Spencer’s sharp eyes scanned the members like a blade cutting through the air.
It was a rehearsal without a concertmaster. The deputy first violinist, who had taken on the role, was having a hard time.
The tension was higher than usual. Even minor mistakes were not tolerated, as if it were a real performance.
Like an eagle snatching a fish from beneath the surface in one swift move.
“Cello―!”
The cellist flinched. The pitch difference was so subtle that others might not have noticed, but Spencer did not let it slide.
Despite there being no audience in the seats, the members’ foreheads were covered in sweat from the tension.
“Again―!”
Spencer pointed to the horn with his long finger, indicating they would start over from the first movement.
The horn and bassoon players, who were responsible for the introduction, shook off their tense shoulders.
Even though the rehearsal had been going on for hours, no one complained. It was a testament to their trust in the maestro.
Then it happened.
Crack.
Spencer raised his arm with his injured shoulder and clenched his fist. It meant it was time for a break. Only then did the members release their tense shoulders and exhale the breaths they had been holding.
It was only when the principal cellist, Emanuel, looked up that he understood the reason for the break. Beyond his gaze, the concertmaster, Dmitri, was just entering.
“He said he wouldn’t attend?”
Spencer’s eyes wavered as if in shock. But soon, they burned brightly again, as if a flame had been reignited. His wrinkled cheek twitched. Who would have thought a conductor would refuse a royal performance!
“He said it would be difficult to adjust his schedule right now.”
“Dmitri, did you explain what this performance means?”
“Of course, Maestro.”
A sigh of exasperation escaped Spencer’s lips. Everyone knew what a royal performance in England meant. Especially Dmitri, the concertmaster of the London Symphony, wouldn’t have failed to explain it properly.
For a violinist, the dream stage might be Brussels, but for conductors, the dream stage was a royal performance. Famous conductors from America and Asia didn’t hesitate to choose England at a single call.
“I need to hear the reason.”
“Maestro, Hyun is currently crafting a narrative.”
“Are you saying he’s composing a symphony?”
Spencer’s eyes widened. Who would have known he was composing a symphony?
If it was the original pieces he had showcased at recitals, it wasn’t impossible. He could be considered a genius among geniuses.
On the other hand, an immense curiosity surged within him, like a tidal wave. He was very curious about the story Hyun was writing in his symphony.
“At first, I thought it was the arrogance of a young musician. I believed the royal performance was more important, even if he was composing a symphony. But after hearing the incomplete first movement, my mind changed.”
“Changed?”
“After completing the symphony, I asked him to choose England if he felt inclined. I couldn’t disturb Hyun’s time any longer. To exaggerate, the narrative Hyun is writing gave me a more intense shock than any piece I’ve ever heard.”
Dmitri’s cold eyes were burning hot. Spencer licked his dry lips as if he had been waiting for this moment.
It seemed excessive to give Hyun preferential treatment compared to other conductors, but he didn’t mind. What kind of symphony had Hyun presented to make the usually composed concertmaster this excited?
Gulp―!
Baek Junghoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed significantly. Like a student holding the test of a lifetime, Baek Junghoon couldn’t take his eyes off the sheet music.
Was this how a Joseon-era diplomat felt when first encountering Western culture? As he turned each page of the score, his admiration showed no signs of stopping.
How much time had passed? When Baek Junghoon finally looked up, his eyes were filled with deep emotion and excitement.
“Crazy.”
Just three words, but there was no better way to describe the score. All the changes in his emotions were encapsulated in that concise expression.
It started with a powerful horn melody cutting through the twilight.
The orchestration mimicked the galloping sound of piano triplets, like the sound of horses’ hooves.
Right now!
In the low bass of the cello and viola, which depicted the fog, a dynamic dawn melody began to awaken everyone. Particularly, the choral part brought the emotions to a climax.
Baek Junghoon was lost in the orchestral feast resonating in his mind.
“Hyung, are you okay?”
At Kang Hyun’s voice, Baek Junghoon snapped his head up. Seeing the boy before him, he again felt the wall of talent.
Did this boy know what kind of music he had created?
Surely, if this symphony were revealed to the world, many musicians would cheer, while many others would feel despair. Just like the voices of the era that looked at Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
“How did you decide on the instrumentation?”
“Horns and bassoons, flutes and oboes, clarinets, trumpets, timpani, five-part strings, and in the second and fourth movements, cymbals, bass drum, and trombone parts are added. Of course, there’s also a four-part mixed choir.”
He was speechless. To Baek Junghoon, Kang Hyun seemed almost monstrous. He, too, had been called a prodigy from a young age, but not to this extent.
Moreover, wasn’t this Hyun’s first composed symphony? Of course, musicians who made a mark in history all acted extraordinarily. Even just a few decades ago, Jascha Heifetz was like that.
But Kang Hyun was on a different level. Baek Junghoon couldn’t let go of the sheet music, as if he were facing a historical moment.
He couldn’t take this reality lightly.
“Hyun-ah, have you listened to it?”
“Of course, hyung.”
Did he listen to it through a machine? But Kang Hyun chuckled and tapped his head with his finger.
Ah, he must not have premiered it through a machine. A grand orchestra was already in that kid’s head.
