Chapter 10: Can You Hug Me?
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
The woman has long hair like a waterfall, silver like the cold moonlight.
Everyone is waiting. She gracefully walks to the center of the stage and shakes hands with the conductor. Her semi-transparent, thin chiffon dress with shimmering pearls stands out in the monotonous and solemn black suits.
As soon as she turned around, the light fell on her face.
Her red lips are rich and full, her facial features are seductive and beautiful, and her deep, slightly raised fox-like eyes hold a smile.
The woman bowed slightly facing the audience, then sat in the position of the first violinist, with her back straight and ready. The audience that had been whispering just now fell silent for an instant, as if they had fallen into a vacuum.
The performance piece is Dvořák's "Symphony No. 9: From the New World".
The opening prelude is led by strings, the rhythm suddenly becomes passionate and strong, and the stereo sound surrounds the entire concert hall.
For a few short minutes, Wen Ruoxian could not hear anything. Her ears seemed to automatically block out all sounds, leaving her with only vision. She stared closely at the silver-haired woman on the stage, her thoughts completely blank.
Song Qingluo.
It's actually her...
A lot of information poured in, and her mind is in chaos.
She remembered reading Song Qingluo’s resumé. She graduated from the Royal Academy of Music, majoring in violin. In an instant, everything became clear.
How can a person who graduated from one of the world's top music conservatories be ordinary?
She should have understood this long ago.
Back then, she thought it was just a case of a rich girl buying prestige.
Her thoughts returned to reality, and the sound gradually entered her senses. The magnificent and shocking music echoed in her mind. Her heartbeat rose and fell with the change of rhythm. However, she had lost interest in appreciating pure music.
Her eyes were filled with Song Qingluo's dazzling figure, and her mind was filled with "whys" that had piled up in recent days.
The daughter of the Song family, the pampered Young Miss, a top student from a top university, the first violinist of a famous orchestra... With all these accolades, could someone like her truly enter their company for the sake of "freedom"?
Wen Ruoxian didn't believe it.
Reasons that once seemed reasonable now appeared unreasonable.
The first half passed in a daze, with a brief intermission in the middle. The audience could be heard chatting and coughing, and on the stage, there was a rustling as the musicians adjusted their instruments and turned their sheet music. It was only then that she felt like she was returning from the world of music to the ordinary world.
The intermission was very short.
Then, Song Qingluo stood up, and the entire audience fell silent once again.
It's her violin solo.
A beam of cold light enveloped her, and the silver tassels exploded with brilliant colors. She stood there, high and isolated from the world as if she were a goddess and inviolable.
The notes outline a magnificent and poignant picture, arousing strong sadness in the heart, seeming like loneliness and yearning, both beautiful and laden with melancholy. The unique penetrative power of the violin's sound leaves everyone in the room with nowhere to hide.
The solo ended quietly.
After a long time, sporadic applause gradually resounded through the hall.
Wen Ruoxian clapped along mechanically, feeling something warm trickling down her eyes. She touches it and realizes it's wet. Her vision has blurred.
Feeling awkward for no reason, She looked around hurriedly.
Many people are wiping their eyes.
Onstage, Song Qingluo bows once again, then returns to her first chair position. After a brief adjustment, the second half begins.
Wen Ruoxian dries her tears with a tissue, takes a deep breath, and releases the heavy and murky emotions within her. She feels lighter, but she no longer has the heart to listen to the second half of the performance.
She remembers that night, seeing Song Qingluo carrying two still-dripping trash cans in front of her. She also recalls the many times she walked past the administrative office and saw Song Qingluo sitting at her desk, resting her head and gazing out the window...
And the way Song Qingluo looks on the stage at this moment.
The same skin split into two people. It is completely impossible to associate them. Even trying to imagine them is sinful and dirty.
Wen Ruoxian felt that she was the guilty one.
She was the devil who had clipped the wings of an angel, the one who plucked the petals of a rose.
She had defiled art.
The orchestra left before the audience.
Song Qingluo left earlier than other members of the band. Before the applause had subsided, she shook hands with the conductor and walked off the stage with her violin, without even missing a second.
Wen Ruoxian didn't leave immediately, she sat in her seat for a while, staring at the empty stage.
Then she raised her phone and took a photo.
Until everyone dispersed one after another, the staff came to remind her.
The late autumn dew was heavy, and the night breeze was cold.
Walking out of the concert hall, the moon hung crookedly in the night sky, a waning crescent, emitting dim light, surrounded by dark clouds.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
She got into her car and sat in silence for a while. Her emotions couldn't settle. She looked through the car windshield at the dazzling lights of the concert hall, which made even the moon pale in comparison.
She opened WeChat.
Found Song Qingluo.
The last message was "Oh" Song Qingluo sent a few hours ago.
Wen Ruoxian scrolled up and couldn't help but smile.
So, this "something else" was referring to such a grand event.
She clicked on the photo album and selected the photo she had just taken. She wanted to send it, but she was a little hesitant.
Should she tell the Young Miss about this?
She had come to the concert to witness the virtuosity of the first violinist. She wondered what the Young Miss' reaction would be. Shocked? Embarrassed? Just thinking about it seemed amusing.
However, sending the photo directly was not an easy option.
Wen Ruoxian thought of another method...
The backstage lounge.
Everyone chatted and laughed, but Song Qingluo sat quietly beside them, looking burdened with worries.
