BTFB chapter 8

Two weeks after the start of the school year, Bian Liming received the notification of entering the finals, along with a list of pieces to prepare for the final round.

The finals were scheduled for a month later, to be held at the Lin Cang Concert Hall in the city. Participants were required to attend the performance in formal attire, and the competition would also be filmed.

The email outlined the specific competition process. The pieces for the final performance were not chosen by the participants from the list; instead, they would be decided by a draw on the spot before going on stage. The duration of the pieces was generally around three minutes (excluding the possibility of participants wanting to show off their skills and accelerating the pace, further shortening the time), and participants couldn’t specify or change the pieces.

To enhance the richness and interest of the competition, the organizers explicitly stated in the email that there would be an impromptu Q&A session for the participants. There were no fixed questions for this session; everything would be decided on-site by the host or judges. At the same time, the email emphasized that, in principle, the performance in this session would not affect scoring or awards.

After receiving the confirmation email, Bian Liming began to systematically “conquer” the pieces on the list. Since it was a competitive event, the designated pieces by the organizers were not to be underestimated in terms of difficulty. Two short études by Liszt, one with a rhythm of six pairs of eight beats by Beethoven, and a piano solo version adapted from Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto… a total of eight pieces, deliberately avoiding those commonly practiced by art students.

Bian Liming dared not waste a single day, planning the practice order from the beginning, borrowing classrooms, and organizing his time, making every effort at each step.

During this period, he still invited Zhao Yuan for coffee every morning.

He didn’t go from the dorm to the coffee shop but came directly from the piano practice room, showing up at the coffee shop with heavy dark circles under his eyes, waiting for Zhao Yuan.

At first, seeing Bian Liming like this, Zhao Yuan felt a bit anxious, “Are you sure you can keep going like this?”

Bian Liming, like drinking plain water or taking cold medicine, drank his iced Americano expressionlessly, one sip at a time, “There’s no other way. I can only book the orchestra rehearsal room at this time, from midnight to dawn.”

Zhao Yuan didn’t understand, “Why? Why do you have to book the orchestra rehearsal room? Regular practice rooms should be fine!”

Bian Liming, with closed eyes, shook his head slightly while still sipping his iced coffee, not bothering to open his eyes while explaining to Zhao Yuan, “No, you can’t. The pianos in regular practice rooms are upright pianos, and they’re very old, with poor intonation and tone quality. It’s a disaster. Occasionally using them for assignments is one thing, but they are absolutely inadequate for competitions. Besides, at home, I practice on a grand piano, and I’m more used to the volume, positioning, and the feel of the keys on a grand piano. It’s more comfortable to play.”

Zhao Yuan felt that Bian Liming could even fall asleep in the coffee shop holding an iced Americano with a straw in his mouth.

He reached out and pushed Bian Liming’s arm, “When do you sleep then? Skip classes?”

Bian Liming opened his eyes, holding the coffee cup with both hands, allowing the ice to chill his palms to help wake himself up a bit, “Just… sleep when there are no classes. There are too few people in our class. The teacher can tell at a glance who didn’t come. No one dares to skip classes.”

Later on, when Bian Liming would invite Zhao Yuan for coffee, Zhao Yuan’s first words would always be, “Sleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

Bian Liming never hesitated to let Zhao Yuan help him with ordering his coffee. It changed from iced to room temperature, sometimes held in his hands, and with a straw, he would fall asleep.

Zhao Yuan would go over, take away the coffee, put it back on the table, and quietly enjoy his unchanging cappuccino on the opposite seat.

Time passed quickly for both Bian Liming and Zhao Yuan.

Zhao Yuan watched people passing by outside the coffee shop window, their clothes getting thinner, and the bushes by the roadside being washed by continuous spring rain, becoming vibrant. The tree by Bian Liming’s yard, a magnolia tree, he deliberately paid attention to one time when passing by—it had completely lost its flowers, leaving only varied shades of green.

On the day of the competition, Bian Liming, as a participant, received two tickets for the live performance. Since Bian Liqin was on a business trip to the independent state of Honshu and hadn’t returned, both tickets were given to his father. However, there was no guarantee that his father would come.

