world class art fanatic

Zhong Ying has black hair and black eyes, holding a pipa in his arms, and his downcast eyes are focused on the string movement of his fingertips.

He was dressed in a light white linen double-breasted Tang suit, which should have stood out from the western concert hall, but because of the rhythm played by his fingers, he harmoniously blended with the solemn black and white of the entire orchestra.

The concert hall echoes with the unique clear sound of the pipa.

A strange musical instrument born in the far east played the familiar sentimentality of the Austrians.

It was a deep reflection on the war and a sad remembrance of the victims.

What their eyes see is the pear-shaped lute with a curved neck and four strings, but what they hear is the soul awakened by the slender fingers touching the strings, looking down on the earth in the vast starry sky, telling a massacre that should not be forgotten.

The bell should play continuous and even half-round strings, like artillery fire shattering the tranquility of the town.

Then the violin played a low tune, and the continuous sound seemed to be calling, calling for the invasion that would never stop.

Musical instruments from the East and West break through the barriers of region and time and space, recreating a sad history.

They can hear the cold guns, the laughter of the Nazis, see the heavy snow with goose feathers flying, the dead lying on the snow, and the silent gaze of the starry sky.

Music never said "a long time ago".

But that piece of music, every note tells—

A long time ago, some fragile and innocent lives lost their voices in a powerful and brutal massacre.

The pipa in Zhong Ying's arms seems to be making a sound for those who have lost their voice.

He rotated his fingertips, and quickly rolled out an eager long sound, mixed with short breath-like gaps, very much like the chaotic footsteps of a refugee.

Behind them is the executioner's pursuit, and in front of them is a confused and broad road ahead.

Those innocent souls who died under the bullets stared straight ahead in fear with the sharp strings of the pipa, trying to find a glimmer of hope to survive in the darkness.

Faster, faster, if they're fast enough—

With a swipe of Zhong Ying's fingertips, the melody of the pipa came to an abrupt end!

—No matter how fast they are, they are just prey in the game of marksmanship.

No matter how fast it is, it can't be faster than the black muzzle raised by the executioner.

On the stage without breathing or footsteps, there was a soft flick in the deep mourning.

Only the concert hall reverberated with the sound of the strings, and the cello continued the feeling of regret.

After a moment of silence, the gurgling strings played by Zhong Ying with downcast eyes, like the warm blood of the deceased, melted the hard and cold white snow on the ground for the souls of innocent souls.

The audience in the concert hall was in the warm spring of May, but the sound of blood melting ice and snow made their eyes burn and their throats choked.

They suffocate and suffer with the music, their whole bodies tremble uncontrollably, as if they are the bullet, the pool of blood, and the ice.

The oriental performer on the stage is not using silk strings with his fingers, but a red-edged sharp knife.

One string and one sound cut the listener's heart, allowing them to see dripping blood.

And from the blood dripping, drove away the cold winter night in Austria, and told everyone in the grandeur of the orchestra——

We have regained peace and tranquility.

However, these peace and tranquility have nothing to do with the victims.

The pain and torture they suffered can never be made up for by simple condolences and solemn monuments.

The freedom and life, justice and dignity they have lost must be pursued by the living who speak out for them.

The timbre of the pipa is clear, cool and firm, and the orchestral accompaniment is grand, deep and long.

What they played was not a gentle and soft cry, but more like a sonorous and unyielding guard.

Guarding under the twinkling stars, outside the walls of Mauthausen concentration camp, the memorial mourns for the dead, and the survivors complain for the dead.

Those voices are either old or young, clear or hoarse.

They come from all over the world, have different hair colors, surnames and nationalities, the only thing they have in common is——

Keep your eyes fixed and remember forever.

A complete song "Gaze at the Starry Sky" ended, and everyone's eyes were red, immersed in the sadness of nostalgia.

They were once confused about why the Chinese pipa was used as the main instrument in Mauthausen's memorial concert.

Now, they are deeply immersed in this unique string sound, experiencing the pain and struggle of the victims, which made them instantly understand the music full of ideas in the song, and shed tears for it.

