After a piercingly cold note, the vast auditorium fell silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
The atmosphere suddenly turned stagnant.
The contestants in the waiting area stared at the half-revealed profile of the girl on the electronic screen. Once the initial shock of her beauty subsided, they began to share the same derisive thoughts as Qin Xiangge.
Where did this amateur come from?
But almost imperceptibly, the prelude of the A section in A minor unfolded, the melody ascending and then descending, the strength shifting from soft to intense. Using musical notes as a brush, the image of a gentle and beautiful maiden slowly unveiled before them.
Pearl squinted, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the girl’s flying hands.
At first, her fingering seemed a bit raw, but by the first eighth note, she completed a mature legato, with impeccably controlled dynamics.
Her notes, much like herself, carried an alluring sense of mystery.
The two judges who had previously been visibly impatient suddenly withdrew their disapproving demeanor. This was a classic masterpiece that had been practiced and performed countless times—its every nuance deeply etched in their memory.
Yet under this girl’s fingers, the simple, familiar piece seemed to have been granted a brand-new vitality.
The spotlight fell upon her as she closed her eyes lightly. Her slender jade-like fingers danced over the black-and-white keys like butterflies, weaving the most moving composition in the world.
The transition from A minor to F major was akin to the tender murmurs between lovers shifting into joyful conversation. The left hand played Alberti bass in an accompaniment pattern, while the right hand gently sprinkled ornamental notes and dotted sixteenth notes. The suddenly lively melody resembled the radiant and playful laughter of a young girl.
The left hand smoothly and fluidly played broken chords—intimate and warm, as though a man continuously responded to his lover’s murmurs.
All doubts and sneers dissolved amidst the enchanting music.
This immortal piece, "Für Elise," was a representative work that signified Beethoven’s transition from classical to romanticism, imbued with profound personal character.
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For example, after the A section seamlessly transitioned into the second interlude, the layers of advancing musical emotions ignited with irrepressible passion, burning like flames. The persistent repetition of one bass note resonated like the ardent heartbeat of a man—an earnest and steadfast confession, unwavering and eternal.
The low chords seemed to signify the maiden’s joyful acceptance of his declaration. At the highest notes, a cascade of elegant descending chromatic scales unfolded—a pair of lovers nestled close, hearts entwined, whispering their deepest feelings.
In the end, the music returned to its initial A minor. Within the gradually softening tones, one could envision a pair of lovers staring into each other’s eyes, caught timelessly in the dissipating melody.
No dazzling compositions, no synchronized rhythms, no highly demanding fingering techniques—just a free soul and a pair of nimble hands breathing life back into those simple, repetitive notes.
The lingering aftertaste of the performance—irreplaceable in this world.
It felt as though this pair of entwined lovers truly existed in the river of time. Though they were likely ordinary people whose names no one ever knew, their genuine love radiates through the swirling melody, gently permeating the heartstrings. In this moment, in this space and time, their presence becomes vividly tangible.
The sound of applause shattered the silent atmosphere of the venue, snapping everyone back to reality. The looks directed toward the girl were no longer dismissive.
Everyone knew of Pearl’s status as a quintessential romantic pianist, whose performances encapsulated intense individuality, freedom of spirit, and imaginative style—returning to the purity and simplicity of music to bring a cathartic resonance to his audience’s emotions and spirit.
This girl radiated a rich romantic aura. She and Pearl were cut from the same cloth—born for the piano.
Pearl stood up as he clapped, his eyes blazing as he gazed at the girl onstage.
The girl rose gracefully and bowed in thanks.
Pearl smiled and said, "May I ask you a question?"
The girl’s bright, clear pupils shimmered with a brilliance no earthly hue could compare to.
Her figure was like the moon, her eyes like stars.
Even the vibrant beauty of the world would pale in her presence.
The girl smiled and nodded.
Pearl asked, "When you played, were you thinking of your lover?"
The girl froze for a moment, then shook her head.
"This piece is dedicated to my father and mother, to commemorate their love."
Qin Xiangge furrowed his brow. Why did this voice sound so familiar?