked her ten minutes ago: [Is it over? I've been waiting for you.]
[I'm on my way.]
After replying to the message, Song Qingluo took out cosmetics from her bag and began to touch up her makeup in front of the mirror.
She has a striking appearance, with enchanting and gorgeous facial features, and a slight sense of mixed blood. The kind that catches your eye in a crowd. To change into party makeup, she only needs to thicken her eyeliner, smudge the eye shadow, and layer the brick-red lipstick.
A few simple strokes, and she's done.
The other members of the orchestra came back one after another.
"Qingluo, are you going on a date?" The trumpet player teased, and everyone's eyes fell on Song Qingluo.
She packed her bag without raising her head: "Yes."
The room suddenly fell quiet.
Usually, after a performance, everyone would chat and laugh, at least exchange a few words. But tonight's atmosphere seemed off. In the dressing room, there were only faint sounds of instruments and bags being moved.
No one spoke.
Song Qingluo didn't realize it, she was immersed in her own world.
"Xiao* Song."
*Xiao (小) means little or small, when used as a prefix to someone's name to indicate familiarity, endearment, or a sign of respect, especially when addressing someone younger or of lower status. (I know most CN Novel readers are already familiar with this and may find this tiring to see, but there's a chance there will be first-time CN readers, so please understand)
The vice-captain came in last, glanced at everyone, and walked to Song Qingluo, "Come out for a moment, I have something to tell you."
"What is it?" Song Qingluo didn't look at him, let alone intend to go out.
"Come out first."
"I'm in a hurry, so let's talk here."
The man glanced at the other members, seemed to be deliberating, but also seemed to be in a dilemma, and said after a while: "Isn't there a big leader who came to the scene tonight? Overall, I am satisfied, but it is your dress… ahem, the leader thinks that there should still be rules.”
The implication of these words is so obvious that it can't even be regarded as a hint.
It was explicit.
Song Qingluo, a first-chair violinist dressed as if she was going on a catwalk at the symphony concert is simply outrageous.
Everyone looked at her.
"Really?" Song Qingluo zipped up her backpack, raised her head casually, and smiled slightly with her long and narrow fox eyes, "I hate rules the most."
As a specially invited violinist, she is not a permanent member of the orchestra. She only serves as the first chair when there are large-scale performances. It has been almost a year now. She has always done her own way and is famous for being a maverick. She never dresses according to the standard for every performance. She doesn't accept every invitation either, often deciding based on her mood and schedule.
Initially, some people criticized her for it, but as time went on, they found her quite unique.
After all, she was personally invited by the Music Director.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Her professional skills were undeniable, and her talent justified her individuality. Over time, no one paid much attention to her attire, and the Music Director turned a blind eye as well.
"..."
The vice-captain's expression froze.
He has not been in the orchestra for a long time, and he is not yet familiar with everyone's temperament. He struggled to respond to Song Qingluo's remarks, saying, "This is what the leader wants, and I can't do much about it."
"You can ask the leader to come and tell me in person."
"But…"
"Vice Guo, leaders often prefer to appear friendly in public while making their subordinates handle tough decisions. Regardless of the outcome, they still look like good leaders in front of others. And what about you? Since the message has been delivered, whether I listen or not doesn't matter. Just go back and report. I'm sure you don't want to have a bad relationship with me, right?"
The vice-captain fell silent.
The rest looked at each other in blank dismay.
"If there's nothing else, I'm leaving first." Song Qingluo raised her wrist to look at her watch, carried the violin case on her back, and stepped on her high heels to leave the lounge.
A cool breeze rustled outside, the crescent moon hiding behind low clouds. By the old streetlamp near the entrance, there were piles of dry branches and fallen leaves. The warm yellow light cast her shadow as she walked, escorting her to the parking lot.
An ice-blue sports car parked at the corner.
Song Qingluo got in the car, carefully placed the piano case on the right seat, and stretched.
Two WeChat messages popped up on the phone:
[Qingluo, are you okay?]
[I just arrived backstage, and I heard what happened just now. Vice-captain Guo probably wasn't targeting you, don't take it to heart.]
Sun Yiren comforted her.
This is the associate concertmaster of the violin section, the only friend Song Qingluo in the orchestra gets along with quite well. She has provided Song Qingluo with a lot of experience and guidance regarding performances. In a sense, Sun Yiren can also be considered her "teacher."
Song Qingluo replied in a voice message: "Don't worry, Yiren-jie*, I don't care about those things."
Jiejie (姐姐) or -jie: means "older sister." used to refer to one's older sister or cousins or a friendly way to address an older girl or woman who is not necessarily a family member but is close enough to be considered like a sister.
"I'm driving, let's talk next time."
A stream of glacier blue sailed out of the gate of the concert hall.
Ten minutes later, the car entered the basement of a high-end apartment. Song Qingluo hurried upstairs with the violin on her back, changed into a leather jacket, overalls, and Martin boots suitable for riding, grabbed her helmet, and headed to the exclusive parking spot on the other end—
A majestic fiery red motorcycle.
Ducati Superleggera V4, her new big toy.
She set off to the party.
It wasn't a weekend night, but the city was still bustling with lights. Song Qingluo rode her motorcycle on the wide streets, with the vibrant cityscape smoothly retreating by her side. The bright flame-colored body and occasional engine roars were very eye-catching.
As the speed goes up, there is a constant urge to accelerate, but she has to control her right hand carefully.
She waited at a red light at an intersection.
The window of the driver's seat of the car next door lowered, and the man pointed his head and whistled at her: "Beauty, is that your own bike?"
Song Qingluo didn't bother to look at him, instead, she freed her right hand and stretched it out to give her middle finger.
Pedestrians crossing the zebra crossing frequently glanced in her direction.
