Chapter 62 (1/2)

Akkad’s questioning had Min Chen speechless. His fierce Phoenix eyes narrowed, then he sighed. “Reed, you’ve played the violin for over sixty years. Do you think. . . it’s possible for two people to sound the same?”

Stunned, Akkad shook his head. “Impossible. Even in different stages of life, the same person’s style and skill will make them sound different.” After a pause, he asked, curious, “Min, why ask such a simple question?”

The shadowy lighting in the car made everything bleak. Even when they passed a light on the side of the road, it barely highlighted the outline of Min Chen’s profile so Akkad couldn’t gauge his expression.

Min Chen’s eyebrows furrowed, and he whispered, “Qi Mu’s violin. . . sounds a lot like someone I knew.” He added afterward, “That man was important to me. He helped me with something long ago, but he died young.”

Akkad nodded, feeling guilty, and said, “I’m sorry Min. . . I didn’t expect that.”

“It doesn’t matter. His music sounds very similar, and I was concerned. But I don’t want to cast too much attention on him.” Min Chen nodded a little and stared into the darkness ahead of them. “He’s talented and diligent, so teach him properly. It’s not a problem for me.”

Akkad was also in favor. “Yes, if you can continue like this, not afraid of trouble, it’ll be good for a lot of potential newcomers.

It wasn’t much later that the car came to a stop outside the two-story building Akkad called home. The atmosphere between them had returned to its humorous beginning. Akkad draped his coat over his arm and got out.

Before he got far, however, he turned and hurried back to knock on the window. Min Chen looked up at him in bewilderment and rolled down the window.

The little old man stared at the handsome man sitting in the car and asked in a solemn tone, “Min. That still doesn’t explain why you’re so good to my lovely Small Seven. . . Are you not homosexual?”

This question had been tossed to the back of his mind, but now he brought it up again. Min Chen was a little stunned.

Min Chen’s dark eyes flashed with humor, and he raised them to look him in the eye. He asked blandly, “Oh? Did I say I wasn’t gay?”

Akkad: “. . .”

Once Min Chen had spoken, the driver, aware of Min Chen’s temper, stepped on the gas and pulled away from the curb.

On a quiet, empty street in Paris, a little old man dropped his coat in resentment and shouted after a beautiful Bentley.

“Auston Bertram! You insidious demon! You really approached my lovely student with such ill intentions! You demon!!!”

At the violent cries behind him, the man in the car pursed his lips into a smile.

. . . Was he gay?

Well, that question would have to be directed to his future wife and what gender they were.

And if that was Qi Mu. . .

The name sprang to mind, and Min Chen stilled. After a long time, he rubbed at his temples and expelled the thought. Still, the warmth in his chest tugged at the corners of his mouth.

The brain said it wasn’t reasonable.

But the heart. . . the heart said it wasn’t wrong?

After attending the Bai Ai concert, Qi Mu thought the days of messing around were over. But the next day, he waited for half an hour in the music room, but Akkad did not show.

Qi Mu dialed his teacher’s number and listened as the eccentric old man said in surprise, “Didn’t you see the email I sent you last night, Seven? Today, we’re going to the Louvre so show up at nine.”

Qi Mu: “. . .”

Luckily, at least he had brought along the big full-frame SLR camera?

The Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the River Seine, the Palace of Versailles. . .

Paris was a famous tourist city for its romantic attractions. There were fewer attractions that in B City, but they still had three full days of walking around and a thousand photos taken from different angles.

Some were pure scenery, others of the two together, most of them were photos of Qi Mu taken by the professor. Akkad strictly demanded a smile and often times funny poses.

By the third day, the last landscape photographed was the banks of the Seine. The beautiful river was akin to a long, jade belt as it reflected the light with jewel-like fluorescence.

Numerous tourists walked along the river and, in the crowd, this pair of a handsome young man and short old man——it must have looked a little weird.

“Small Seven, remember to be at the music room at eight tomorrow.”

Qi Mu was looking at the photographs but looked up, feeling out of place. It was like waiting for chocolate every day but getting a cake each day and now finally being told: tomorrow we’ll eat chocolate!

——At least, that’s probably what it was like.

. . . Qi Mu couldn’t be blamed too much, though. He had seen so much chocolate these days and wanted a detour.