Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C66

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Chapter 66: Gan Yanyu Can’t Play This Piece

What emotions lie hidden within this symphony, composed by Mozart in 1788?

Let’s put it this way.

When Lin Tian listened to this piece, an image involuntarily sprang to mind: Kana Momonogi and her insufferable boss on a work trip, caught in an unexpected downpour, forced to take shelter together. The sense of urgency, tension, heart-wrenching anxiety, yet irresistible anticipation for what might happen next—it all came rushing through like a storm.

But let’s be serious here.

Behind Symphony No. 40, there is a story that breaks the heart.

At the time, Mozart’s wife lay bedridden with illness, unable to afford medicine. His children were starving, their cupboards bare of even bread. Before he wrote any notes on paper, Mozart penned desperate letters begging for loans. In one such letter to his wealthy merchant friend Puchberg, he wrote, “I trust you as my true friend, and because you know me as an honest man, I confide in you my struggles and ask for your help.”

And what did his friend do? He gave him only a pittance.

It was under these dire circumstances—this mix of despair and anger—that Mozart composed the final three symphonies of his life.

Symphony No. 40 in G Minor was among them.

In truth, no adaptation or reinterpretation has ever fully captured the raw emotion embedded in this masterpiece.

What it holds is Mozart’s bittersweet smile—a tearful joy amidst unimaginable hardship. Through its strains, one can almost hear Mozart’s breathing, feel the profound solitude of his soul, akin to the ancient poet who lamented, "Heaven and earth endure forever, but I alone am left to weep."

With deep reverence for this great composer, Lin Tian transcribed the piece.

Perhaps it was Gan Yanyu’s influence—the old-school classical enthusiast—that inspired him. In the past, Lin Tian had simply copied music without much thought. What harm could it do? But now, as he wrote out these compositions, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss and shame knowing the tragic lives behind each note, lives he hadn’t lived himself.

As Gao Zhenyang once said:

“To experience, to resonate.”

All Lin Tian could do was ensure these composers’ works shone brightly in this world. Together with Gan Yanyu, he would strive to convey the true emotions and intentions of the composers to everyone who listened.

Unconsciously, Lin Tian began to grasp the weight—and unparalleled allure—of those few words: “classical music.”

Of course, respect aside, names needed changing.

Otherwise, when people heard Symphony No. 40, they’d ask:

“Where are Symphonies 1 through 39?”

How awkward would that be?

Lin Tian certainly couldn’t release all forty at once. Besides, Symphony No. 40 has four movements. He’d only transcribed the first movement, so renaming it shouldn’t pose a problem.

After some contemplation, Lin Tian settled on a new title:

Symphony in G Minor: “Pathétique.”

This preserved the essence of the original while showing due respect to Mozart.

Satisfied, Lin Tian gave the score a final glance.

Now, all that remained was waiting for Gan Yanyu to arrive tomorrow.

Exhausted from the day’s events—playing at the conservatory in the morning, Gan Yanyu falling ill in the afternoon (though thankfully not seriously), napping at her place, waking up to find everything fine—Lin Tian took a shower and collapsed into bed. Despite everything, he found himself most excited about Wednesday’s concert.

---

The next day.

Promptly at noon, the doorbell rang.

Lin Tian opened the door and froze.

“Who are you, beautiful lady?”

“Ah…”

Gan Yanyu touched the braided pigtails resting on her shoulders. “Does it look strange?”

Her appearance today was startling. A stark contrast to her usual self.

Normally, she carried an air of quiet elegance, her long black hair flowing freely. Today, however, her hair was tied into twin braids, and she wore a fresh, floral sundress paired with an unbuttoned white cardigan. The overall effect was artsy yet neighborly, like a cute girl who spends weekends painting in the park.

Gan Yanyu: Autumn Limited Edition Free Version

“If we’re talking strange…” Lin Tian stroked his chin, then placed a hand atop Gan Yanyu’s head. She was shorter than him, her round face giving off a childlike vibe.

Lin Tian felt like he was patting a kid.

“Wouldn’t a hair clip suit this style better?” he asked.

“I agree, but I don’t have anything that fits,” Gan Yanyu replied, her cheeks flushing slightly. Sensing the conversation heading toward awkward territory, she quickly stepped inside.

As soon as she entered, her eyes landed on the sheet music sitting on the table.

“This is the new piece?”

Her voice brimmed with excitement as she rushed over and picked up the score.

Just then, Lin Tian’s phone rang. After finishing the call, he turned to Gan Yanyu. “The instruments from the shop have arrived. I’ll go downstairs to pick them up. Wait here.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“…”

“Symphony in G Minor: ‘Pathétique’?”

Gan Yanyu murmured the title softly. Then, settling onto the couch, she began humming the melody.

But soon, her voice trailed off.

Her heartbeat quickened.

Her pupils dilated.

Glancing at the nearby cello, she reached for it instinctively.

By the time Lin Tian returned home with the newly delivered instruments, Gan Yanyu had already begun playing.

She sat on the couch, bow gliding across the strings. Her braids swung gently against her shoulders, her usually composed face now alight with fervor and intensity—as if she were engaged in some mentally exhausting endeavor.

Yet after just a short passage, she stopped abruptly, gasping for breath.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Tian closed the door and approached her, sensing something amiss.

“Lin Tian… this piece you’ve written—it’s incredible. Too incredible. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

“What do you mean?”

Lin Tian didn’t understand. He sat down beside her on the couch.

“As soon as I started playing, I felt… whispers. Urgent, mournful cries echoing in my ears, speaking to me.”

“It made it hard to breathe.”

Gan Yanyu stared deeply into Lin Tian’s eyes, sorrow flickering in her own.

For Gan Yanyu, immersion was key to her performances, especially with unfamiliar pieces. She always listened intently to the voices within the music.

But this time, the voices filled her chest with restless tension. They enraptured her with the music’s exquisite beauty—but also overwhelmed her, making it impossible to continue.

“Lin Tian, how did you write something like this?”

She couldn’t resist asking. She wanted to know the state of mind that had birthed such a creation.

Lin Tian knew better than to brush her off with vague answers.

“Inspiration from a dream,” he said earnestly.

“A dream…”

Gan Yanyu nodded, understanding. She didn’t want to believe Lin Tian’s spirit had descended into such depths of bitterness and loneliness. If that were true, she feared she might lose herself entirely.

To think Lin Tian had crafted this masterpiece from a dream—it seemed destiny favored him indeed.

“Lin Tian… was this perhaps a piece entrusted to you by some lonely musician in your dreams?”

Her voice carried a hint of exhaustion.

“This piece… I may not be able to play it.”

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