No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Episode 31. Winter Wind (2)

“What are you doing?”
Kim Bom nudged Choo Minji’s arm.

“…Huh?”
Choo Minji snapped out of it and realized everyone in the park was staring at her.

Even Jung Seojoon, who had finished his performance a while ago, was looking at her with a calm expression.

“Ah!”
Choo Minji jumped up from her seat in a hurry. She stepped forward, plastering a smile on her face.

“Amazing! Our Baekjung is so good, isn’t he?”

“Yes!”

The audience responded enthusiastically. By now, there were more curious passersby than regular subscribers.

Most of them weren’t particularly interested in classical music, but instead of looking bored, they seemed eager to hear another piece.

“Well…”
Choo Minji opened her mouth to say what she had prepared but quickly closed it again.

‘Wow… No way I can say it like this…’

For the first time, she was facing her subscribers in person.

She didn’t want to ruin the lively atmosphere created by Jung Seojoon’s extraordinary performance.

She decided to wrap up the concert cleanly for now.

“Unfortunately, we’ve played all the pieces we prepared…”
Choo Minji waved one hand with a regretful expression, hinting at an encore.

Seeing this, the audience clapped and began chanting for an encore.

“Encore! Encore! Encore!”

Though Choo Minji had intended this, she still looked flustered.

“This isn’t good. We really don’t have anything prepa— Hey! What are you doing?”

She shouted at Jung Seojoon, who was getting up from his seat to pack up the cables connected to the piano.

Choo Minji rushed over and slapped his arm.

“Read the room a little!”

“You said we were done.”

“Plug it back in and sit down!”

“Good grief…”

Jung Seojoon frowned slightly but returned to his seat.

Choo Minji turned back to the audience with a bright smile.

The audience seemed to interpret Jung Seojoon’s actions as a joke and laughed along.

“Our Baekjung must have been trying to run away because he didn’t prepare an encore. Then, how about we pick the next piece together?”

She introduced an event she had planned in advance.

“I have a feeling there are a lot of piano majors here today, right?”

“Yes~”

“Could you raise your hands if you are?”

Quite a few people raised their hands.

Since the venue was not far from the Seoul Arts Center, many classical music professionals had come after hearing the news.

“Now, among those, who has sheet music they’ve been practicing recently?”

About half of them lowered their hands.

“From those left, who thinks they have a piece that is insanely difficult?”

Many more hands went down, leaving just eight people.

Choo Minji addressed them.

“Could I borrow your sheet music for a moment?”

The audience readily agreed, and Choo Minji collected sheet music from each of them before returning to the stage.

She quickly scanned through the eight scores.

“You all actually play these, right?”

She exaggeratedly shook her head, eliciting laughter from the audience.

Then, holding up the eight scores, she addressed the crowd again.

“These composers were definitely out to torture their successors.”

Laughter rippled through the audience, and Choo Minji continued.

“Before we start the next performance, can I brag a bit about our Baekjung?”

“Yes~”

“Does anyone here know what Baekjung’s childhood nickname was?”

A hand went up, and Choo Minji pointed to the person.

“Yes, you, the pretty lady!”

“Little Giant?”

“Yes, that’s right. Any others?”

“The Reincarnation of Paganini!”

“Wow~ True fan!”

Most of the audience, unfamiliar with Jung Seojoon’s past, nodded along as if it made sense.

Giving a thumbs-up to the person who answered, Choo Minji continued.

“Paganini was a musician said to have sold his soul to the devil for his talent. Given that nickname, it’s clear our Baekjung has some incredible skills. One of those is his phenomenal sight-reading ability.”

With a serious expression, Choo Minji held up the eight pieces of sheet music.

“One of you will come up, pick a piece from these, and Baekjung will perform it as a sight-reading. So, who will…”

Before she could finish her sentence, a thunderous voice rang out.

“Me! Me!”

It was as if a scream from a live music show audience had erupted.

“Me!!”

Startled, Choo Minji turned to locate the source.

It wasn’t difficult. Everyone nearby was looking at the person, especially because of what she was holding.

“Is that… a cannon?”

“It’s a camera!”

“I know!”

Choo Minji gestured with both hands toward the audience between her and the source, asking them to move aside.

The crowd parted, revealing a woman standing on a mini-ladder with a professional air about her.

Choo Minji clicked her tongue.

‘What’s with that pro aura?’

She hurried over, grabbed the woman’s hand, and brought her to the stage.

“Hello, Ma’am!”

“Um… Hello…”

The woman, who had shouted so boldly, now looked shy.

Choo Minji hid her surprise and conducted a short interview.

The woman introduced herself as Kang Mera, 30 years old. She wasn’t a subscriber but had happened to walk by and stop to watch.

