Chapter 39
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Concerto with a Mistake (2)
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Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1, third movement. This piece generally flows with the piano, strings, and woodwinds trading leads back and forth.
In the early sections, the piano takes the lead, showing the path ahead, while the orchestra follows faithfully in its wake.
'This is pretty satisfying... no, actually better than yesterday.'
The reason lay in the piano's ferocious charge.
How long had it been since she'd encountered a solo instrument reveling so boldly in its own brilliance? Regardless of the reality, the sound Kwon Do-hyun was producing right now felt exactly like that.
Listen to my playing—ain't it just killer?
It was brazen enough to send chills down her spine, yet impossible to hate. That piano was broadcasting a beautiful tone worthy of exaltation.
'Yeah, go ahead and sweep me away.'
The thought rose naturally in her mind.
For an instrument in the orchestra, it was a feeling the heart couldn't ignore, even if the head tried to resist.
With a soloist like this, she'd gladly play the supporting role in any piece. Even if that soloist was her, the trumpeter with the famously high standards.
'His immersion is no joke...'
Kwon Do-hyun kept his head buried in the keys throughout, fingers flying nonstop.
Even in the piano's brief rests, his foot tapped the rhythm, eyes locked on his next entry cue.
He spared not a glance for the orchestra.
The trumpet had relatively more downtime in this piece, letting Kim Ga-eul focus even more intently on Kwon Do-hyun's movements and sounds. She could ignore the other instruments entirely.
'We just have to follow the piano.'
His words from the day before seemed to land perfectly now, one after another. Each exchange between orchestra and piano felt like a directive being passed along.
A bit more intensely here, smear the rhythm slightly there without breaking the flow...
With the piano conveying meaning through sound instead of tedious verbal instructions, today's rehearsal flowed even smoother than yesterday's.
'Ah!'
Everything had been going perfectly until a fatal horn mistake shattered the calm. It was a common blunder for brass players trying to maintain momentum with short breaths.
The strings were cresting a big swell into a lull, so the stage wasn't noisy. That mistake would ring out crystal clear.
'I want to cover for them, but it's not my part, so I can't jump in...!'
As Kim Ga-eul bit her lip and furrowed her brow in anxiety—
Kwon Do-hyun subtly pulled the tempo ahead, resuming play.
His left hand thickened the bass line, drawing all eyes, while the right hand's main melody whispered so faintly it was barely audible, injecting a touch of leisure and humor.
A perfect pianissimo.
That alone swept the horn's error away like a passing cloud. Off to some distant place no one would notice.
At the same time, a grin split Kwon Do-hyun's face. The sweat droplet sliding down his forehead magnified his upturned lip like a lens.
'...Kwon Do-hyun.'
She'd only ever seen him as an amusing, quirky friend.
He played decently, and unlike those elite types with zero flair, his performances had this weird pull.
Music should always be fun. That was Kim Ga-eul's first principle.
Lessons and classes were dull and boring, so she skipped them often.
Honestly, she didn't care what score she got on this exam. She practiced hard just because matching breaths with her friends was fun. That was it.
She was fine handing the top seat to Lee Hyo-sung, who was always gunning for her.
'But...'
For the first time, she wondered if she'd found someone truly fun—beyond mere curiosity.
Before she knew it, the final climax arrived.
A fiendish technical passage. Octaves poured down like a summer downpour.
Each time his hands slammed the keys, Kwon Do-hyun's head bobbed up slightly. The majestic resonance that swallowed the orchestra was captured just like that, effortlessly.
There wasn't a trace of the clumsiness from early rehearsals, even if you scrubbed your eyes looking.
Just two weeks. Hardly enough time to call it long.
Does this even make sense? Kim Ga-eul let out a small scoff, her fingers pressing firmly on the valves.
He'd asked them to make the piano shine...
What more are we supposed to do? He's handling everything himself.
Soon the piano solo barreled toward its end. The full orchestra held its breath, awaiting his cue.
All spotlights seemed to converge on the piano at the center of the fan-shaped array.
'Now.'
The instant Kwon Do-hyun punctuated the solo, every instrument bloomed into a grand melody together.
The performance was nearly over. Violins gripped their strings, vibrating them side to side to cap the finale.
'One more?'
That was when Kwon Do-hyun unleashed a rapid trill on two keys, signaling an encore to everyone. His head still parallel to the keyboard.
'Like a da capo? Fun, let's give it to him.'
A smile crept onto Kim Ga-eul's lips too. She blasted a hearty breath, unleashing a mighty high note.
The fire hadn't gone out yet. A sudden rekindling. Faint confused murmurs rose from the audience, but she ignored them, producing an even bigger sound.
The timpani responded first, hammering taut rolls to sustain the tension.
The rest of the orchestra caught on, repeating the climax in unison, embellishing the reprise gorgeously.
Hands holding instruments and bows slowly lowered here and there.
"It's over."
The lingering echoes, not yet faded, bounced off the walls and vanished.
A profound silence blanketed the hall, serene enough to feel peaceful.
The brass caught the ceiling lights in gleaming rows, the only other sound a steady rhythm of catching breath.
Kim Ga-eul exhaled her held breath with relief, grinning as she thought.
"...I wanna stay number one and play with Do-hyun again."
"What?"
The thought slipped out loud.
Lee Hyo-sung, right beside her, scowled and spat the word in disgust.
The exams for the two preliminary pieces were done. Only the Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto judging remained.
Ignoring the buzz of chatter around him, Han Yong-seong flipped rapidly through the student roster, furrowing his brow.
'Today's been fruitful.'
