6. Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2
◎A conversation no one knows◎
Ms. Ma returned from Paris, bursting into the house like a whirlwind. She opened her arms wide and shouted in the tone of a theatrical heroine, "Baby! My muse! I'm home!"
Liang Chuling was coming downstairs, holding a wet wipe for cleaning the violin cloth, when her mother hugged her.
"Mom, she strangled me," Liang Chuling said in a muffled voice.
Ms. Ma released her, cupped her face, and looked her over from left to right: "Oh dear, have you lost weight? You don't look too good either. Have you not been eating properly? Aunt Zhang! Aunt Zhang!"
Liang Chuling brushed her hand away: "Aunt Zhang went out. I'm fine. Did you have fun?"
"Happy, of course I'm happy!" Ms. Ma's attention was diverted, and she began to talk at length about what she had seen and heard.
At dinner, Liang's father was still absent, without needing to give a reason.
There were only the mother and daughter at the table.
Seeing that her daughter still had a good appetite, Ms. Ma couldn't help but smile. Ms. Ma was from Zhejiang. When she was a child, she had a very poor appetite and didn't like to eat. Her grandparents were afraid that she wouldn't survive, so they cut her palm with a knife and squeezed out some pale yellow to white stuff.
The custom there is called "picking the liver," which means that squeezing out this part will improve a child's appetite.
It's hard to say whether this method actually works, but later, if Ms. Ma refused to eat, the adults would threaten her: "If you don't eat, we'll cut your hand again."
Ms. Ma was so frightened that she started to eat it anyway.
After growing up, going to Beijing to study, getting married, and making her own decisions, Ms. Ma's poor appetite resurfaced. She even faced danger during the birth of Liang Chuling due to malnutrition.
So when Ms. Ma saw her daughter's good appetite from childhood to adulthood, she felt good, she felt wonderful, and she felt happy.
Liang Chuling lived up to expectations. During a piano exam in elementary school, she had to play a French suite to fill the time limit, which was extremely difficult to memorize. When memorizing the three-part and four-part sections, she easily misremembered the left-hand part, causing her to break the piece. Liang Chuling was both impatient and angry, and even threatened to smash the piano. Later, after her teacher treated her to Xinjiang barbecue, she immediately calmed down and went back to memorizing the score.
Thinking of this, Madam Ma was about to laugh again. After laughing, she looked at her daughter across from her, put down her chopsticks, and said, "Chuling, Mom wants to talk to you."
Liang Chuling didn't look up. "What are you talking about?"
Although she asked a question, she could guess what her mother wanted to talk to her about, and she also knew that even if she didn't reply, her mother would continue the topic.
"The adults at home didn't handle things well. I know it made you uncomfortable. You might have thought what I said last time was wrong."
Liang Chuling remained silent.
Ms. Ma sighed: "Honey, Mommy is your mommy first and foremost. No matter what kind of person I am, whether I love beauty, I'm playful, or I like shopping, that will never change."
She reached out, across the table, and covered Liang Chuling's hand.
“The adult world is sometimes complicated, with many messy threads tangled together, impossible to untangle. But those are adult problems, not yours. Mom doesn’t want our conflicts to affect you.”
Liang Chuling raised her head and looked at her mother.
Ms. Ma's makeup was still exquisite, but there was a seriousness in her eyes that she rarely showed, and the dramatic flamboyance had faded away.
“Your life has just begun. Don’t let anything or anyone become a burden on your wings. You were born to fly very, very high,” Mrs. Ma continued, her tone regaining a touch of playfulness. “Your stage is the world, not this mess at home. You have to look forward and move upward. That’s what matters! Mom will take care of everything else.”
Geniuses are not unaware of their own abilities, but how can a young genius not be influenced by his family when he steps onto the stage?
In other words, in today's environment, it is difficult for a genius to become a genius without the support of their family.
And once you're supported by your family, how can you not be influenced by them?
It's impossible for people not to be affected.
Therefore, Liang Chuling's understanding will be influenced by her family's understanding, and her family's understanding will be influenced by society's understanding.
If a person's identity perception doesn't change, it's difficult for their brain to change its way of thinking. A person is lighter than sand, more fragile than glass, and easier to stain than canvas. At the same time, because she is a woman, her path is actually narrower than the path of "human beings."
Liang Chuling looked at her mother and knew that her mother's words contained comfort, a way to divert attention, and perhaps something else, but the core message of wanting her to be well was genuine.
Moreover, her father has now cheated on her, and her mother only has her left.
"You're the only one your mother is counting on to support her. Once you become the person you want to be, I'll kick your dad to the curb."
Perhaps her mother said it jokingly, but Liang Chuling took it to heart. With her current abilities, if she wanted to make money, she could hold a few solo concerts or take on some endorsements—it would be quick and respectable. But what her mother meant was that Liang Chuling should be herself. Where she wanted to go in the future, what kind of person she wanted to become. That was so difficult, so very difficult.
