world class art fanatic

Maybe Zhou Juntong was very embarrassed.

Zhong Ying thought.

But he just wanted to wake up a simple cultural relic restorer and save the poor deceived person from Bellu's lies.

Unexpectedly, Zhou Juntong wanted to ask his master to comment.

Normally, Fan Chengyun had strict control over him, and he was not allowed to tell the hidden truth casually.

After all, what they want to do needs the approval of more people.On this path, it is safer to make friends than to make enemies.

Fortunately, Zhou Juntong didn't say anything more.

She stood awkwardly at the side of the line, pretending that she just needed a professional explanation on the ten-stringed zither, and gave Zhong Ying a chance to escape the punishment of her master by chance.

Zhong Ying thanked her for her embarrassment, politely carried the piano case, and led the mighty visiting team forward, acquiescing that nothing happened.

I am afraid that no one in this world knows this piano better than him and Fan Chengyun.

He stood still in front of the showcase, like a conscientious commentator, and introduced:

"The ten-stringed qin was made in the Tang Dynasty. It was made of thousand-year-old ebony, the whole body was pitch black, and the antlers were tempered with frost and painted with raw lacquer. It was made of ten ice strings. The abdomen was engraved with the words "the strings are suppressed, and the rhyme is elegant", so it was named "Ya". Rhyme'. Its whole body is broken like snake scales, and its tail is broken like plum blossoms. It is the rarest kind of thousand-year-old guqin."

"There is no information to support the traces of Yayunqin before the Republic of China."

"Until 1932, Mr. Shen Ling, a pianist, established the Yiyin Yashe, and joined hands with the musicians of the Republic of China to compose music for Guqin, Pipa, Erhu, Chime Bells, and Zhuqin, trying to reproduce the ancient music of Han Yuefu. The Shen family and Yiyin Yashe have detailed records."

"In 1937, Yiyin Yashe performed publicly for the first time, raising donations for the Anti-Japanese War benefit performance, and played the famous Yuefu."

"The whole world praises 'Yiyin Yashe's piano-singing day, and Yuefu's best chapters are restored to glory'. So far, 'Ten Strings and Elegant Rhymes' and Yiyin Yashe's reputation has spread far and wide, and they have flourished for a while."

His voice was unhurried, his time introduction was extremely clear, and his words were as euphemistic and standard as a display board.

However, Zhong Ying paused before bringing up that painful past again.

"In 1942, Qingling Lake fell, and Mr. Shen was arrested and imprisoned because the Yiyin Yashe refused to perform for Japanese military officers. Since then, the ten-stringed qin and other ancient musical instruments have been lost overseas without a trace."

After finishing speaking, he changed his voice and looked at the asset manager of Bellu.

"I am very grateful to Mr. Stanford for returning this violin on behalf of Harrison Bellew. Now that Yayun has returned, it can be regarded as making up for Mr. Shen's regrets during his lifetime."

I saw that Stanford's translator perfectly conveyed Zhong Ying's meaning, which made the senior manager smile.

"The ten-stringed piano has always been the love of Mr. Bellou's heart, and Mr. Shen is a good friend he has missed for many years. I am very happy to be here instead of him."

Stanford praised: "Besides, I can't wait to hear Mr. Fan play the piece."

Fan Chengyun laughed and said: "I have played the seven-stringed guqin for many years, but I am not the most suitable player for the ten-stringed qin. My apprentice composed music on stage at the age of nine. He has rich experience and has more research on the ten-stringed qin. If Mr. Stanford does not If you mind, please let him show the charm of this thousand-year-old guqin."

Once the master’s words came out, not to mention Stanford didn’t believe it, even Director Yu, who had heard the master’s performance countless times, didn’t believe it either.

"Your apprentice is so young, how many years have you learned the piano? Master Fan, even if you are modest, you can't be humble in front of the ten-stringed piano."

Fan Chengyun smiled unabated, and said: "I am never humble on the seven-string guqin, but there are many three-stringed qin. My research on the ten-string qin is only five or six years old. My apprentice learned ten-string at the age of three, and now , I said that he has more experience in playing the ten-stringed zither than I do, and I definitely did not deceive you."

"That won't work."

Stanford frowned after listening to the interpreter, and said, "Mr. Bellew specially told me before leaving that no one can touch this piano except you."

"No matter how experienced you say this young man is, I will continue to perform the duties assigned by Mr. Bellou."

The curator looked at Fan Chengyun with a troubled expression.

He must trust the master's words, but Stanford is extremely stubborn.

Because of this willful requirement, the guqin was directly put into the showcase without even being identified as a cultural relic.

After all, Mr. Bellou does not allow any machine or ray to affect the quality of this piano, so that curator Yu also pins his hopes on Fan Chengyun, hoping that this guqin master can accurately judge the age and condition of this piano.

"How about it..." Fan Chengyun understood Stanford's insistence, and he gently swept the piano case Zhong Ying was carrying.

