world class art fanatic

Even after ten years, Fan Chengyun still remembered the heavy rain that day.

The dark clouds are also as thick as today, and the raindrops are as hard as today.

He waited too long in the waiting room to board the plane, and it was almost half a day before the scheduled departure time.

When he returned to the country, it was already evening.

Qingling Lake was still raining heavily.

Fan Chengyun and his assistant left the airport in a hurry, but there was a figure clearly standing in the arrival hall.

"Uncle Fan."

Ning Xuexu, who was only 21 years old that year, stood at the airport shivering with cold while holding an umbrella.

"Xiao Xu, why are you here? Why aren't you with your master?"

When he left Qingling Lake, Lin Wanggui coughed intermittently.

It was an old problem. When it rained and snowed in autumn and winter, Lin Wanggui felt pain all over his body, and his throat and lungs were itchy.

If it hadn't been for his illness, they would have gone to France together.

Ning Xuexu didn't return, her face was pale.

Fan Chengyun was very anxious. He saw a pipa in France, and the carved magnolia was lifelike. He promised the other party to bring someone to see it later and keep it for him.

When he came back this time, he wanted to watch Lin Wanggui take care of his health and go to France, Germany, and Italy.

What if, what if...

Fan Chengyun boarded the vehicle, and Ning Xuexu stretched out her hand to block the door that was about to close.

She changed places with the assistant, and she sat next to Fan Chengyun.

The car was driving in the torrential rain, and the buzzing and thunder covered her trembling teeth.

Fan Chengyun patted her, "What happened?"

"Master...Master..."

Ning Xuexu was still young, with red eyes, "He left last night."

Her voice was like a gnat, and Fan Chengyun was struck by lightning!

Lin Wanggui is his close friend, his violin master, and even more his guide.

If it weren't for this qin master who has been looking for the instruments of Yiyin Yashe for 30 years, Fan Chengyun, Shen Ling's important nephew, no matter how obsessed with guqin, he would not have embarked on this road of searching for instruments.

But when he left, Fan Chengyun's mind went blank.

so what should I do now?

The car dealership was under heavy rain and thunder all the way, but the rain gradually weakened near Fanlin.

Ning Xuexu whispered Lin Wanggui's last words.

"Master said that Bellu has been inquiring about you again recently, and he will be able to go to Italy in a year or two."

"There is news from the United States that Xisheng has a Yongzhong in the hands of a violinist. Let's see if you know any famous musicians in the United States, so that you can connect them."

"Master also said that the Japanese—"

"Uncle Fan!"

Seeing Fan Chengyun open the car door, Ning Xuexu stubbornly ran into Fan Lin before the car stopped.

He had no intention of listening to those "important things" about Lin Wanggui, he just wanted to know that the old man was joking again.

However, Fan Lin was quiet and quiet, and the sound of continuous drizzle on the leaves seemed abrupt.

There is no more Lin Wanggui's annoying coughing sound, nor his harsh sawing sound, nor the monotonous sound of his tuning and tuning.

The rain-soaked courtyard and the mourning hall with coffins.

"Master Fan."

"Mr. Fan."

Lin Wanggui's friends and relatives were bustling and bustling, filling the spacious hall.

Colorful photos are placed at the end of the coffin, offering incense, iron basins, and other people to worship.

"Want to return?"

Fan Chengyun couldn't believe it, he stared blankly at the photo with a gentle smile, and bypassed the worship stage.

Those strangers and familiar relatives and friends saw him walking in front of the tightly closed coffin, and stretched out their hands to lift the thick coffin above!

"Cheng Yun!"

"Teacher Fan, don't get excited, we're coming, we're coming!"

He couldn't remember who was stopping him and who was persuading him.

He only remembered that the dark and heavy coffin board was slowly removed, and inside was indeed his best friend whom he had known for 20 years.

20 years, another ten years.

30 years.

"It's been 30 years since I first met Xiaoying's grandfather."

Fan Chengyun stood on the promenade where the rain was fading, and pointed to the courtyard where the rain beat on the banana leaves.

He said: "I saw Xiao Ying for the first time when I was keeping vigil for his grandfather."

The guqin master in his fifties is slowly approaching the age when the guqin master Lin Wanggui died.