“Well, Mera, could you pick one of these for us?”

Choo Minji spread out the eight pieces of sheet music.

Kang Mera hesitated as she scanned the difficult-to-read titles, wondering which would be best for the YouTuber and pianist.

One piece caught her eye for two reasons:

First, it was by a composer even a classical music novice like her recognized—Chopin.

Second, it was the piece three people next to her had been grumbling about earlier, complaining about its difficulty.

“I’ll pick… this one.”

“Oh! Chopin’s Étude Op. 25, No. 11! Known as Winter Wind!”

Choo Minji’s words caused a stir in the audience.

The audience murmured that the piece Kang Mera had chosen was absurdly difficult, perhaps impossible to sight-read. Some even speculated that no pianist, not even one as skilled as Baekjung, could have avoided playing it at least once before. However, those who knew Jung Seojoon’s background quickly clarified: he hadn’t been formally studying piano for very long.

Choo Minji turned to him, waving the sheet music with a grin.

“Have you played this piece before?”

Seojoon shook his head.

Choo Minji’s smile widened as she gave Kang Mera a thumbs-up.

“You made an excellent choice!”

“Ah… th-thank you…” Kang Mera stammered.

Passing the sheet music to Seojoon, Choo Minji asked, “How long do you need?”

“Five minutes.”

The audience broke into laughter, dismissing it as a joke. Some shook their heads incredulously.

Seojoon ignored the murmurs and flipped open the first page of the score. His brow furrowed slightly as he plugged in his earphones and focused intently.

“Alright, everyone!” Choo Minji raised both arms high, drawing the crowd’s attention back to her and away from Seojoon. She wanted to give him time while keeping the audience entertained.

“As a thank-you to Mera, who picked the piece, I’ll be giving her a gift worth one million won!”

“Wow…”

“Amazing…”

Choo Minji quickly grabbed the folding chair she’d been sitting on and placed it near the front of the audience, closest to Seojoon.

“This is the VVIP seat, where you can admire Baekjung up close!” she said with a wink, eliciting laughter.

Kang Mera, clearly pleased, settled into the chair.

“Can I… take pictures?” she asked hesitantly.

“Oh, of course! Take as many as you like!”

“Thank you…”

Kang Mera began adjusting her camera lens, her gaze fixed on Seojoon. He was still intensely focused on the sheet music, his handsome face growing more serious by the second.

As his furrowed brow deepened, Kang Mera grew nervous.

‘Did I choose something too difficult?’

Behind her, the audience chatted and laughed at Choo Minji’s jokes. Many were convinced that sight-reading Winter Wind was utterly impossible. They mentioned how it was often used as an entrance exam piece at schools for musical prodigies and required months—if not years—of relentless practice.

Kang Mera’s anxiety grew.

‘What kind of piece is Winter Wind, anyway…?’

She discreetly pulled out her phone and searched for it.

Its full title: Chopin Étude Op. 25, No. 11 in A minor.

Its nickname: Winter Wind.

Piano students jokingly called it Winter Cancer, implying it was so difficult it could give you a disease.

The technical demands were staggering:

The right hand had to navigate lightning-fast arpeggios, transitioning fluidly between black and white keys with precision.

The left hand was responsible for carrying the melody, requiring perfect control over dynamics to balance the stormy accompaniment.

Pedaling had to be flawless to showcase not only skill but also musical depth.

Kang Mera frowned. ‘I don’t even know what half of this means…’

But one thing was clear: it was a brutally difficult piece.

She bit her lip nervously. ‘Should I just run away…?’

The thought was fleeting.

Seojoon closed the sheet music and gave a decisive nod.

“Let’s begin.”

“Ohhh~”

The audience applauded enthusiastically.

“Seriously? Already?” Choo Minji asked, wide-eyed.

“Yes,” Seojoon replied firmly.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Choo Minji stepped offstage.

Seojoon exhaled deeply and placed his hands on the piano keys. The park lights narrowed, focusing solely on him and the piano, leaving everything else in shadow.

Kang Mera gulped.

She was so close she could touch him if she reached out. His striking looks, accentuated by the spotlight, were almost unreal.

‘No hair or makeup, yet he looks like this? What if he got professional styling?’

She couldn’t help but imagine him as a polished idol or actor. With those visuals, talent wouldn’t even matter.

But her idle musings dissolved the moment the first note played.

[Thn—]

A slow, deliberate introduction filled the air.

[Thn— Thn-thn-thn— Thn-thn—]

The melody began soft and contemplative, pulling everyone into its serene beauty.

Kang Mera’s tension eased slightly.

‘Phew, doesn’t seem that hard after all…’

But before the thought could settle, the melody abruptly stopped.