This must be the merit of the magical Tang Dynasty pipa.

Otherwise, how could such a young player play such a soul-direct tone.

How can it be like experiencing that catastrophe, and convey the sad and painful condolences to everyone's heart.

Until the intermission, they all sighed with emotion for this unique commemoration in low voices.

"I have never hated that terrible war more than I do now."

"Because the melody of Pipa is so unique, it seems that it was born specially for this song "Gaze at the Starry Sky"!"

"No wonder Flisken paid 1000 million euros. This pipa is indeed a treasure in the world. When I hear the strings plucked by the musicians, my soul trembles."

The praise for "Stargazing" gradually turned into congratulations for Fries.

Congratulations to this discerning Jewish businessman who owns a unparalleled musical instrument.

Fliss, however, was only amused by their compliments.

"What you see is not the pipa I photographed at all!"

He criticized these guys mercilessly, "Why don't you praise the Chinese musicians for their superb playing? Why don't you praise Li Jinqiu for his soul-stirring composition?"

"You just want to tout the value of a pipa, it seems that you guys know a lot about musical instruments."

Fliss has always been arrogant and domineering, but everyone didn't expect that compliments would be scolded.

They clearly saw the unique magnolia flower on the lute, but what did he say?

Isn't it the pipa he took? !

"How is it possible? What are you kidding?"

Their eyes widened in disbelief, and they didn't believe what Ferris said.

"I remember clearly that the pipa played by the Chinese just now is exactly the same as the Tang Dynasty pipa published in the newspaper!"

But Ferris laughed heartily, "Because there are two lutes."

His eyes were gentle and his tone was expectant, "Today, they finally met again."

Throughout the intermission, the message of the two pipas was conveyed.

And people related to the Art Orchestra and the Vienna Spring have become the object of more inquiries.

"Yes, there are two Mulan Pipas."

Sarah talked about the virtuous couple from far away China with lingering eyes, "One of them belonged to the victims in Mauthausen, and the other belonged to the widows of the victims."

A couple separated by a brutal massacre for 76 years have not been able to reunite in Austria.

But the pipa they loved all their lives came from China to the United States, and from the United States to Austria by accident, and finally stepped onto the stage of the concert, played commemorative music for the victims, and lived together again.

The sound they make is the condolences of the living to the dead, and it is also the complaint of the dead against the war.

Sarah's infectious narration made these Europeans who had never understood China and never realized that the far east had also suffered from suffering, deeply felt the expectation and grief carried by Mulan Pipa.

Therefore, Dang Zhong Ying took the Mulan Pipa back to the stage, and the eyes that stared at him were filled with emotion from the living.

Some are the descendants of those who died and grew up listening to stories of the suffering of the concentration camps.

Some people spontaneously mourn the cruel war, with the belief of safeguarding peace.

Now they gather together, through a piece of music, to think about the meaning of war, and to miss the old people who disappeared in history.

It is also possible to hear the Chinese who died in the massacre, the musical instruments left behind, and the sound of playing.

Zhong Ying was still wearing the double-breasted Tang suit, but what he brought back was not only the pistil pipa he used just now, but also the stamen pipa that was about to resound through the concert hall.

The same magnolia blooms with different stamens.

The pistil pipa was safely placed beside him, and the next moment, Zhong Ying hugged and pressed the strings, using the stamen pipa to raise the hope hidden in time for everyone.

The Europeans here don't understand the pipa, let alone why the same pipa needs to be played differently.

But they understand the disparate melody in the music, as well as the gentle and melodious chords in the melody, showing them another scene——

In the tragic war, the innocent people supported side by side in the hell on earth, and ran towards peace.

The stamen pipa played by Zhong Yingheng, with its soft and melodious strings, outlines the efforts and struggles of the deceased.

The music it plays is like a white and fragrant magnolia flower, which blooms against the wind in the ruins destroyed by the war and never gives up.

Under the stars, the dead are gone.

The hope left by the deceased has achieved a unique tranquility.

