books44 Chapter 299 [Empire] Outside the Crowd
Chapter 299 [Empire] Outside the Crowd
The performance ended, and the audience erupted in applause. Wen Ya stood on the stage, bowing slightly, his face still maintaining that otherworldly calmness. His back seemed increasingly distant in the interweaving of light and shadow, as if forming a certain contrast with the enthusiastic audience.
Immediately, a crowd surged up from the audience, enthusiastically surrounding him. Some handed him flowers, some offered compliments, and still others patted him on the shoulder, as if he were some idol, with all the attention focused on him. And I, standing outside the crowd, watching all this, felt an inexplicable sense of strangeness, as if I were in another world.
Wen Ya seems to have had many careers: painter, violinist, barista, and even a former soldier—these identities intertwined to form a multifaceted and complex person.
Each of these aspects of him belies his calm, elegant, and even somewhat distant exterior. As a painter, his work is always imbued with profound depth and restraint; as a violinist, his playing is beautiful yet tinged with an indelible melancholy; as a barista, he always manages to create the perfect drink for everyone, as if he knows the heart of the human heart intimately; and as a soldier—this identity is the heaviest, and perhaps the one he least wants to discuss. Whenever that identity surfaces, his expression becomes stiff and cold, as if he has lost something important during those years.
These different identities, to some extent, outline the complexity and depth of his inner self.
Wen Ya is not the kind of perfect person who is the same in front of others and behind their backs.
On the contrary, each of his identities is like a layer of masks, and under each mask he hides his unknown pain and confusion.
Whenever he played that moving piano music, perhaps in some unknown corner of his heart, he was also crying.
I watched Wen Ya maintain his composure and elegance amidst the crowd. His smile was always so rational and objective, as if detached from the world. Even in such a lively atmosphere, he never seemed excited or lost his composure. Standing outside the crowd, I unconsciously drew my gaze towards him. His indescribable loneliness still captivated me.
At this moment, Wen Ya seemed to notice my gaze and turned his head, his eyes flickering with a complex expression under the light. His eyes were deep, as if he could see through everything, yet he seemed to maintain an indifferent distance from everything.
At that moment, I saw a faint ripple in his eyes. It disappeared in an instant, but it still made my heart tremble. It was as if, in that moment, Wen Ya was no longer a high-ranking star on the stage, but an ordinary person, someone who needed to be understood and accepted.
He nodded slightly, a brief and concise gesture that somehow made me feel a subtle warmth. Then, he turned to talk to the person next to him, his professional composure once again shrouding his face, as if the previous look and the momentary fluctuation in his eyes were just an illusion.
I didn't disturb him because I knew Wen Ya didn't like being disturbed.
As the concert drew to a close, the audience rose and dispersed. Wen Ya remained standing, chatting with those around him, in no hurry to leave. I knew he still had responsibilities and missions to fulfill. Perhaps this was something he had never let go of in his life.
I slowly walked towards the exit, but my eyes couldn't help but glance at the stage. There, Wen Ya was still moving among the crowd. And I was still standing outside the crowd.