books44 Chapter 298 [Empire] Flesh and Blood People
Chapter 298 [Empire] Flesh and Blood People
When he raised the violin again, his bow movements became slower and more profound. The lights in the audience suddenly dimmed, and the spotlight shone on him, as if he was alone in the entire universe, and everything was swallowed up by his performance.
This time, the music is completely different from the previous intense and high-pitched ones, but is instead full of lingering and profound emotions.
The notes flowed gently like water, each collision of bow and string like an overflow of emotion, gentle yet unconcealed. Like a delicate thread, the music tugged at the listener's heart, bit by bit. It was silent, yet profound; gentle, yet tearing. Each note was like a drop of cold dew, soaking the most vulnerable part of the heart, gently releasing the silent pain and suppressed emotions bit by bit.
I can feel that this song is not just a melody, but a release of some long-suppressed emotions, like a seed buried deep in the soil for a long time finally breaking through, carrying with it the accumulated pain and desire.
Every note seems to be telling of his deepest inner struggle and helplessness, like an unspeakable love, which is neither hurried nor slow, yet inevitable.
Wen Ya's fingers moved across the strings, seemingly calm on the surface. Yet, every change in the note seemed to evoke the vibrations of his inner emotions. Those emotions, no longer accessible to the outside world, were transmitted through the violin to the hearts of everyone present. Even the smallest note held an undeniable power, carrying a certain inescapable sadness.
Wen Ya's performance is more than just music.
He releases emotions in his music that perhaps he himself has never fully understood. The intensity of that emotion seems to be able to tilt the balance of the entire world.
I suddenly saw another side of him—an indescribable coexistence of fragility and resilience. Just like this piece of music, on the surface, peaceful and gentle, but underneath, hidden a kind of fiery and uncontrollable emotional fluctuations.
Wen Ya is not without emotion.
In music, he finally revealed his truest side, a side completely different from what I had known before, both strange and familiar.
When the last melody ended, Wen Ya still didn't raise his head. He seemed unaware that the applause from the audience had become thunderous. Those enthusiastic cheers did not bring him back to his senses. He continued to stand there with his eyes closed.
I stared at Wen Ya, a dull pain welling in my heart. The stage lights shone on him, his well-tailored suit perfectly framing his figure. But in that instant, I noticed tears welling in his eyes. Though masked by the intertwined atmosphere of darkness and light, I could see the unspoken emotion in those downcast eyes.
Those tears. Perhaps, only on this kind of stage, only in the world of music, could he dare to let those emotions flow out for a moment. Wen Ya's eyes didn't fully lift up, they remained lowered, as if something was preventing him from facing the outside world's gaze.
What caught my attention even more was the blue and white bracelet on his wrist. It was simple yet incredibly unique, like some kind of keepsake, forever adorned on his wrist, as if it could never be removed, no matter where or when. The bracelet gleamed faintly in the light, mingling with his deep gaze.
I have never seen him take it off. He always wears it at work or in his daily life. Wen Ya never talks about his past and always faces everything with a calm and rational attitude.
Perhaps, behind this bracelet lies a story he's reluctant to share. Perhaps, deep down in Wen Ya's heart, there's something he can't forget. Perhaps, it's because of this thing that he's remained calm and refused to let anyone get close to his innermost thoughts.
The music started again, and he pulled the violin bow very slowly. The sound of the bowstring was gentle and low, as if telling a story from a long time ago, telling a memory that could not be let go.
His movements were still graceful and precise, but the sadness in his eyes was unconcealable. I knew that at that moment, he was no longer just the gentle figure on stage, but a real, flesh-and-blood person, his heart surging with emotions that he could not suppress.