Zhong Ying follows the strings and uses the Nanyin pipa's playing technique of picking and falling strings, one tight and one slow, recreating the Chu Shuming of "flowing clouds and flowing water around fingers lingering" written by Shen Ling.

The fingerings and instruments that inherit the ancient sounds have a higher pitch than the pistil pipa, making Vienna's concert halls linger with strings that have been around the beams for thousands of years.

The real stamen pipa worth 1000 million euros played "Together in the Same Boat", without the chilling clang before, it was more like a silk handkerchief slowly brushing people's eyes.

It is gentle and persistent. When wiping away tears for everyone, it attracts more tears and gathers into a ruthless torrent of history.

Perhaps only when the strings sound, listeners who don't understand pipa will know that pipa is different from pipa.

Different playing methods, different rhythms and tones, and different profound musical ideas.

If the pipa played vertically in the first half is a sharp spear, it can directly and sharply pick out the truth under the whitewash of the butcher.

Then the pipa played horizontally in the second half is a ray of red tassels, and the crimson softly conveys the hope hidden in the heart of the deceased.

The silk strings gently twitched by Zhong Ying's fingers awakened the sleeping regret in his heart.

Let everyone feel a little warmth in the cold, ironing their painful and sad hearts.

They saw souls that could not rest in peace.

They heard weeping whispers.

They saw that the faith of the deceased was as hot as a scorching sun, as grand as a twilight, and in the midst of suffering, they held the hands of their companions, raised their heads together, and looked up at the rising sun.

This is a song full of hope, and it is a melody full of expectations.

However, the audience's tears flooded uncontrollably.

Why can they only commemorate and commemorate here?

Why can't they rush to the executioner's gun and stop these inhuman butchers!

The low sobbing of the concert hall became the weak accompaniment of the music.

Sitting in the front row, Chu Mu could clearly see every movement of Zhong Ying playing the stamen pipa.

He looked surprised, surprised by Zhong Ying's skillful fingering of playing the pipa horizontally.

I was even more surprised by this song "Together in the Same Boat", which is far deeper and heavier than "Gaze at the Starry Sky".

He understood the hope within.

He heard the cry of the stamen lute.

The gentle and powerful voice leads the entire orchestra, galloping and charging for it.

The deep and hoarse A-flat major has become a vassal of the pipa. In its high-pitched and cheering melody, it arouses the audience's eager anticipation, waiting for a more perfect and pure resistance.

just like……

A man in the dark and imprisoned, facing the torture and ridicule of the devil, still stubbornly said:

"I believe in light."

Chu Mu didn't know such a man.

But he felt that he had seen such a man.

From Zhong Ying's description, from the Mauthausen concentration camp, from the stamen lute he played, from the surname he inherited, and from Medwitz's "Remembrance".

He should have seen such a man.

Such a man has black hair, black eyes, and can play the pipa well.

Just like Zhong Ying on the stage, he holds his beloved stamen pipa horizontally, with a stroke of the strings, bursts of sound, soloing out a peaceful and peaceful world.

He said, I am Chinese.

They said his name was Chu Shuming.

Chu Mu had never met Chu Shuming.

All he knew was that a lost grandfather left home and never came back.

"Grandpa" is an unfamiliar symbol to him, dispensable.

Now, following the sound of the pipa on the stage, he saw a haggard-looking Chinese with bright eyes, trapped in the Mauthausen concentration camp amidst the smoke and flames of war.

It was a hell on earth where a Jew wanted to die.

Only Chu Shuming's spine was straight and his black eyes were in a dark place, which became the light for others to live.

Chu Mu was melancholy for his imagination.

The pain in his heart blurred his eyes, and even the pistil lute placed in his eyes faintly vibrated with the strings, as if it was also playing the sound of helping each other in times of crisis at the same time.

He also heard the stamen pipa suddenly clanging like broken strings, and the pistil pipa resonating silently, together with the bell echo played alone, awakened a melody of the rising sun.

At that moment, he felt that pistil pipa was no longer pipa.

It was a woman wearing a simple and beautiful cheongsam with a snowy magnolia on her temples.