As for Zhao Yuan, Bian Liming directly asked him to accompany him backstage, help with safeguarding valuable items, and fetch the sheet music.

Backstage on the day of the competition was chaotic. Many participants and limited makeup tables and changing rooms, coupled with each participant bringing their “competition assistant,” made for a noisy environment.

Bian Liming and Zhao Yuan had no choice. They simply found a corner to change clothes hastily, did a quick hair fix, applied a bit of makeup, and the styling was done.

Bian Liming mentioned that he wanted to take another look at the sheet music. Zhao Yuan found the sheet music and asked him to look at it while he went to the smoking room for a cigarette.

The Lin Cang Concert Hall’s smoking room was small, without tables and chairs, and was not particularly clean compared to the outside. The floor wasn’t even tiled or had a floor covering, so no one chose to change clothes here.

Zhao Yuan pushed open the door, walked to the window, tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. He stood by the window and lit a cigarette.

The smoking room was indeed much quieter than outside. In a short while, just as he was about to finish his cigarette, the ventilation fan in the smoking room automatically started buzzing.

Zhao Yuan had actually not been smoking regularly for a while and almost had no sudden cravings for a cigarette. He couldn’t even finish a pack in a month. But on this particular day, he suddenly felt the urge to smoke.

It was a feeling of helplessness and panic. Feeling completely idle in a certain space, not knowing what to do, very nervous. So, to alleviate the boredom through smoking, and seeking a little bit of meager fulfillment and security.

He didn’t analyze thoroughly why he felt this way, and by the time he realized it, he had already finished smoking one cigarette.

He hesitated for a moment, took another cigarette from the pack, and lit it.

Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep drag and exhaled a long puff. When he opened his eyes, the ash had accumulated halfway.

Suddenly, the smoking room’s door was pushed open again. Accompanied by the noisy sounds, along with Bian Liming, who was already dressed up and sorted, came in.

Bian Liming walked to Zhao Yuan’s side and handed him the sheet music:

“Help me put it away.”

Zhao Yuan flicked off the ash, carefully rearranged the sheet music, and then continued to face the window, silently smoking.

“I want some too.” Bian Liming turned to him, his gaze fixed on his lips: “I’m a bit nervous.”

Zhao Yuan was startled, held the cigarette in his lips, and reached into his pocket for the cigarette pack. Before he could find it, Bian Liming took the half-smoked cigarette away.

Wide-eyed, Zhao Yuan looked up at him. Bian Liming had already put the cigarette in his mouth. When he opened his lips, a loose puff of white smoke emerged.

Zhao Yuan didn’t know if he should remind Bian Liming at this moment that this was a cigarette he had already smoked, with his saliva on it.

Did Bian Liming not mind?

The itching sensation in Zhao Yuan’s lungs instantly transferred to the tip of his heart, and even his throat was throbbing vigorously.

But he didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t dare to look directly at Bian Liming’s face. He could only turn back to the original direction, pretending to look outside the window.

But, there was nothing outside the window. Only the wall of the concert hall—a wall of very boring white quartz.

That half-cigarette was smoked by Bian Liming.

Bian Liming extinguished the cigarette, supported the window sill with the base of his palms, and took a deep breath:

“Forget it! Whether my dad comes or not, i’ll just play well in the competition. Nervousness is useless…”

He looked at Zhao Yuan, self-deprecatingly smiling.

After the participants went through the routine backstage, the competition proceeded as scheduled. However, the agonizing boredom before the competition did not end, and Bian Liming’s performance order was relatively late. He and Zhao Yuan waited backstage for quite a while.

Later, when he finally went on stage, there was a draw for the performance order. He drew an adapted piece of Chopin’s “Winter Wind.” The organizers retained the right-hand scale run while adding challenging chord transitions to the left hand.

These explanations were what Zhao Yuan had heard Bian Liming say before. He didn’t really understand the meaning behind them. Listening to Bian Liming playing on stage, he just felt that the piece was complicated, and it was hard to distinguish whether it was good or bad.

