On the premiere day of July 20th, dawn has completely arrived.
The warm summer morning light is driving away the darkness of the office inch by inch.
Also arriving with him were the two chief inspectors of the Special Inspection Department, seven senior investigators, and the impenetrable spiritual wall.
Is this the third time you’ve said hello with a pat on the shoulder?
A simple number in He Meng's words allowed Fan Ning to basically understand the true progress of the current situation.
Surrounded by everyone, Fan Ning slowly turned around and walked back from the window to the desk where Norma Gunn was sitting.
He lowered his head, leaned forward, and put the scattered music scores on the table back into place.
Then he went around behind her and carefully put the letter into the drawer.
"Are you sure you don't want to listen to the show? There are some people I want to see again." Fan Ning's tone seemed a little sad.
At the same time, he raised the porcelain cup on the table and slowly drank the small amount of boiled water.
"There are still 13 minutes." The female inspector gave a cold reminder.
Fan Ning looked around at the displays in the room, then closed his eyes and opened them again, shook his head and smiled coldly:
"Then please, everyone."
At 5:40 in the morning, with only dim security lights on the aisle, Fanning strolled down the red carpet.
He passed by Sheeran's exclusive guest room next door, but didn't turn around or slow down.
Keep moving forward without looking back.
The figures and footsteps behind are like ghosts, and dense spiritual barriers follow them like shadows.
He went to several dry storage rooms one after another and took out the nine paintings that had been inspected one by one.
Including five forgeries, including four other original works that also made the Special Patrol Office suspicious. The real works are still in the cloakroom, but in fact it doesn't matter if they are handed over to the Special Patrol Office. The initiative for sublimation is in your own hands.
The investigator next to him took the nine canvases and rolled them up.
Finally, in the S-shaped exhibition hall area of the Turner Art Museum, everyone followed him into a circular souvenir sales room.
A shelf containing exquisite picture albums moved out of thin air.
Going in circles will not change the outcome. Instead, violent searches or violence will destroy this art palace and threaten the lives of your companions.
Salman sighed: "It is a good isolation ritual. If it is completely aimless, it is really difficult to pay attention to. If it were not for the re-examination of various clues and the key revelations of the 'disaster', we would have thought it was special."
The secret of the Museum of Fine Arts ends here."
"After you brought out "The Room of Pain", you sublimated into this rear, right?" He Meng's silver cane touched the wall: "Familiarity...strangeness...I'm curious about how you disguised yourself as Wa Xiu
He has not been discovered yet, so how true is the content of your report to the leader at the meeting?"
"Can lies hide his mysterious knowledge?" Fan Ning shook his head and chuckled, "What I said are naturally guesses that I think are true. You have to judge whether they are right or wrong."
Under He Meng's methods, these walls seemed to gradually melt like wax, changing from a solid state to a viscous colloid state.
"Commander Fan Ning, you are familiar with it." He made an inviting gesture.
"There is no need to use this kind of excuse to force someone to open the way. Do you think I dare to go there without the company of you guys?"
Fan Ning asked in a calm tone, but he did not refuse to cooperate unnecessarily. He directly stretched out his hand and squeezed in through the sticky wax glue layer.
At the top of the black stone brick road, gems and minerals shine with an idiosyncratic shimmer. The ritual vessel "consecration curtain" hangs quietly above it, and the witness talisman of the "tower builder" circulates with electric light.
After passing a certain vertical plane, the foul smell of rot instantly filled the throat and nose.
Fan Ning squatted by the well and saw Gang's black figure slowly condensing next to it.
When she discovered that there was a bottomless well behind the secret door and smelled an unpleasant stench, she frowned and understood Fan Ning's intention in setting up this secret ritual.
Then he turned back to Salman, the third one who squeezed through the wall and climbed up, and said, "You guys get off first."
"Okay, Miss Oka." After Salman accepted the order, he and six other investigators grabbed the handrails on the well wall and entered.
Fan Ning naturally understood what they meant and followed them into the well without saying a word.
Then came the two Insighters. When He Meng was the last one to enter the well, he sealed the wellhead with a thick wax shell, and the semi-melted wall wallpaper outside gradually returned to its normal state.