She stayed firmly on the land of Austria, guarding the stamen pipa trembling with the sound of hope, as if waiting for an old friend who disappeared.

Unfortunately, the person she was waiting for would never come back.

The person my mother waited for never came back.

Chu Mu couldn't hold back her tears, her nose and throat were full of soreness.

It turned out that he was indeed wrong.

He never owned a Mulan Pipa.

It is even more impossible to have a Mulan Pipa.

They come from China, and from the beginning of their birth, they are destined not to belong to anyone.

Life after life, they belong to everyone who plucks the strings with their fingertips and awakens the lonely soul.

He suddenly understood why Zhong Ying was obsessed with these two pipas.

Because they are not ordinary musical instruments, but containers that carry the souls of the deceased, forever telling memories that span time and space and transcend life and death.

As long as they are played, the departed soul will live forever.

"Gaze at the Starry Sky, Helping Together" allowed Austrian commemorators to see two magnolia pipas.

They may not be able to tell the male and female, or the vertical and horizontal, but they can clearly tell the difference between the two pipas.

The sonorous pipa is their firm belief in staring at the starry sky to guard peace.

The lingering pipa is their humanity that they hope to join hands to save lives.

Commemoration is to comfort the dead, but also to move forward with heavy burdens.

Zhong Ying played unprecedented commemoration, unprecedented mourning, unprecedented hope and encouragement.

When the music ended, the concert hall couldn't hide the weeping and humming, and even the applause seemed eager and solemn, echoing continuously in the concert hall.

Everyone is amazed at this pair of red sandalwood instruments from the prosperous Tang Dynasty more than 1000 years ago.

There are countless audiences who want to know about Zhong Ying.

However, Zhong Ying took the Mulan Pipa to the backstage. He settled the precious instrument and walked out eagerly.

"Boss Chu!"

He was pleasantly surprised to see that Chu Mu was still standing by the concert hall, with a cigarette in his mouth, unlit.

He smiled and said, "Just now I saw that your seats were vacant, what happened?"

Chu Mu's eyes were red, and he frowned and said in a low voice, "My sister has a headache, so the nurse took her medicine and asked the orchestra to arrange a lounge."

Chu Huai's condition is still unstable.

Halfway through such profound and moving music, she burst into tears and suffered another headache.

They are standing in the corridor of the concert hall, where the Art Orchestra and the Vienna Spring are performing encore performances respectively.

Chu Mu talked about his sister's condition in a very soft voice. Obviously, he has completely taken over Godello's daily work and hired professional nurses to take care of Chu Huai.

After Zhong Ying listened carefully, he asked, "The day after tomorrow, Master and I will leave for China, and we will take two Mulan Pipas with us, so..."

He smiled, "We want to ask you, is there anything we can do for you?"

Chu Mu looked at Zhong Ying carefully with an unlit cigarette between his hands.

He may never understand why Zhong Ying can treat a bastard like him with consistent enthusiasm, as if "Chinese" and "compatriots" are worth Zhong Ying's efforts.

Chu Mu has found an excellent helper, but he glanced at the concert hall, hesitated for a moment, and said:

"So, can you wait any longer?"

Zhong Ying waited quietly for him to speak.

"When my sister wakes up, I want to play the Mulan Pipa with her for the last time. Give it to..."

He wanted to say grandpa, but felt that such a title was strange and deliberate.

So, he paused, and said with a smile, "To Chu Shuming, grandma and my mother."

In the silent concert hall, the last performance was over, and the gorgeous and noisy doors were closed.

Li Jinqiu had a splitting headache, without Zhong Ying's music for pain relief, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

But he found that Zhong Ying stayed in the concert hall, standing with the annoying Chu Mu, saying that he would play music on the stage when Chu Huai woke up.

Immediately, the long-renowned composer no longer had a headache and didn't want to go back to the hotel.

"I have to wait too." Li Jinqiu looked serious, "I want to hear what Chu Mu can play."

See what Zhong Ying said about them being very similar!

The composer stayed with Zhong Ying, waiting for a late-night duet with no one left.

