Chapter 1 Blitz on Poland

Author: Mr. Qinzuo, who works hard

Chapter 1 Blitz on Poland

2015, April, Poland, Warsaw, Wilanów District.

Fu Tiao was lying on the bed in the attic, looking at the locked skylight above his head, his eyes blank.

He remembered that he died on the steam liner named the Virginia more than a hundred years ago.

He sailed around the world on that dreamy cruise ship, met and talked with countless musicians, and was even called the number one jazz pianist on the five oceans. Countless brokerage companies invited him to disembark and tour the world.

He looked at the land he had never set foot on, imagining that he might never be able to return to the place where he was born. In the end, he shook his head and refused, sitting quietly in the cabin, waving his fingers in the void, waiting to meet the giant ship.

Towards destruction together.

When there was a loud roar, he felt like he turned into light.

But when he woke up again, he was not on the giant ship, nor on the sea, but on the land that he was extremely afraid of.

This place was Poland, Warsaw, a place he had only heard of before on the ship but had never seen.

And his current name is still Fu Tiao, but now he is just a... poor Chinese piano student.

It seems that because he was not acclimatized, he got caught in the rain when he came here, and due to excessive psychological pressure, the original owner just arrived in Poland and found a loft outside the city to stay, and became ill and bedridden. He was unable to communicate with other people because of the language barrier, and eventually died of illness here.

Above the attic, until he came through time.

The attic was in tatters, with no heating or air conditioning, and only a thin quilt. Even so, Fu Diao's memory converted it to Polish zloty and it cost about 300 RMB per night.

The price is very expensive, but it is already relatively cheap in Poland. Unless he rents a house directly for a month, it will be difficult to find a cheaper house.

The only better thing is that there is an antique piano in the house. Although it is shabby, at least the sound is accurate.

Fu Diao wrapped himself tightly in the quilt, coughed twice, woke up his nose, rubbed his hands, slightly shook his head that had a headache, hugged his body and looked around, his eyes were melancholy, and he slowly exhaled a mouthful of mist.

It was completely white outside the window, and the smog in Warsaw was still very heavy. Even during the day, the whole city was filled with fog. In addition, it had not yet warmed up in April, so the whole city was still extremely cold.

As the mist rose, his expression was complicated.

He was clearly prepared to live and die with the ship, so why did he inexplicably end up on the land he feared the most?

What am I doing in Warsaw...?

It seems like you are participating in some kind of competition?

Boom!

While Fu Diao was thinking about the past, there was a knock on the door of the house, and an English speaker with a strong Polish accent spoke.

"Dior! Are you feeling better? I heard you had a cold. I bought some medicine. Do you want to take some?"

Dior?

Fu Diao thought about it for a long time before he remembered that it might be called "diao", but foreigners couldn't pronounce the flat-waisted tongue sound as clearly as the Chinese, so it sounded a bit like Dior.

The man outside should be Mr. Brotz, the landlord of the house. I met him on the day I moved in, but never saw him again after that.

"Much better. Please wait a moment. I'll come out now."

Fu Diao wrapped his clothes tightly, covered himself with a blanket, walked to the door in his socks, and opened the door. An old man with aged silver hair stood at the door, wearing a cashmere sweater.

When Fu Diao opened the door, he immediately lifted the medicine box in his hand and forced it into Fu Diao's arms.

"This is for treating colds. Just take one tablet a day. I also stewed a pot of Russell soup and fried herrings. Have you eaten? Do you want to come down and eat some together?"

Fu Tiao was stunned. He didn't expect that the landlord was so easy to talk to. However, he didn't act particularly offended. Instead, he smiled and reached out to take the medicine from the landlord's hand.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Brotz. I just need this, but forget about eating. In my house..."

Fu Diao looked at his suitcase. He vaguely remembered that there seemed to be a seasoning called Lao Gan Daddy in his package, as well as a lot of bread that he had just come to buy.

This should be counted as rice, right?