Liang Chuling grasped her mother's hand in return, nodded, and could only make a promise that wasn't too difficult for now: "I know. I will fly very high."
There seems to be a popular saying online: "Others care about how high you fly, but the people who love you care about how tired you are from flying."
Liang Chuling scoffed.
Of course I'm tired. But if you care whether I'm tired or not, does that mean I'm not tired either?
Your concern about whether I'm tired actually affects whether I can fly higher.
Even those who can fly get tired. But that's the price to pay.
I accept, I declare, I exchange, I enter, I conquer.
She was never someone who could be defeated.
It's not that we can be easily defeated, but rather that we will not be defeated.
Liang Chuling was fully prepared to succeed.
Yes, one must be prepared for success in order to truly embrace it.
This is Liang Chuling's own truth.
She believed in herself, so unwaveringly.
So when Li Chi presented her with the rules of an international competition, Liang Chuling's heart beat steadily, filled with anticipation, like the anticipation a conductor feels when raising their hand before a musical movement begins.
The competition is fierce, and all the participants are geniuses, so the stage is dazzling enough.
The competition is held every five years, and the next one will be held in December of the year after next.
The website's registration system will open next March.
Li Chi said a few more words: "For you, technique is not the problem. You are very smart, and I hope you can be even smarter. The hardest part of playing the piano is never finishing the piece, but the way you interpret it. This competition hasn't had a first-place winner in twenty years, and I hope you can win first place."
Liang Chuling nodded; she understood.
The video recording needs to be submitted for the application by next March. Time is very tight.
The practice was tedious and intense.
Every night before going to bed, her hands would shake uncontrollably. Fortunately, Liang Chuling's sleep quality was as good as her appetite, and she could fall asleep even while shaking.
Liang Chuling seemed somewhat detached, yet she couldn't pinpoint what was affecting her. Hadn't she accepted everything?
She began practicing a new piece, this time Chopin's Nocturne.
After listening, Li Chi asked, "Are you imitating Rubinstein's version?"
Liang Chuling has indeed been listening to Rubinstein's recordings repeatedly lately.
Li Chi continued, “Imitation is not a bad thing, but you can’t just stop at imitation. What you’re playing now isn’t Chopin’s nocturne, but Rubinstein’s interpretation of Chopin’s nocturne. What about your own interpretation? What are you trying to say? You don’t just want to play it well, you want to play it perfectly.”
That afternoon, Liang Chuling was introduced to a visiting Polish piano professor in Li Chi's practice room. The professor was Li Chi's own teacher from the United States.
Li Chi had Liang Chuling play the etude she had prepared.
The professor applauded after listening and said in accented English, "Excellent technique! Amazing finger dexterity and control! It's just that the music sounds a little too right. It lacks a bit of earthy feeling. You're playing Chopin, but Chopin's music is rooted in Polish soil and suffering."
Li Chi didn't say anything at the time. After the professor finished instructing him for a lesson and left, only the teacher and student remained in the music room.
Liang Chuling stood there, not defeated, but more confused and resentful.
What's wrong with her playing?
She handled every note flawlessly!
"Feeling wronged?" Li Chi looked at her.
"Did I play it wrong?" Liang Chuling asked back, with her characteristic stubbornness.
“No. Technically you are impeccable, but your playing is still not perfect,” Li Chi said calmly.
Liang Chuling frowned.
The idea was too abstract; it flickered in her mind for a moment, but it didn't illuminate the path ahead.
Perfection—that has always been Li Chi's requirement for her.
Liang Chuling finally asked, puzzled, "What is perfection? Why can you define perfection?"
Li Chi smiled and glanced out the window: "Very good question. Liang Chuling, the perfection I demand must be the perfection I define, my subjective perfection."
"What people ultimately need to follow is only their own subjectivity. Nietzsche said that there is no truth in the world, only perspective. Therefore, there is no objectivity in the world. All the standards, rules, and correctness that we talk about are subjective."
She turned back to Liang Chuling and said, "It's a pity that you don't have the subjective ability to convince me right now. The purpose of my teaching you is to hope that one day you can use Liang Chuling's subjective ability to convince everyone."
——
Li Xun is finally here today; he didn't come to the last class.
Liang Chuling learned from Li Chi that it was because his school had periodic exams, and since he wasn't attending a music-affiliated high school, he was always busier.
Liang Chuling's life trajectory is actually very fixed. From primary school to high school, her entire world radius is drawn with her home and music room as the center.
Li Xun is different; in his life, the piano is an important component, but not the only one.
Therefore, he does indeed have his own time management system, like a well-structured fugue, with appropriate arrangements that do not conflict with each other.
Li Xun was looking at a tree outside the window, moving his eyes and fingers, pinching his little finger.
This tree is different from the one outside Liang Chuling's music room before; this is a boxwood.
