Chapter 225 Congratulations
Chapter 225 Congratulations
Chapter 225 Congratulations
It was afternoon in a cramped room.
"If he wants to be first, then let him be." As Gavin spoke, the expressions of the others changed dramatically. The other student council members were stunned. They whispered to each other, expressions powerless and displeased.
"I understand that you don’t want an Easterner to become so successful in the Royal Academy of Music—this is Anglo’s glory, after all," Gavin stated. "But if people want to win, shouldn’t they do it fair and just? We’re all musicians and not some lowly thieves. If you can’t even think about winning fairly, then how are you qualified for searching for the Originator and the ultimate truth?"
Someone hesitated and said quietly, "Actually, if we unite all the schools…"
"Must I remind everyone of something?" Gavin interrupted expressionlessly. "The world is large and there are many types of people. All types have been investigated by early saints. I won’t say much about this, but you must understand that no matter how many types of people there are, Ye Qingxuan is definitely the most difficult to manage. The more pressure you give him, the stronger he’ll bounce back, and the more terrifying he’ll be. I’m sure you’ve all experienced this personally, yes?"
Gavin’s words caused everyone to sink into silence and let out wry chuckles involuntarily. Indeed, had they not experienced enough? Not only had that Easterner been forced out due to the pressure in recent months, he had even risen higher and higher. He was definitely not the kind who tolerated injustice well. Whenever he felt that he was being insulted, he would slap them right back. It was fast, harsh, and painful. Now…they were powerless against him.
Cullen shook his head and sighed. "So should we just sit here and ignore it?"
"Why not?" Gavin asked in reply. "If we follow the rules of the game, isn’t it logical that he’s first place?"
"But…"
"There are no buts. He deserves this, doesn’t he? What right do we have to deny this result?" Gavin shook his head slightly. His expression grew serious and he gazed at the others. Raising his voice, he said, "I will officially graduate and leave after one more month. The student council will be handed over to Cullen. We’ve all seen his working ability and contributions to the school, so there aren’t any objections, correct?"
Gavin’s words stunned everyone. Cullen could not process them. After one minute, he pointed at himself in shock. "Me?"
They did not expect that Gavin had chosen his right-hand man Cullen. He had become used to being the right-hand man and had never thought that he could one day become the president.
"I…can’t?" Cullen was a bit hesitant.
"Wasn’t I far worse than you now when I first entered the position?" Gavin chuckled and patted Cullen’s shoulder. "Everyone here are the elites of the academy and the core of the student council. Nothing will go wrong with all these people. Don’t worry. I’m going to report to the Royal Musician Division tonight, so let’s part now."
He rose, put on his jacket and hat, and nodded toward everyone in the room. "I hope that everyone will be as united as when I was here and continue to maintain this excellent order. Do not let dust gather on our glory."
"Do not let dust gather on our glory!" The youths rose and chanted the motto of their school, seeing Gavin off respectfully. Gavin smiled and turned to leave, walking into the afternoon sun outside the door. He faded into the distance.
-
As the afternoon sun descended gradually, dusk’s glow illuminated the world. The school day had finally ended as well. After the series of weird events and psychological attacks that caught them by surprise, the hellish trials that tested everyone’s willpower and hearts finally ended.
It was such great news. Everyone thought of the beauty of a peaceful life, and content smiles filled their faces; they were practically celebrating. If this was in the East, the students would definitely use firecrackers to send the bad luck away.
In the auditorium, everyone sat gravely in their seats, waiting for the arrival of the last moment, but there was a light and cheery atmosphere between them all. The authority figure at the podium was saying things that sounded impressive but were actually useless bullsh*t. Behind the podium, Ye Qingxuan was nervously tidying himself up. He had put on formalwear just for the occasion.
Charles yanked and the collar tightened. Ye Qingxuan abruptly felt like he was putting on a noose. "Senior, be gentle! You want to strangle me?"
"Be more serious. You have to go up for the award later." Charles dumped a thick wad of hair wax onto Ye Qingxuan’s head, slicking his hair up. His bare forehead glistened. Seeing the youth’s discomfort, Charles said seriously, "Later, the principal will award you personally. Yezi, don’t be nervous."
"Why do you want to make me look so weird?!" Ye Qingxuan sighed. "And anyway, it’s just the principal. It’s not like I’ve never seen him before."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "My friend, you pretending to be cool reminds me of my younger self."
"Ha, you’ve taught me well."
"The feeling is mutual."
The two snarky friends started praising each other, not caring that the people around them had quietly moved away and pretended not to know them.
