Old Assad and Ido did not sit at the same table with them as Qin Jian imagined.
The two of them sat at a small dining table not far from the entrance of the canteen. There were two middle-aged workers drinking at the dining table next to them.
Their speech was very loud.
Qin Jian observed that Ido did not change at all because of the noisy sound. He calmly ate the food in front of him.
"Are you hungry?" Liao Linjun returned to the dining table with a soup basin. "Try Bergen's authentic seafood soup."
Qin Jian retracted his gaze, picked up the bowl and spoon and started moving it, "Fortunately, I'm not very hungry. I feel like the wheat cakes at noon haven't been digested yet."
He looked around again and then asked: "Where is Uncle Potter?"
"He is still debugging a piano, and there will be guests coming to play the violin tomorrow." Liao Linjun said, serving himself a bowl of soup, "How is it? How was the harvest this afternoon?"
Speaking of this, Qin Jian prepared a lot of questions.
"Sister Lin Jun, I want to make sure first that when playing the harpsichord, our arms cannot be too high as we do when playing the modern piano, otherwise it will cause the sound to be interrupted, right?"
Liao Linjun nodded: "Yes, this is the law. The structures of modern pianos and fortepianos are quite different, so players must master a set of performance techniques for playing fortepianos."
After receiving a positive answer, Qin Jian asked the second question with confidence: "So is the timbre of the fortepiano fixed?"
Liao Linjun blew the soup in the spoon and said, "Be specific."
Qin Jian clicked his lips: "That is to say, the timbre of the fortepiano will not change due to the change of the player?"
Liao Linjun nodded: "Yes, purely in terms of timbre, the timbre produced by each fortepiano is fixed and will not change due to different people playing it."
After these two questions, Qin Jian did not expand the scope of the question, and the next topic centered around the touch and timbre of the fortepiano.
Each of Liao Linjun's answers contains academic standards and some technical tips that need to be paid attention to in actual performance.
After a meal, Qin Jian couldn't bear it anymore and wanted to go back to the piano room and try it again.
"Let's forget it for today."
After the meal, Liao Linjun dissuaded: "Get used to the environment and the pace of life here in the past few days. You don't need to schedule your time so full."
Liao Linjun's words were her starting point. On the other hand, she also consciously wanted to adjust Qin Jian's previous practice mode in school life. She saw that Qin Jian's previous practice was too intense, and she also discussed it with Shen Qingci.
Although I have passed this problem, Shen Qingci doesn't think there is any problem.
Although she could understand Shen Qingci's intention, Qin Jian had already submitted the repertoire for the main competition, and all the works were basically completed, and the rest could not be obtained by just practicing.
She also hopes that Qin Jian can prepare for the final moment in a relaxed state in the next stage.
"good."
Qin Jian agreed without thinking much. After submitting the music for the main competition, he was indeed not so nervous anymore.
"You can go around the town by yourself later." Liao Linjun gave advice and warned, "But you have to come back to sleep at night, or you can watch TV and surf the Internet. In short, try not to stay up late."
Qin Jian hummed repeatedly, indicating that he had received it, "By the way, Sister Lin Jun, I want a table. There is no table in my room. Sometimes I have to write something."
"That's easy to say."
Liao Linjun helped Qin Jian find a set of small wooden tables and chairs in the factory, and the two of them moved the tables and chairs to Qin Jian's room.
"I won't disturb you anymore. I'll see you at 8 o'clock tomorrow morning. Good night."
"Good night, Sister Lin Jun."
After Liao Linjun left, Qin Jian opened the suitcase and packed the accompanying luggage. He placed computers, documents and other items that he used frequently on a daily basis on the table by the window.
After some busy work, Qin Jian felt comfortable for a while looking at the tidy room.
"It's the Chotai."
There may be flaws in the beauty, and he accepts it.
When he finally packed up the suitcase, he saw the stuffed doll that had been buried under the luggage.
This is the one that Ido lost at the Chopin Institute. Since he never met Ido and old Assad again, he kept it in the box, hoping to return it to him if he had the opportunity in the future.
So I took it back to Yanjing from Warsaw, and then all the way to Bergen.
Without much thought, he took the puppet and left the room.
Since he has mentioned that he met the owner, he should return the property to the original owner as soon as possible.
The distance from east to west of the courtyard was less than a minute. Qin Jian followed Debussy's moonlight and walked all the way from east to west, stopping in front of a single-story hut.
He knew that this must be the residence of the two of them, and he was sure that the moonlight in his ears at this time must be one of the two playing.
Looking through the door and looking at the bright window, he did not knock on the door immediately.
Listening quietly to the melody in his ears, Qin Jian's thoughts also calmed down.
In the past year, he has rarely heard such pure music. It was like seeing a simple, elegant and noble white flower in a colorful flower room.
Gradually, he found a trace of tranquility.
When the piano sound ended, Qin Jian sighed softly. No matter who was playing this piece just now, he felt that this kind of music deserved to be applauded in the most glorious concert hall.
After adjusting, he was about to raise his hand to knock on the door.
Then the light in the window went out.
Qin Jian took back his hand hesitantly and looked at his watch. It was only half past eight.
Still without much thought, he took the puppet and turned around and left.
"Tomorrow."
It's always bad to disturb others' rest.
Back in the room, Qin Jian sent Duan Ran a message, but the other party did not reply to her.
Out of curiosity, he recalled the music just now and some conversations at yesterday's dinner table. He turned on the computer and climbed over the wall to return to the domestic website.
He typed the words "Idlib" in the search bar of the web page, just as he continued to type the words "university".
The search engine automatically appeared - 'The latest fighting situation in Idlib', 'Idlib rebels', 'Why is the geographical location of Idlib important'
When he saw the words "war situation, war rebels" and other words, Qin Jian's heart sank and his brows couldn't help but wrinkle.
Although the Syrian war is not a new term, Qin Jian has always felt that such things are two different worlds to him.
Suddenly, old Asaad's silent eyes seemed to appear in front of his eyes, and for the first time, he felt that the war was not far away from him.
He quickly opened a search.
After some browsing.
Battle reports one after another, and photos of the front line that could not be looked at directly seemed to still be in his mind, gradually overlapping with the bright and pure moonlight song.
a long time.
His eyes fell on the last photo.
The photo shows a naked boy covered in mud squatting on the broken tiles after the war.
He looked up at the sky, which was gray, and his eyes were quiet, showing a deathly silence.
...
"war."
For the first time, Qin Jian truly reflected on the war.
On the wooden table, the smiling puppet is still smiling.