A few young girls couldn't help but look at her while whispering:
"It's a female rider."
"The young lady is so cool!"
"I also want to dye my hair to that color, I don't know if I can pull it off..."
The corners of Song Qingluo's mouth curled up slightly.
Human vanity has been greatly satisfied.
She crossed the intersection, and two more streets to her destination. The area was getting closer to the edge of the main city, with fewer people and vehicles, but there were many intersections, so she didn't dare to speed up.
Before turning left, Song Qingluo slowed down a bit and shifted to first gear, then turned the bike steadily—
Suddenly, a black car that was slowly starting up appeared in her field of view.
She jerked violently, subconsciously stepping on the rear brake with her right foot, and squeezed the front brake with her right hand at the same time, but the distance was too close, the car braked a little slower, causing a collision
—crash!
Song Qingluo reacted quickly and jumped out of her bike. She couldn't stabilize her center of gravity and staggered to the ground.
The motorcycle weighing more than 300 kilograms fell with a "thud".
"Hiss..."
Where did this road killer come from?
They didn't even pay attention to observe the surrounding situation when starting. This kind of person who drives without eyes must be a male driver!
Song Qingluo cursed and wailed in her heart, and got up with a frown. Just as she was about to help her precious motorcycle, she saw the left door of the car open, and the person inside got out.
She removed her helmet, marched forward angrily, and said, "How can you drive like that? Are you severely..."
After seeing the person's face clearly, she swallowed the word "ill" abruptly.
In an instant, a rush of familiarity dissolved her anger completely, but this feeling was also vague, making her uncertain.
Standing under the streetlamp, the woman is slender, with skin as thin as snow. Her straight black hair fell to her shoulders, and her light khaki suit jacket was meticulously tailored, with sharp edges and corners, perfectly proper.
The buttons on her inner shirt were fastened up to the top.
"It was you who suddenly bumped into me," she spoke calmly, her voice as clear as pebbles colliding.
Followed by a soft and elegant woody fragrance, like herbs, but not strong and choking, and like dried petals left still, fresh, and clean—a very special fragrance, which could be associated with a serious and reserved nun.
Song Qingluo came back to her senses, and her tone softened unconsciously: "I turned the corner normally, and I didn't bump into you intentionally."
Deep black eyes seemed to harbor a probing curiosity as if they were looking at someone else through her.
Wen Ruoxian felt peculiar under this intense gaze.
Seeing the other person calming down and her attitude improving, she also softened her expression and corrected, "I said 'suddenly,' not 'intentionally.'"
"Is there any difference?"
"The difference is that one is half the responsibility and the other bearing full responsibility."
Song Qingluo frowned, wanting to say why she should still bear any responsibility, but her thoughts turned faster than her mouth, and she held back in time. She asked hesitantly, "Does that mean we each share half of the responsibility?"
Wen Ruoxian nodded and explained seriously: "I was going straight, you were turning right, I'm on the main road, you are on the side road, no matter in principle or specific circumstances, you should have yielded to me. However, just now, after finishing a phone call, I didn't pay attention to the intersection and didn't brake in time, so I also bear some responsibility."
Song Qingluo was allergic to preaching, and instinctively showed some resistance: "Shouldn't the judgment of responsibility be made by the traffic police?"
"If you want, you can call the police."
"..."
She went through various scenarios in her mind.
Too troublesome.
"There's no need to alarm the traffic police for such a small scratch." Song Qingluo said tactfully, but she had some calculations in her heart. She noticed a hint of cunning in Wen Ruoxian's eyes. "But no matter what, since our vehicles collided, compensation should be arranged. How about we exchange contact information and later send each other the repair bills after we return..."
Wen Ruoxian looked at her indifferently: "It's better to alert the traffic police."
"Can't we settle it privately?"
"Private settlement means settling it on the spot, whether or not compensation is involved, and there's no further contact afterward. If there's a need for contact afterward, it should be handled by a third-party authority to ensure fairness and justice, reducing risks."
She analyzed clearly, with a serious expression on her face, like an old pedant who has been teaching for many years, stiff and rigid.
Song Qingluo didn't like this kind of people the most in the past. Contrary to her temperament, dealing with them was extremely troublesome and restrictive, but now looking at this face, she was surprisingly patient, and even vaguely had a wicked urge—
A desire to tear off that forbidden camouflage.
"Oh…"
This person doesn't play cards according to routine.
"Are you injured?" Wen Ruoxian looked her up and down.
Song Qingluo moved her hands and feet and twisted her neck and waist. She didn't feel anything unusual, but her palms rubbed against the concrete floor and her skin turned red under the light.
She shook her head: "No."
Wen Ruoxian glanced at the motorcycle lying on the ground, perfectly intact. Then she looked at the front of her own car, which had only picked up some dust and didn't reach the level that required compensation. She contemplated and said, "Since both you and your motorcycle are fine, let's forget about it. No need for compensation. Consider it my bad luck."
It's a trivial matter. Finish it as soon as possible and go home to rest. There is still a lot of work to be done tomorrow. Time is precious.
After speaking, she conveyed her wishes with her eyes.
Song Qingluo had no other choice, "Okay."
Seeing her turn around to leave, she took half a step forward and impulsively grabbed her sleeve, "Wait..."
Wen Ruoxian's expression froze.
The soft and delicate fabric in her palm was made of high-thread-count wool. Song Qingluo lowered her chin and gazed into a pair of eyes as gentle as still water. They were eerily similar to that summer night.
This time, her mouth was faster than her brain.
"What's your name?"
Author's Note:
The new article, which is long overdue, is here~
This is the Side CP* of "Forbidden to Be Tempted", I hope to give Wen-jie a complete success, I hope I have fun writing, and the little cuties have fun reading =3=
*couple pairing