Chapter 11: Let's Not Argue
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
When Wen Ruoxian received a message from Song Qingluo, she was sure that she was full of anticipation. No one knew how many times she refreshed her Moments, so when she saw the words "wait for me," she immediately got out of the car, leaving behind the warmth and welcoming the cold wind.
It's like welcoming someone back home.
Watching Song Qingluo walking towards her, she felt nervous, and for a moment she didn't recognize her.
But isn't this the result she wanted, right?
Otherwise, she should act like she doesn't know. Song Qingluo is still Song Qingluo, a simply interesting and rebellious young lady, not the goddess of the stage.
Wen Ruoxian had drafted in her mind what to say and how to express herself. Unlike business meetings and negotiations, there were no tricks or pretense here. She wasn't skilled at expressing sincerity.
However, the current situation completely threw her off.
Before she could ask, tears began to flow from Song Qingluo's eyes.
"I made a mistake today. I got a sheet music with the wrong notes, and even though I realized it was wrong, I didn't react in time. I played the wrong notes. How could I make such a basic mistake? I've never done this before..." Her voice trembled, filled with disappointment in herself.
Soon, her nose turned red.
Tears glistened, and she looked pitiable.
Wen Ruoxian's heart felt like it was being pricked. After a while, she opened the car door, took out some tissues, and awkwardly comforted, "Don't cry."
In Song Qingluo's eyes, this gesture seemed like rejection.
"I'm sorry," Song Qingluo self-deprecatingly chuckled, "I forgot you mentioned that you're not comfortable with physical contact." After taking the tissues, she lowered her head, muttering to herself while wiping her tears, "It's okay, it doesn't matter..."
Wen Ruoxian said without much thought, "It's okay."
It was just a comforting hug.
Of course, it was okay.
She reached out her hands, but as soon as they touched Song Qingluo's shoulder, suddenly, Song Qingluo leaped into her arms, giving her a tight hug, causing a cool breeze to stir.
Wen Ruoxian suddenly stiffened all over.
But for the first time, her instinct didn't want to push away.
She heard a woman's weak sobbing in her ear, "I had memorized the sheet music perfectly, I could even write it out in full, so why did I make such a careless mistake, disturbed by the wrong notes... The last time I made such a basic mistake was when I was sixteen, why am I not even as good as my underage self..."
At the professional level, Song Qingluo had absolute confidence in herself.
Over the years, she had participated in numerous performances and competitions, received flowers and honors aplenty, and her self-demands had grown higher. Mistakes like today's, which were so basic, were not allowed.
The more she spoke, the quieter her voice became, and she buried her face in Wen Ruoxian's hair.
The fresh and clean scent of herbs was very pleasant.
With each sob, her body trembled, and her hands held on tighter.
Wen Ruoxian could feel her current reliance and vulnerability. The intense emotions were like a blazing fire, and she couldn't help but be moved. It all felt strangely familiar.
Suddenly, she thought of Cheng Suran.
In the past, whenever Ranran faced setbacks or grievances in her work, she would hold her like this, cry, or blame herself. She always felt heartache and wished she could bear it all for her.
But now, it was someone else in her arms.
Could the same feelings exist for different people? This question popped up abruptly, making Wen Ruoxian a bit flustered. Clearly, this question was beyond her capacity to contemplate and couldn't be thought through.
She chased away all the messy thoughts from her mind.
The cold wind rustled the leaves, and the air carried a desolate scent.
The sobbing gradually ceased, and Wen Ruoxian's stiff body relaxed. Her hands gently landed on Song Qingluo's back, comforting her, "I understand. You have high expectations for yourself, and the violin is your pride. But, to be so young and hold the position of the orchestra's first chair, how much praise and how many setbacks can you endure..."
A dry leaf fell on Song Qingluo's hair.
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
She paused, reached out to brush it away, and continued, "Mistakes are not a stain on your musical career. It's your attitude in the face of mistakes that matters. In fact, mistakes will accumulate valuable experience for you. You made a mistake this time, but you won't next time, right?"
"Don't cry."
The person in her arms made a muffled sound.
No response.
Wen Ruoxian wasn't in a hurry; she gently patted Song Qingluo's back. When she raised her eyes, she saw a few people walking out of the concert hall toward the main entrance.
Who would know that the first violinist was here crying...
The stage was filled with brilliance, but there was a longing for comfort in the audience, which created a stark contrast and piqued her curiosity even more.
Wen Ruoxian couldn't help but feel curious.
Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly let go of Wen Ruoxian, trying to keep her scent in her heart as much as possible. Her eyes were still red but the tears had dried.
She gazed at Wen Ruoxian's face with a greedy look.
"Alright, it's cold outside. If you have something to say, we can do it in the car," Wen Ruoxian said without suspicion, feeling the cold night breeze on her face.
Song Qingluo was surprised. "How do you know I have something to say?"
"Don't you want to introduce yourself properly?" Wen Ruoxian smiled knowingly. "The first violinist."
Her thoughts were exposed, and Song Qingluo blushed. "You're like a mind reader..."
"All your emotions are written on your face."
"Oh."
"I'll put the violin away first." Song Qingluo walked toward the ice-blue car parked nearby, unlocked it, and carefully placed the violin case inside.
