Otaku Translation: My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player C183

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Chapter 183: Passion – Made Tangible

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The two of them dove back into rehearsing . Lin Tian had insisted on this piece for the semifinals, citing its perfect fit for his current playing style. But when Gan Yanyu learned that Lin Tian wanted to use it, she was surprised.

Out of all the pieces Lin Tian had composed for her, Greeting of Love remained the one they had never fully mastered—not even close. Other compositions could be polished with enough practice, but no matter how well they played this particular piece, Lin Tian always felt something was missing. It wasn’t good enough; it was merely “passable.” The emotions weren’t there.

The reason was simple. This wasn’t just any piece—it was a love letter in musical form.

In 1888, wrote Greeting of Love as a response to a poem his fiancée, , had sent him during his travels. Elgar, aboard a train en route to visit Dr. Charles Buck, read Alice’s heartfelt words and was overcome with joy. Inspired by her literary gift, he penned this timeless melody—a testament to their love.

When Greeting of Love premiered at over a year later, it left audiences swooning. Even now, more than a century afterward, listeners can still feel the palpable emotion behind it: the excitement of a newly engaged man, sitting on a rattling train, clutching his beloved’s letter to his chest as the scenery rushed past. For Elgar, love wasn’t an abstract concept—it became tangible in that moment, immortalized through music.

But how could Gan Yanyu possibly recreate such raw emotion? She didn’t know. No matter how many interpretations she tried, something always felt off. Without truly understanding the sentiment, how could she convey it?

Meanwhile…

Lin Tian stretched lazily, utterly exhilarated. Damn, why hadn’t he realized sooner how thrilling it was to infuse piano melodies with personal feelings? Forget subtleties—his entire performance had been nothing but pure expression. Every note radiated joy.

Since discovering this newfound freedom in his playing, Lin Tian had entered uncharted territory. Before, he’d merely followed Gan Yanyu, adapting to her style and supporting her. Now, he was finally experiencing music on his own terms. Each composition took on new life, brimming with excitement. Music, he thought, truly was the greatest art form humanity had ever created.

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Watching Lin Tian play with such ease, Gan Yanyu couldn’t help but feel envious—or perhaps it was admiration.

“How do you do it?” she asked.

“You mean finding the right emotion for this piece?”

“Yes.”

To Gan Yanyu, Lin Tian seemed so ordinary—same age, same high school life, probably no romantic experience to speak of. So why did he nail these emotions so effortlessly?

“Did you substitute another feeling instead?” she ventured.

Like before, when Lin Tian reinterpreted Symphony in G Minor: “Pathétique” using a fresh perspective. While not flawless, it worked brilliantly. Such substitutions were common in performances.

“Well…” Lin Tian hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

In truth, what he envisioned for Greeting of Love was far from subtle. Ideally, Gan Yanyu would imagine herself in love—with him—and channel those feelings into her performance. That, he believed, was the key.

But given her immersive style, which shut out external influences entirely, this approach might not work.

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As the two discussed Greeting of Love, Nanali sat perched on the counter, chin resting in her hands. Her hair, usually tied up, cascaded loosely around her shoulders, adorned only by a red Lolita hair accessory. Lost in thought, she stared blankly at them.

“Liliya,” Lin Tian suddenly called out.

“It’s Nanali!” she snapped irritably, though too tired to argue further. “What?”

“What do you think?”

“What do I think about what?”

“You’re supposed to be here practicing with us, aren’t you?”

Lin Tian chuckled, then changed tack. “Do you think this piece suits our semifinal performance?”

Nanali narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you asking your competitor for advice? If I say ‘yes,’ maybe I’m trying to trick you into picking a bad piece. And if I say ‘no,’ maybe I’m afraid you’ll beat me with it.”

“I know,” Lin Tian replied. “That’s why I plan to interpret your answer oppositely.”

Nanali cursed under her breath.

Turning to Gan Yanyu, who had been animatedly discussing the piece moments ago, Nanali lowered her gaze. After a pause, she murmured softly:

“Gan Yanyu… do you really love music?”

“Huh?”

“I said, do you really love music?”

“What kind of question is that?” Gan Yanyu blinked, slightly taken aback. “If I didn’t, how could I have come this far?”

“True.”

Obsessing over every detail, delving into the story behind each piece, experimenting endlessly to refine her technique—this, in Nanali’s eyes, was the embodiment of passion. Who else but someone deeply devoted to music could endure such dedication?

“That’s nice,” Nanali whispered faintly, her lips curling into a barely noticeable bitter smile.

Reaching the semifinals of hadn’t been easy. Did it stem from love or mere obligation? At this point, pondering such questions felt meaningless.

“All right,” Nanali declared, standing abruptly. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed her golden hair over her shoulder. “Practice ends here. The esteemed has places to be.”

Before Gan Yanyu could offer a polite farewell, Nanali spun around at the door and pointed dramatically at her rival.

“Gan Yanyu, this is a battle to the death.”

“In two days, during the semifinals, I will defeat you. Absolutely.”

“This is for your passion—and for mine…”

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