"Senior, did you notice that no one wants to deal with us anymore?"
"Really?" Charles glanced around and chuckled. "They’re probably jealous of our beauty."
Ye Qingxuan’s lip curled; he did not want to deal with Charles anymore either.
Just as they were talking, cheers traveled from the stage. The students backstage waved hurriedly, reminding him that he was supposed to go on soon. Onstage, the principal could wait no longer.
"Where’s our first place? Where’s Concertmaster Ye?" He whistled happily and continued on, making things worse. "It was really unexpected for an international student from the East to win first place at the school day trials of Anglo’s Royal Academy of Music. All of you must work harder not to be passed by too much!"
The audience was deathly silent; clearly, it was a blow to their dignity. The coaches behind the principal did not have pretty expressions either, but they could not do anything—this was reality.
Ye Qingxuan just felt his scalp go numb. He had not even accepted the award yet, but already felt the strong resentment.
"Come, youth. Come to my side." The principal made a show of dragging Ye Qingxuan over. He took a once-over of the youth as if studying some rare treasure. After a long while, he suddenly sighed in regret. "I can’t believe you wore a Western suit. What a pity. Your hairstyle is horrible too. Your hairstylist must be lucky that he isn’t killed yet."
Ye Qingxuan shook his head and sighed again. Embarrassed, he glared at Charles, who was hiding behind the curtains.
Maxwell patted the youth’s shoulders and lamented, "To be honest, I was anticipating your Eastern clothing—the wide robe and big sleeves, the aura of a junzi, the intoxicating exoticness! An Eastern silkworm caretaker gave me a black lan robe. Would you like to try it?"
Here, he fluttered his lashes and gazed at Ye Qingxuan expectantly, wishing the youth would nod right away.
"Uh…" Ye Qingxuan did not know what to say. "It’s okay. I came to Anglo when I was young and probably won’t look like it even if I put it on."
"Really? What a pity." Maxwell shook his head in regret and said seriously, "The East is a great place. You should go visit."
Behind them, Ingmar coughed, reminding the principal to stop dragging things on and get it over with. Either because it worked or that the principal was done bullsh*tting, he cleared his throat and finally stopped. He clapped and stately music began playing.
Beside the podium, two girls in long white dresses walked over with a silver plate. The youth’s award and certificate were on the plate.
One must admit that the old pervert had good taste. As the two girls walked over elegantly, their curves could vaguely be seen under the white dress, attracting many eyes.
After putting on makeup carefully, their cheeks had a fine texture, flawless like Eastern porcelain. Their red lips were like fire and moved hearts. As Charles would say, one could not help but get a little excited.
As the music played, the principal smiled and took the lead in clapping. Soon, the audience began clapping as well. Of the coaches in the background behind the principal, Ludwig clapped happily as if nothing was wrong. Egor was a bit unwilling, but he also managed some claps, giving Ye Qingxuan recognition.
Seeing that everyone was clapping, Ingmar glanced at Ye Qingxuan. He could not help but sneer, smiling without moving his facial muscles, and clapped as well.
But just as the youth was about to accept the award, the principal suddenly stopped. He whacked his forehead, as if suddenly remembering something. "Ah, my memory is so bad! There’s more big news I need to announce!"
The mood suddenly dropped. The music stopped as well. Everyone gaped at the principal, who was fluttering his eyes animatedly, as if he had found gold on the road and was overjoyed. Seeing how happy he was, everyone instantly had a bad feeling. What was going to happen now?
God bless…
Perhaps God did bless them, because this time, his words did not seem like bad news. In fact, everyone was caught by surprise by this amazing news. He said, "This morning, I received news that one of our highly renowned professors found inspiration in his teaching and decoded the hardest question of our profession—the last part of the Voynich Manuscript!"
Everyone fell into a long silence. The students who did not know about the Voynich Manuscript, which had troubled Revelations musicians for decades, looked around in confusion. The students who did know were speechless from shock.
The last part of the Voynich Manuscript had been decoded?
There had been no progression made for centuries, other than bits and pieces. Even Miss Lola Caput, known as the new grandmaster, had stated that the last part was impossible to decode within a few decades if there was no development in music theory. But it had been decoded now?
If this news was spread, all Revelations musicians in the world would be ecstatic. The Voynich Manuscript not only contained ancient history; the decoding method was a big step forward for their music theory! This would undoubtedly create a new storm in the world—they could practically see a theoretic revolution!
