In the eyes of 10,000 people, there are 10,000 Hamlets.
The reason this phrase is repeatedly quoted is not because it is a cliché, but because it is so true.
For instance, at this very moment.
The rendition of Debussy’s Clair de Lune performed by Gao Hongyi took the entire audience into vastly different, independent, yet secretly connected spiritual worlds.
They swam within those realms.
Their consciousness was enveloped by the soft melody and pulled by a deeper, more secretive force.
The edge of the black lid on the Steinway D-274 suddenly became blurred.
Its luster swayed gently like mercury.
Immediately following that, an invisible power slowly extended from deep within the piano strings.
One line.
Two lines.
Countless faint red strings spread, intertwined, and vibrated in the air.
They were not objects that could be touched or seen in reality.
Yet, every listener present could “see” those fine lines of light, thin as blood vessels.
They were like the threads of fate.
They were like the secret threads pulling at the soul.
They vibrated gently in the air while the piano music continued to flow.
Every person’s heartbeat produced a subtle yet clear resonance within those vibrations.
The red lines seemed to connect every listener, stitching their originally isolated spiritual worlds together under the same quiet night sky.
Under Gao Hongyi’s performance, the originally solemn and elegant music hall of the art gallery was transformed into a sacred sanctuary.
The ceiling lights seemed to be pulled higher and further away.
The light became soft.
The air felt solemn and thin.
In their hallucinations, the velvet chairs transformed into church pews.
In their spiritual vision, the red-haired girl sitting in the center of the stage playing the piano was no longer just a student.
She was like a holy maiden sent by the gods to save the world — cold and clean, sacred and dangerous.
That danger was not one of violence.
It was a kind of tenderness sufficient to manipulate the soul.
This piece conveyed a single emotion.
‘I want to go home.’
Originally, that was only the performer’s personal thought.
It was an unutterable yet uncontrollable longing held within the keys.
But at this moment, that thought swept through the deepest, softest parts of everyone’s hearts like a rising tide.
Those who were crying continued to cry.
Those who were dancing continued to dance.
Those calling out the names of their loved ones remained immersed in their hallucinations.
Yet, they were all thinking the same thing.
‘Why hasn’t school let out yet?’
The music had struck a chord in their hearts.
It was a long-lost loosening of their spirits.
They wanted so badly to return to the side of someone who could embrace them.
They wanted so badly to sit in a familiar café for a while, watching the pedestrians walk slowly past the window.
They wanted so badly to dial a number they hadn’t contacted in a long time, just to say those words that were years overdue: “I love you.”
Let school end quickly.
At this moment, the school no longer seemed like a school.
It was a cage.
This rendition of Debussy’s Clair de Lune was like a gentle yet irresistible march of insurrection.
Even the most rational people…
Even the principal…..could not escape it.
The old man, a graduate of Oxford University, slowly closed his eyes.
He saw Cambridge.
He saw the morning mist.
His memory traveled through time.
He returned to his youth.
He returned to that smiling girl by the banks of the River Thames.
He returned to the years before his back had been bent by the weight of responsibility.
Suddenly, the elegant and restrained principal could not help but burst into tears.
St. George’s International School was not a relaxed school of “happy education.”
On the contrary, those who could study here were the elite among the elite.
The rules and regulations, the curriculum, the schedule, and the bells — everything was precise down to the second.
This place emphasized order, lineage, inheritance, and responsibility.
It emphasized taking up the scepter of power on a predetermined stage in the future without a single mistake.
But at this very moment, those proud structures were quietly loosening.
Cracks spread in unseen places.
Freedom.
Debussy’s Clair de Lune transmitted this emotion through the air.
The thought was amplified without limit.
Originally, the principal had indeed planned to give a speech in the music hall about elite education, social responsibility, and inheritance.
It would have been a passionate yet methodical speech about future order and glory.
It would have won applause and been recorded.