My family was poor and had no money to buy good food, so I could only eat the cheapest food.

Broz seemed to see what Fu Tiao was thinking, and he interrupted: "It's okay, I've burned a little too much, and I can't eat it alone. Come over here and help me."

"So...thank you?"

"Nie Ma za co" Broz waved his hand: "This is in Polish. You're welcome. I'll wait for you in the kitchen."

After that, he leaned on the railing and walked downstairs slowly. Fu Tiao turned around and returned to his room. He rummaged through the clothes in the suitcase and found a slightly thick cashmere sweater. After changing it, he quickly walked

Go downstairs.

The stairs creaked loudly. The house seemed to have been built decades ago. Time had left indelible marks on it, and the heating system of the house seemed particularly bad.

When Fu Tiao entered the kitchen next to the living room, a burst of warmth hit him instantly.

An electric heater stood in the center of the room, with Russell's soup filled with ingredients simmering on the pot. Broz was already standing in front of the pot, processing herring.

The oil pan was heated, and he carefully slid the herring in his hand into the pan along the edge. The oil sizzled, and soon the aroma of the herring flowed out along with the smell of oil smoke.

Broz seemed to hear the sound of the kitchen door opening, and immediately turned his head slightly, looked at Fu Diao, waved the spatula and smiled.

"Wait a moment, the herring has just been cooked. It will be ready soon."

After that, he turned the herring over continuously, and after frying both sides until golden brown, poured on the prepared sauce, brought it to Fu Diao, and wiped the hem with his hands.

"Aha, this is led w oleju z cebul, traditional Polish herring, baked in a sauce of sour cream, onions and garlic."

After saying that, without waiting for Fu Diao to thank him, he turned around and took out his own portion as well, and served him some more Russell soup.

Fu Diao stood there, looking up at the primitive ceiling above his head and the wooden structures around him that looked like cabins. Listening to the Polish words Broz spoke to him in front of him, he was inexplicably reminded of the past.

"Danny..."

"Huh? What?" Broz poked his head from the kitchen in confusion.

Fu Diao shook his head slightly: "No, it's nothing."

Broz didn't pay too much attention, but waited until everything was arranged neatly. Broz then sat down, picked up the spoon and took a sip of the soup, his eyebrows flying, and his expression was extremely comfortable.

"Well, you have to drink some Russell soup to warm your stomach in this weather. Those damn masters, it's already spring, and the smog in the city is so heavy, but you can't even see the slightest bit of sunshine. If it continues like this,

I didn’t die in the blitz, but I froze to death in Warsaw first.”

After saying that, he shook his head and looked at Fu Diao, who was drinking the soup quietly with an uneasy expression, raising his eyebrows slightly. He couldn't help but raise his body back and asked with a hint of curiosity.

"Oh, by the way, Dior, I saw you were in the room and I didn't have time to ask you, what did you do in Warsaw? Don't worry, I'm not spying on you, I'm just a little bit curious. After all, my place is too far away from the city center.

It's far away, and usually no tourists would be willing to stay here. You can be regarded as my first guest since I opened the B&B!"

“What am I doing in Warsaw?”

Fu Diao was in a daze for a while while stirring the Russell soup in the bowl.

He originally wanted to say something else, but looking at the old man in front of him, for some reason, a noun flashed through his head and he couldn't help but speak.

"Nothing, I just came to participate in the preliminaries of the Chopin International Piano Competition. I qualified for the preliminaries."

After saying that, Fu Diao raised his head slightly, with a puzzled look on his face.

Chopin Piano Competition? What is that?

What are the qualifications for the qualifiers?

No, I came to Poland... to participate in the Chopin International Piano Competition? Why should I participate in this competition?

He sighed, and was about to continue explaining, but he didn't expect that the pupils of Broz opposite him couldn't help but dilate, and the spoon he was holding fell into the soup with a clatter, and he exclaimed in an extremely loud voice.

.

"International Chopin Piano Competition?"

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