Chapter 7
Then sell it to me.
Chi Ran's first reaction was that he had misheard, or that she was talking to someone else, so he ignored her.
To everyone's surprise, Little Pink took a few more steps forward and raised her voice, saying, "I'm talking to you!"
"What is that?" Chi Ran didn't even have time to get angry, and said inexplicably, "Say it again."
“Then sell yourself to me,” she said again.
Chi Ran tilted her head: "Are you crazy?"
"Are you out of your mind?" she retorted sharply, as if she'd swallowed a gun. "Didn't you say you wanted to sell yourself?"
Chi Ran was initially very angry, but at this moment she felt even more confused about the situation and conversation.
What exactly is she trying to do?
Are you looking for trouble?
"Did I talk to you? Do you even know what boundaries are?" Chi Ran retorted, "Little Pink."
"You understand boundaries, but you insult people online without any musical knowledge?" she retorted. "Ember?"
Chi Ran was taken aback, then realized what she meant and said, "You're the one... who changed my score?"
"Are you sick in the head? You're making a big deal out of a casual snapshot, and you talk so rudely, you'd have to sell yourself for a discount!!" she practically yelled. "You have no manners at all!! You're rude online, and you're rude in person!!! You should sell yourself to save up some money to buy some manners!!"
Chi Ran could feel her yelling and jumping up and down.
The symbols on the internet transformed into pink popping candy that exploded with lightning speed; the visceral impact left him momentarily stunned, forgetting to even refute them.
She continued yelling relentlessly, "You said you wanted to sell yourself, so sell me! Apologize to my fans, apologize to my roommate, apologize to me!" she went on.
Chi Ran was still in a daze.
There's no logic in what she's saying; is she just looking for a fight?
"Apologize!"
Song Yihuan had no idea what she was saying.
She made many video calls to Ms. Wang, continuing until the visiting hours ended, but no one answered, leaving her feeling extremely frustrated.
I was delivering groceries when I bumped into him on the phone, and he was talking rudely. On a whim, I rushed over to him.
She always felt a strange, unsettling feeling in her chest, something that couldn't go up or down, making her feel uncomfortable all over.
I can't shed tears, and I can't get angry.
I just want to find someone to argue with, preferably to fight, so I can feel alive and forget the tightness in my chest.
To everyone's surprise, Chi Ran listened to her words in a daze, then suddenly burst out laughing, a rather helpless laugh.
After laughing, he said, "Are you trying to pick a fight, Little Pink?"
It felt like punching cotton; she felt an even tighter tightness in her chest.
He wanted to say something more, but Song Yihuan didn't bother with him anymore. Unable to stay any longer, she turned and ran out through the fire escape.
Chi Ran watched the hazy pink hue disappear quickly and sighed.
He was already in a bad mood, and according to his usual temper, he would have already started a big argument with her, insisting on clarifying every single thing. But inexplicably, when he heard her trembling voice at the end, all his anger disappeared.
Because she was venting.
This illogical outburst felt strangely familiar to him.
To a salesperson: "What's the point of confirming the model and color? If I could see the model and color, why would I buy a white cane?"
To a Didi driver: "I'm blind, how would I know whether to turn left or right?"
...
This feeling of harboring resentment and then seeking out more resentment is all too familiar.
He was so familiar with it that he forgot to get angry.
Song Yihuan didn't even ride her electric scooter; she swung her arms and ran all the way to the entrance of the residential area. She was extremely out of shape, and when she arrived, her vision was blurry, she was breathing rapidly, her mask was soaked with sweat, and her lungs felt like they were about to burst.
The body's lack of oxygen sends a warning signal, naturally suppressing that feeling of blockage.
She carried several large bags of group-buying items in her hands and walked back on foot.
After delivering the goods to each household in the building, she was covered in sweat. The early spring wind was a bit chilly, so she quickly took the elevator home.
Stepping out of the elevator, she felt alternating chills and fever, and quickened her pace towards her doorstep.
"Hey." Someone called her softly from behind, and she turned around, leaning against the door.
Her vision blurred and she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. She hadn't walked more than a few steps before she completely lost consciousness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in an unfamiliar place, lying on an unfamiliar sofa. The environment looked like someone else's living room.
"You're awake!" Qian Yu said.
