A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 161 The Pizza Girl's Arcane Festival Dream (7)

The blue light of Grindelwald's Eye shone brightly in the twilight.

This is a magnificent spectacle that occurs only once a year. Arcane magic forms a dam in the sky, blocking the rain clouds brought by the monsoon. The crater mountain is filled with clear, bright beams of light, as if one could reach up and touch the faint stars and the pale sky. The sun is on the other side of the mountain, and the surging sunlight suddenly parts the wisps of thin clouds. The celestial body, revered as the supreme god, marches into the distance in a vast and glorious manner.

Quinn leaned against the museum's terrace, watching the bustling crowd below, even after a whole day. He listened to the sounds of the city and gazed up at the setting sun.

Using "sunset" might not be entirely accurate, as it evokes images of disappearance, falling, and sinking. But the sun in this world never sets. Its altitude may change with the passing of time, but it forever hangs high in the sky, beyond the reach of mortals. In Taimouran, "sunset" describes the sun at dusk, where the diffused light is closer to the sun's true color.

That was a golden color that radiated a brilliant divine light.

Lynn said that the sun in her hometown was smaller, but Quinn had somehow gotten used to this sun that occupied most of the sky. Now that he thought about it, it was strange. The first time he saw the sun of another world, he, Chaldale, and Katrin had just left the goblin cave and saw this incredibly large celestial body in the layers of shadows in the forest.

Quinn wasn't afraid. Perhaps after being bombarded by strange things like the "Demon King" and "Goblin," the colossal sun didn't seem so strange anymore. The blinding light, its shape, its heat—it all gave him a familiar yet somewhat ambiguous feeling.

But after that, we'll never see each other again, no matter what.

He turned his gaze to the Eye of Grindelwald at the end of Cloud Avenue. The once bustling airport had ceased operations, replaced by beams of arcane spotlights shooting into the sky, waiting for the sun to set, for night to fall, and for the party to begin.

"Ah~~~" came the sound of a girl shrugs and sighs of relief from behind. "So tired."

Celia hugged the stack of sheet music tightly and walked to Quinn's side.

She was so careful, afraid of crushing the sheet music, that her slender figure stood ramrod straight, as if holding a priceless treasure.

"But being able to learn the piano is truly a very lucky thing," she murmured with emotion.

"Good."

"Okay," Celia sighed, "I feel like I might never be able to learn these pieces in my lifetime."

What I mean is, I envy you.

"Envious of me?" Celia looked at Quinn, who had a nonchalant and lazy expression, and asked in confusion, "Mr. Quinn, what do you envy about me?"

"My piano teacher was never satisfied with me. Even after my skills surpassed hers, her evaluation of me was just 'playing music player'."

Quinn rested his head on his hand, looking at the bewildered girl in the sunset, and said as if to himself, "Only those who can find joy in the piano can play music with joy. In the end, I'll just be a player, I'll play whatever the score says. But you're different, you have a higher ceiling than me. I look forward to that day."

Celia seemed to understand, but not quite.

However, Quinn was rarely seen smiling while playing the piano. The way he touched the keys was like a worker picking up a hoe, as if he were completing a job rather than playing music, with a cold precision that was no different from the black piano surface.

"Keep going, Xiaoqian." He looked at Celia and the tower in the distance behind her. "No matter what, keep going in every sense of the word."

“Hmm—” Celia nodded heavily, then carefully handed the stack of sheet music back to Quinn: “Mr. Quinn, I cannot accept these.”

Why? Don't you like it?

"How could that be! You are an extremely, extremely talented person. This music is more perfect than any song I've ever heard in my life—no, not even including the ones you taught me before." She stammered a little, but still said very earnestly, "But these scores must sell for a lot of money, right? Even this afternoon when I was playing them, people came to inquire about the price."

"You mean the conductor of that Eswell City Orchestra?" Quinn chuckled. "He wanted nine hundred gold pounds for Chopin's Nocturnes, and I chased him away with my wand."