Beyond checking Baek Ji-ho and Lee Ha-yeon's skills, he'd etched the name Seol Yu-jin into memory—an unexpected bonus.
Pianists really needed that strong personality to be worth listening to. Easier to teach when you just trimmed the excess rather than conjuring something from nothing.
"No, even if the concerto score is low, there were hardly any technical slips..."
"Even factoring in technique, I can't give Seo Ye-ri more than 60."
"But Seong-hyuk gave 71..."
Choi Je-hun and Kwon Se-hee bantered beside him about the last Piano Department student's score.
Han Yong-seong couldn't intervene in grading. He sat quietly, fixated on waiting for the mystery student Choi Je-hun had mentioned yesterday.
"We'll call Tchaikovsky players soon. Get ready."
'Finally.'
Han Yong-seong straightened up, fully prepared.
Piano Department students took the stage in order, pouring their all into the performance. But the tension gripping him began to melt away.
'Not this one, not that one...'
Tiny X marks multiplied beside the listed names. Staring at the sea of wrongs, Han Yong-seong sighed shallowly and turned away.
'Was it just a joke?'
Choi Je-hun was jotting brief notes, evaluating with serious poise.
Doubt settled on Han Yong-seong's face.
'This guy's not the type for idle pranks.'
He tilted his head, question mark lingering in his chest.
Moments later, the next orchestra group lumbered onstage, filling it out.
First pianist: Kwon Do-hyun. An unfamiliar name.
'His eyes have spark.'
His aura brimmed with how precious he found this moment on stage.
'Makes me expect a little.'
Even if not the student Choi Je-hun mentioned, anyone who played music purely for joy always impressed.
Han Yong-seong settled comfortably into his seat.
"Do-hyun, fighting—!"
As the performance loomed, a clear cheer rang from the back of the audience.
A girlfriend cheering that loud on exam day? Lucky guy. Han Yong-seong chuckled softly, propping his chin on his hand.
'Let's hear it.'
Dozens of seconds passed.
Kwon Do-hyun kept his eyes glued to the piano, showing no sign of starting. The orchestra too.
"You may begin."
Unable to stand the delay, he raised his voice. Only then did the orchestra exchange signals and count off the downbeat.
Kwon Do-hyun's fingers soon dropped to the keys.
Hammers struck strings through the action. Bright, varied tones like fluffy flower clouds filled the hall.
That single melody line dilated the pupils of Han Yong-seong, chin still propped.
'This is the one.'
You could tell just from how he produced sound. He was leagues beyond the students who'd bored his ears for the last half hour.
A traditional interpretation, but with extra speed. Proof of rigorous study on leading a chamber orchestra.
In seconds, the entire audience was captivated.
"...Teacher Choi."
Han Yong-seong nudged Choi Je-hun's arm softly. Choi just quirked his lips wordlessly.
'Mozart sonatas were a struggle not long ago?'
Absurd. Even if not a lie, it had to be exaggerated.
Especially striking was the pacing control. Gentle when strings and woodwinds whispered in, fierce when waves surged—masterful leadership.
And that unity.
It felt like piano chains bound every instrument in the spread-out orchestra.
'Solo technique goes without saying. But that's not the point.'
Plenty of pianists handled the instrument superbly.
Han Yong-seong always sought more.
A clear differentiator from others, no need to prove it. That was the essence of a pianist, a musician.
'And Kwon Do-hyun has it.'
Assume Choi Je-hun's account was true.
An unbelievable explosion of skill? Possible. He'd seen prodigies shine early before.
The issue was what followed.
Playing an instrument wasn't everything. Music never forgave that naive misconception.
You forged it through failure, despair, tears, and the pain of carving out your own flesh.
Han Yong-seong couldn't hide his shock that Kwon Do-hyun bore the weight of that "experience."
'How is that even possible?'
The chilling thought pierced his mind just then.
"This orchestra isn't that strong."
"You felt it too, Teacher Kyung-min? Perfect among the Tchaikovsky groups."
"...What's the name of that piano student?"
Not his imagination. The orchestra shone too, not just the piano.
Having performed this piece many times, Han Yong-seong had the benchmarks.
'And it's not even an elite lineup...'
As he watched Kwon Do-hyun with awe-tinged suspicion, a faintly unstable brass note grazed his ear.
Puzzled, replaying the bar mentally, Han Yong-seong let out a scoff.
'Look at this— even the flair.'
Kwon Do-hyun had added a subtle embellishment beyond the score, exuding ease. He had to nod.
The finale unfolded soon after.
Buoyed by the piano's relentless gallop, the orchestra delivered a flawless close.
"...Huh?"
"Shouldn't they end it?"
No chance to relax. As if reluctant to stop, Kwon Do-hyun fired off a quick trill, pulling a bold move.
'Demanding something.'
Defying expectations, the orchestra flowed into it seamlessly, like scripted.
Possible only because it was a student group—relaxed, delightful repeat. A faint smile bloomed on Han Yong-seong's lips.
The performance fully ended. Relieved sighs rippled around.
"Eh, chalk it up to charm?"
"Performance is a factor too..."
"Was that planned? Their chemistry's solid."
Scattered applause filled the hall. Kwon Do-hyun stood with eyes closed, head bowed, panting hard. When an orchestra member called his name, he finally snapped to and rose for bows.
"Kwon Do-hyun."
The three syllables rolled in Choi Je-hun's mouth.
Han Yong-seong stroked his cheek slowly, lost in thought, watching the boy exit.
The deliberation didn't last long. He leaned close to Choi Je-hun.
"Teacher Choi Je-hun."
"Yes."
"When do those private lessons start?"