A split second of silence.

And then—

A storm erupted from the keys.

[!!]

Seojoon’s right hand darted across the keys with astonishing speed, shattering the calm. High notes cascaded downward in rapid arpeggios, his fingers blurring as they danced between black and white keys with surgical precision.

The left hand carried the melody, repeating the earlier theme with an entirely different intensity. Each strike of the keys reverberated with force, as though they might break under his touch.

The sheer power of his jumps across wide intervals added a richness to the sound, sending shockwaves through the park. 

The audience was overwhelmed as the powerful notes [Dang- Dadadang- Dang- Dadang!] reverberated through the air.

“Wow… this is insane…”
“He’s unbelievable…”

Among the crowd were both classical music enthusiasts and people experiencing a live piano performance for the first time. Though their individual thoughts varied, their feelings were remarkably similar: astonishment and awe.

Buried in the flurry of sound, everyone was struck silent.

“So this is Winter Wind…”
“What I’ve heard before was just a gentle breeze…”

Despite the chilly winter air in the open space of the park, the audience, huddled together to listen, had not felt the cold. But as Jung Seojoon’s Winter Wind stormed through their ears, the atmosphere shifted.

No amount of shared body heat or pulled collars could stave off the goosebumps crawling across their skin.

‘Ah… Ahhh…’

Sitting directly in front of Seojoon, Kang Mera was in a daze. Her jaw hung open, her eyes misty. She was utterly captivated by the whirlwind of sound created by those ten slender fingers, the veins on his hands standing out like cables.

‘Ah, photos…’

Fortunately, her instincts as a photographer kicked in. With the determination of a mountaineer braving a blizzard, she slowly raised her camera. Fixated on capturing this masterpiece, she peered through the viewfinder.

And that’s when she realized.

If the performance had been a Winter Wind until now, it had now escalated into a full-blown storm.

‘This is insane…’

Through the viewfinder, Seojoon no longer looked like a mere pianist. His graceful yet powerful movements mirrored the choreography of a lead idol dancer, while the intricate melodies and dazzling techniques evoked the artistry of a gifted vocalist.

His looks were an undeniable bonus.

‘I swore I’d never become a fan of anyone again…’

The biting, sharp gusts of his Winter Wind didn’t warm her frozen heart but shattered it into pieces. In its place, something new took root—an appreciation for a genre she had never considered: classical music.

Jung Seojoon’s music.

****

“Cheers!”

In a fried chicken restaurant near the park, the ChooChoo TV team gathered for an after-party.

“You were amazing today, Seojoon!”
“Seriously the best! That Winter Wind will haunt my dreams!”
“Same here, same here!”
“I still can’t get over how, after people didn’t believe it was sight-reading, you played another piece on the spot! Their faces were priceless!”

Amid the lively chatter, the cameraman suddenly stood up, yelling, “No way!”

Everyone turned to look at him, startled.

“What’s going on, senior?” one of the team members asked.

The cameraman, staring at his phone, waved it excitedly.

“Seojoon, do you remember the woman who chose the sheet music for Winter Wind?”

“Oh, yes.”

Of course, he remembered. She had been taking photos up close the entire performance, making it impossible to ignore her.

“Check this out!” The cameraman showed his phone to the group.

On the screen was a picture of Seojoon playing the piano, his head tilted back with his eyes closed.

“Ha…” Seojoon exhaled awkwardly.

‘I posed like that?’ It was embarrassing to look at.

“Wow… that’s insane…”

The others’ reactions were nearly identical. They compared the shot to a professional magazine spread, marveling at its quality.

“She’s apparently a famous photographer in the idol scene!” the cameraman added. “She posted this on her personal SNS, and the comment section is exploding!”

Photographer? Idol scene? Seojoon wondered but didn’t ask further.

“Whoa!” another team member exclaimed after fiddling with their phone. “Our last video’s comment section is blowing up too! People heard about today’s performance and are asking when we’ll upload it!”

“Our subscriber count is shooting up!”
“This is crazy!”

The atmosphere grew even more excited as the team basked in the success of their event.

But one person remained subdued: Choo Minji.

She had barely spoken since they arrived, only occasionally whispering to Baek Junsoo, who sat beside her.

“Tch.”

Even Seojoon, not the most empathetic person, couldn’t ignore her unusual silence. Deciding to address it, he approached her.

“Noona, is something wrong?”

Minji, her face flushed from drinking, looked up at him with a weary expression.

“Are you drunk? Maybe you should head home…” Seojoon began.

“Gangster,” she muttered, cutting him off.

“What?”

“This is my last shoot.”

“…What?”

“I’m quitting YouTube. Sorry.”