Chapter 324 First Movement Poems of Awakening (1): Prelude
I slept well this time.
So heavy, so confused.
Fan Ning slowly woke up from the auditorium, his head tilted to one side, almost parallel to his shoulder.
My neck hurt as if it were sealed with cement, and it took me a long time to raise my head with difficulty.
Vision is dim and blurry.
I could barely see the stage facing me in front of me through a few weak green light sources in the distance.
There is also a row of potted flowers at the front of the stage, a few chairs and music stands further inside, and a grand piano on the side.
The black outline of the object is shrouded in a dull green color.
“2 hours drive. Downtown to the junction of urban and rural areas. Bach’s chamber music concert.”
The first round of things jumped out of Fan Ning's thoughts, and then he noticed something was wrong and shook his head.
"Symphony No. 1, Symphony No. 2...the office of the director of the Turner Arts Hall...the faces and figures of the companions...the ruins of the 'Grand Court School' that are about to collapse..."
Another very different set of things comes to mind.
The concert hall was dark and spacious, and my body was a little weak, which did not affect my movements much.
But this place?…
What was my experience at the previous moment, was it that I fell into the reentry passage of the invisible well, or was it... that I lost consciousness while listening to a Bach chamber music concert?
Fan Ning felt like his mind was filled with confusion, and he couldn't tell the difference for a while.
There was something wrapped around the wrist of his left hand, and there was a playlist on his lower abdomen, but when he reached out to touch his chest, there was no key hanging there.
He picked up the playlist and stood up slowly in surprise. He subconsciously made the same move as he did a year or two ago, rummaging around in his pockets.
The phone was quickly found.
There is no special text message, the battery is 1%, the time is 23:30, and it is more than an hour before the concert ends.
A bunch of DingTalk work news shows that the boss still doesn’t forget to gank employees crazily on 996’s single day off.
Fan Ning frowned, swiped down the control panel of his phone, and turned on the flash.
The stage was illuminated as a small area of incandescent light.
The grand piano was moved to the side after the performance, and the key cover and top cover were closed.
He held the light and scanned left and right, but found no distorted human silhouette.
"I can't go back to the past moment in the teaching concert hall of the University of San Lenia... Could it be that there was some unknown error in the return passage at the end, neither the positioning of the paint nor the positioning of the fetal membranes, but it sent me to another place?
In a certain concert hall? I just don’t know if it’s still in the Ufranser area, and I don’t know if the people in the Special Patrol Hall are on the same trajectory as me..."
"Of course, we don't rule out that we are now in a symphony hall somewhere in the southern continent..."
"But why are those strange text messages missing..."
Fan Ning looked around cautiously, but his vision was still dim and blurry, as if his spiritual sense had no effect.
He tried to simulate the "sense of demarcation", "sense of connection" and "sense of pulling" in his mind, but there was no movement. He waved to a flower pot again, but there was still no movement. Finally, his expression changed.
Variety.
I can no longer summon the invisible power of "candle" and "key"!
The light on the mobile phone screen was dim, and Fan Ning glanced at the upper left side of it.
At this time, his whole body froze on the spot.
The signal is full and the operator's name is clearly visible!
"Ding ding dong dong..."
The shutdown bell sounds when the battery is exhausted.
Fanning was struck by a huge sense of ridiculousness.
After a long time, he moved his body step by step from the stage, and walked along the wall to the passage with the help of a weak green light source.
Then, I gradually saw the signboard above my head clearly.
"Safe Exit/Exit"
Without stopping, his hand touched something like a gate in the darkness, and then pushed it open.
"Ah, why is there still someone who hasn't left yet!?"
"Young man, you scared me to death!"
The lights in the corridor of the concert hall were soft and bright, and the tiles on the floor were spotless. Two ladies in red cleaning clothes stood mopping the floor, staring at themselves with expressions that turned from shock to laughter.
Hearing the fluent Chinese words and seeing the modern furnishings and clothes, Fan Ning turned over and over again in his mind to confirm some things.
He was sure that the occult knowledge, those symphonies he wrote, those completely different ancient languages, and the people and things he met were all clearly identifiable in his mind, coming and going freely.
In doubt and uncertainty, he was as vigilant as possible, and then responded to the two cleaning staff with a confused expression:
"I... fell asleep. I don't know why no one called me."
Then he walked all the way out and never looked back.
"What's going on..." The aunt shook her head in confusion, "This young man can really sleep. He's the most sound sleeper I've ever seen during a concert."
Another kindly reminded: "You haven't picked up your stuff yet? Go and see if the person at the front desk is there. It might still be too late."
Fan Ning, who had already walked ten meters away, raised his left hand when he heard this.
There is a red rubber ring wrapped around the wrist.
"Deposit number plate: 607"
In the ticket checking hall, the crystal chandelier overhead has been turned off, and only a few fluorescent lights at the entrance are on.
The limited light cannot fill the huge space. There are three female staff in black uniforms. One is checking the power switch with a flashlight, one is answering the phone, and the other is holding a key chain and preparing to lock the door.
"Sorry, wait..." Fan Ning shouted, "I fell asleep and the things haven't been taken away."
After a normal exchange, three minutes later, he put on his backpack and connected his phone to the power bank.
"Ding--"
After the phone restarted, a new DingTalk message popped up.
Working in a large group, the manager is @self:
"It has been more than an hour since Mr.
Fan Ning held the phone in his hand and scrolled through it.
The boss's long message starts with employee gratitude education, focuses on the work schedule for the new week, and ends with an incisive sharing of values.
To sum up, "the more you talk about remuneration, the narrower your mind will be; the more you talk about dedication, the higher your realm will be."
Below is a sound of receipts and likes, mixed with the earlier "please department managers urge everyone to receive and implement". It is hard to believe that this scene happened on a Sunday night outside of the 996 work rhythm.
Various close-ups and distant views, reality and the Internet are intertwined...
Fan Ning felt more real and more confused.
He thought carefully and quickly touched the screen with two thumbs to type:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kaplan's incident made me a little sad, so I didn't pay attention to it for the moment."
The boss’s reaction was very reasonable. He didn’t know the question “Who is Capron?” so he selectively ignored it. Of course, his reply was still very fast:
"If everyone talks about personal matters, leisure and relaxation when facing company affairs, and is procrastinating... what will our career look like?"
The manager continued to follow up behind the group:
"Nothing will happen next time. I will arrive at the unit half an hour early tomorrow morning and be ready to report on PPT."
All the details were undoubtedly true, and Fan Ning found it increasingly difficult to figure out the real situation.
His eyes flashed, his expression remained unchanged, and he continued to type out replies in the crowd with his fingers, as elegant as a pianist:
"I am your father."
There is still one chapter left to finish, so it will be updated at 11 o'clock during the day.