Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C89

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Chapter 89: The Mysterious Blonde Girl

As the final group of performers stepped off the stage, the concert hall buzzed with an electric energy that refused to fade. The audience lingered in their seats, reluctant to leave, still reeling from what they had just witnessed.

For many, the performance was nothing short of extraordinary—a crescendo of emotion and skill that left hearts pounding long after the last note had faded. As people began to rise and shuffle toward the exits, conversations erupted like fireworks, each person eager to relive the magic.

"Holy crap, that last set? Unreal. Hands down the most mind-blowing thing I’ve ever seen," one young man exclaimed, his voice tinged with awe.

"I couldn’t even breathe during the finale—it was that intense," another chimed in, shaking his head as if trying to process it all.

"Seriously though," a third interjected, "before today, I thought maybe these guys were Moonlight and Cat themselves. But no way. That symphony those two musicians played? It made Moonlight and Cat’s version sound like child’s play."

"Not so fast," someone countered. "Live performances always hit harder than recordings. Doesn’t that just prove how incredible Moonlight and Cat’s music really is?"

The crowd was a mix of seasoned classical music enthusiasts and newcomers, many of whom had come hoping to hear Moonlight and Cat’s compositions performed live for the first time. And yet, by the end of the evening, something unexpected had happened.

Other musicians on the program had delivered masterful renditions of timeless classics—pieces often regarded as the epitome of sophistication and refinement. But when stacked against Moonlight and Cat’s work, those preconceived notions began to crumble. To the surprise of many, the duo’s music didn’t pale in comparison—it soared above it.

This revelation left more than a few attendees feeling conflicted. For years, TikTok algorithms and social media trends had painted Moonlight and Cat as creators of catchy but ultimately shallow “internet hits.” Their melodies were undeniably infectious, yes, but surely not on par with the towering giants of classical music… or so everyone had assumed.

But tonight, under the same roof, in the same hallowed space, that assumption dissolved. Hearing Moonlight and Cat’s music live felt like discovering a hidden depth beneath a familiar surface. It was like tasting craft beer poured into a proper glass instead of sipping it straight from the bottle—the difference was undeniable.

Of course, much of this newfound appreciation stemmed from the performers themselves. As the audience dispersed, a university student proudly pounded his chest and declared, "From this day forward, I’m Gan Yanyu’s decade-long fan!"

"Count me in!" shouted another.

"Me too!"

Voices rang out across the aisle, a chorus of admiration for the cellist who had stolen their hearts. Beautiful, talented, and effortlessly charismatic, she was every bit the dream girl material.

"That accompanist, though—he’s the real MVP," argued a dissenting voice. "When he first walked onstage, he looked half-dead. Those dark circles? I could see them from row three. Thought he might keel over mid-performance."

"But then he started playing," the speaker continued, his tone shifting to reverence. "Man, oh man. Ever read those martial arts novels where some scruffy old drunk turns out to be a legendary master? That’s him. Artists are supposed to look like that."

His words ignited a lively debate among his friends, whose imaginations ran wild. "Right?! His name’s Lin Tian, isn’t it? Classic male lead vibes right there."

"Yeah, but honestly, his piano skills match Gan Yanyu’s cello. No contest."

"No way! The cello obviously carried the piece."

"You’re both wrong," a quieter voice cut in. "Neither could have pulled it off without the other. They elevated the entire composition together."

Just then, a melodic feminine voice joined the fray. "That accompanist must have only recently met Gan Yanyu. Yet in such a short time, they’ve developed remarkable chemistry. Fascinating."

Heads turned toward the source of the comment. A few rows away sat a blonde girl clad in an elegant white chiffon dress. Her wide-brimmed hat obscured her features, its delicate edges resembling blooming petals. She spoke with a faint smile, her words laced with intrigue.

"And who asked you?" snapped one of the boys, irritated at the interruption. He hated when girls inserted themselves into "guy talk."

Unfazed, the girl rose gracefully from her seat. When she lifted her head, revealing a face so exquisitely beautiful it bordered on surreal, the boys fell silent. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a magnetic pull, ensnaring every gaze.

"What’s your nationality?" stammered the same boy, swallowing hard.

She offered no reply, merely smiled softly before retrieving a large case from the adjacent seat. Sliding a cello onto her back, she strode away with poised elegance. Under her breath, barely audible, she murmured:

"Gan Yanyu. After our brief parting in Manchester, I never expected you’d grow this much in just two months. And that boy—is he your new partner? How intriguing."

---

Meanwhile, Lin Tian woke up groggily at eleven o’clock Thursday night. Twenty-plus hours of uninterrupted sleep later, he felt refreshed in a way he hadn’t in ages. Between finishing major projects and skipping classes from Tuesday through Friday, he’d earned this indulgence.

Checking his phone, he found a message from Gan Yanyu: "Call me when you wake up."

It was a comforting reminder that someone cared. Smiling faintly, he replied: "Awake."

Stretching lazily, Lin Tian reflected on the whirlwind week behind him. With all his responsibilities wrapped up, he finally had time to relax—and what better way than indulging in a cozy movie night? Excitedly, he fired up his laptop, ready to dive into something artistic.

But before he could settle in, a knock sounded at the door.

Opening it revealed Gan Yanyu herself, standing casually in her school uniform. "Long time no see, Lin Tian."

"Twenty-four hours doesn’t count as ‘long,’" Lin Tian teased. "What brings you here so late?"

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I went to the hospital today and got my health certificate sorted out. Starting tomorrow, I’ll be back at school."

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