In the second half of Brahms's "Symphony No. 1", in the second movement, she could feel that she had made a wrong note. Clearly, the familiar sheet music in her mind was different from what she saw in her score. She hadn't realized it in time.
She flipped through the score in her hand and found several mistakes.
Then she realized it was an old edition.
No wonder...
"Is Qingluo here?"
The conductor walked into the lounge and glanced around.
Song Qingluo raised her head: "Here."
"In the second movement of the second half, you played two consecutive wrong notes for two measures. Did you notice it?" The veteran conductor, with graying hair, had been part of the orchestra from its inception and was highly respected. With his extensive experience, he easily detected any disharmony in the music.
Others may not be able to hear it, but it cannot escape his ears.
As soon as he said this, the room fell silent.
Everyone was bewildered.
They looked at Song Qingluo in surprise.
"I know..." Song Qingluo looked disheartened.
The old conductor thought she was just nervous on stage, sighed, and shook his head repeatedly, "This kind of pediatric mistake shouldn't happen to you... Were you not practicing seriously? Weren't you fine during the afternoon rehearsal?"
Song Qingluo wanted to defend herself that she hadn't been careless, but that the wrong score had thrown her off. However, these words would only sound like excuses.
After all, the facts couldn't be changed.
She admitted her mistake simply: "I'm sorry, I promise there won't be a next time."
"It's fine, fortunately, it didn't affect the performance. Learn from this." The old conductor sighed once more, waved his hand, and left the dressing room.
Other members gathered around."
Qingluo, where did you make the mistake?"
"I don't think I heard it..."
"Yeah, I didn't notice anything. What happened?"
Song Qingluo was in a low mood and really had no intention of answering anything. She shook her head feebly: "I'm going to change clothes. Let's go home."
She picked up her bag and violin and headed to the dressing room.
She removed the dress, carefully placed it in the bag, and changed into her regular clothes. Usually, this moment would be a joyful and relaxed one, but tonight it was heavy.
"Qingluo, did you accidentally grab the wrong sheet music?" Sun Yiren entered with two thick notebooks.
"There were two old editions on the table, but I just checked and there was only one new edition and one old edition."
Song Qingluo said wiltedly: "Mm, I got the old version. However, it has nothing to do with whether the score is right or wrong. It's because I have poor adaptability..."
"Well, humans are not machines. There will inevitably be times when we are careless. Many of us didn't hear the wrong sound, and the audience couldn't hear it. If it didn't affect the performance, it's fine. Don't take it too hard." Sun Yiren comforted her with a pat on the shoulder.
Song Qingluo just sighed and didn't say a word.
Although it didn't affect the performance, she couldn't get past it in her own heart. The conductor was right; it was a pediatric mistake, and it shouldn't have happened to her.
After saying goodbye to Sun Yiren, she picked up her phone to inform Shi Chuning that she wouldn't be going to the nightclub tonight.
She opened WeChat.
The entrance to the Moments section displayed Wen Ruoxian's profile picture.
Tsk—
The old-fashioned actually posted something?
Curiosity led her to click inside. Surprisingly, it wasn't work-related inquiries, but rather two photos. Upon zooming in, one was of the concert hall stage, and the other was a concert ticket...
[It is both an auditory feast and a visual enjoyment.]
Posted just five minutes ago. Song Qingluo gasped.
Could it be that Wen Ruoxian was at the concert tonight, in the audience...
Judging by the distance from which the photos were taken, it was clear she was sitting in the front row. At a concert, the experience was primarily auditory, and apart from listening, the only visual element was the stage.
She saw her.
Her hidden identity had been discovered, and for a moment, she didn't know whether to feel happy or worried.
Song Qingluo didn't have time to think any further, she just knew that right now, she really wanted to see Wen Ruoxian, desperately. So she took a screenshot of the Moments post and directly asked: [Where are you? Have you left?]
Unexpectedly, Wen Ruoxian replied in seconds: [Just arrived at the parking lot.]
The haze that filled her heart was suddenly swept away.
[Wait for me!] There are only a few cars left in the parking lot.
Song Qingluo saw the shiny "Jiang D SR220" at a glance, parked quietly under the tree. It was just one space away from her own ice-blue sports car. Wen Ruoxian was standing by the car door—
She was wearing a beige cashmere shawl and a smoky gray knitted long dress, which made her look tall and slender. The light colors gave her a cool yet intellectual appearance.
The wind blew her ink-like hair, and the street lights lengthened her shadow.
She is waiting for her.
Just like waiting for a girlfriend to come home after a performance.
Song Qingluo walked slowly towards her, for a brief moment thinking about rushing into her arms, hugging her, sharing her low-level mistake today, and getting comfort from her. In her gentle gaze, she would forget the gloom and maybe she could get a kiss.
But when she finally stood in front of Wen Ruoxian, none of those imagined things happened.
They looked at each other in silence.
Shock, confusion, doubt, and complexity...She saw many things in Wen Ruoxian's eyes.
"Do you also enjoy going to concerts?" Song Qingluo restrained her negative emotions, thinking about how to introduce her other identity to her.
Wen Ruoxian looked at the violin case in her hand, as if she had just withdrawn from the dream world, returned to reality, and merged the two separated people into one.
She nodded, showing a gentle smile: "Just a little hobby."
Her heart was suddenly gripped, and a sourness surged up.
All the restraint was in vain.
"Wen Ruoxian..." Song Qingluo took a deep breath and called her name, her eyes suddenly tinged with red.
"Can you hug me?"