The Chief Conductor’s Strange Lover

”ltr ”>”Concertmaster Tan, why don't you go and persuade Conductor Shu? Our Xiao Ruoyun can't withstand such violence.” Onlooker C couldn't bear it.

“Ahem, Conductor Shu, if I may interrupt,” Tan Xiaoshi interrupted, “you've been practising for so long, aren't you two tired?”

“There's one more movement,” Shu Jingzhi looked across the table, “do you need to rest?”

“No,” Ying Ruoyun was in high spirits, “I can continue.”

“Ruoyun ah, blink if you're being threatened.
Although practising the violin is important, you still need to take care of your health.”

“I'm really fine, thank you for your concern, Sister Xiaoshi.” Ying Ruoyun smiled, “There's still one final movement to go, and I want to finish it.”

“What is this called? One is willing to fight, the other is willing to suffer, the great sentiment and noble spirit of dedicating oneself to the art of music!” Onlooker D exclaimed.

The final movement is the essence of the whole piece.
Once known as the spirit of musical instruments, the violin is the most resonant and unique melody in a symphony orchestra.
The most difficult part of a piece of music is not the complexity of the technique, but the overall control of the movement and the perfect conveyance of the musical emotion.

Ying Ruoyun's performance of the piece was touching, subtly recreating the gentle theme of the composer's anguished cries of struggle against suffering and his fervent pursuit of life and love, majestic and willful, it was a tear-jerker.

The moment the music ended, the rehearsal hall erupted in a round of applause.

“Well done,” Shu Jingzhi said, “that's all for today.”

Ying Ruoyun put the violin away and put it on the instrument stand, then heard him speak again, “Come to the office.”

After the long hours of practice, his muscles were a little sore and swollen.
Ying Ruoyun sat down in the office, and Shu Jingzhi took a pair of Beyerdynamic Xelento Remote headphones and handed them to him: “Put them on.”

The first note leapt into his ears and Ying Ruoyun immediately exclaimed, “It's a Kreisler soundtrack!!!”

“En,” Shu Jingzhi sat down beside him, “the violin piece 'Joy of Love'.”

“It's fantastic, I've loved Kreisler since my university days, and I used this piece for my first recital.
I was particularly nervous that day, but it turned out surprisingly well, because you said to me…” Suddenly, Ying Ruoyun swallowed the sentence he had not finished, the melodious music drifting through his headphones, his heart in a tangled mess.

“What did I say?” Shu Jingzhi asked.

Ying Ruoyun vividly remembers that they had not established a relationship at that time, and that his comments on the music were like an invisible provocation that filled his mind with anticipation, like a hot air balloon floating through the wilderness.

At that time, he said to him:

the joy of love is more than just this moment and this night,

but in the dance of every note,

in the ebb and flow of every melody,

every tiny emotion that arises from you.

Old memories mingled with the present, but things have changed.

Ying Ruoyun lied: “I'm sorry, I don't remember.”

“I'm not surprised,” Shu Jingzhi said, “you've always had a poor memory, just as your promises have never been anything more than empty words.”

“Please, don't say anymore.”

“What? Recalling an unpleasant past?” Shu Jingzhi leaned closer to him and whispered, “Remember when you confessed your love to me so fervently, when you took the initiative to reveal your heart, and when, even though I rejected you repeatedly, you remained sincere and fearless with your undying admiration?”

“Please…
stop it.” Ying Ruoyun clenched his right hand, his nails sinking deep into his palm, but still maintained his composure.

“When you approached me back then, you used such a righteous attitude.” Shu Jingzhi said, “It seemed like you were completely motivated by your obsession with music, your pursuit of art, and were a lofty idealist.
But that was just your disguise, and I only found out later that you were simply a self-serving liar with a lot of lies.”

It was as if a cold wind had been poured into his bones; he knew that Shu Jingji hated him, but he didn't know that it had reached such an extent.
His body trembled slightly, a sharp headache flooded his skull, and he could not defend himself; all he could say was, “I'm sorry…”

“I'm curious,” Shu Jingzhi looked him in the eye, “can someone like you really feel guilty?”

It was as if a sharp blade had sliced through his heart, Ying Ruoyun had never felt so unfamiliar with him, and it was quite unsettling.
He had never imagined that the lover he had once been so tender and devoted to would one day question him so coldly.

He couldn't breathe, and all he wanted to do was run away.

His chin was violently cupped, and a hot kiss landed forcefully.
Ying Ruoyun's mind went blank as Shu Jingzhi pinned him down on the sofa.

A soft, wet tongue pried open his teeth and brushed his palate and sensitive inner walls.
Without any words, it easily awakened a physical intimacy that had long been familiar to both parties.

No matter how long it had been, no matter how long they had been apart, he could always easily arouse the deepest desires and cravings within him, causing his sanity and composure, which he prided himself on, to crumble and sink in an instant, giving way to endless pleasure and delight.

'Knock, knock, knock.' Suddenly, there was a knock at the door: “Conductor Shu? Are you there?”

Ying Ruoyun immediately pushed him away, their lips and tongue linked with moisture, and after a moment of separation, Shu Jingzhi covered his lips again, even deliberately sucking on them, and then biting his tongue lightly at the end.

Ying Ruoyun's eyes misted up and his heart knotted in anger: what time is it, he's still playing such tricks!

At that moment, there was the sound of the door handle turning.

In desperation, Ying Ruoyun kicked him over, quickly put his clothes back together, grabbed a score and pretended to be reading it.