It wasn’t until Bian Liming took his bow that he saw his expression, and most of his worries were relieved. He knew Bian Liming had performed quite well.

After a brief stay backstage, all performances were over. During the time waiting for the score calculation results, the so-called “impromptu Q&A” session began.

Neither of them knew what was happening. They just heard someone backstage shout “first 10,” and Bian Liming, along with a few others, was inexplicably pushed to the stage. As applause erupted from the audience, they walked onto the stage.

It turned out not only the questions were impromptu, even the participants in this session were impromptu.

Bian Liming knew that this competition was only in its first year, and the organizers themselves must have many unfamiliar aspects. So, he was a bit stunned for a moment but quickly adjusted his mindset. With a calm demeanor, he cooperated with the host, introducing himself along with the other participants on stage.

Then came a chaotic and miscellaneous question time. Some judges asked about personal experiences and growth, some inquired about the impressions and understanding of the pieces and the competition. The questions were varied, and Bian Liming felt that this session was somewhat meaningless.

When it was his turn, he was already in a relaxed state. He was highly confident that even if the organizers changed their minds at the last minute and considered the performance in the Q&A session during the awards, these performances had absolutely no quantifiable standards.

So, just answer casually! As long as he didn’t embarrass himself.

“… Mr. Bian Liming,” the judge holding the microphone, not very skilled, asked, “Can you share your thoughts on the name of Lin Cang Concert Hall? What does this name mean to you? What significance do you see in this name?”

Bian Liming quickly glanced at the nameplate in front of this judge—Zhou Jieyuan, Performance Manager of Lin Cang Concert Hall.

He knew that Lin Cang Concert Hall was a newly built concert hall in recent years, and its popularity had not yet risen. If the performance manager could be a judge, there was a high probability that Lin Cang Concert Hall had also sponsored this competition.

Although Lin Cang Concert Hall was newly established, Lin Cang High School had been around for a long time. Bian Liming was not unfamiliar with the term “Lin Cang,” and he didn’t think this question went beyond his scope of abilities.

Maintaining a calm and composed expression, he took the microphone from the nearby participant. With almost no time for contemplation, he opened his mouth:

“Literally speaking, the ‘Lin’ in ‘Lin Cang’ should represent Yancang City. Therefore, Lin Cang Concert Hall must be dedicated to the overall cultural development and artistic atmosphere optimization of the entire Yancang City. It gives a very reliable, responsible, and idealistic first impression.

“Moreover, the pronunciation of the term ‘Lin Cang’ sounds like it would easily evoke the phrase ‘storehouse full, knowing the etiquette.’ This ancient saying actually implies that when people’s livelihoods are secure, they will seek higher, spiritual pursuits. Providing spiritual nourishment for people in prosperous times is, I believe, also something that Lin Cang Concert Hall aims to achieve. Thank you.”

He bowed 90 degrees and heard the thunderous applause from the audience.

The judge who originally asked the question with the microphone added, “Truly the character reflects the music! Being able to play a grand and majestic atmosphere in a practice piece at such a young age surely has profound reasons. Your future is boundless!”

Bian Liming smiled again and bowed to express his gratitude.

Zhao Yuan had been standing at the stage, watching him. After hearing this answer and witnessing the applause that filled the room for Bian Liming, Zhao Yuan felt more satisfied and happy than him.

Tears of excitement blurred Zhao Yuan’s vision.

When Bian Liming bent down to bow, in Zhao Yuan’s eyes, it looked more like a sunflower standing tall and proud, blooming perfectly in the dazzling sunlight.

Finally, Bian Liming, who used to be melancholic, rarely smiled, always blamed life, and had never truly felt proud of himself; at this moment, he finally found his own light.

This was a feeling that belonged only to Zhao Yuan, something that no one else could understand.

As he walked off the stage, Zhao Yuan didn’t care whether any audience could see the stage or not. Without waiting for even a second, he opened his arms and tightly embraced him.

He felt Bian Liming extending his hand, gently patting his waist, and in a cheerful and joyful tone, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Zhao Yuan brought his mouth close to his ear, his voice solemn and trembling:

“Congratulations! You’re my number one.”