"Alright."

Yu Yan straightened up and adjusted the large bohemian-style shawl.

"It's okay to vent this kind of thing occasionally."

If they actually go on stage, the audience buys tickets to see swans dance, not to see mad dogs bite people.

Hiding emotions within technique—that's art; having emotions without technique—that's just throwing a tantrum.

After saying that, she turned and walked towards the door.

Yu Yan paused as his hand touched the doorknob.

She didn't turn around; her back was to the two of them, and her voice drifted over softly:

"And also, Lin Que, right?"

"Next time you lie for someone else, please make it sound more believable."

In that chaotic piece just now, the accuracy of the left-hand octave leaps was 100%.

The pedal shifts, though rapid, were never muddy.

"Don't treat me like an amateur who doesn't know anything about the piano."

Click.

The door closed.

The lounge returned to silence, with only the faint sound of the fresh air system.

Lin Que leaned against the wall and let out a long breath.

He reached up and wiped away non-existent cold sweat from his forehead.

"This old lady has a really sharp eye."

Ye Xi remained seated on the piano bench, seemingly frozen in place.

She stared blankly at the closed door, Yu Yan's words echoing in her mind.

"Lin Que..."

Ye Xi's voice trembled slightly.

"Did she...did she already realize it?"

"nonsense."

Lin Que rolled his eyes, walked over and plopped down on the floor next to him.

"He is a professor at Jinling Academy of Fine Arts, and he has made a living in this field for most of his life."

Although your performance just now was a bit haphazard, your basic skills are undeniable.

It's like asking a calligraphy master to scribble randomly; the strength and power of the lines will be completely different from that of an elementary school student.

"She clearly recognized my voice... Given her temper, shouldn't she have given me a severe dressing down?"

"Insult you? Didn't she just insult you?"

It was all noise, like rabid dogs biting people.

Lin Que pulled out a mint candy he had casually tucked into his pocket when he left home.

Peel it open, throw it into your mouth, and crunch it to pieces.

"But she didn't make you stop. Because she genuinely wanted you to understand something."

Lin Que chewed on his candy and mumbled indistinctly:

"Although Professor Yu has a strange temper, he is different from those teachers who only look at exam certificates."

She truly understands art and genuinely cherishes talent.

"Her words were meant for me, but they were actually meant to be directed at you."

Lin Que pointed to the black Steinway.

"Didn't you say before that this piece of music was like a headband for you?"

Because you've always treated it like a task, like an exam.

Ye Xi nodded.

"This piece is very difficult. When Rachmaninoff wrote it, he had just emerged from severe depression."

That was his struggle in the mire of despair, his roar against fate, his yearning to live.

Lin Que stood up, walked to Ye Xi, and placed his hands on either side of the piano keys.

"Perhaps the energy you had when you were cursing just now is the soul of this piece."

Ye Xi stared blankly at Lin Que.

It felt like something exploded in my mind.

She has always pursued the ultimate precision when playing this piece.

The articulation of each note, the breath of each musical phrase,

She was like a sculptor carving a piece of jade, afraid of even the slightest flaw.

But she knew herself,

The reason I avoided that piece of music was because I always felt that something was missing.

Until today, until that rampage just now, until Yu Yan's words, "It was all just venting."

She finally understood.

What she lacks is not skill, but precisely that "dirty" thing.

It was that imperfection, that anger, that urge to smash the piano.

"I...I understand."

The confusion in Ye Xi's eyes vanished instantly.

Instead, it was replaced by a light unlike any other.

"I know what's wrong!"

...