"Xiao Ying, do you bring Qiu Si?"

"En." Zhong Ying nodded.

"That's good." Fan Chengyun said with a smile, "Before I play the elegant rhyme, please listen to my apprentice's music first."

The performance venue specially set aside by the museum is to reproduce the thousand-year-old sound of the ten-stringed zither in the world.

The visitors in the venue gathered together, thinking that the rumored Fan Chengyun would really try playing the guqin in person, they all refused to leave.

However, it was not the elegant master who took the acting position, but a handsome and handsome young man.

He took out a simple guqin from the piano case that he carried with him.

The qin wood is very light in color, the whole body is light brown, and the strings are luminescent. The body of the qin is not like the common Zhongni style and Fuxi style with concave lines, but straight as pine, only at the head and tail. The rounded corners look rough and wild.

There is no carving on the surface of the qin, let alone the elegant lettering of the guqin. The whole body is simple and elegant, and you can tell it is a new modern-made qin at a glance.

But it's more of a harp than an emotionless brown board with a few strings drawn to make up the numbers.

However, the visitors who gathered around counted the strings of the piano.

The guqin used by this young man is actually the same as the one in the glass booth, with ten strings!

Zhong Ying set up the ten-stringed qin, and did not exchange many pleasantries.

He hung his hands above the strings, plucked the strings without warning, and the smooth sound of the piano immediately echoed in the empty venue.

The ten-string melody is broad and vigorous.

He picks, wipes and breaks, his falling notes are vigorous and powerful, and he plays like broken strings. Sometimes both strings are brushed together, kicking and hitting.

However, the unfamiliar pieces that Zhong Ying played did not have the "weak but not empty, hard and soft" that Guqin should have. From the first note, he was imposing, like spears and spears, and the melody was passionate!

He didn't intend to have any sad thoughts about the spring and autumn, or play any sad and sad tunes.

The sound that came out was the same as what he had said, with a sharp sound, as if the strings of a piano were clanging against a stone, hard and unyielding.

Those hands caressed the complicated strings, and used the qin that should have been mournful to stir up the flames of war.

All the memories of the war deeply engraved in his soul, in the rhythm of his trembling strings and clapping palms, a gust of golden swords and drums broke out, swearing to kill the enemy.

The melody came out from the qin, but the drums and drums rang in the hearts of the listeners, and everyone's ears were full of thunder. They clearly knew that this was just the sound of a strangely shaped ten-stringed qin being plucked.

But from such voices, they felt the so-called——

Swear to the death and fight to victory.

The room reverberated with the wide range of the [-]-stringed harp.

Everyone was infected by this distinctive performance.

Even Stanford, who had a lot of complaints about Zhong Ying, was so shocked that he lost his ability to speak, and his soul stumbled and stumbled into the strings in front of him.

He felt the turbulent waves, the eagle hitting the sky.

The sad and majestic music in his ears surpassed his entire understanding of the Chinese guqin, and he even felt that the piercing sliding strings were like sharp knives piercing through the devil, bringing out boiling blood.

Stanford couldn't describe his mood, let alone find the exact words to describe the sound of the piano.

He lost his mind and followed the melody. Instead of sitting in his original position, he rushed to the battlefield of thousands of troops.

Zhong Ying stroked the strings of the qin and finished playing. All the turbulent waves crashing on the shore and the magnificence just now drifted away tremblingly with the sound of the strings.

But the empty sky above the museum still echoes with the rhythm of unfamiliar drumbeats, gradually returning to the chest cavity and blending with the heartbeat.

Stanford took a deep breath for a long time before calming down his excitement. The feeling this piece brought to him was by no means inferior to the surge of heart he felt when he first heard Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture".

He recovered his voice, looked surprised, and asked modestly:

"Mr. Fan, what song is this?"

""Hua Song"."

Fan Chengyun has listened to it countless times, and still feels that Zhong Ying can bring new insights every time he plays, "This is a song of China that he composed at the age of nine and can only be performed in this land."

Composing at the age of nine, extremely young!

The sonorous music style just now, with the annotation of "Hua Ge", suddenly became meaningful.

Stanford immediately stood up and whispered something quickly to the translator.

After a while, the translator perfectly conveyed his meaning.

"Director Yu, Mr. Stanford wants you to open the cabinet."

The news that the ten-string elegant rhyme will be played soon made the visitors who had heard the "Chinese Song" reluctant to leave.

They whispered about the wonderful and exciting music just now, followed Zhong Ying step by step, followed the staff of the museum, and came to the display cabinet.

Visitors have all seen this ebony guqin.

But they look forward to it even more, the young man with a calm expression, the sound of stroking its strings.

Zhong Ying met everyone's expectations and walked to the Yayun showcase. There were no noisy crowds in sight, only the ebony ten strings overlooking all beings.

It seemed that the frightening music just now was just a tune he was used to in his peaceful life.

