The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 437 - 437 245 The Unparalleled Qin and Jian 5K8

437: Chapter 245: The Unparalleled Qin and Jian (5K8) 437: Chapter 245: The Unparalleled Qin and Jian (5K8) “Last year, when the uprising occurred in Warsaw, I was preparing for a small concert in Vienna.

Before long, I received a letter from my father back home, telling me to stay in Vienna and not return to Poland.

However, whenever I thought about my homeland shrouded in smoke, and the people of Warsaw suffering from the bombardment, I couldn’t suppress my emotions.”

My heart couldn’t find peace, and for two whole months, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

I couldn’t compose any music.

When my fingertips touched the piano keys, I could no longer feel the joy I used to.

Mr.

Hastings, you are also a pianist, you should understand the feelings I had at that time?”

Arthur sat beside the couch, quietly listening to Chopin recount his story.

When asked, he simply nodded and said, “Yes, I understand how you feel.

Since I learned to play the piano, practicing a little before work each day has calmed my mind and put me in a good mood before work.

If I couldn’t play the piano anymore, I really don’t know how I would go on.

Frederick, I cherish the black and white notes that dance at my fingertips, and I love appearing at the weekly concerts.

When the lights go out and all falls into nothingness, that’s when I can feel the meaning of being alive.”

The Red Devil, leaning against the wall and yawning, chimed in: “Right, right, right, the meaning of your life is to earn that ten-odd pounds at the concert every Sunday.

Studied the piano for a damn year, and still, you can only play one piece.

The most fucked up thing is, you little bastard manage to bluff your way through every time with your slick mouth, and even call it a great pianist’s persistence and focus.”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil, but quickly switched to a gentle smile, pushing the cup of warm coffee towards Chopin: “Frederick, have something warm, I hope this makes you feel a bit better.”

Chopin nodded appreciatively, he picked up the cup and drank it down: “Thank you, Mr.

Hastings, I indeed feel much better now.”

The Great Dumas, enraptured by the story, urged him: “Frederick, go on, your story is even more legendary than I imagined.”

Chopin smiled shyly, and continued: “When I realized that music, which I loved so dearly, could no longer bring me joy, and the blazing piano keys could no longer warm my heart, I finally understood my fate.

I shouldn’t be sitting in a concert hall in Vienna when Poland needed me the most.

I should return to Warsaw, even if it was covered in dark clouds, I should return to my homeland, even if the Russians wanted to bury me there.”

In the evening, I was restless, feeling suffocated, just wanting to go out for a walk to clear my mind.

I wandered the streets of Vienna aimlessly, not knowing how far I had walked.

But when I stopped, I looked up and saw Beethoven’s former residence.

It was a two-story apartment, not very tall, with walls coated in white enamel paint.

The nearby streets were quiet, with hardly any passersby, everything was silent.

The evening in Vienna was extremely quiet, and in the silence, I closed my eyes.

I could almost hear Beethoven playing the piano next to my ear, the bold melodies, the ups and downs of the rhythms, it was Beethoven’s unyielding soul, it was the “Symphony of Destiny,” it was the delight from music that I had lost for so long and now had regained.

From that moment, I also understood my fate.

That night, I did not say goodbye to my friends I had made in Vienna, nor did I bid farewell to Messrs.

Czerny, Kruetzer, Hummel, and Gyrowetz who had helped me a lot.

Because I knew that once I said farewell, they certainly wouldn’t just watch me return to the gunfire and bombardment in Warsaw.

I packed up my belongings, shouldered my pack, and headed for the border between Austria and Poland.”

But things turned out beyond my expectation.

Arthur, I’m not embarrassed to say it, but I really am a useless person.

Apart from playing the piano, I know almost nothing about life.

When I reached the border between the two countries, I found out that Austria had sealed the border and was prohibiting all goods and people from crossing the border into Poland.”

To circumvent the Austrian blockade, I searched along the border for a long time until I found an unnoticed gap and stepped onto Polish soil through that gap.

However, once I entered Poland, I found that returning to Warsaw was even more difficult than I had imagined.

No carriages in any of the villages were willing to head towards Warsaw; everyone knew how dangerous it was there.

Therefore, I had no choice but to walk.”

But I had not walked long before I got lost; I couldn’t tell where I was, and the sky also started to pour down continuous rain.

The already difficult path became even muddier.

Every so often, I had to ask the villagers along the way for directions to Warsaw, and I needed to purchase some food in the villages.

Before long, I had almost run out of money.”

Fortunately, by this time, I was not far from Warsaw.

Yet before I could rejoice, I saw a group of fleeing soldiers coming from ahead.

They were shouting that Warsaw had been occupied, the Tsar’s rule had once again enveloped the land of Poland.

This was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue for me.

I wanted to continue towards Warsaw, but those people stopped me, and despite my protests, they forcibly took me with them as they retreated.”

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