Broad and tall, beautiful and lively.
When the two of them had their lesson together today, the atmosphere in the music room was very tense, and Li Chi's requirements were extremely strict.
But Liang Chuling didn't mind; in fact, she felt that having Li Xun by her side to train together actually helped alleviate the anxiety of preparing for the competition.
Seeing him also working hard to overcome difficulties, seeing him repeatedly practice a technical segment until it is perfect, Liang Chuling feels a subtle sense of camaraderie and even more affection for him.
She appreciates hard work without any pretense.
Music education in China is rigorous, with a serious attitude and strict standards regarding finger technique. It is a three-way race between talent, effort, and resources.
So when Liang Chuling learned that Li Xun was also going to participate, she was overjoyed! She admires people who have clear goals and work hard for them.
In her heart, Li Xun was no longer just Li Chi's son. He had keen observation skills and a good sense of music, and she felt that he should go further on the path of piano.
The world of art is not only for those at the very top of the pyramid; those who strive to pursue their dreams are themselves shining.
Besides, who says Li Xun isn't top-tier!
Liang Chuling walked over, plopped down next to him, and sighed.
Seeing her unusually dejected appearance, Li Xun asked, "What's wrong?"
What is the soul?
Li Xun said, "Do you remember that piece we played together for two pianos before?"
"I remember. What's wrong?"
"In the second piano part, there are a few measures that are very steady, then suddenly a small, dissonant chord jumps out. Do you remember?"
Liang Chuling recalled for a moment and nodded.
“When I first sight-read it, I wanted to play it softly to cover it up and make it sound more harmonious,” Li Xun said. “But my mother said, don’t cover it up. That dissonance is the most authentic expression in the music at that moment. It’s not a mistake, it’s the breath that the composer deliberately left for that piece, and it’s the soul of the piece.”
"Forget that you are playing a great piano piece, and try to feel their hesitation, determination, and sighs."
Liang Chuling was still processing the idea when a gust of wind blew in through the window, knocking several loose sheets of sheet music she had placed on the piano bench to the ground, with a few sliding under the piano.
"Hey!" Liang Chuling quickly squatted down to pick it up.
The area under the piano was dimly lit. She groped around, her fingers finding the printer paper and a thick sheet of paper.
She fished it out too.
It is a musical staff.
The penmanship was Li Xun's. Liang Chuling recognized it.
But she had never seen this sheet music before.
The melody is unique, beginning with a few floating single notes before chords creep in, like the night enveloping the scene. The middle section is exciting, with the melody struggling, yet it falls back just before reaching its climax, ultimately returning to tranquility.
There are also a few Chinese annotations on the edge of the sheet music:
"Star Ring."
"Deep River".
"A conversation no one knows about."
Liang Chuling stuffed all the scores, including the manuscript, into her music folder, stood up, and casually said goodbye to Li Xun.
Since I'm already a bad person anyway, Liang Chuling is more at peace with herself this time.
When she got home, she immediately went into the music room to recreate that melody.
This piece isn't quite right. The harmonic progressions don't conform to textbooks in some places, and the structure is rather arbitrary. But it possesses a primal power, an unadorned storytelling.
It doesn't try to be a model; it is simply itself.
This is perfect... Liang Chuling couldn't help but think, this really is perfect, it's what Liang Chuling considers perfect.
Did Li Xun write this?
Yesterday was Friday, and this week's weekend classes are on Sunday.
When she went there, Liang Chuling felt like a secret agent.
Li Xun is still here.
After class, Liang Chuling did not go to the door, but sat down at the piano.
Li Xun looked up at her, assuming she still had practice to do.
Liang Chuling didn't play Chopin, but instead played a melody from the manuscript.
The moment the notes began, Li Xun froze.
For the first time, a look of surprise appeared on his face.
Liang Chuling stopped after playing a short piece.
She looked at Li Xun, excited and certain: "Li Xun, is this your soul?"
She pointed to the piano, which was her accomplice.
Li Xun looked at her, at Liang Chuling, who was so direct that she was almost reckless, and who was always full of life.
He has no way to hide.
Remembering that he wanted her to be happy, and that she did indeed seem very happy, Li Xun didn't want to spoil her mood.
So Li Xun casually and nonchalantly told Liang Chuling, "Yes. The little genius found out."
"I knew it!" Liang Chuling almost jumped up, and began to threaten, "You have other ones, right? Hurry up and play them for me!"
Li Xun walked to the piano. He stood there without sitting down and pressed the notes.
A passage, different from the previous one in its gentleness, flows with more exploratory phrases. It is not as smooth and brilliant as Liang Chuling's playing, but the sincerity of the emotions constructs a moving world.
Liang Chuling rarely loses focus when listening to piano music. But at this moment, she does, because she hears Li Xun expressing himself to her.
He was showing her his naked self, and she was the first and only listener.
This was a conversation that no one knew about.
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