Chapter 132
Chapter 132
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: The Legendary Forsythia
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“It looks like it’s about to start.”
Park Jeonghun nodded absently at the remark from the acquaintance who had come with him, his eyes fixed on the stage.
He was currently at Uesugi Himari’s 20th anniversary concert, tagging along with a few old colleagues who had reunited to perform “The Sun.”
The fact that he’d had to go through ticketing just to see a jazz artist’s show had been a shock in itself, but the sight of tens of thousands of people packing the venue was equally stunning.
He’d known, of course, that Himari was famous.
But he hadn’t imagined that hundreds of thousands would compete in ticketing the moment reservations opened, or that this massive dome would sell out completely.
Sure, Japan had strong demand across all music genres, and like classical music, jazz probably enjoyed even greater love here than in Korea—but he never dreamed it would be to this extent.
And right in the middle of it all, Yeonwoo had taken the piano.
Park Jeonghun was still lingering in the afterglow of the duet between Yeonwoo and Himari.
Himari had been brilliant, but Yeonwoo was Yeonwoo, through and through.
As she launched into that quintessential jazz improvisation—willful, in its way—Yeonwoo had anticipated it all, harmonizing seamlessly and supporting her every step.
An eight-year-old boy with scant experience was effortlessly keeping pace with a pianist of twenty years and worldwide renown.
‘I really should’ve brought him into classical…’
His greed for Yeonwoo surged anew as the performance Yeonwoo had prepared for Himari was about to begin.
A variety of instruments were being set up on stage.
Trombones, saxophones, clarinets—the staples or common fixtures of an orchestra—took their places, joined by a piano.
Unlike a classical setup, though, in came guitars, keyboards, synthesizers—things Park Jeonghun wasn’t particularly fond of.
Then the jazz orchestra members made their entrance.
“Hm?”
Familiar faces appeared.
Even if he tended to look down on jazz a bit, it was the only genre in music school that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with classical.
These were faces he’d seen back when he was a professor—no, dean—at the music college.
‘Professor Maeda Nobuo.’
The man handling bass guitar for Orion and serving as a professor at Tokyo Music College.
‘And his bandmates. Well, Orion…’
Park Jeonghun knew of Orion, of course.
How could he not?
Back when Korean music struggled to break out of the country, let alone the world, this Japanese band had gone to America and dominated the national jazz charts.
Patriotic to his core back then, Park Jeonghun had watched them with a mix of longing for Heo Ok and envy for Japan’s global reach—even in a genre he dismissed.
‘And these guys…’
They were all looking at Yeonwoo.
As he checked out Orion’s lineup on the giant screen, Park Jeonghun could feel their deep trust in Yeonwoo.
Unlike his own juniors, who overlooked even Yeonwoo’s talent just because it was jazz.
They didn’t reject him.
They believed in him, acknowledging him as the leader of this orchestra.
Age and experience didn’t matter.
They saw only Yeonwoo’s talent and skill.
“Man, we used to see big bands like this all the time back in the day. Brings back memories.”
Park Jeonghun glanced at his junior beside him.
“Yeah, you always liked jazz.”
“Still do. Unlike you, hyung, I love all music—jazz or whatever.”
“You know all those musicians up there?”
“Pretty much, yeah? They’re big shots in Japan. That young pianist in the middle—Hashimoto Atsushi. Talented guy; could’ve placed in something like the Chopin Competition if he’d gone classical. Even I think so.”
That level, huh.
With talents like that assembled, expectations were high.
What kind of music would Yeonwoo create leading them?
Wait—
“Hashimoto’s on piano?”
“Yeah? That’s right.”
So what was Yeonwoo doing?
Conducting, maybe?
He knew jazz orchestras sometimes had conductors, but had Yeonwoo ever studied it?
“No way.”
And there was Yeonwoo… standing at the synthesizers and gear.
Right in front of the modern contraptions he despised so intensely.
He stared at Yeonwoo with the mindset of Heungseon Daewongun hearing of U.S. forces advancing on Ganghwa Island.
‘Yeonwoo, that’s not a real instrument!!’
The Heungseon Daewongun of the music world screamed inwardly.
The lights dimmed softly, then bathed the stage in yellow.
Looking closer, the lights formed the shape of forsythia.
In this yellow-tinted world, Yeonwoo scanned his fellow members, then got to work.
A crisp, spring-like electronic sound filled the dome.
Yeonwoo crafted a beat with it, saved and looped it, then raised his hand to cue the rhythm section.
Led by Orion and Atsushi, they busily added their sounds atop the beat.
Next, he pointed to the horn section. The waiting brass players blew life into their instruments.
And the forsythia burst into full bloom.
