On dark mountain paths or highways, Andre would walk when he was tired from running, and even walk and run when he had enough rest.
"Huhu"
Sweating profusely and panting, he imagined what kind of "lake view villa" he would see next.
Huh, according to common sense, there should be a decent house by the lake. The appearance and basic specifications seem to be in line with what was said before. After all, it is too difficult to "make something out of nothing" and complete a full set of fake procedures.
The trick may lie in the "piano asset worth 400 pounds", which is a variable used to make people make irrational choices. Out of greed for cheap, the victim bought this set at a price much higher than the market value.
Such a practical country property
But if the liar is more crazy, there may not even be a shell left at the scene, or, only a shell will be left.
While leaning on the stone on the side of the road and gasping for air, Andre's mind kept imagining the desolate, overgrown, and dilapidated lakeside. He was really worried that his investment journey had "broken an arm" before he even started.
"Lamented by fate.
Fortunately, he was very familiar with the area of Mutterlawn in the more than a year since he returned home. As he rushed all the way, the time it took was shortened a lot.
At nine o'clock in the evening, he passed through the northwest gate of the arc-shaped town and walked towards the fields adjacent to the lake.
It's quiet here, with the occasional faint chirping of insects.
The lights of the small town behind him are getting farther and farther away.
Andre, who was sweating profusely due to the heat, felt that the anxiety in his heart was gradually growing.
But at a certain moment, he suddenly saw the light ahead.
There seemed to be flashlights, car lights, searchlights, and the vague outline of a small house.
And a large circle of onlookers?
"What happened?"
"Isn't it very late now?"
"Sorry, sorry"
He asked while struggling to push through the crowd and squeeze inside.
No one answered him, but he could still hear a lot of these people's noisy conversations.
"real or fake?"
"The young composer who came to this lake for vacation from the big city a few years ago is actually the former music director of the old symphony orchestra, Carolne Van Ning?"
"The one who left a waltz melody?"
"Didn't you come here often? Why did you never know?"
"Don't blame me, he never said his name."
Several country musicians looked at each other.
"Yes, our family invited him to a banquet and gave lessons to my two little daughters."
The man who looked like he was dressed as a country squire looked reminiscing.
"I also gave him fruit four or five times, a big basket of apricots and peaches!"
The country woman has a loud voice.
Lakeside vacation?Caroline Van Ning!?
Amid the whispers, Andre pushed forward desperately. Perhaps after the long run, the sweat and heat on his body was too heavy, so many people subconsciously got out of the way.
After squeezing into the front row, he saw two high-end off-road vehicles parked at the door of the cabin. Several people in suits and ties, who looked like gentlemen and ladies from the big city, were talking with the municipal officials of the local town.
"Are you saying that when Mr. Fan Ning left this place, he did not transfer it or anything like that?"
"This does not seem to be the case. He left quietly. Many of our residents and musician friends felt sorry for him at that time. Although we did not know his identity, we got along very happily. There is no doubt that he was already a person by that time.
A talented young man.”
"Then, did the ownership of this hut change later? Who does it belong to now? Who should we contact if we want to go in and take a look?"
"I'm afraid we need to verify this carefully tomorrow." The town official was in trouble, "The professors have come all the way, why not go back to the town to settle down and rest?"
Andre realized something, and he suddenly got angry and shouted:
"it's me!"
"I bought it a while ago!"
My investment plan seemed to have a special meaning in his mind, but he hadn't had time to completely penetrate it.
The crowd fell silent for an instant, and in full view of the public, he walked out with a somewhat frivolous step, his arms trembling faintly, and he raised the two certificates stamped with the notary's seal to the light.
"The last owner, Mendeleev?"
The leading middle-aged man came closer, frowned, then turned his head and laughed at his fellow travelers.
"It's really him. This name is still used today."
"If I remember correctly, this was the party code I used when I first joined the Guidance School."
"The transaction price is 200 pounds Andre, right? Young man, you have a very unique vision. Do you like this place and want to move here?"
??????55.??????
Others also spoke with gentleness and kindness.
"I" Andre said as if in a dream, "I, I am doing it for investment purposes, Turner Art Cinema. I want to build a small art museum in the countryside. Excuse me, what are you gentlemen coming here for?"
