One

At noon, the dim, quiet end of the high school's hallway is enlivened by bursts of classical music. The boy's hands fly over the piano keys, interpreting Liszt's almost demonic approach. Even after more than a decade of learning, La Campanella's two-octave span and rapid fingering technique make Ming sweat. It was already late autumn, and even the bleak wind that blew autumn leaves off the trees outside the window, could not disturb the boy's concentration and enthusiasm for playing the black and whites. The cluttered and narrow music room possessed his inner world.

It was a newly enrolled girl, attracted to the farthest end of an unfamiliar corridor by the beautiful sound. She stood on tiptoe, slowly turned the handle, and carefully nudged the door. As curious as a kitten, she slowly approached Ming, who was playing the piano with his back to her. Although the girl did not want to disturb his performance, she was still involuntarily drawn to him like a magnet. Not until she accidentally touched the music on the bookcase beside the piano did the boy realize that another person had been standing in his "inner world." Perhaps it was because no one else at school came to the music room during the lunch break when most people were hanging around the playground, or perhaps he was too immersed in Liszt's stunning world, but he was certainly surprised by the unexpected visitor. The flow of time stopped abruptly with the melody, and suddenly a beam of light hit the darkened room, flooded by branches outside the window.

They looked at each other for a while, and the girl nodded slightly to express her appreciation of the boy's performance.

"And you are?" Ming broke the silence.

"Jiang," the girl answered nervously, "You can call me Jiang."

"Well, nice to meet you, Jiang," Ming replied.

There was more silence, and it was fate for two quiet people to meet like this. 

"Have you played piano?" 

Jiang nodded. Ming offered his seat and motioned for the girl to play a song or two. The girl tried her best to bear her restless heart. Shifting her seat forward, the girl placed her hands gently on the piano keys. She began to play Chopin Waltz in C-Sharp Minor. Subtle surprise developed on his face. The fluctuating wind outside the window made the fallen leaves gracefully dance along.

While playing the piano, Jiang didn't notice that her piano wet Ming's eyes. He stares at the piano while his eyes slowly moisten. Slowly, Ming's vision of the girl's elegant hands blurred, replaced by Ming's unforgettable distant memory.

Two

Back in middle school, in the auditorium, a girl sat at a Steinway piano, touching the notes with her hands, playing La Campanella. Her light fingers danced precisely in the high-pitch range, and the hammer struck the strings as if she had heard a bell ringer in the misty forest of an early morning. Now and then, the melody turns, with a series of monophonic rings and a modest chromatic scale, adding a mysterious and hazy color to the theme. She was shining on stage during her performance, provoking students and teachers to look up.

Ming was no exception. Rather than performing on stage, he thought more about the first time he saw a girl practicing the piano through the cracks outside his door after school. A summer breeze blew through the bay window, raising crimson curtains, white gauze curtains behind it, and the girl's long hair. The wind blew the music into the boy's ears. Because he was forced to learn the piano by his parents and teachers, the boy's obsession with the piano slowly wore away. It was the first time since he gave up playing that the elegant sound of the piano touched him.

Ming and the girl were acquainted in the school music room. He opened the door carefully and walked as quietly as he could; but still, Ming’s coat accidentally met the messy music sheet on the table. The girl noticed him, however, did not stop playing until the song was over. At that time, Ming wasn't interested in classical music. Later, he learned through the girl that the piece was Chopin's Nocturne Op9 No1. The girl said she liked Chopin very much and compared him to a sentimental poet, romantic, handsome, and tragic.

After playing, the girl turned her head and asked, "Do you like the piano?" Ming nodded his head in a vague confirmation. The girl seemed to understand his uncertainty and began playing a piece in La Campanella with a bright smile. "It keeps me going; it keeps me attached to the piano," the girl said, pointing to the La Campanella sheet, "I practice arpeggios every day, practicing the basics of scales so that one day I can perform this piece, as Franz Liszt does." Then the boy recalled his motivation for learning the piano in the first place, playing on the shiny stage like Evgeny Kissin does, but not struggling in a narrow, dark room and being scolded by a piano teacher. Since then, the music room has been enriched by Chopin waltzes; the two took turns playing the pure beauty of the 19th century.

Little did he realize then how much he would miss it later.

Three

After graduation, they chose different paths. Ming went to another city to study in high school, while the girl went to a music conservatory to continue improving her skills. Text messages became their only communication method, separated by more than a thousand kilometers. Most of the time, Ming thought about taking the railway to meet the girl, while the girl always hoped the boy would show up in the piano room one day playing Chopin's nocturne. Maybe it is because they don't know each other as they used to, maybe it is because their introverted personalities changed over time, or perhaps it is because their text messages are not as frequent— but it was as if the arrival of winter came early, dusting their worlds with snow. He knew, and she knew, their time to practice the piano, together, was gone. 

Now, the boy watched Jiang's hands coaxing impossibly soothing and unforgettable melodies. Like a ray of glimmer moonlight, like a sinuous river, it is the sound of the soft chirping of birds, the pitter-patter of sensuous rain on the windowsill, the rustling of yellowed leaves on a beautiful autumn morning. on the keys and remembered the Chopin Waltz he used to play with the girl. By this moment, he realized that "the cold winter" had ended, and the snow had melted. But the affections once buried under the snow were blending and flowing away.

Four

Time, opportunities, and fates are inevitable obstacles for teenagers. Time of the train ride; as the train leaves, people standing on distant sides of the intersection are bound to be estranged. It's hard to let go of a relationship, and life is full of regrets, but it must go on. Don't let guilt lead to remorse, but instead cherish life.

 While the boy is still lost in his memories, the last note falls. Jiang turned to him and said with a smile: 

"Your wonderful interpretation of La Campanella will be my motivation for playing piano in the future."