The two commentators chatted away.
However, a bizarre scene unfolded.
Gradually, they began to realize, has the preparation time dragged on too long?
Why hasn’t it started yet?
They looked towards the stage.
Nannali stood at the center of the stage.
She was just standing there, showing no signs of movement.
As time ticked by, second by second.
Some members of the audience also noticed something was off.
They began whispering quietly.
"...Did something go wrong?"
Fengye cautiously asked.
"Hard to say, maybe the contestant is a bit nervous and adjusting?"
"Actually, I was just about to say, Nannali’s outfit today seems like she’s trying to make some kind of change—there should be symbolic meaning in such attire."
Nannali silently counted in her heart, taking deep breaths.
It’s time to perform.
It’s time to sound the music.
Why aren’t you moving, Nannali!
Nannali kept urging herself inwardly.
But for some reason, her hands and feet felt as though they were frozen in place.
Completely unresponsive.
In her line of sight,
that woman, was sitting leisurely.
With eyes that were utterly indifferent.
Is this revenge for this morning’s incident?
Nannali gritted her teeth fiercely.
Her memories flashed, scenes flickering through her mind.
That gaze had accompanied her through so many painful childhood memories.
What are you thinking, Mother?
With what mindset are you sitting here, watching my competition?
Nannali truly didn’t understand.
If her musical career was one of complete contradiction, forced into doing what she disliked constantly,
then what about Mother’s perspective?
Clearly wanting her to restore the glory of the Nannali family, hoping her cello talent could shine.
Yet sitting here now, with eyes hoping for her to lose—what’s that about?
Your feelings, aren’t they as complex as mine?
are you simply enjoying this? Seeing me struggle with the cello brings you pleasure, doesn’t it?
"What’s going on? Why hasn’t it started?"
"What’s the deal, is she petrified with fear?"
"Her mental resilience is too weak... After all, she’s only 20, still a child, right?"
"If you ask me, just disqualify her, anyway, her last performance was just so-so, nothing memorable....."
The audience was restless.
The atmosphere on-site was becoming uncontrollable.
"Looks like our Nannali contestant is having some difficulties today."
Zhu Ye said worriedly,
"In another minute, if she exceeds the allotted preparation time, she’ll automatically forfeit..." This content belongs to novel⁂fire.net
Nannali, who repeatedly failed to reclaim control over her body, finally lifted her head, resigned.
She simply couldn’t lift the bow.
Nannali gazed at the ceiling of the concert hall.
Anyway, this was a destined-to-fail performance.
Being eliminated silently and bringing shame to the Nannali family might even disgust that woman a bit...
She couldn’t change anything; she couldn’t, like Gan Yanyu, find a way out of this quagmire through music...
——Was there a moment when performing was actually enjoyable?
The voice of that young man echoed in Nannali’s mind.
She paused for a moment.
What was her answer meant to be just now...
It was at the Manchester International Music Competition, during her first encounter with Gan Yanyu.
In the cafe owned by Lin Tian and Gan Yanyu, playing "Spanish Bullfighting Song" with Gan Yanyu.
Also, during Lin Tian and Gan Yanyu’s concert, playing together with them... She was truly happy.
not all the memories related to music were painful.
There were also moments that filled her with immense joy and satisfaction.
Did she... truly hate,
Nannali’s pupils trembled.
——Focus your gaze on what you love.
another girl’s voice resonated in Nannali’s mind.
The girl looked at the bow in her hand.
a bold idea flashed through her mind.
If she didn’t hate music after all.
Then, could they, together, complete a joyful collaboration as a whole?
the bow in her hand seemed to transform into a beautiful paintbrush.
She slowly raised the brush.
"Wait a minute, did Nannali move?!"
Fengye quickly noticed the change and leaned over the commentary desk.
Zhu Ye shouted in delight,
"I knew it, Nannali wouldn’t give up easily!"
At this moment, a wave of astonished voices rose from the audience.
She picked up the bow.
Nannali fixed her gaze fiercely on that spot in the audience.
She was absolutely certain now.
What she had never hated were the cello, much less music.
was this deceitful, contemptible woman obsessed with the family!
The girl grasped the bow tightly.
And then, suddenly stabbed the tip into the G string, the resulting harmonics erupted like a cobalt blue paint tube being crushed!
That explosion on the canvas, a metal-scented blue!