But in the dark corner behind the principal, Ingmar’s heart sank. He was completely confused—he did not understand how Maxwell had known this news that would be published in the Sacred City Conference in two months, whereas he had just found out before coming here. He looked into the crowd subconsciously. Seeing that the d*mned fellow did not appear, he let out a breath in relief.
"Please rest assured that I am not joking this time." Under everyone eyes, Maxwell took a thin booklet from his pockets and waved. "This accomplishment has been recognized by the Sacred City. The scholars of the evaluation committee commented that it’s a brave and revolutionary decoding method that has opened a whole new path. A shining star has risen! The last section of the Voynich Manuscript has undoubtedly been decoded!
"In a few days, the Philosopher’s Bell of the Sacred City will be rung and announce this giant breakthrough of music theory to the world. Ah, he’s really so low-key. If not for my friends in the Church, even I wouldn’t know that he’d made such fruitful findings! Let’s bring our hands together to congratulate this professor." He paused and abruptly dragged an unprepared coach from the back. "Let us congratulate Mr. Ingmar!"
Caught by surprise, Ingmar was dragged under the spotlight. His face was slightly pale. In the silence, he only had time to force a hurried smile onto his face, before thunderous applause sounded. The clapping and cheers that sounded like a tsunami practically overturned the auditorium.
It must be more than ten times louder than before!
In the warm applause, Ingmar’s heart slowly stabilized. Calming down, he smiled and waved reservedly, nodding his head. He did not notice the quiet white-haired youth behind him. Deep in thought, the youth looked at Ingmar’s trembling calves and furrowed his brows. Dark clouds slowly appeared in his eyes.
-
"My apologies," the youth opened his mouth and murmured soundlessly. Without anyone realizing, he slightly lifted his foot and stepped onto the dress of the girl beside him. He pulled back forcefully.
The shoulder of the girl smiling gracefully on the stage suddenly trembled. She stumbled back and involuntarily retreated. Following that, her heels scraped against the floorboard and she lost balance. The silver plate flew out of her hands and she fell backward.
The audience stared and cried out in shock. She had lost balance instantly, and she shrieked when she realized she was falling. She squeezed her eyes shut, but then she felt someone step forward and grasp her waist.
Her falling stopped abruptly.
The falling motion transformed into a spin under the gentle push, like a dance move. Her white dress flew as she spun. The silver thread reflected the light with a dazzling shine. It was pure white as a peony flower. She was stunned.
She felt a hand supporting her so that she did not fall onto the floor. As if she was flying, her cheeks pressed against the suit, against that foreign chest. A steady heartbeat and heat traveled from the chest so that she was no longer terrified. Her shriek died off.
In the awkward silence, she forced her eyes and was met with the white-haired youth. The youth held her tiny waist with one hand, the other holding the silver plate and award that had fallen from the sky.
The young but defined face looked down on her; her panicked expression reflected in his eyes. His slightly scratchy voice was gentle. "Are you alright?"
Blush tinted the girl’s face as she shook her head. Putting her weight on him, she stood up and regained her elegant posture. However, her eyes could not recover its indifference and grace.
As they spun, Ingmar had been pushed forward. He stumbled and looked back, glaring at Ye Qingxuan. He was angry that the clapping had been interrupted. Ye Qingxuan did not care about this. He just looked down and picked up the booklet that he had "accidentally" swept from the principal’s hands. He brushed off the dust on it. "Ah, I’m sorry, your notes were knocked down too."
Ingmar’s expression stiffened. He reached over to take the notes away, but Ye Qingxuan casually flipped it open, scanning the pages. Ingmar tried to take the notes, but realized that he could not. It was as if the pages had been embedded in stone.
The youth’s movements stopped too. He looked at the papers in his hand and froze. As his hands loosened, the bent pages opened. The pages flashed past his eyes, the quickly disappearing words barely leaving any shadows. One page, one page, another page were so familiar, as if he had seen it before.
In the end, the youth looked up, but his eyes had changed. There was only blackness in those orbs. There were neither reflections nor any fury. It was as if everything had been swallowed by something hiding in the darkness, and so only pure blackness remained.
Stared at by those eyes, Ingmar blanched. He stepped back involuntarily, but his eyes soon darkened as he forced himself to remain calm.
"Hey, Ingmar." The youth suddenly asked quietly, "Don’t you get scared walking at night when you do something guilty?"
"What do you mean?" Ingmar furrowed his brows.
"I mean…" The youth clenched his fists in his sleeves, the muscles pulling taught like a bow, producing furious cracks. Then he raised his fist and slammed it down on that d*mned face. "You b*stard who lost all dignity as a musician!"