But suddenly, he found those prepared words to be pale and powerless in the face of such a graceful and moving piano solo.
No matter how magnificent human language was, it could not compare to Gao Hongyi’s performance.
Everyone waited.
They waited for Gao Hongyi to finish her performance.
Finally, the last note fell gently.
It was like a swan feather that had been circling in mid-air for a long time, slowly drifting to the ground.
The lingering sound did not dissipate.
The listeners, who had been immersed in their respective spiritual worlds, woke up from their trance once more.
The person who had been spinning gently, the person who had been sobbing quietly, and the person who had been calling the names of their relatives — they all looked at Gao Hongyi as if waking from a dream.
She had created a dream that belonged to everyone.
Immediately afterward, thunderous applause erupted throughout the hall.
Standing in the wings, the piano tutor, De-Verna, had red-rimmed eyes.
His French carried the rasp and pride settled by years.
“Debussy never needed power; he needed restraint, an understanding of time, and mastery over the levels of the pedals and mutes.”
“She kept the skeleton within the extreme lightness and maintained the structure within the flow. Such moderation is very rare at her age.”
“Your music was almost like a magic spell, inspiring awe while remaining elegant.”
As he reached the end, his voice carried an unmistakable pride.
“I have had many honors in my life. But for me to be your teacher, Miss Gao Hongyi, is my greatest honor.”
After the piano professor, De-Verna, finished expressing his thoughts, the principal stood up immediately.
The elderly British gentleman spoke, emphasizing every word.
“Ladies and gentlemen, true self-discipline originates from inner resilience, not from a clock.”
“Such beautiful art has awakened our souls, as well as our pursuit of beauty. And beauty should not be confined within a school schedule.”
“The best teachers in life are your own ambition and your discovery of beauty. The rest of today is yours to spend as you wish.”
He paused slightly, then looked at Gao Hongyi.
“Now, I announce an early dismissal.”
No one had expected that Gao Hongyi’s piano piece would lead to such a result.
After a brief silence, there were irrepressible gasps and cheers.
School was finally out.
Even Gao Hongyi, who rarely smiled while at school, could not help but curve her lips at this moment.
For her, being dismissed from school was the happiest thing in the world right now.
In the past, she had always maintained a nearly cold, neutral attitude toward attending school.
But now, getting out of school early meant she could see Gu Yebai sooner.
“That’s great.”
Gao Hongyi bowed politely to the audience.
Then she quickly ran off the stage.
She took out her phone.
The screen lit up.
She opened the QQ chat interface.
‘Brother Bai…’
‘Did you reply to my message while I was playing?’
Playing the piano had taken about 5 minutes and 30 seconds.
In those 5 minutes and 30 seconds, she had made everyone dream.
However, Baiye Duxing had not replied.
Those cold, sharp eyes grew deeper under the light and shadow of the screen.
There was a hint of regret, but also a quiet yet stubborn thought.
‘It’s fine,’ she whispered to herself.
‘I’m coming back to find you right now.’
Her red hair brushed down.
Her fingertips tapped the screen gently.
She smiled tenderly, yet with a danger that no one noticed.
‘As for the consequences of you not replying to my messages on time, Brother Bai… I will teach you well.’
‘Honestly.’
‘You don’t have any awareness of being a boyfriend at all. That won’t do.’
The distance from the school to her home was about 1 kilometer.
Normally, Gao Hongyi would have the family driver, Uncle Lin, pick her up and drop her off.
But school had let out early today.
After calculating the time, calling Uncle Lin to pick her up would actually be a delay.
For her, the sooner she saw Brother Bai, the better.
‘Brother Bai, all alone at home… he must really need me.’
This thought made her almost forget her so-called ladylike poise.
She lifted her skirt and dashed toward the school exit at a full sprint.
Her red hair trailed behind her.
“Ah, she’s so beautiful…”
The teachers and students of the entire school watched her retreating figure.