It was as if yesterday's experience was repeated, but instead of two companions that could be relied on, there were nine enemies, seven in front and two in back, surrounding him.
After Fan Ning climbed down about thirty meters, he discovered a strange anomaly.
"Why do the handrails on the well wall always have a slightly slippery feeling this time?"
He continued downward, during which time his palms quietly touched the stone bricks on the well wall several times, and then found that these stone bricks were full of large and small cracks, and still had a slippery feel.
Obviously when I explored it before, the stone bricks felt tight and smooth to the touch.
Could it be said that something happened or is happening underneath the art museum?
Fan Ning secretly kept this in mind.
"Do you know the whereabouts of the wreckage of the 'old days'?" Norma Oang was obviously more than one meter above her, but her cold voice seemed to be coming from her ears.
"Why don't you just say that I have the wreckage? After all, I named the band after it."
"How deep is this?"
"You should ask the digger." Fan Ning responded to her question calmly.
For various well-known reasons, his intense irritability was written on his face.
He Meng, who has been secretly speculating on his words and deeds, is not aware of this. Since Vincent built an art museum here after coming out of the abnormal zone, he must also need the "Fountain in the Painting" to do something. He thinks that Fan
Ning knows some information and is making preparations for exploration, but there is a high probability that the preparations are not completed and he has not had time to go in.
"Sir, we haven't seen any signs of bottoming out yet." Salman's heavy voice came from the bottom.
Dark vertical passages, long descents, mechanical repetitive movements.
For a period of time that was somewhat monotonous and without any serious conflicts, Fan Ning took advantage of the little calm to mentally consider the current situation, the odds of winning, and the final possible progress.
The Special Inspectorate highly doubts their relationship with the wreckage of the "old days", but the purpose of this trip should be mainly related to the wreckage of the "Fountain in the Painting" at the site of the "Grand Palace School". After all, in their view, they are pretending to be
The purpose of Vasius going to the Sealing Room was to steal the "Room of Pain", which was completely consistent with the content of the report on the "Gate of Seven Lights" at the United Dream Conference.
That command post will never go back again. Either it will stand in there for a long time, or it will solve the trouble and return to the surface in advance, and then escape from all this before the pursuit comes.
However, the emergence of the Second Symphony is an irreversible fact. The nature and mission of the discussion group are destined to be unable to obliterate a true work of art. It is destined to be performed by the world one day, and it will not be long.
Fan Ning had left the note he was supposed to leave last night, and at that moment he felt an unprecedented sense of relief.
I spent this time with awe, concentration and restraint, not letting down art, not letting anyone down, and not needing to consider any influence other than myself.
The few "shooting opportunities" left by his father Vincent are his biggest support. The invisible power of the third level of Shu Xiao is a huge threat to He Meng and Gang, but can it seriously injure or even kill them? Fan Ning finds it difficult to say.
, this is different from Vincent's unlimited hands-on work. The biggest advantage is that they may not expect this - they are just a ninth-level knowledgeable person with an essential gap between them and the enlightened ones. Facing seven similar people,
Even a high-ranking investigator would be overwhelmed.
Now going deeper here, the unknown environment is also a huge threat. If you kill the enemy but can't escape, it will be in vain. Look at their actions and intentions first, and don't act rashly.
And if you take action, you have to catch them all off guard at once, kill all those who can be killed, and defeat as many as possible.
Fan Ning, who was climbing down the escalator, had a calm expression and was breathing evenly, but the murderous intent in his eyes had flashed past inadvertently.
…
Six forty in the morning.
Sheeran woke up about half an hour earlier than usual, but when she opened her eyes, she found that Qiong had gotten up early to change clothes, and was sitting on the sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the room, staring out the window in a daze.
This was indeed a bit unusual, but she didn't ask much other than saying good morning to each other. After a simple wash, she put on her pajamas and opened the door of the music director's office, which was only a few meters away.
The door was unlocked, he didn't have the habit of smoking, and the air in the office was filled with the fresh and familiar smell of wood.
The desk surface is clean and orderly, with his bow tie and pocket watch next to the pen holder, a thin suit jacket draped on the chair, and a stack of books and music scores neatly placed in the middle.
