KOCM

91-95

Chapter 91

ar in his hands. Though there were differences between his and Qi Mu's technique, his performance showed the aesthetic romance unique to Parisians.

Farrell was a French musician. Because he was the current conductor, his musical style deeply influenced the orchestra. It made Dresden, once classically German, romantic and gentle.

Although Qi Mu felt helpless in the face of each "Angel" the master uttered, he had to admit he was young and less experienced compared to the other man. During the three days of practice, he listened to the master's guidance with the utmost respect and soon won his recognition.

With a smile, the master said, "Angel, if you perform 《The Lark》 for next week's assessment, I believe. . . it will be hard to find someone across all of Paris to accompany you."

Qi Mu interjected, politely, "Thank you for your advice, Master Farrell. But. . . Professor didn't seem like he wanted me to take the assessment with this piece."

Over the two weeks of practice, Akkad gave him three pieces to perfect and proclaimed that when he got back to Paris, he would personally listen to Qi Mu performances.

To be recognized by Reed Akkad?

Well. . . It was even harder than gaining Farrell's approval.

Akkad's temper was so much worse. He wouldn't let even the speck of a flaw pass.

Farrell frowned. "That fellow just wants you to play a full-court song and make his own prestige rise. 《The Lark》 is only two minutes long, but I think Angel's 《The Lark》 could take first place."

Farrel laughed, "Angel, play this piece. I'll let Reed know. How can he treat his lovely student so harshly? Reed is so insensitive, you're practicing hard every day with so little time to relax."

Farrell was right. Before he saw Qi Mu's dutiful practice, he would never believe a 22-year-old could, and would, practice from 8 am to 8 pm every single day.

Moreover, the pieces he practiced were never simple. Each and every one of them required a high level of skill.

The students at Paris' National Conservatory of Music were all so excellent, and most would become the backbone of the industry a decade after their graduation. If the pieces Qi Mu practiced every day were handed to Dylan next door, it would take him at least a week to prepare.

The deadlines Akkad set for Qi Mu were never more than 3 days.

Such strong pressure concerned Farrell. But, to his surprise, the beautiful young man in front of him shook his head. "Mr. Farrell, Professor hopes I can graduate early, so don't stop him. He knows my limits. Please don't worry."

The bright sunshine illuminated the pristine room like a golden awn. It shone from behind Qi Mu, surrounding him with a thin golden halo, hazy and gentle.

Farrell was stunned. He automatically reached for his phone and unlocked the screen. He had to make sure this scene was captured.

Qi Mu frowned. "Master Farrel, did you. . . ?"

"Oh, Angel, you're so cute! Your teacher hasn't seen you for a long time, he must miss you a lot, eh? I took your picture and sent it over to show him his lovely student. Now he's even livelier!"

Qi Mu: ". . ."

I really don't know what these maestros are thinking...

Qi Mu started to practice the next piece Akkad gave him.

The master at his side, whose head was bowed as he tapped on his phone's screen, only offered an occasional comment as he chatted in a very active group chat.