Song Yihuan was startled: "I'm in your house?"
She tried to sit up, but she felt too heavy and couldn't. Looking down, she saw that she was covered with a thick quilt.
"It's so hot." She lifted it to the side.
"Brother Ran said if you wear a skirt, he'll find you something to cover yourself with," Qian Yu said.
Chi Ran sat opposite him on the sofa, showing no intention of speaking.
Qian Yu: "You suddenly fainted just now, and your roommate called 120 and ran to the main gate to pick up the ambulance."
"120?" Song Yihuan's eyes widened. "Why call 120? I just haven't eaten all day."
She quickly called Guoguo.
Luckily she woke up quickly, otherwise she would have been taken away.
"Are you really okay?" Guoguo said. "Your face was so pale, it scared me to death."
Song Yihuan sighed, "It's not that exaggerated, I'm just hungry."
"Sure?"
"Sure!"
"Then I'll tell the ambulance not to come. You should eat something first."
After hanging up the phone, Qian Yu thoughtfully brought her a bowl of porridge. "Have some first? It's fresh out of the pot."
"Spicy soup? Hot and sour soup? Sesame paste?" Song Yihuan took a sip, then spat it back before she could even swallow it.
She looked at the mushy mess in the bowl, then at Qian Yu. She pursed her lips, savoring the lingering, strange taste. A thousand words condensed into one: "Huh?"
"It's just scrambled eggs with tomatoes," he said. "You told me to fry the eggs first, but it still turned into a soup, so I just added some flour, soy sauce, oyster sauce, and stuff. Is it really that bad?"
Song Yihuan had eight hundred complaints, but every single one sounded like she was repaying kindness with enmity. She pursed her lips again, pointed to the bowl, and said, "Sorry, I'll get you a new bowl later."
"It's okay, I'm not good at cooking, it's common for me to put food in my mouth and then spit it back out."
Song Yihuan looked at the bowl in her hand, pursed her lips, and felt like vomiting again.
Undeterred, Qian Yu brought out another plate of dark-colored stuff: "Want some stir-fried chicken with potatoes?"
"Black chicken?" Song Yihuan asked.
"No, I put in a bit too much dark soy sauce," Qian Yu said. "But I tasted it, and it's crispy and crunchy, not bad."
Song Yihuan couldn't bring herself to do it.
Chi Ran finally spoke up: "Give her a piece of rock candy."
"Okay." Qian Yu was quite disappointed that he hadn't managed to sell the food.
The living room was dimly lit, and Chi Ran couldn't see any powder; he could only determine Song Yihuan's location by sound.
She spoke in a hurried and somewhat cautious manner, probably because she felt embarrassed.
He was being rather unethical, wondering whether he should call her "Little Pink" to make her even more flustered.
Just like that day in the elevator, when he suddenly turned around in a panic.
Even the elevator started shaking; it was really fun.
Perhaps it was his wicked thoughts that made her notice the sudden rustling sound of fabric coming from the sofa, followed by footsteps.
She said, "Then I'll head back now!"
Her footsteps hurried through the living room as she headed for the door. As she passed his bedroom door, the light shone on her, and he vaguely sensed a pink flame within her.
The flames shot out a few steps, then reversed back into the light, returning to his visible range.
Did they turn back halfway through their escape?
What is she doing?
"That's... an antique piano??" Her voice was loud, full of surprise.
“Yeah, it’s Ran Ge’s.” Qian Yu said.
"Is it alive??" She's so noisy.
Chi Ran took a breath: "If you mean 'living' and it means whether it can grow legs and run around, then it's not living."
"Oh." Sensing his displeasure, her tone immediately softened. "Then... I'll be going now."
Song Yihuan didn't even look at the door; she walked slowly, her eyes fixed on the piano.
The antique piano had a rustic appearance, and the keys were about the same height as an electronic keyboard. They had listened to it from behind the wall, and its tone was very clear.
I'm so envious.
Chi Ran sighed.
She said she would leave first, but the pink flame in her sight was still moving slowly, inch by inch, taking one step forward and half a step back.
They are clearly not moving.
The words to kick him out were already on the tip of his tongue, but as if possessed, Chi Ran heard himself say, "Want to see?"
The pink flames froze in place. He couldn't see her, but he could feel that she was standing perfectly straight.
