"
Although the melody of Lucian's piano composition still had many imperfections and issues with the performance, their emotions had been stirred to resonance by the music — and they harbored not the slightest doubt about the piece's power and grandeur. If Mr. Victor refined it and arranged it into a symphony, it would undoubtedly be the most exhilarating symphony in the past century, the most beautiful and dazzling jewel on the crown of symphonic music. And yet, Mr. Victor had actually refused?! He had refused the opportunity to become a renowned, legendary musician!
This drove them to cry out instinctively, wanting to stop Victor and persuade him. Even Phyllis, standing to the side, wore an expression of disbelief — in her place, faced with such temptation and such music, she certainly would have been unable to refuse.
After making his decision, Victor seemed to have undergone an elevation and liberation, his spirit radiant. He pressed his right hand downward in a gesture for silence, then turned his gaze back to Lucian.
"Mr. Victor…" Lucian knew that short of resorting to Arcane Magic, there was no way to persuade a man whose willpower was this resolute. Victor might waver, might fall into despair, might break down — but he would never go against his own convictions. So Lucian simply murmured his name once and then stopped, consoling himself in his heart: *Fortunately, under the influence of the music, Mr. Victor has reinvigorated his spirits and recovered his form. Even with the symphonies from before, supported by two entirely new compositions, the concert will certainly be a success — just not quite perfect.*
Seeing Lucian's expression, Victor smiled. He placed his right hand over his chest and gave Lucian a slight bow. "Thank you, Lucian. You let me hear music this beautiful, this powerful, this soul-shaking. It is the most moving piece I have ever listened to — a gift from the Lord. It has given me an entirely new understanding of music."
"Lucian, would you grant me the honor of presenting such a magnificent piece to everyone as conductor at my concert? I can hardly wait to share this excitement with all — this tenacity and resolve the Lord has shown us, the refusal to ever yield in the face of difficulty and setbacks."
"Huh?" Lucian had not expected such a reversal and was momentarily stunned.
Seeing Lucian freeze, Victor continued with a touch of humor: "Are you unwilling, Lucian?"
Lucian snapped back to his senses and hurriedly replied: "Not at all, Mr. Victor — please, use it freely. I'm just… just surprised. Isn't this your concert?"
"A conductor can step into the spotlight now and then. Besides, you're still my student." Victor resumed his usual gentle smile.
"Idiot…" Phyllis's leather boot brushed softly against the carpet, her voice so low that almost no one could hear — carrying a deep mix of envy and relief. This was Mr. Victor treating Lucian as a true disciple. And being able to arrange this piece into a symphony for performance would surely make Mr. Victor's concert a tremendous success, which meant the rest of them would also reap considerable "benefits."
Performing a newcomer's work at one's own concert and introducing him to the world — letting his composition receive recognition and his fame soar — was something a musician would only do for a true disciple.
Even so, Phyllis found that she did not feel the anger she had expected. The piece had moved her too deeply; she was entirely unable to criticize Lucian's musical talent. Before the music he had played, all she could feel was helpless surrender and a faint trace of jealousy.
This same shift of emotions stirred within Lot and Herodotus as well.
Only after hearing that whispered "idiot" did Lucian understand Mr. Victor's meaning. For things to end this way was far beyond what he had anticipated. He could only nod and say: "I am honored, Mr. Victor."
"Lucian, did you truly compose this? If there's any problem, it will cost Mr. Victor every shred of his reputation." Suddenly a voice rang out. Herodotus, after a long silence and violent fluctuations in emotion, finally spoke through clenched fists, his expression somewhat twisted — uncertain whether he was hoping Lucian would answer "yes" or "no."
By now, the others had also gradually emerged from the aftershock of the music's impact, and they remembered that Lucian was a mere beginner who had been studying music for less than two months. Three weeks ago, he had claimed to have found inspiration and begun attempting to compose — but had he actually managed to write a piece? And one this magnificent and soul-stirring?
Could he truly be a prodigious musical genius? Could he truly be a gem buried beneath the dust?
Incredulous, disbelieving eyes converged on Lucian's face, awaiting his answer. Only Rhein and Victor regarded him with smiles tinged with mild curiosity, appreciation, and surprise. They would never believe that someone who had composed such a piece could remain obscure — especially when they themselves, who had immersed themselves in the world of music for so many years, had never heard anything like it. The only thing that surprised them was that Lucian's musical talent far exceeded anything they had imagined.
Lucian felt a faint, wry bitterness in his heart, mocking himself that while he did have principles, his moral standards were indeed far below Mr. Victor's.
But he quickly reined in those emotions with calm rationality. The situation had already progressed to this point, and there was no other explanation to offer. So he put on a smile: "Yes. They are inspirations I've gathered over a long time. It's just that without a proper musical education before, I couldn't transform those inspirations into the melodies I wanted."
"These inspirations come from my life — from the repression, pain, despair, and hopelessness of the slums. Every time I see the fine clothes other people wear, the exquisite food they eat, the life they enjoy that I can never so much as approach, I want to break free from the fate that seems to have been arranged for me, and fight for a future of my own."