After leaving the piano, Qin Jian stood up and looked at the living room that he had ruined in the past two days. It was no longer as clean and tidy as Ye Yi had tidied up before.

"Tidy up."

Some people have finished their morning exercise, and some people have started their morning exercise.

...

Austria.

Vienna time, 05:53, the sky is still gray.

In the first area of ​​the Lujue Apartment on Markstein Street, a room with a light on is slightly conspicuous.

In the luxuriously decorated room, the most eye-catching thing is the medals and trophies hanging on the wall.

It can be said that this is a wall built by honor. Opposite the wall is a grand piano.

Adams sat down at the piano at six o'clock sharp as usual.

The fingers fall and the piano sounds, and the scales cut through the dawn.

His life has become much more regular in the past year, which makes his agent Alina very happy.

Although Adams' choice to withdraw from the Mozart final caused an uproar in the entire industry at the time, Alina, as her agent, quickly suppressed the incident through various means.

Since then, Adams seemed to have changed. He no longer hung out in midnight sensual places, also gave up all commercial activities, and spent every day quietly in front of the piano.

All this made Alina seem to see the Adams she had just met.

Healthy, positive and upward.

At noon, Alina listened to the sound of the piano outside the door and opened the door to the apartment with the key card.

"Butterfly?"

As if she had returned to her own home, Alina casually threw her handbag onto the sofa in the living room, not caring whether her words would interrupt the performer's mood. "Have you decided on the track yet?"

Facing the agent's question, Adams moved his mouth while pushing the melody: "Good question."

Until the end of the piece, he left the piano.

Looking at Alina on the sofa, she said, "Contact Mark for me this afternoon."

Alina was a little surprised, but she nodded, "What about now? Are you hungry?"

Adams raised the corners of his mouth and slowly walked towards the sofa.

A wicked smile looked particularly charming under his long golden hair, exuding a sense of charm that was irresistible to women.

"Yes."

As he spoke, he extended his left hand to the female agent unceremoniously.

"Wait, wait a minute, the ticket...ya...uh...uh..."

Alina had no chance to speak. She came here at noon to tell Adams about going to Warsaw - maybe there were other purposes.

The next scene is full of indescribable European and American style.

It’s true that Mark is a barber, and the sofa is indeed a good battlefield.

Having fun under the warm sunshine in the afternoon is no worse than the quiet atmosphere at midnight.

But not all afternoons have warm sunshine.

Not all battlefields are glamorous.

...

Syria.

Idlib time, 12:21, rainy and snowy.

At this time, half of the city was celebrating in the scorched earth after the gunfire and smoke.

Recently, the Kurdish armed forces and the Free Coalition have made a decisive breakthrough in the battle against IS, completely reversing IS's offensive position on the Syrian battlefield. After years of siege, the rebels finally captured Syria's second provincial capital Idli today.

predict.

This is a staged victory for one of the parties.

It also gave this dilapidated city a moment of respite.

Because of this protracted war and in order to protect the safety of teachers and students, Idlib University has suspended classes for several months.

But no one nearby knew that a special pair of teachers and students had been living in the teaching building with only half of the white walls left.

Today is also a special day for this special pair of teachers and students.

"Ido, it's time for us to set off."

It seemed that on a simple temporary stage, next to an ordinary piano, old Assad was talking to the young man in front of the piano.

When the young man who was called Ido heard his name, he raised his head with a silly smile on his face and muttered, "Let's go... let's go..."

"Yes, put your sheet music away now, we will take the bus to Damascus later."

Upon hearing the word Damascus, a glimmer of clarity flashed through the eyes of the handsome Ido, and then chaos returned.

"Music score...music score..."

He murmured and suddenly looked around, his arms uncontrollably gesturing in front of him, still muttering "My music score... where is the music score..."

"The music is on your music stand!!"

A roar seemed to wake up Ido a little. Hearing the teacher's voice, he stopped panicking and looked ahead, and sure enough he found the music score.

As if she had found her own treasure, Ido slowly sorted it out.

"Here, put on your shoes."

Old Assad came over with a brand new black leather shoe and said, "Pick up your feet."

Ido stretched out his feet awkwardly, and old Assad knelt down and put on his shoes for him.

Ido packed up the music and old Assad stood up.

The teacher and student looked at each other.

moment.

Old Assad bent down and held Ido's face with his hands, staring at him.

Ido seemed to want to escape the gaze, but he couldn't twist his neck and could only look at his teacher.

"Tell me, what are we going to do?"

Old Assad asked softly.

Ido swallowed and spat out: "We... want to win."

After hearing Ido's words, the wrinkles on old Assad's forehead relaxed.

He stood up and put Ido's head on his chest, caressing Ido's head kindly: "That's right, good boy."

Looking out the window at the smoke left by the war in the city, he said: "We want to win."

After a long time, he patted Ido on the shoulder and said, "Okay, it's time for us to set off. This journey is not easy."

After that, he walked towards the packed luggage. He knew that he and Ido still had a long way to go before Warsaw.

behind.

Ido slowly picked up a pair of crutches leaning against the piano.

He skillfully set it up and followed the old Assad with difficulty.

"To win...to win every game...I know...I know...I know..."

"We want to win..."

...

Tokyo...

New York...

Paris...

Hamburger...

Busan...

Singapore...

London...

Hoh Xil...

St. Petersburg...

There is still one week left until the date of the preliminary report of the Chopin Competition, and the 160 contestants from all over the world who have qualified for the competition are busy.

Adams and Ido are just a microcosm of the crowd.
To be continued...