They discussed music and tonality, but Chu Mu sat aside, smoking an unlit cigarette, playing with his mobile phone, and refused to participate.

Around midnight, Chu Huai woke up slowly with a headache and returned to the concert hall accompanied by a nurse.

She already knew that Mulan Pipa would return to China, to the hometown of her grandparents.

"is it okay?"

Chu Huai stood on the stage of the gorgeous and wide concert hall, "Can we play here?"

"Of course." Zhong Ying replied with a smile, but handed the pistil pipa to Chu Mu.

Chu Mu hung this sister's pipa on the wall of Chu's musical instrument line for nearly ten years.

He regularly tunes strings, removes dust and maintains them, and he always has a puzzle.

At this moment, he took the pistil pipa and walked up to Chu Huai.

Chu Huai, who was specially dressed for the concert, her hair was still dry and frizzy, and her smile couldn't hide her vicissitudes and morbidity.

But her eyes were bright, revealing a girlish excitement, and even her pale cheeks returned to color.

"Sister." Chu Mu handed out the pipa, and asked earnestly what he had been confused for many years.

This is also the question Zhong Ying asked him.

"If one day, I said, if... Mom gave me the pistil pipa and the stamen pipa to you, what would she mean?"

Chu Huai took back his pipa carefully, and sat on the stage stool nostalgic.

She looked at Chu Mu tenderly, even though her younger brother was mature and old and no longer looked ten years old, her tone of voice was still like treating a ten-year-old silly child.

"Of course I hope you can go home often."

She held the pistil lute, pressed the string with her left hand, and lowered her eyes to find the sound in her memory.

"Mom said, you can't keep a boy. When you grow up and get married, you will definitely stay far away from home."

The pistil pipa made a soft and monotonous sound. She stayed at the cognition of 23 years old, but she could no longer play the smooth pipa at 23 years old.

"But no matter how far you are from home, as long as you bring my pipa, you will definitely remember to take it home. On weekends, Christmas, and Spring Festival, you will always come back, and return the pipa to me like now—"

Chu Huai's dark and haggard eyes shone with determination, and he smiled and raised his hand to play out the familiar melody.

"I'll also return the stamen pipa to you. Let's get together, face the table full of roast geese and fried carp, and play 'Little brother, sister Wen, come, sharpen the knife to the pig and sheep' together."

She laughed, seeming to find the scene she was describing amusing.

Chu Huai plucked the silk string, not minding that his fingers were stiff and the sound of the string was stagnant, but he just looked forward to looking at his brother.

"Only when we are reunited can we play "The Song of Mulan" again. As long as you remember your pipa, you will go home."

Chu Mu stared at her blankly, as if seeing Chu Zhiya before she died.

she says--

Mulan Pipa can guard you for a lifetime, allowing you to have a complete family.

That indifferent Austrian with red eyes seemed particularly sentimental tonight.

With tears in his eyes, he watched Chu Huai play the pipa, as if he could watch the whole night.

"Boss Chu." Zhong Ying handed the stamen pipa to him who was silent.

Chu Mu was stunned, and subconsciously asked: "You knew why from the beginning, didn't you?"

Zhong Ying didn't know it from the beginning.

The pistil lute belonging to his elder sister, which hangs in his younger brother's musical instrument shop, also puzzled him.

Master is very clear.

Fan Chengyun is over 50 years old and has seen too many things and people.He treats Zhong Ying like a parent and child, and he naturally understands Chu Zhiya's last wish, and he can tell the young people about it.

"Master told me that this is my mother."

Zhong Ying relayed the master's words, "She hopes that when you see each other's pipas, you brothers and sisters will remember that you must support each other and be in harmony forever in order to play the eternal melody."

After listening to Chu Mu, he felt that he lived 30 years in vain, and he was not as transparent as an eighteen-year-old child.

He took the pipa with a wry smile, and sat beside Chu Huai with his arms crossed.

There is no need for anyone to say anything to start over, let alone command a unified rhythm, he flicked his fingertips, and followed Chu Huai's familiar melody——

Return to see the emperor, the emperor sits in the hall.

