Lin Xia stood nervously outside the music studio, clutching her sheet music tightly. The rain had started again, tapping gently against the windows. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Gu Yan was already there, seated at the piano. He looked up as she entered, his dark eyes softening slightly. "You're early," he remarked, his voice calm but with a hint of warmth.
"I didn't want to be late for my first lesson," Lin Xia replied, setting her bag down. The studio was cozy, with soft lighting and a faint scent of old books and wood polish. A grand piano stood in the center, its polished surface reflecting the dim light.
Gu Yan gestured to the piano bench. "Sit," he said. "Let's see what you can do."
Lin Xia sat down, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed them on the keys. She began to play a simple piece, one she had practiced countless times. But under Gu Yan's watchful gaze, her nerves got the better of her, and she stumbled over a few notes.
"Stop," Gu Yan said gently. He moved closer, his presence both comforting and intimidating. "You're thinking too much. Music isn't just about the notes—it's about feeling."
He placed his hands over hers, guiding her fingers to the right keys. His touch was firm but gentle, and Lin Xia felt a shiver run down her spine. "Close your eyes," he instructed. "Listen to the rain. Let it guide you."
Lin Xia obeyed, letting the sound of the rain outside fill her ears. Slowly, she began to play again, this time with more confidence. The melody flowed more naturally, and she could feel the emotion behind each note.
"Better," Gu Yan said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But there's still something missing."
"What is it?" Lin Xia asked, turning to look at him.
"Pain," he replied simply. "You play beautifully, but your music lacks depth. True artistry comes from experiencing pain and turning it into something beautiful."
Lin Xia frowned, sensing the weight behind his words. "Is that why your music is so moving? Because you've experienced pain?"
Gu Yan's expression darkened, and he looked away. "Perhaps," he said quietly. "But that's a story for another time."
The lesson continued, with Gu Yan patiently guiding Lin Xia through each piece. Despite his reserved demeanor, she could sense a deep passion for music within him. It was as if the piano was an extension of his soul, a way for him to express emotions he couldn't put into words.
As the lesson drew to a close, Lin Xia gathered her things, her mind buzzing with new ideas and inspiration. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "I've learned so much already."
Gu Yan nodded, his gaze distant. "You have potential," he said. "But remember, music is a journey, not a destination. Don't rush it."
Lin Xia smiled, feeling a newfound determination. "I won't," she promised. "And... I hope you'll share your story with me someday."
Gu Yan's eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of vulnerability. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "We'll see," he said softly.
As Lin Xia stepped out into the rain, she couldn't help but feel that she was on the brink of something extraordinary. Gu Yan's music, his pain, his mysterious past—it all drew her in, like a melody she couldn't resist.