“Actually, there’s still a lot to refine.”
“Where exactly?”
“Even though the score is complete, it’s hard to gauge how the performers will breathe. Especially the chorus part, which is quite new to me, so I’m a bit nervous.”
Lies. Kang Hyun’s eyes were already filled with excitement, swallowing the word “nervous.”
It was hard to believe he had anything to refine. Kang Hyun was likely being modest, conscious of Baek Junghoon.
“Hyun-ah, where do you plan to premiere it?”
For a musician, nothing was more important than the premiere. Especially since Hyun would be conducting his symphony. Therefore, he needed members he could trust.
“I’m planning to ask in London. Of course, it will only be allowed after the royal performance.”
“London Symphony?”
“Yes, but it might already be too late. I’ve heard that prominent conductors have all headed to England. Still, I’m looking forward to seeing the members after a long time. I wonder how much they’ve improved.”
Though he said that, he didn’t seem scared at all. Wasn’t he already accustomed to meeting the world’s best orchestras?
Kang Hyun truly loved music by now.
At that moment, Im Hyera, the director, called for Kang Hyun. Only after the boy disappeared from sight did Baek Junghoon run his thick hand over his face.
He had thought he was close to catching up, but the boy had already advanced far ahead.
A tumultuous emotion swirled in Baek Junghoon’s heart.
Suddenly, he wondered if this was how a general felt heading into battle. As he walked out of the airport, his shoulders felt heavy.
It wasn’t because he had a lot of luggage. The overwhelming support made him feel like he had to conduct for the British royal family.
The principal even wanted to hang a banner, calling him the face of the school.
‘You rascal, off to shoot another movie?’
The voice of the old man with a snake-like grin floated in his head. When he mentioned going abroad, he looked at him with hopeful eyes, as if expecting him to meet Yooha.
But if he were to conduct for the British royal family, there would be no time to relax. He needed to be perfect without a single error.
By the way.
Rattle-rattle―!
It was as if a tiger was getting married; the clear sky suddenly poured down rain. Luckily, he had an umbrella prepared, or he would have ended up looking like a drenched rat.
He stepped out of the airport and looked for Chrissy. She had played the role of guardian in England and Germany before, so she was an indispensable part of this trip as well.
“A blue van.”
As he was searching for the vehicle Chrissy had mentioned, he noticed a blue van parked behind him.
Chrissy had said she had some business in the morning and would send a driver instead.
When he knocked on the trunk, it opened as if waiting. There was no sign of help, so he loaded his luggage by himself and got into the back seat.
‘This is odd.’
The driver didn’t look at the rearview mirror even once and started driving as soon as he closed the back door.
From his appearance, he seemed Asian, and Hyun wondered if he couldn’t speak English.
Throughout the drive to the London Symphony, the driver didn’t say a word.
His driving skills, however, were top-notch.
Wang Chun was a newcomer who had recently joined the Kumwang Group.
He had risen quickly through the ranks and luckily became the driver for the owner’s family at a young age. His family had thrown a village party when he joined the Kumwang Group, celebrating by slaughtering a pig.
Of course, in China, Kumwang Group was a fast track to social mobility.
But who would have thought he’d end up in the British branch so soon?
- Escort the young master.
The eldest son of the Kumwang Group didn’t engage in management; he was said to be a musician. Wang Chun had never seen his face.
Having no interest in music and never having listened to classical music, he only knew that the eldest daughter was more recognized as the successor than the eldest son.
- He is temperamental and sensitive, so be very careful.
It was said that he was unconventional, as evidenced by calling only one driver to meet him.
Then, someone knocked on the trunk of the blue van. He didn’t need to look to know it was the young master.
- Act with tact. Maintain silence until he speaks first.
Being temperamental and sensitive, Wang Chun carefully escorted the young master.
He didn’t even dare to look at his face in the rearview mirror, fearing he might offend him.
As soon as he heard the young master settle into the back seat, he cautiously pressed the accelerator. Beads of sweat rolled down Wang Chun’s forehead as he concentrated on making smooth turns.
When he opened his eyes after a short nap, he saw an unfamiliar scene outside the window. The vehicle, which should have been heading to the London Symphony, seemed to be going in a completely different direction.
Passing through the densely packed city buildings, they were now heading toward a lush suburban area.
Soon, a mansion that rivaled the grandeur of those in Pyeongchang-dong appeared.
The iron gates opened automatically, leading to a long garden. The estate seemed larger than combining the mansions of Pyeongchang-dong and Ichon-dong.
Where on earth is this?
“We’ve arrived, young master.”
Young master?
It was definitely Cantonese. Though it could have sounded complex with its nine tones, the driver addressed him with utmost respect.
Looking closely, he noticed the driver was sweating nervously, not meeting his eyes. Anyone would think he was about to eat him alive.
Moreover, before he could say anything, others hurriedly approached, opened the door, and took out his luggage from the trunk.
“Young master, have you arrived―!”
Just then, an elderly butler with white hair came running out of the mansion barefoot.
Nothing made sense. Why was he being called young master, and where was this place?
The elderly butler’s eyes widened like saucers as he approached.
“Who are you?”
Damn it.
That’s what I want to ask.
