King of Classical Music 89

The room was lively, and Vienna’s beautiful night could be seen out the window. Crystal lights hung from the hotel’s high ceiling, shining like diamonds, and brightened the brilliant banquet hall.

The banquet started a while ago, and the Wei Ai members were chatting and laughing with each other. Their first tour of the year had come to an end, and they would soon get a vacation to reward their hard work. It was a happy occasion for everyone.

Most of them sat on the sofa at the center of the hall. On the other side of the hall, a kind, old man smiled and approached a beautiful, black-haired young man and said: “Hello, Qi Mu. I heard your teacher gave you a lovely English name, so I will call you by that name, is that okay?”

Dorenza’s Chinese was quite good, so his pronunciation of “Qi Mu” was also standard.

Qi Mu was very excited, but he held it back. He politely nodded and said respectfully, “Yes, Mr. Dorenza. You can call me that.”

Such a cute and beautiful child was enough to win everyone’s favor.

Before meeting Qi Mu in person, Dorenza didn’t understand why Reed, who had always been eccentric, loved this student of his so much and even called him time and again asking him to take care of the child. But now that he had seen him, Dorenza completely understood——

This child really made people feel pleasant.

“Little Seven, I’ve listened to your 《Dance of the Goblins》 and your teacher, as well as Farrell, sent me the albums you recorded in Huaxia.” Dorenza fixed his silver frame glasses and smiled, “Your violin is excellent, Seven. I like your sound.”

Qi Mu never expected that he would receive such high praise from Dorenza. The grip on his glass tightened, and he said, “Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Dorenza. I also like your music very much.”

The two continued to chat leisurely.

Qi Mu was quite the talkative person, and Dorenza was also a good speaker. Once the two sat together, the conversation became harmonious.

Even when a VIP passed by, they continued to talk.

“Little Seven, in fact, when I listened to your albums, I felt that your style was similar to a friend of mine.” Dorenza put down his glass and smiled, “You are as skillful and as emotional as he was, but after listening to you later works, I think you’re a bit different.”

This sentence squeezed Qi Mu’s heart. He smiled and asked, “Different?”

Dorenza nodded lightly, “Well, Seven, although you’re younger than my friend, your music is heavier than his. Before meeting you personally, I couldn’t believe you’re only 22 years old. Your talent isn’t inferior to that of Christole, and you might even… be better than him.”

Since his emergence as a classical musician in Europe nine years ago, multiple magazines in the world called him the “genius of 50 years” and Christole truly didn’t disappoint.

Paganini International Violin Competition, Menuhin International Violin Competition, Tchaikovsky International Violin Competition…

Christole won these international competitions with outstanding performances. He graduated from Munich Conservatory of Music at the age of 19 then joined the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra as their concertmaster a year later.

But now…

Dorenza said Qi Mu’s talent surpassed Christole’s.

This statement seems to say: Qi Mu was the genius of a century.

Qi Mu shook his head and modestly said, “Thank you for your praise, Mr. Dorenza. But compared to Christole, I still have a lot more to work on.”

Dorenza shook his head and said, “Seven, the Chinese are always like this, humble. You’re already at the same level as Christole.” After a slight pause, Dorenza sighed.  “But. . . if my friend was still alive, with his effort and talent, the classical music world in the upcoming few decades would have been his.”

What Dorenza spoke of, Qi Mu somewhat knew. . .

Precisely who “my friend” was.

Qi Mu’s heart tightened painfully. He just smiled and nodded, “It’s a pity, I didn’t expect this gentleman already passed away. . . I’m sorry, Mr. Dorenza, for reminding you of something so sad.”

Dorenza chuckled and shook his head. “It’s fine. Seven, that kid was a fantastic violinist. If you can listen to his albums, maybe you will harvest something.”

Qi Mu nodded, “Yes. By the way, Mr. Dorenza, you. . .”

“Dorenza, it turns out you’re here talking to our Angel secretly?” A cheerful voice came from behind Qi Mu. He turned his head and saw a middle-aged man with a beard come over. “I was wondering where you were, turns out you’re hiding here.”

Dorenza just shook his head and said with a wry smile, “Zayev, I wanted to have a chat with Reed’s student. Where did you think I was?”

This was Lyon Zayev, the concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. This violinist was in his early 50’s, but he looked healthy, energetic, and younger than his age. His personality was bright and friendly, so his reputation in the music circle was also good.

Qi Mu could only face this musician with a smile, “Mr. Zayev, my name is not Angel. My name is…”

“Huh? Didn’t Mr. Farrell call you Angel before? When he visited the orchestra last month, he specifically mentioned you and said you were a lovely little angel.” Zayev said earnestly.

Qi Mu: “…”

Farrell was really working tirelessly on his path creating a black history for him!

How much money did he owe Farrell in his last life!!!

With the participation of a cheerful chatterbox, the atmosphere became even livelier.

When Qi Mu left the hotel, Dorenza told him he was welcome to visit anytime.

The proposal was unanimously agreed upon by the members of the orchestra. They believed such a good and clever child could improve their aesthetic if he came over every day.

When Qi Mu got into the taxi and left, Dorenza looked at the departing cab and couldn’t help sigh out loud, “His and Lu’s violin. . . is similar but he’s even better than Lu. Now that this child is already excellent, the music world in the future will be lively, right?”

Zayev, standing at his side, looked at Dorenza in surprise and asked, “Dorenza, you think of Little Seven. . . this highly?”

Mr. Dorenza smiled and nodded, “Yes, Zayev. Don’t you think. . . If he had graduated from college, wouldn’t many excellent orchestras clamor for him to join? He’s excellent. Reed is lucky to have him as a student.

Zayev’s eyes widened, and he asked in disbelief, “Dorenza, aren’t you thinking a little too much? It’s his luck to be Reed’s student, right?”

Dorenza shook his head and refuted, “Zayev, wait and see. Three years at most. . . You will understand his strength, I think. Age has never been a measure for musical skill. Look at Christole, he’s also an excellent child. You can’t think too highly of yourself. Young blood is important to our classical music, ah!”

Dorenza didn’t dwell on the topic, but Zayev still pondered carefully with a frown. After Dorenza got in his car and left, Zayev walked alone in the empty streets of Vienna and whispered to himself: 

“He’s just a child. . . how far can he go?” 

“Dorenza’s really thought too much, how can there be so many Christole’s in this world.  . .”

Translator(s): Kuro
Editor(s): Empress, Ayn, Bet

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