?”
"Haha, that's a coincidence."
"Build a small cinema chain restaurant here? What a great idea, what a great idea." Several other people were still discussing and commenting.
What a coincidence? Andre's mouth opened wide.
"Introducing myself, Schutz, president of the branch of the Bologna School at the University of San Lenia and dean of the Conservatory of Music."
The middle-aged gentleman in the lead handed over a business card.
"We also recently learned from an inconspicuous interview transcript in the school archives that at the 1913 graduation concert, our outstanding alumnus, great composer and conductor Carolyn Van Ning performed
"Symphony No. 1 in D major" was actually written in this 'composer's cabin' on the shores of Lake Metraun. It's such a quiet and beautiful landscape of mountains and rivers."
"" When Andre heard this, his expression was completely dull.
"So, now that there are new gains and new links, our 'school history compilation team' has sent people over at night to prepare to investigate Mr. Fan Ning's one-month experience here!"
"Caron, why did you suddenly decide to help him?"
In the early morning of April 18, on the train returning to Ufranser, in the first-class compartment, Sheeran across from me was holding a knife and carefully cutting the long vanilla cream cake roll on the porcelain plate into small pieces.
"Not help."
"It's just that I want to deal with the past that I can't get back."
Fan Ning held his chin with one hand and looked at the rapidly regressing scenery outside the window.
"Okay." Sheeran took a sip of milk from the paper cup, "But in terms of the result, it did change the fate of a young man passing by, didn't it?"
Even if his talent did not meet the requirements and he could not make a living from music performance or creation, to a certain extent, the reversal of his fate was even greater than that of young children who have been rescued by art.
For a price of 200 pounds, he obtained a "master's former residence"-level asset. What is this concept for a young man who is trying to invest in an art gallery in the countryside?
"Well, maybe I think he is similar to me." Fan Ning no longer denied this, nodded, sat in front of the table, and picked up the shepherd's pie on the plate.
What will an ordinary person who loves art but does nothing achieve in the end?
It’s a proposition that becomes more interesting the more I think about it, and the more I think about it, the more I can’t get rid of it.
"With you?" Sheeran said in surprise, "How can this be comparable? You are knowledgeable and talented. Your endless inspiration and imagination are like gifts from creation. Even if you put aside all creation, you are still a genius.
A great conductor and performer, even if he puts them aside, he is also an outstanding musicologist and music educator."
"I'm talking about the past." Fan Ning bit into the richest corner of the pie, which was the crispy beef and mushrooms.
"Before? You mean in middle school or childhood? That's not right either. I'm full."
Sheeran folded the paper towels for wiping her mouth, and then pushed all the exquisite small porcelain plates in the direction of Fan Ning.
"It's so fast. Let's have a few more bites."
"My stomach is small, and it's all yours."
A few minutes later, Fanning sat back in her seat and opened Sheeran's work notebook.
"It seems that after I go back, the pace will not be so leisurely. Just like when I was writing 'Resurrection', my work status was the same. There are still a lot of relationships to coordinate, as well as foreseeable disputes with the authorities every seven years.
Harvest Art Festival, periodic abnormal ebb tide, X coordinate, Qiong guarding the southern projection of area B-105"
It was originally purely thinking about work plans, but as time went by, Fan Ning's thoughts fell into the source of chaos again.
"It's not bad, it's a year with a sense of expectation." Sheeran, who has relieved most of the pressure these days, stretched out with a sense of dependence, "When I set off for this trip to Metraun, I
I am very much looking forward to it. Now I am still looking forward to what will happen after I return, starting from tonight’s comeback concert. What’s wrong with you? What’s this expression?”
She suddenly noticed that Fan Ning was thinking and thinking, his brows furrowed deeply.
"Sheeran, we seem to have forgotten something."
"ah?"
"Our original intention seems to be to investigate your former residence in Eagles, right? The lake tour, the composer's cabin, and the re-enactment of the collection route are just plans along the way, right?"
With a whoosh, darkness descended, and the train entered the long tunnel. The sharp airflow shook the windows.
"Why don't we go back directly after taking a leisurely tour of Metraun?"