The huge glass showcase was carefully opened under the supervision of the curator.

The elegant rhyme covered in dust on the piano stand, the black body of the piano shines brightly, exuding the heavy taste of history.

"Slow down." Zhong Ying stretched out his hand to take it, hugging it reverently and cautiously.

Like a long-awaited believer, he finally welcomes back the sacred object he left behind.

The crowd surrounded Zhong Ying, curiously looking at the thousand-year-old guqin without the glass protection.

But Zhou Juntong stood there, unable to move, staring blankly at Zhong Ying hugging Yayun.

She has studied piano and violin, and listened to countless symphony orchestras and folk music performances.

But she swears that the shock brought by Zhong Ying's profound musical ideas far exceeds any performance she has ever heard.

Before Zhong Ying clapped the body of the piano and beat the drum loudly during the performance, she had already realized the theme of this piece——

war.

All the wars that have happened in the land of China are in the sound of Zhong Ying's piano.

She heard the heroic struggle of swords, guns, swords and halberds, and the beating of drums and horns shouting forward. No matter whether blood is dripping or corpses are strewn across the fields, the living in the land of China are like this passionate tune of "Hua Ge", and will never give in. In the iron heels of the great powers.

It is very easy to understand such emotions, but she can't believe that this is a piece that the young performer can compose at the age of nine!

When Zhong Ying came with the piano in his arms and was about to play the elegant rhyme, Zhou Juntong, who was standing by the side, came back to his senses.

She was obviously here to wait for someone, why did she remember the most important thing after listening to the song!

She hurriedly sent the message with trembling hands, lest it would be too late.

"Where are you?"

The message didn't come back in seconds, she couldn't help herself, and made an emergency call directly.

"Huh?" The person over there was sleepy, obviously still on the bed.

"Brother, why haven't you come yet?" Zhou Juntong lowered his voice and urgently urged.

The response over there was lazy and insincere, "I slept late, come back tomorrow."

Zhou Juntong said anxiously, "No, it has to be today, otherwise you will miss it."

"Miss what?" The voice was a little curious.

"Ten stringed qin! I made an appointment with you yesterday to listen to Master Fan playing the piano..."

"Next time." Curiosity dissipated, and he yawned sleepily.

Zhou Juntong was furious.

Zhong Ying plays the qin so well, not only does not lose to Master Fan, but also plays the ten strings through the ages, which is rare in the world.

Her brother is here?

She completely forgot the embarrassment of being stomped by Zhong Ying's few words.

Because her brother is always more annoying than anyone else.

"Let me tell you, it's not Master Fan who is playing the piano today, but his young apprentice, who is an absolute genius! Just now he played a very powerful Guqin piece, which he composed himself. He will play the Tang Dynasty soon." Dai Guqin, if you get up now, you must have time—”

There was no answer, as if hesitating in silence.

Zhou Juntong tried hard to persuade, but only heard a dull voice of shelving in his ear, Yayun took Qiu Si's place and placed it on the piano table.

It is bigger and heavier than Qiu Si, with rough strings, the bell should be plucked, and the rhythm is thick and the sound is like a bell.

Zhou Juntong didn't care too much, and said directly: "Don't hang up, the performance has started, and I will broadcast it live for you!"

She held the phone tightly in her palm, and moved as close to the piano table as possible, her eyes carefully fell on Zhong Ying.

I saw Zhong Ying playing the qin, rubbing out the rhythm with his hands, and tuning the strings intermittently, as if he was still thinking about the temper of the qin.

The ten-stringed harp has maintained its proper tension through a long time.

Zhong Ying's slender fingers hooked up the ice strings, the strings hit each other two by two, the echoes rippling out five tones, the twelve rhythms jumped on the strings, obviously not a melody, but it made people's blood boil, as if they were about to hear the ancient relics, resounding through the sky.

Suddenly, Zhong Ying frowned slightly, and reached out to press the string.

The smooth sound of the piano stopped abruptly, and the next moment, he suddenly slashed, and the three strings vibrated, as abrupt and piercing as Bo Ya's string.

Zhou Juntong wrinkled his face in pain from the shock of the sound, and wanted to explain to the person on the phone: This is tuning, no matter how unpleasant it sounds, it is not considered a performance.

But found that the call had ended long ago, leaving only her brother's ruthless reply on the chat software:

"Can't hear clearly, hang up first."

She gritted her teeth, and was about to continue calling to wake up the stubborn bastard, when she suddenly heard the chaotic plucking of the strings, not like ordinary string testing.

Even she could hear the obvious panic, surprise and even anger in the sound of Zhong Yingqin.

"Xiaoying?" Fan Chengyun also sensed something was wrong, and raised his voice to ask, "What's going on?"

With a solemn expression, Zhong Ying stretched out his hands to press down on the strings, calming down the trembling strings, and stopped trying in vain.

He said, "Master, there is something wrong with this piano."