——It seems we've been overtaken in the red-highlighted rankings — *scratches head*. Like I said before, I don't really mind. Having all of your support is more than enough for me. It's only been seven days of the new-book month, so there's still plenty of time.
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April 3rd — the Altor Music Festival.
The streets resounded with a rich, melodious bustle of music. Unlike his usual self — always in formal attire or evening dress — Lucian wore a simple brown-red overcoat, white shirt with black trousers, and a pair of comfortable shoes, strolling about with an easy, unhurried air. At his side trailed Evan, dressed up like a little gentleman.
Joel and Elisa wanted to relive the dates of their youth, so they had entrusted Evan to Lucian's care. Victor, meanwhile, was swamped entertaining the many foreign nobles, musicians, and instrumentalist friends who had arrived — hosting receptions, attending salons, and going to banquets every day without a moment's rest. Phyllis, Lot, and the others, as his students, were more than happy to help shoulder the busyness and attend such gatherings, since a broad network of connections was just as vital for musicians as it was for anyone else. Still, considering the pressure Lucian would face at the closing concert, they tacitly left him out of the invitations, letting him concentrate on his preparations.
Natasha, on one hand, had to play host to a distinguished guest like Prince Michel, and on the other, she had to attend to her lover Sylvia's concert — so she had temporarily forgotten all about Lucian, her "frenemy."
Lucian had at least hoped he'd have his good friend John for company, but as it turned out, John had been drafted to help maintain order on the streets due to a shortage of manpower.
"I can't believe that at such a romantic occasion as a music festival, I'm stuck babysitting," Lucian said with resignation, glancing at Evan, who was clutching food in both hands and chewing away without pause. He spread his hands toward John by the roadside. "This truly is a tragic story."
Evan was far too focused on his food to pay any attention to Lucian's complaints. John, keeping the peace by the roadside, couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Lucian, didn't several noble ladies invite you? Miss Evette of the Hill family, for instance."
After nearly half a year of Sir Vein's rigorous training, John had developed a much more composed and steady bearing. His bright golden hair was kept at just the right length, and paired with his silver-gray chainmail, he cut a handsome and dashing figure.
"…In that case, I'd better just focus on babysitting," Lucian said, taking Evan — who wasn't watching the road at all — and bidding farewell to John, before setting off to enjoy the festival.
After the music festival he would be leaving, and he didn't know whether he'd ever have the chance to return. So rather than staying cooped up at home, he had taken to the streets to "truly" participate in the celebration.
Compared to the past few days, the number of pedestrians and street performers hadn't increased dramatically — it was already bustling to begin with. The biggest change was that all the bands who had previously rented out rooms to hold concerts were now simply cordoning off open spaces on the streets and pouring their musical dreams right into the air.
What delighted Evan and the other children the most were the food stalls lined up along the roadside — pies, cheese, roasted meat, cakes, and all manner of sweets. The moment he finished whatever was in his hands, Evan's eyes would wander left and right, his mouth watering, before he subtly steered Lucian in the direction of whatever stall had caught his fancy.
In the center of the main avenue, decorated floats drawn by bull-like four-horned creatures lumbered past one by one, each carrying a band of some renown performing their music for the crowds.
In this atmosphere, Lucian strolled along with Evan at a leisurely pace. Whenever he spotted a concert hall, he would walk straight in, listen quietly to a piece or two, then smile and step back out onto the street, wandering on before repeating the whole process — following his heart, free and unrestrained, unbound by anything, forgetting all his worries and all the weight pressing down on him.
During the Altor Music Festival, every concert hall except the Sacred Hymn Hall offered tickets at absurdly low prices — often four or five copper nanars would get you in for an entire afternoon. Quite a few halls, subsidized by "musicians" or orchestras eager to make a name for themselves, were even free to attend.
This was a true music festival for everyone.
As noon approached, Lucian led Evan to a restaurant along the street — one that was lively yet not chaotic.
"Big Brother Lucian, look…" Just before stepping inside, Evan pointed at the large wooden sign by the door and read aloud: "'Dear guests, to celebrate our shared music festival, if you are willing to perform a piece here in the restaurant, we will waive half your meal bill. And if your performance receives enthusiastic applause from the audience, you may enjoy your lunch or dinner entirely free of charge.'"
Under the tutelage of Lucian and John, Evan could already manage to recognize most words.
Lucian laughed. "The owner of this restaurant is certainly generous. But it's only at a place like this that you can truly feel the spirit of the music festival."
Stepping inside, guided by a waitress, Lucian and Evan at last found a small table — every other spot in the place was already packed.
Lucian ordered two servings of lemon-juice steak, then settled into his seat, a smile on his face as he watched the small stage in the center of the restaurant. An elderly gentleman was laboriously playing the piano there — it was clear he had never studied the instrument. Notes tumbled out in a jumbled mess, quite deserving of the name "noise."
Yet the old man played with utter seriousness, as though he were conducting his very own concert.
When he finished, the entire restaurant erupted in warm applause — for his courage, for his persistence, and for the sheer joy of taking part in the music festival.
"This gentleman shall enjoy his lunch free of charge!" declared the restaurant owner, a man in his thirties wearing spectacles, clapping vigorously. "Now then — who would like to go up next?"
No one laughed; there was only encouragement. This atmosphere infected more and more people, and soon a growing number of diners took the stage to perform on the violin, viola, piano, flute, and other instruments, letting melodies ring through the hall without pause.
Though the thunderous applause the old man had received never quite repeated — most of what followed was more encouraging than rapturous — for those performers, the experience was like holding their very own concert, fulfilling a lifelong dream. Paired with the half-price meal bill, everyone walked away satisfied and elated.
Lucian, like Evan, savored his steak while immersing himself in the joyful, bustling atmosphere, clapping heartily after each and every performer's turn.
The restaurant's infectious warmth drew in more and more passersby, who came in to dine.
They quickly became absorbed in the mood, and even those who couldn't find seats preferred to stand along the walls with their plates, watching the show.
Piora and Sharon, having finished their morning performances and on the hunt for food, noticed this peculiar restaurant.
"Oh, Piora, go up and perform!" Leslie, having figured out what was going on, immediately egged Piora on, practically bursting with eagerness to try it himself.
Piora didn't refuse. He walked up to the stage with visible excitement and drew his bow across the violin. A light, spirited waltz unfurled with the melody, each note flowing into the next, and soon everyone in the restaurant couldn't help but hum along and sway to the rhythm, pushing the already lively atmosphere to an even more feverish heat.
A tidal wave of applause washed over Piora. He had never received a welcome like this before, and so moved was he that he played an encore before finally leaving the stage.