Chapter 63 (2/2)

Min Chen’s piano was the best in the world. The man started at seven years old, and Min Chen had shown amazing talent since.

He was the youngest Xiaosai champion at twelve and had performed on the same stage as Wei Ai. When people mentioned Min Chen, regardless of his achievements as a conductor and composition since, he was still called a pianist.

Qi Mu was confident in his skill but not to that high of a degree.

Min Chen’s piano was on the same level as Akkad’s violin. If what Akkad just said was true. . . the gap between Qi Mu and Akkad himself was only that much?!

Akkad nodded seriously. “Yes, Small Seven, you’re not wrong. If God gave classical music a benchmark, Auston’s come very close, and you. . . you are also very close.”

“Small Seven, I didn’t believe I should be your teacher because. . . I always thought my student would be like me, a child with ordinary origin. Someone that worked hard, was diligent; someone I would mold into a brilliant violinist under my own fingers.”

Akkad had never said such to Qi Mu before, but when he looked at the old man across from him, Qi Mu’s heart trembled with the essence of destiny.

“When I heard your sound, I was surprised. . . Everything Farrell told me was nonsense! He said when you were fourteen, you performed with the Vienna Symphony, that you were a well-known music prodigy. Your parents were well-known musicians in China. You’re not short on money. You even have that beautiful piece in a Swiss bank somewhere!”

Akkad cursed eccentrically then added, “I thought you were an arrogant brat, but after listening to you. . . Small Seven, you and I made the same mistake.”

Qi Mu set down his coffee cup and asked, “Teacher, I don’t understand. . .”

“You are not arrogant enough.”

The answer was clearly beyond Qi Mu’s expectation.

“I started learning to play the violin at six. After sixty years, I thought I was talented enough, hardworking enough. I became concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra when I was thirty. At the time, I still couldn’t get rid of it. . . that one thing in my music.”

“You know, Small Seven. My family was bad. I had to borrow a state loan to attend a music university. I believe that my poor upbringing gave me the motivation to go up in life. I had to prove to everyone that I could do it better than them. But, when I was forty-five, I heard Farrell’s music, and I finally understood. . . the distance between him and I.”

Farrell was also an excellent violinist, and though he and Akkad were both to be revered, Qi Mu believed Akkad was higher than Farrell.

Akkad’s judgment now surprised Qi Mu.

“Farrell is really the darling of God. Back then, I guarantee that if my violin counted 99 points, that abominable man could only get 90 and no more. But I knew that I was missing that one point, and Farrell. . . Farrell already had it.”

Akkad laughed a little, rare and profound, then he looked at the stunned young man in front of him and said gently, “Small Seven, my point is, in music, we are confident. But, Farrell, Auston, they have never doubted themselves.”

“Small Seven, you are not confident enough.”

The professor’s words were few, but they were poignant.

“You’re not confident enough.”

Never had anyone ever said that to Qi Mu, in this life or the last. Perhaps Min Chen and Farrell picked out that something was missing in his music, but they couldn’t find it intuitively.

Only Akkad, who had the same life experiences as Qi Mu, could understand the core of the problem.

A poor family, the motivation to work diligently, but, at the same time, the lack of freedom to what they wanted in their childhood.

To learn music, Qi Mu never knew what it was like to play as a child. When he was young, he delivered milk and newspapers and so on. Even when he was older, he played the violin at a café.

This accumulation of life experiences gave Qi Mu a unique sentiment toward music, but from another perspective, it also. . . shackled him.

“Seven, you and Auston are only this one point apart, but. . . it’s not so easy to get. Are you ready to surpass him in a year?”

Akkad’s serious tone dragged Qi Mu from his thoughts of the past. The word “surpass” shook his heart. He looked up at Akkad and smiled.

The handsome young man wore a beautiful smile, but after a while, a low, pleasant voice echoed in the quiet music room——

“A year is long, Teacher. . . can we shorten it?”