"You can go in and take a look, but don't touch anything." He paused for a moment after saying that, then added, "Little Pink."
“My name is Song Yihuan.” She stood next to the antique piano, staring intently at it, and casually added.
She whispered, "Wow."
The aged walnut wood doesn't appear old at all; instead, it has a faint sheen, and the carvings on the sides are worn away and unrecognizable. Compared to pianos on the market, it doesn't resemble a musical instrument; it's more like an old object that tells a story of bygone years.
Song Yihuan examined it carefully for a moment and asked, "This... doesn't have a foot pedal?"
"Um."
Chi Ran got up and walked to the door, still walking on tiptoe, and successfully reached the piano.
He placed his hand on the piano keys, gently touched them, and pointed to the plectrum in the center of the piano, "The mute plectrum is here."
Song Yihuan had seen antique pianos before, but never one like this. She touched the small round wooden lever she called the "plectrum," and found it to be quite peculiar.
She exclaimed "Wow!"
“You can play it,” he said.
Song Yihuan was eager to play, and having received approval, she skipped the formalities and sat down without saying a word to start playing a simple etude.
But the tone is off, the rhythm is off, the fingertips are off, and even the piano bench I'm sitting on seems wrong.
Chi Ran laughed out loud, "You're learning the electronic keyboard?"
Song Yihuan admitted dejectedly, "Yes."
"You have a really strong grip."
He casually demonstrated beside her, his fingers dancing, light shining through his suspended palms, accompanying his fingers as if they were alive.
Song Yihuan listened intently, barely daring to breathe, her heart pounding.
After he finished playing, he raised his hand and said, "Be gentle, the keys are hard to match."
The little flame of emotion in Song Yihuan's heart was instantly extinguished. Taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see, she glared at him fiercely.
She loosely grasped the piano and tried again. The sound was no longer dull, but it still wasn't as light and graceful as Chi Ran's playing.
She hesitated for a moment, looked at him, but didn't say anything or play the piano again.
As if she could read minds, Chi Ran suddenly asked, "Would you like me to play a piece for you?"
Song Yihuan nodded vigorously, then after a while, she realized what she meant and shouted loudly, "Yes!!!"
“I’m blind, not deaf.” Chi Ran gestured for her to stand up.
Song Yihuan stole another glance at him, standing by the piano. As she touched the iPad on the piano, she blurted out, "You want to use the iPad to look at sheet music..."
Emergency braking.
Chi Ran laughed again: "I'm blind."
“…I’m sorry,” Song Yihuan said in a low, mosquito-like voice.
Chi Ran didn't pay attention and instead said, "Put the iPad back where it was."
"Huh?" Song Yihuan quickly realized that he had put it back so it would be easier to find. "Oh, okay, I'll put it back."
"You really like classical piano?" he asked.
"I love the piano and I wanted to learn it when I was little, but pianos were too expensive, so I learned to use the electronic keyboard instead," she said.
"Hmm." He casually tapped a key to locate it, then hovered his hand over the key and asked, "What do you want to listen to?"
Song Yihuan was taken aback. "I'll choose?"
Tell me about it.
“Icarus,” Song Yihuan replied immediately.
She had heard him play before, but only through a wall, and she loved it. She never imagined she would actually hear him play live.
His hands danced across the keys a few times, perhaps positioning them, and then the melody of Icarus flowed naturally and lightly from his fingertips.
The classical piano melody is more lingering and lively, giving this already free song an added touch of unrestrainedness and flamboyance.
A deer leaps in the afterglow, morning sunlight filters through the clouds, and the wind carries the scents of the distant past across the valley.
Ever since she couldn't get through on video in the afternoon, Song Yihuan had felt a tightness in her chest. It felt like stagnant water was pounding against her chest with every movement, occasionally threatening to drown her, making it hard to breathe.
At this moment, the stagnant water suddenly began to ripple and flow.
Chi Ran's fingertips danced freely on the piano keys, following only the voice in her heart, without adhering to any rules or rhythm.
As his fingertips moved from the mid-range to the low-range, he felt a dampness.
Chi Ran was taken aback for a moment, but continued playing.
When he entered the lower register for the second time, he couldn't play any further. His fingers stopped abruptly, and the room slowly fell silent.
Because the dampness had settled on the back of his hand.
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