But I still can't forget the last night with my best friend.

He looked at Li Jinqiu kindly, and said: "That was also the first time I saw Qiu Si. That ten-stringed zither was the last work of Grandpa Xiaoying before his death, and it was the only guqin his grandfather made for him."

Li Jinqiu knew that Qiu Si was Zhong Ying's beloved ten-stringed zither.

Light brown wood color, light frost paint, looking at it from a distance, it looks like an ordinary piece of wood with ten strings drawn.

Not pretty.

He suddenly realized something, and asked aloud: "At that time, Qiu Si...didn't finish it?"

Maybe it's not painted, maybe it's not wound, Li Jinqiu doesn't understand the steps of guqin making, but he always feels that Qiusi's strangeness seems to be answered.

It was Lin Wanggui's posthumous work when he died.

"It's really not done yet."

Ten years ago, Fan Chengyun had a bad temper and was still stubborn.

Especially after it was confirmed that Lin Wanggui had passed away, his stubborn temper intensified.

He angrily reprimanded relatives who visited Lin Wanggui and drove away Lin Wanggui's friends.

Even the young Ning Xuexu didn't escape the bad-tempered Master Fan.

Fan Chengyun's anger echoed in the empty Fan Lin.

"How do I usually tell you?"

"Why didn't you tell me that Wang Gui was so sick?"

"Why did you let those ungrateful guys in!"

In the quiet and deserted night, the lights of the mourning hall were pale and the candles were flickering.

Ning Xuexu lowered her head while crying and said, "Master won't let me tell you, Master said that the Ning family, the Ning family will help him with his funeral—"

"Everyone with the surname Ning is a bunch of wolves!"

Fan Chengyun accused angrily, "If it wasn't for them, I hope it wouldn't be like this! How do you think he got all the old problems?! Isn't it bad enough for the Ning family to hurt him!"

He scolded, only to hear Ning Xuexu crying silently.

Lin Wanggui accepted her as an apprentice since she was a child, but she also has parents, and she is also from the Ning family.

Fan Chengyun was so angry that he wanted to destroy everything, and he wanted to burn Fan Lin with a fire.

However, his furious eyes touched the portrait of Lin Wanggui, and he suppressed it habitually.

Fan Chengyun sighed, "When is the cremation tomorrow?"

Ning Xuexu answered clearly, "Departure at five o'clock, cremation at 06:30, and burial at eight o'clock."

"Go and rest, tomorrow morning we have to accompany Wanggui and your master."

The middle-aged man, who was still angry just now, fell down on the futon of worship, staring at the colorful and smiling portrait.

"I'll talk to him, and I'll see him off by myself."

Ning Xuexu didn't want to leave, she was driven away by Fan Chengyun.

A stubborn pianist who can obey Lin Wanggui's instructions and endure his temper.

It's a pity that the person who taught him patience is gone, so what else can he endure?

Fan Lin's late night was very cold, and Fan Chengyun's heart was icy cold.

He pulled the yellow, yellow and white paper money, lit them one by one, and burned them one by one.

In fact, he didn't believe in the nonsense about enjoying happiness after death, he just wanted to find something to do, so that he wouldn't really burn Fan Lin on the spur of the moment.

"You lied to me."

In the mourning hall where the coffin was temporarily placed, there was only Fan Chengyun's complaint.

"Before I went to France, you said you were fine, and you will be fine when I come back."

He laughed at himself, "You lied to me again."

The flames from the paper money jumped up and down, as if a dead old liar was justifying.

Fan Chengyun can imagine what he would say——

"I didn't lie to you, it's just that when the disease arrives in autumn and winter, I cough more. I don't feel bad."

"I'm sure I'll be fine when you come back, why can't I talk to you in such a spirit?"

Year after year, time after time.

When Lin Wanggui died, Fan Chengyun didn't know how serious his illness was.

Lin Wanggui lied to him, and Ning Xuexu lied to him.

Fan Chengyun stared at the colorful portrait, and suddenly asked, "What else have you ever lied to me about?"

"You said I am Yu Boya and you are Zhong Ziqi, are you lying to me?"

"You said that if I found the instrument from Yiyin Yashe, you would play on the same stage with me, are you lying to me?"