Zhixun twelve turn, reward hundred thousand strong.

The music that has not been played for ten years is stumbling in the brilliant and bright Vienna Concert Hall.

For them, this is not a tragic epic of defending the country, but a melody of a warm family reunion.

They play in every festival, in every spring, and in every parental gaze.

This is the warm memory of their old friends who are separated from life and death.

The ensemble of Mulan Pipa is more harmonious than Chu Mu's solo performance that Zhong Ying has heard.

The fingerings of the siblings may not be exquisite, but the emotions they carry far exceed the weight that a poem can carry.

The "Mulan Song" they played was not for anyone's approval, but for the family members they had met and never met in this life, and to find the voice that passed through time.

The concert hall after the show had ended, leaving an empty auditorium.

However, some invisible figures were left behind.

Zhong Ying thought, if souls really existed in the world, they would definitely be attracted by the pipa they played, sitting here quietly, gazing at the pair of Chu siblings tenderly.

Suddenly, he saw a familiar person in the concert hall resounding with the pipa duet.

The man stood far away by the door, seemingly unwilling to disturb the happiness of the performers on the stage, and carefully appreciating the good news of this song that has been passed down to this day.

"Mr. Fleece."

Zhong Ying walked over with a smile and asked in a low voice, "Did you stay here specially to listen to their performance?"

"Do not."

Fliss was particularly blunt, maintaining the arrogance of a businessman, "I just came to see if the nurse is competent."

After Chu Mu handed the pistil pipa to Zhong Ying, he turned around and found Fries.

He withdrew the prosecution against Chu Huai, the Mulan Pipa belonged to Fries, and asked Godello to return the money from the auction.And as a descendant of Chu Shuming, relying on Chu Shuming's life-saving grace to Medwitz, he made a request to Fries.

Anger ignited in Fries' heart, but remained silent after listening to Chu Mu's request.

He jokingly told Zhong Ying, "Chu Mu helped Chu Huai find a professional Chinese nurse to take care of her food and daily life; he also asked Godro for a job, requiring 90% of the salary to be used to repay debts and 10% to be used life. I also need to sign a contract to guarantee that this stamen pipa will stay in China forever.”

The self-proclaimed indifferent businessman raised his eyebrows and looked at the man strenuously playing the pipa on the stage in disbelief.

"As for himself, he only wanted a copy of "Remembrance."

"Remembrance", which was once rejected by countless people, had the first reader who came to him on his own initiative.

Ferris thought that Chu Mu was greedy and regarded money as his life, but now he asked with a complicated expression:

"You Chinese, are you all so strange?"

Zhong Ying blinked, and reminded with a smile: "Boss Chu is from Austria."

Ferris shook his head, "He's not."

The Jews who are good at distinguishing different races told Zhong Ying affirmatively, "We Jews never distinguish our compatriots by skin color, nationality and blood, but rely on religious beliefs. The same is true of Chu Huai and Chu Mu in my eyes."

He stared into the distance.

The two siblings on the stage were talking and laughing while holding the pipa in their arms.

While chatting about grandma and grandpa told by their mother, they played the handy "Mulan Ci" intermittently.

Such a strange and beautiful melody was only played by Zhong Ying and them.

"You see, they have a unique belief that is different from Austria and different from Europe."

Ferris's eyes were sharp, and his voice was full of sighs, "That must be the religious belief that you Chinese people have."

Zhong Ying followed his line of sight, quietly looking at the Chu siblings.

They have never been to China, and except for black hair and black eyes, they seem to find no similarities with Chu Shuming and Zheng Wanqing.

However, when they picked up the pipa and played "Mulan Ci", no one would doubt their origin.

Because they exude an aura of blood thicker than water, and are deeply nourished by the land of the far east.

"That's not religion."

Zhong Ying replied with a smile, "That's the China that we can't let go of in our souls."

Living in the Quartet, inheriting the glory of culture.

From the moment they were born, along with the pipa and the music, they blended into their blood and bodies.

Eternal and eternal.