Chapter 11 — The Last Gift Is Goodbye

I thought a bit.

"It's normal, there are no special feelings."

"Really?"

Three years ago, when I thought I had lost everything, I made a vow."

"Swear what?"

"Not for revenge, but for fairness."

"Fair?"

"He hurt me, he must be punished. It's as simple as that."

Dao Nhien was silent for a moment.

"So what are you going to do next?"

"Next, I'll go back to doing what I should do."

Two years later. Paris, Champs-Elysees Theater. Final round of the 12th Chopin International Piano Competition. I sat in the makeup room backstage, wearing a pure black tuxedo. The left hand rests loosely on the knee. The five fingers slowly perform warm-up movements — each finger is very obedient, each finger is full of strength. The knock on the door rang out two short times. Dao Nhien poked her head in.

"Nien Niem, it's almost your turn."

"How long?"

"Five minutes."

I stood up, looked at myself in the mirror. The person in the mirror is a little different from five years ago. A little thinner, but the light in his eyes has become much more steadfast. The scar on the finger is still there, but now it's just a faint line, unable to hinder anything anymore.

"Tense?" Dao Nhien asked.

"You're not worried, but I'm really worried."

"Don't be so twisted.

This is just a competition."

"Just a competition? More than two hundred contestants around the world, in the end only four people were able to stand on this final stage. Among them is Lam Niem, who was drugged and forced to quit, and had his finger broken three years ago - but you dare say it's just a competition?"

I patted her shoulder: "Please help me look after the phone." Dao Nhien turned over my phone, there was an unread message on the screen. Sender: Tham Dien.

“I'm in the third row of seats in the stands. Same position as five years ago.”

Dao Nhien gave me the phone. I glanced at the text message, the corners of my lips curled up slightly. Five years ago, at the Vienna Golden Hall, he sat in the third row. Five years later, at the Champs-Elysees Theater in Paris, he was still sitting in the same position. I put the phone down on the table, pushed the door open and walked out. When the stage lights fell, applause from the audience rushed in like a tidal wave. I sat down in front of the piano. The black and white keys quietly waited for me. I lifted my left hand. The three fingers that had been broken now landed on the keys extremely firmly. Chopin's Ballade No. 4. From the first note, I knew — this time, no one could stop me. Ten years later. A black Bentley stopped in front of the Music Academy gate. When I got off the bus, the security guard recognized me immediately.

"Hello Professor Lam."

"Hello, uncle."

Currently, I am a visiting professor at this academy, coming here to teach for two months every year. The rest of the time, I live in Vienna. After the Chopin Competition that year, I won the Gold Prize. That news flooded global music newspapers with the headline: *"Pianist Lam Niem, who dropped out of the award three years ago, has returned to the arena with healed hands"*. Over the next five years, I gave forty-six recitals around the world. Released three albums, and which one also entered the top 10 classical music charts. I also established a music fund named after teacher Trieu Duc Hinh, specializing in sponsoring young piano students who are talented but in difficult circumstances. The registered capital of the fund is five hundred million yuan. Of which, three hundred million is the money I reclaimed in the past, the remaining two hundred million was made by myself. Trieu Nhat Nhien is also currently working at the foundation, in charge of recruiting students in Asia. Dao Nhien is married to a French man, lives in Lyon, and occasionally flies to visit me. What about Tham Dien? Now on my business card, he appears with this title — Husband: Tham Dien. We got married the second year after the Chopin Competition. The day he proposed, he chose the right Vienna Golden Hall.