This was her so-called "high-profile" ride.
A Porsche Taycan, an all-electric sports car.
Indeed, quite high-profile.
If she had to choose the most memorable, it would be the night they first met when she arrived on her bright red motorcycle.
Wen Ruoxian had a slight illusion again. Perhaps Miss Song wasn't as innocent as she appeared on the surface. Thinking this, she opened the passenger door for Song Qingluo and got into the car herself.
"Song Qingluo, a violin enthusiast, nice to meet you," Song Qingluo smoothly got into the car, extending her hand for a handshake.
Wen Ruoxian shook her hand with a smile. "Why just an 'enthusiast'?"
"Because the violin is just my hobby."
"But you work in an orchestra."
Her status should at least be a violin performer.
"I don't think so," Song Qingluo chuckled, "I participate as an 'invited violinist' in performances, serving as the first chair. Whether I perform in a particular show is entirely based on my mood. I'm not considered an official member of the orchestra."
Wen Ruoxian didn't quite understand. "Oh?"
"I genuinely love the violin and music, so I don't want to turn it into a job. I also don't rely on it for a living. That way, I can keep loving it," Song Qingluo's eyes sparkled with a hint of romance, her expression subtly revealing her passion.
When a hobby becomes a job, the enthusiasm can be worn down.
Naturally, Wen Ruoxian understood this principle.
In her heart, she couldn't help but sigh. Despite her youth, Miss Song was clear-headed, knowing what she wanted and what she should do, and she poured her energy and passion into it. It was much like the feeling she had when she first met Ranran.
But someone so clear-headed was inexplicably attached to staying at the company.
Concrete and steel office buildings, square-shaped cubicles; it was like a cage trapping this romantic and freedom-loving bird, and yet she willingly stayed confined.
Why exactly?
After thinking for a while, Wen Ruoxian finally spoke, "So, Miss Song, can you tell me the real reason why you want to stay at the company?"
She gazed directly into Song Qingluo's eyes.
The window to the soul is the most honest.
After some thought, she added, "You can clearly do what you love freely, but now, taking time off for performances and enduring your boss's disapproval contradicts what you said about being 'more free outside.'"
Upon hearing this, Song Qingluo's expression froze, and her smile remained stuck on her lips. She lowered her gaze and remained silent.
Seeing her reaction, Wen Ruoxian was certain that "freedom" was just a facade, and there must be another reason. The more she refused to speak, the more curious Wen Ruoxian became. She felt it wasn't as simple as it seemed.
"Are you afraid that I have impure motives and will do something harmful to the company?" Song Qingluo suddenly raised her eyes.
Wen Ruoxian was at a loss for words. In the past, maybe, but not now. Perhaps before demanding honesty from others, she should be honest herself. After some thought, she said, "I used to think that, but now I just feel it's a pity. You're wasting your time and..."
"I think it's worth it," Song Qingluo interrupted.
"It's not worth it."
"I said it's worth it!"
"..."
The two exchanged a wordless stare. The extended silence made time move incredibly slowly.
Suddenly, those eyes became enigmatic, like dark, unfathomable waters. They appeared cold, but there was a blue fire burning beneath the surface, making them unpredictable. Upon closer inspection, there was a hint of tears.
Wen Ruoxian raised her hands in surrender. "It's worth it, it's worth it. Let's not argue. Please don't cry, okay?"
"I'm not crying." Song Qingluo turned her face away and looked out of the window.
"Alright, alright, you're not crying," Wen Ruoxian consoled, feeling helpless.
The car fell into silence for a while, and Wen Ruoxian changed the topic, "I really liked the violin solo during the intermission tonight, but the performance piece had no name. You should know, right?"
Song Qingluo descended the stairs smoothly. "It's a piece I composed myself, but I haven't thought of a name for it yet."
"You can compose music?"
"Of course."
She raised her chin with great pride.
Wen Ruoxian couldn't help but smile when she noticed Song Qingluo's enthusiasm and said, "I wonder if there will be another chance to hear it live."
She didn't tell Song Qingluo that she had shed tears.
Song Qingluo's eyes grew eager, and she leaned in slightly, getting closer. "As long as you want to hear it, anytime. I can go to the recording studio another day and turn it into an audio file to give to you..."
"Thank you in advance, Miss Song," Wen Ruoxian replied politely.
"So, from now on, we're friends in private, right?"
"..."
"Are you unwilling?" Song Qingluo appeared slightly disappointed.
Used to keeping her emotions in check, Wen Ruoxian didn't show any visible reaction, but inside, she was uneasy. Two individuals who were supposed to have no connection seemed to be getting closer.
It shouldn't be like this.
"No," she maintained her gentle smile, though her words contradicted her thoughts, "I'm very happy to be friends with Miss Song."
Song Qingluo pretended to be displeased, "Who calls their friends like that?"
Wen Ruoxian had a feeling she had walked right into a trap. She had anticipated what Miss Song would say next.
And as expected...
"Just call me Qingluo."
Author's Note:
It's better to call me wife (not)
Today, I received many landmines and nutrient solutions, and I'm incredibly touched. Thank you for your messages and to the lovely readers who silently followed the story. Thank you all. I'll continue to send out red envelopes to everyone! =3
PS: Future updates will be in the early morning.
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