"He said he could raise the price. He'll go back and figure out how to raise the money," Celia said nervously. "That's just one song! There are so many here, they could sell for a lot of money!"

She looked at Quinn, her eyes sparkling as if they were stars.

“Mr. Quinn, you will definitely become a pianist who goes down in history—oh my god!!”

Celia covered her forehead and cried out softly, nearly dropping the sheet music in her hand, which she quickly caught. Quinn withdrew his hand from her forehead and said irritably, "Just take it if I give it to you, why are you making such a fuss? Remember what I said, if anyone asks you in the future, just say you made it up yourself."

“That won’t do, no one will believe it,” Celia muttered.

“No, in the art world, only two kinds of works are truly credible and valuable,” Quinn said calmly. “The dead and celebrities.” “…Do you think I’ll become famous, teacher?”

“Heh.” Quinn didn’t answer yes or no. “It doesn’t matter who wrote it. As long as you have respect for these scores, those authors who treat music as their life will be very happy.”

He spotted two men in the crowd queuing downstairs, then got up and went back.

"Come on, your dad and brother are here to pick you up. The tavern will be crowded tonight, right? Help your dad out, and don't wander off; stay inside the tavern."

Celia paused, her eyes flickered, and she tightened her grip on the sheet music before slowly following behind Quinn.

"There aren't really any special techniques to playing the piano; you just need to practice every day. There's a proverb in my hometown that says, 'Constant dripping wears away a stone.' If you keep practicing, one day you'll suddenly find yourself able to play whatever you want."

"I've divided the pieces into different styles and labeled them next to the titles. I know you prefer pop music, but when practicing, you can't just focus on your favorites. The more complex the classical pieces, the better they are for practice, like Paganini's Capriccioso."

"First pursue accuracy; only pursue speed when you can play accurately without looking at the keys."

"Of course, arcane arts will still be my priority every day; the piano will only be used for relaxation and entertainment."

"Even though Seven makes dirty jokes all the time, he's actually the only normal person in the class. The other two can be friends, but don't get too close."

"Learn arcane magic—I mean, learn arcane magic, or anything else—once you leave the academy, there will be no more undead totems. Everything you do must prioritize survival, and you must remember—"

On the stairs, Quinn turned to look at Celia, who had remained silent.

"If one day you can convince everyone in the world that the piano music you play is written by you, then you must remain skeptical of everyone and not completely trust anyone."

"Even Mr. Quinn?" She didn't understand why Quinn was suddenly saying these things.

“Yes.” Quinn nodded with a smile. “Teaching you this lesson is what I, as your teacher, should do.”

“Mr. Quinn, you’re making your final decisions like you’re giving your last words. So long-winded.”

Who knows?

Quinn continued walking, casually remarking, "Life is a strange thing; no one knows what tomorrow will bring. Maybe one day we'll open our eyes and find ourselves transported to another world. If this is our last meeting, shouldn't we leave behind some memories worth savoring?"

"."

Reaching the first floor, Quinn realized that Celia hadn't followed. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a series of hurried footsteps.

A warm, delicate body embraced him from behind. Even though she hadn't worn any perfume, Quinn felt a pleasant scent fill his nostrils.

Even through a stack of sheet music, Quinn could still feel the slightly rapid heartbeat.

"If this is the last time we see each other." Many people looked over. The incredibly beautiful girl was holding a man dressed in Grindelwald's black robe, who seemed somewhat taken aback.

"Oh, the academy doesn't seem to have a tradition of expressing friendship with hugs, does it?" Quinn patted her hand that was wrapped around his chest. "If the administration office finds out, I won't be able to explain myself, you know?"

"It's not friendship."

"Ok?"

"It's not ice cream, and it's not wanting to hug you either," she said softly but firmly.

Then, she let go of his hand, and a bright smile returned to the girl's face. She gracefully walked around to Quinn's side and waved goodbye.

See you tomorrow!

Her bright, sparkling eyes blinked, and she spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Don't play dumb, Xiaoqian, wait for the teacher's reply."

(End of this chapter)