Pianist's Village

Three days later, at a department store in Gwanak-gu.

There, led by Kim Ji-ye, Soo-hyun was dragged from one place to another to buy furniture, electronics, sheets, and blankets for the house he had rented.

Luckily, Kim Ji-ye was very good at making plans, organizing them, and putting them into practice. If she hadn't come prepared with a shopping list, he would have spent the entire day buying other things that occurred to him along the way.

'Does a pretty-colored sheet help you sleep better?' 'Does food taste better if the design and color of the plate are nice?' 'If a product only has good functionality, why worry about the design?' 'And why does good functionality imply bad design?'

Kim Ji-ye's shopping was incomprehensible to Soo-hyun, except for the furniture he could sit or lie on. But Soo-hyun didn't realize this was thanks to Ji-ye's efficiency; other people would have taken much longer.

"Sister…"

"Oh, let's look at this. It would look pretty if I put it on the microwave, right?"

The white lace doily in Ji-ye's hand. Soo-hyun truly didn't understand why something like that cost tens of thousands of won, nor why people bought it.

Soo-hyun nodded curtly with a tired expression.

"That's fine. Can I just go to the bookstore over there?"

'What? Am I going to use all this? Well, Sister, I'm the one who's going to use it, so why are you asking me to choose based on your taste? I said I can use whatever. Why should I decorate the microwave? Is it cold?'

"You can just decide for me."

'It's obvious she'll try to convince me to buy what she wants anyway. It would be better to just let her buy what she wants.'

Ji-ye turned her head toward the bookstore. After thinking for a moment, she took a card out of her wallet and said,

"Alright, I'll buy you the books. This is your card, right? How many do you want to get?"

"About five."

"Really? What kind of books are you going to buy? Not comics, I hope?"

Soo-hyun was a boy who couldn't even remember the last time he had seen a cartoon.

"No, I'm going to buy novels in their original language."

"The original text? You mean novels in English?"

"No, in German. They're over there, right?"

Ji-ye looked at the bookstore again. It was a fairly large bookstore, so they would probably have German books as well.

'He spent seven years in Switzerland, so he's probably more comfortable with German than Korean, but I'm a little worried. Because the place where Soo-hyun has to study is Korea.'

"Alright, let's do this. Buy the five books you want, and buy one more in Korean. How does that sound?"

The reason Soo-hyun wanted to buy books was to give them to the old men. When Soo-hyun realized Ji-ye's condition was for his own good, he smiled shyly and nodded. Ji-ye handed him the card and said,

"First, I'm going to buy a decorative cover for the microwave, then I'll look for a fabric cover for the TV and a mat to put under the glass tabletop. When you're done with the books, meet me in that corner. Don't disappear like last time!"

Soo-hyun smiled bitterly.

'The TV and the dining table must be cold too. It seems they need some kind of cover.'

"Yes, Sister."

After Soo-hyun went to the bookstore and bought books for Franz and Frederick, he bought a book called The Life and Art of the Great Composers for himself. After paying, he looked over at Ji-ye, who was still contemplating the microwave cover.

'If I go over there now, I'll probably get dragged around for a while longer.'

Looking at the book in his hand, he thought of the old men.

'You must be eagerly waiting for me to bring you the books, right?'

Soo-hyun smiled faintly, looked around, and then opened the nearest emergency exit door.

"Hey, can you keep your feet still? You won't stop shaking, and I'm starting to lose my mind. What's wrong?"

Frederick, who had arrived at Franz's house, scolded him for fidgeting restlessly while reading the book Soo-hyun had given him. Franz was either pacing around the sofa like an anxious dog or sitting with his arms crossed, legs trembling.

Franz scowled at his friend's complaint.

"Do you find that book interesting?"

"Well, it's worth reading," Frederick said, holding up the cover of the book he was reading.

"What's the title?"

"The Old Man and the Sea."

"Hmm? Is it a story about an old man in the sea? When you read something like that, you don't feel like finding out what happens next!"

"Why do you say that? It's very interesting. But why do you ask?"

