Chapter 70: Her Tune

Why did that man appear at the wrong time? I wiped away my tears and stood up resentfully to snatch it back.

"Mr. Donovan, I admit that you know the piano, you know the art, but I don't understand you," I said.

"The first time I saw your smile, heard your music, I felt the love and emotion overflowing from your soul. You can convey your happiness to people who don't understand music," he told me. He pulled my sleeves and raised my hands in front of my eyes, "If I hadn't witnessed the performance, I would not have believed that you could play such moving music with your bleeding fingers."

I was feeling terrible and wasted my energy talking to him. I fixed my hair and continued to walk towards the school.

"Why do you hate yourself so much?" his words hit my heart. He understood not only art and the piano but also me. I was a little stiff.

"Desiree Li, let us sign a contract. I promise you will achieve your dream," Shawn said.

"I don't need others to help me achieve my dream," I said.

If my dream was to move people with my music, I had already done that. If my dream was to continue to play that classic song, it would not go on forever. After two years and countless tears and pain, long days and nights, eventually, I stood up with the brightest smile and bowed to the audience as I listened to their intense applause.

My success was brought about by the one who bought the piano for me when I was nine; who opened the future to me when I was eighteen.

When I was still on the stage, the professor rushed to embrace me tightly.

"Teacher, I finally succeeded!" I said with such excitement.

Amidst the applause, I went backstage. Steven was waiting for me with tulips in his hands; he was dressed in a suit. I took the flowers over and embraced him, "Dear brother, I succeeded."

He patted my back gently, and his arms were trembling with excitement. "I knew that one day you would perform it with smiles. You finally succeeded," he said.

"I would never cry when playing that song," I said. One could forget someone, just by keeping yourself busy and o think about anything.

But it was hard to put emotion into the music by recollecting the sorrow again and again in front of the piano. Consequently, over the past two years, I put all my efforts into bearing the penetrating sorrow, not to forget it!

"I feel relieved," Steven sighed and smiled' saying, "Desiree, I will treat you tonight to celebrate your first step towards great success."

"Okay, I will call you after the competition," I said.

"Well, I will make a reservation," he said.

After he left, I began to remove the makeup and change my clothes. And some acquaintances and student contestants came to congratulate me.

While I was packing up my things, an intruder appeared. I tried to ignore him, but he pulled up a chair to sit down next to me. It seemed that he intended to have a long talk with me, not just to congratulate me.

I was in a good mood, so it was not annoying to see Shawn. Then I smiled and nodded my head.

He said, "Eventually, I know why you always play soothing songs."

"Yes?" I said as I packed my clothes.

"Because your pathetic song drives people to suicide," he said, "You, God's favorite genius, can do something like that to people." Then he added, "Can I invite you for the dinner to talk about the contract?"

I opened my eyes even wider and asked, "Are businessmen all so persistent and stubborn?"

"You may think so," he replied.

"Mr. Donovan, there are many girls who play the piano well, it is easier to talk to them," I pointed at several girls who glimpsed at him.

He shook his head and watched my little, grave face and said, "I just want to talk to you."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you are the best, and I just want to sign the best one," Shawn said casually.

I looked at him in surprise, "How do you know the result, it isn't over yet."

"I have inquired with the judges," he told me.

"Why are you so confident in yourself?" he asked. I packed my stage clothes into my bag. It was not a matter of confidence. There wasn't any justice in the world, even in pure art everything was controlled by authority and money.