"You said that when I came back from France this time, you gave me a real surprise—"

Fan Chengyun's voice stopped abruptly.

His eyes were blurred and he couldn't continue speaking. He lowered his head and twisted the paper money, burning them silently one by one.

If this was the surprise that Lin Wanggui had prepared, then Fan Chengyun would really not be happy.

However, Lin Wanggui didn't answer, but just looked at him tenderly.

Candles and flames danced, Fan Chengyun stopped talking, just sat quietly.

The night wind howled, and it was cold after the rain.

In such a quiet courtyard, he could still hear the sound of jingling water, like strings of a piano.

Maybe he's old, maybe he's tired.

He actually heard the sound of the strings.

Ding.

ding ding.

The calls made Fan Chengyun straighten up suddenly.

He looked at the dark courtyard in disbelief, and there was an intermittent and clear sound, as if Lin Wanggui was tuning the strings!

"Want to return?"

Fan Chengyun got up from the ground, regained consciousness on his numb feet, "Looking back?"

Following the quiet sound of the piano, he walked towards the dark courtyard.

The sound of the piano became clearer and clearer, and gradually changed from a short sound to a melody——

Like weeping like complaining, like cutting like cutting!

That's not Lin Wanggui.

Fan Chengyun slowed down, lest he disturb the sound of nature.

Then, he saw a small figure sitting by the plantain pond.

In the night, the moonlight was faint, he raised his hand and brushed the strings, and the sound moved with the strings, making a lingering sound.

The sound range is far wider than that of the seven-stringed guqin, and it sounds like a pool of water in the night, cold and deserted.

It was a strange child.

He lowered his gaze, focusing on an unpainted piano blank in front of him.

The wooden billet has ten strings, and the wood should be paulownia, very much like the ten-string qin that Lin Wanggui told Fan Chengyun——

He said: "The complicated strings are suppressed, and the elegant rhyme is revived." It came from Cai Yong, so I followed Cai's five styles to make outings in spring, Lushui, secluded residence, and sitting in sorrow. Only the last autumn thought, I have to think carefully think.

It must be Autumn Thoughts of ten strings. If one is missing or one is more, it is not called Autumn Thoughts.

Fan Chengyun suppressed the violent beating in his heart.

He walked over, and the child's dark eyes looked at him.

"...What are you doing?" Fan Chengyun asked.

The child may be seven or eight years old. Hearing this, he stretched out his hands to touch the strings and pick the notes. The piano base vibrated with a gentle and lingering melody, just like the soft clouds lifted by his fingertips, floating slowly in the night.

"This is the wind that my grandfather gave me."

As soon as the clear childish voice fell, he swept his fingers across the strings, rolled the strings continuously, and the heron bathed in a vortex.

"This is the rain my grandfather left me."

He played the wind and rain innocently, splashing out a sad and low melody, as if he was in the state of mind at this time.

"Grandpa is gone, I want to protect him from the wind and rain."

Fan Chengyun felt sad when he heard this, and tears welled up.

The lingling strings, where the wind and rain are playing, are obviously the wind and waves sweeping the soul and the blood rain that hurts the heart!

He didn't know that Lin Wanggui had a grandson.

He has come and gone over the years, all he knows is that Lin Wanggui lost his only daughter.

Fan Chengyun suddenly felt that he had missed many, many things.

He squatted down, blocking the little child's moonlight, like a hateful adult.

Sure enough, the sad little boy looked at him with a short frown, and stopped playing the piano in his hand.

"What's your name?"

Fan Chengyun tried his best to make himself gentle and kind, but his voice was still sad and cold.

Fortunately, the little boy did not scare away.

He said, "My name is Zhong Ying."

Zhong Ying, Zhong Ying...

Fan Chengyun's eyes were red, and tears were pouring down like rain. This was the last answer to the five-tone twelve rhythm, and it was the response Lin Wanggui had been waiting for all along.

Fan Chengyun reached out and touched Zhong Ying's hair, rubbing the sad and confused little boy pitifully.

"Your grandpa didn't lie to me."

He laughed with tears all over his face.

"I am Yu Boya, and he is Zhong Ziqi. Otherwise, why would you be called Zhong Ying?"