Chapter Thirty-Eight: Could You Play It Once More?

Jinzhou District, inside a café.

"Aunt Cai, good evening. I’m here to report for work." At exactly 6:50 p.m., Su Tong arrived at the café to check in with the owner.

The proprietress was sitting by a window, sipping coffee as she gazed at the neon-lit street outside.

"Ah, Tong, you’re here! Come, have a seat first, let’s talk over a cup of coffee." The proprietress was a slightly plump, elegant middle-aged woman with well-groomed eyebrows and a lingering charm. She pointed to the seat across from her for Su Tong and waved at a waiter.

"No need, really, I just finished dinner. You’re too kind, Aunt Cai." Su Tong quickly declined. He couldn’t drink coffee; if he did, he’d be up all night.

Aunt Cai insisted, however, and had the waiter bring over a cup of coffee and a packet of white sugar.

"Aunt Cai, why don’t you show me where I’ll be working?" Seeing it was almost time, Su Tong suggested.

Aunt Cai called a waiter to help Su Tong with his coffee. Su Tong hurriedly declined, saying he could manage, and followed Aunt Cai with the coffee in hand.

This café was quite spacious. Su Tong had been to cafés before a few years back, but this was the largest he’d ever seen. It was U-shaped, wide in the center, with the ends more secluded and quiet.

The piano stood at the center, very conspicuous.

Su Tong was a bit puzzled. In the cafés he’d been to, pianos were usually tucked in a corner. Had he just encountered exceptions before? Maybe the piano was supposed to be at the center of attention.

"Hey, Madam, is this the new pianist?" As Su Tong stepped onto the small stage where the piano stood, a female voice sounded behind him. But he didn’t hesitate and continued to the piano, set his coffee on the small table, and sat down on the bench.

"Yes, I just hired him. In a bit, you must listen carefully. Our new pianist has composed a piece himself—it’s quite remarkable. Ask him the name of the piece afterward, and you’ll be moved, I promise," the owner said to her guest with a beaming smile.

"You make it sound so intriguing, now I can’t wait," the guest replied with a laugh.

Aunt Cai told Su Tong to wait until eight o’clock to play his own composition, as there weren’t too many guests yet.

Su Tong nodded. He knew many pieces; at five or six minutes each with breaks in between, a dozen pieces would fill an hour and a half nicely.

Café music tended to be slow-paced. A single piece, played in this style, would stretch longer than usual.

As the owner left, Su Tong caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and his mood turned sour.

Gao Litong and Li Wen had arrived.

The three of them had spent the afternoon together. Originally, the girls wanted to enter the café with Su Tong, but he’d stopped them.

"Litong, I can’t believe Su Tong can play the piano! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I thought we were best friends!" Li Wen grumbled after ordering two coffees for them.

Gao Litong pursed her lips. She had only found out today—how could she have told her sooner? And even if she had known, she wouldn't have told her. If Li Wen were a true friend, would she hand Su Tong over? No way. Su Tong was hers; she didn’t want to see him ruined by Li Wen.

Hadn’t that girl already gone through several boyfriends this past year?

Still, Gao Litong said aloud, "I only found out today too, Wenwen. And you need to watch your words from now on."

Li Wen huffed, "I don’t believe he really can play. His family’s so poor—where would he get the money for a piano, or for lessons?" She trailed off as Gao Litong glared at her, her final words coming out in a mumble.

"I’m not your mother, don’t call me that," Gao Litong muttered, though inwardly she too doubted Su Tong’s piano skills. Li Wen’s point wasn’t without merit.

The two whispered to each other. When it was time for Su Tong to start, the gentle, melodious sound of the piano filled the air.

Though this world had many classical piano pieces, Su Tong did not play them. Most café-goers weren’t interested in classical masterpieces.

To put it bluntly, they didn’t know how to appreciate them.

If they couldn’t appreciate it, why waste pearls before swine?

So, Su Tong played current popular songs and a few well-known classics.

The café’s speakers reached the entire service area. Even rock songs, when filtered through Su Tong’s hands, became gentle piano melodies.

"Not bad."

"The new pianist is quite something, really feels different."

A few regulars nodded in quiet approval, very satisfied with Su Tong’s performance.

Gao Litong and Li Wen could hardly believe their ears. Was this really Su Tong playing? Maybe the café was just playing a recorded track?

Unable to contain their curiosity, the two crept up to the piano stage, staring at Su Tong’s hands.

"What beautiful hands," Li Wen exclaimed, watching his fingers dance across the keys. She couldn’t help but reach out, wanting to touch them.

Su Tong looked up, eyes stern. "Go sit down."

Gao Litong quickly pulled Li Wen back to their seats.

A little after eight, Su Tong had already played eight pieces.

At this moment, the owner approached, smiling. "Tong, I’ve invited a few old friends over. Now, it’s your time to shine."

Su Tong understood and nodded.

The next piece—less than three minutes long—was a world-renowned piano composition from his previous life: "Marriage d’Amour."

"Sister Cai, you’ve called us here—don’t let us down now."

"Exactly, Cai, you rarely mention good music. Can’t we just download it online? Did we really have to come in person?"

"Cai, is this new pianist really as amazing as you say? Could you have found such a master?"

...

In a corner of the café, a group of ladies sat together, the owner among them.

"Just listen. You won’t find this song online. That’s why I called you here," the owner said, turning to a woman in her thirties. "Xiaoying, you teach music at your school and are a skilled pianist yourself. Listen closely."

The ladies wanted to say more, but as the music began, they set down their coffees and listened intently.

"Marriage d’Amour" had a brisk tempo. Usually, fast-paced songs are cheerful, but this one was different. Underneath its liveliness, it told a story—a fleeting feeling, as if something precious was slipping away like a shooting star, too fast to grasp.

That sense of something slipping through your fingers, impossible to hold onto, was utterly captivating.

As they listened, the women felt a pang in their hearts, a longing to know the tale behind the piece, to understand its story.

Without knowing the story, they were sure to lose sleep that night.

When the piece ended, several of them climbed eagerly onto the piano stage.

Seeing Su Tong, his striking good looks only made them pause for a moment before they pressed on anxiously, "What’s the name of that piece?"

Su Tong lifted his hands from the keys and answered softly, "Marriage d’Amour."

"Marriage d’Amour..."

The women fell silent.

"Could you play it just once more? We want to listen closely," asked the woman the owner had called Xiaoying after a brief silence.