There was also a breakfast plate that was obviously just delivered by the maid and was still steaming hot.
He hasn't gotten up yet today?
The work and rest habit he has developed over the past six months is that the attendant will deliver the meal to the office on time at half past six, and then he will already be sitting here to start eating.
After Xilan glanced at the table, she stepped on her slippers, tiptoed to the living room door on one side, knocked on the door gently and said in a low voice:
"Good morning, Carolne."
"Are you up yet?"
She smiled and leaned the side of her head against the door.
"Carolon, can you order another breakfast for me?"
When she received no response, the girl smiled and blinked, stood there for a few minutes, and then knocked on the door softly and called several times.
"If you don't get up, I'll eat all the vegetable and fruit salad in your portion first."
"Drink the milk too."
Finally, a trace of doubt flashed in Xilan's eyes, and she picked up the keychain Fan Ning gave her from her pocket.
He has never slept for such a long time. Even if he hasn't gone out yet, he should be washing and changing clothes.
After a little hesitation, she opened Fan Ning's living room door.
The morning light illuminates the spacious three-section room, and the silhouette of the black grand piano in the distance shines with gold edges.
The light blue plant-patterned sheets are flat and clean, the pillows are in place, and the white blankets are neatly folded.
There was no movement in the bathroom either.
After saying goodbye late at night, didn't he go into the room to sleep?
Why did he suddenly chat with me so much last night, which seemed to be the second time this year besides the day of Ms. Hamilton's funeral? Why did he smile and ask me about my birthday gift two months later?
Xilan's heart suddenly became anxious and uneasy.
She walked quickly back to Fan Ning's desk outside.
The top cover of the pile of books and music scores is "Choral Teaching and Conducting", which is the "Carolen Conducting Method" that has entered the research field of music and education circles.
She took away the thick textbook and picked up the following textbooks one by one. They were still in the handwriting stage, but after flipping through them, it seemed that they had been completed.
"Six Unaccompanied Sonatas and Suites for Violin" "Six Unaccompanied Suites for Cello" "Six Sonatas for Flute and Piano"
Sheeran's white and thin arms were trembling slightly.
At the bottom is the score of the Second Symphony, which he held in his hand while leaning on his seat yesterday.
She felt a little difficult to breathe, so she held the "Six Unaccompanied Violin Sonatas and Suites" in her hands.
During the flipping process, the page stopped at a page with letter paper.
The sonatas and suites seem to be arranged alternately, and the stop here is No. 4, Suite No. 2.
The fifth movement of Suite No. 2 in D minor, "Chaconne" dance.
I have no intention of looking at the notes above.
The back of the letter was as dark as ink, and she turned it over with trembling hands.
The handwriting is familiar, but it seems to be mixed with different colors of light gold and purple.
"With immediate effect, I declare in writing that I am unilaterally withdrawing from the Guidance School, resigning as president of the Uflansel branch, and resigning as music director of the Old Symphony Orchestra. All businesses and assets under Turner Art Hall, and individuals have published or
All copyrights to musical scores, recordings or theoretical textbooks under creation are permanently and gratuitously gifted to Miss Sheeran Conor, as evidenced by the handwriting of Carolyn Van Ning."
"boom!!"
The music score in the little girl's hand slipped and fell to the ground.
She felt like the sky was falling.
Yesterday...yesterday he said...
…
"Old works are okay? You have such a small appetite."
"Do you have big ideas in mind?"
"It's big."
"How big is it?"
"It's as big as Turner Hall." He gestured with open arms.
"What a cold joke." He smiled and narrowed his eyes in amazement.
"I'm serious." He winked.
…
"I don't want this kind of birthday gift!!!"
She closed her eyes, her thin shoulders were shaking violently, tears welled up one after another, and each drop hit the music score on the ground.
Gradually she squatted on the ground, sobbing breathlessly, and picked up "Six Unaccompanied Violin Sonatas and Suites" again, holding it tightly in her arms.
"You ask me...why do you want to just...perform the violin concerto a few more times...I'm going to wait for the premiere...I'll tell you after the premiere..."
"Because every time...when you take the curtain call...you will hug me gently..."