The light-formed flowers opened wider, dyeing even the audience yellow, while Himari’s rich, blooming renkyo melody warmed hearts with spring.
Park Jeonghun closed his eyes to the song washing over him.
On a day when cold winds made him huddle in his coat, wondering when spring would come, he suddenly noticed the unusually cozy sunlight. Coming to his senses, he looked around—and there were forsythia in full bloom.
Forsythia blanketing the roadside, that vivid yellow hitting him all at once.
Spring is here.
That was exactly it.
Just as he’d felt back then gazing at the forsythia, now he felt spring through the song.
Park Jeonghun opened his eyes and looked at Yeonwoo on the screen.
Busy layering new sounds on the keyboard, Yeonwoo gestured animatedly.
In this moment, he was tuning the entire soundscape of Himari’s “Forsythia” while simultaneously conducting the orchestra.
“Well, I’ll be.”
Park Jeonghun let out an involuntary chuckle.
Those sharp eyes evoked the prized student he cherished, and the way he attended to the whole ensemble recalled a master who’d already left his mark on a genre.
Not everyone could move as one, of course.
Some would get excited, shut out the rest, and charge ahead solo. Others would lag behind.
Some would try to mute their sound, others amplify it.
Yeonwoo caught it all like a ghost, gesturing to draw their focus and fine-tune.
No baton, no standard conducting motions—but he was unmistakably leading them, guiding his own arrangement of Himari’s “Forsythia.”
And masterfully at that.
Handling over ten sections with such precision wasn’t easy.
‘Impressive ears, true talent.’
Yeonwoo seemed like a being crafted by the god of music solely for music.
His innate gifts went beyond musical talent—his very physical abilities seemed optimized for it.
What was that kid hearing with the ears God gave him?
It was almost curious.
Meanwhile, the song built toward its climax.
The blooming forsythia began to fade, new flowers poised to take its place.
The yellow petals vanished as the lights turned red.
A new melody, absent from the original, capped it off.
The spring heralded by forsythia had ripened fully, announcing midspring with cherry blossoms—and the music ended.
The lights, yellow to red, scattered in all directions, evoking drifting petals.
Then green lights.
Signaling summer’s approach, the stage lights went out.
“…….”
Park Jeonghun stared at the dark stage, speechless from the fantastical display.
Ordinary lights illuminated the jazz orchestra as those entranced by Yeonwoo’s magic snapped back to reality, erupting in thunderous cheers.
Unthinkingly, Park Jeonghun stood and clapped.
Seeing him, his companions rose instinctively, following suit.
The standing ovation spread like contagion from Park Jeonghun, bringing the entire audience to their feet.
Yeonwoo stood amid the roaring cheers, gazing out for a long moment before gently closing his eyes.
As if the brightness was too much to bear.
* * *
[Uesugi Himari: The greatest “Forsythia” of my life, and the greatest gift of my 20 years in music. Grateful to Yuin.]
[The finest jazz orchestra from an 8-year-old genius: 10 minutes revealing jazz depths rivaling classical.]
[Orion, Hashimoto Atsushi, and others join Yuin’s jazz orchestra—crowned the highlight of Uesugi Himari’s 20th anniversary concert.]
[The genius evolves endlessly? Korean and Japanese critics unanimously praise Yuin’s jazz orchestra for opening new horizons in jazz.]
Yeonwoo’s performance spread beyond Japan to Korea.
The spring-announcing show drew universal acclaim from media, critics, and musicians alike, destined to become legend.
The public felt the same.
JOP’s official YouTube upload hit over 20 million views in a week, exploding with reactions.
Himari tearing up during the show went viral, as did Yeonwoo hugging her backstage—spreading through news, forums, and SNS as a touching moment.
Amid it all, Yeonwoo said, “It was all for Aunt Himari. I shouldn’t be the one in the spotlight,” earning awe for his maturity beyond his years.
A normal attention-seeker would bask in the ongoing buzz, but after the concert, Yeonwoo packed up the next day and slipped back to Korea secretly.
His abrupt return went unnoticed, and arriving from Haneda to Gimpo, he headed straight for the studio without even unpacking.
“Yeonwoo, don’t push yourself. Why not start back tomorrow?”
Heo Ok’s worried plea got a headshake.
Having faced countless musicians—and the Blue Fairy—Yeonwoo was in a hurry.
The stage had sparked tons of inspiration.
Above all, Olivia Snow’s fairy.
He’d grasped its power through the performance.
‘I know how to use you now.’
With Olivia Snow’s fairy unlocked, he couldn’t wait.
‘I’m making the ultimate album.’
He felt he could craft the pinnacle of his eight-year life right then.