Franz ran to the bed and flopped onto it.

"Ugh! I'm so curious, I'm going crazy!"

Frederick, watching his friend's strange behavior with a blank expression, picked up the book Franz had left beside him and looked at the cover.

"Henry Potter?"

Franz jumped up when he heard the title and said,

"Henry finally got on the train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! He was on a broomstick called a Lambus 2000, and when I saw the scene where a white owl delivered it to him, I almost cried!"

Frederick stared at Franz, who was excited beyond belief.

"And then?"

"The professor with the turban on his head!"

"Oh?"

"He's the culprit! He's the villain! But right at the moment he tries to take off the turban…"

"The moment?"

"The book ended… To be continued in the next volume. That damn writer cut it off right there! Oh, no! I'm dying of curiosity! When is Soo-hyun coming back?"

Frederick burst out laughing at his friend stomping on the floor, then shook his head and turned his attention back to the book. But just at that moment, the door to Franz's house opened, and Soo-hyun's face, whom he had been waiting for so long, appeared.

Frederick greeted him with a bright smile, book in hand.

"Soo-hyun!"

Franz, who was lying on the bed, shot up like a spring and ran to Soo-hyun, examining the book in his hand.

"Hey, Henry Potter! Is that the next volume? You bought the next one, right? Did you?"

As Soo-hyun waved the plastic-sealed book with a big smile, Franz cheered and shouted, "Manse!"

"Hahahahaha! As expected, you're my disciple! Hahahahaha! Henry Potter! Just don't fall in love with Sermione! Readers hate romance!"

Franz was about to run off immediately, not wanting to be interrupted during his reading time, but he thought it wasn't right to leave Soo-hyun like that, so he quietly placed the book on the sofa and hugged Soo-hyun.

"Come visit often."

Warm words. A warm heart. A familiar body temperature. After all, this place was the most comfortable for Soo-hyun.

Frederick, sitting on the sofa, seemed tenderly jealous.

"Hey, I need to talk to Soo-hyun too. Have him sit down. Don't hog him all to yourself."

Soo-hyun, led to the sofa by Franz's hand, told them what had happened. The two men listened to Soo-hyun's words as if it were a fascinating old tale. Soo-hyun's story went on for a long time, like a child coming home from school and chatting with his father about his day.

When he told the part about feeling fear on the subway due to old memories, they both widened their eyes and checked his body to see if anything was wrong. When he said he had followed a stranger to a poor neighborhood, they seemed angry, as if the question "How could you just follow someone when you didn't know where you were?" was about to burst from their lungs.

And the expressions on their faces as Soo-hyun calmly recounted the conversation with Young-hoo, whom he met in Baeksa Village, were like watching a child go out into the world and gradually think about and learn the emotions people feel.

"That man says that music is a comfort to him. I told you last time. He said that when he played a song to comfort people in a hospital in Poland, people hugged their families tightly. I guess music has the power to comfort."

Franz smiled and nodded.

"It is said that the human mind, full of thoughts, is often comforted and revitalized by music when it is in pain and tired."

Frederick also chimed in.

"Immersing your soul in music once or twice a week for several seasons has the same effect on your soul as immersing your body in a bath."

Soo-hyun looked at the two uncles and asked them a question.

"Mr. Young-hoo asked me, 'What does music mean to you?' I've been thinking about it ever since. What kind of heart should I have when making music? Based on my experience, I think I should make music for people, to comfort them. Just as I used music as a refuge, I want to create music that can offer a small roof for people to temporarily escape from the worries of the world."

Franz's face, which had been looking at Soo-hyun happily until now, hardened.

"What?"

Frederick's face also turned serious. Soo-hyun looked bewildered as he saw the two men's faces change.

"Was my answer wrong?"

"…"

"…"

Soo-hyun continued to ask questions as he saw the two men thinking about something without an answer.

"As Uncle Frederick used to say, the aspect of poetry we enjoy more fully than in any past era is music. Music is the youngest of all the arts, and of all the arts, the one that is most easily freed from the bondage of symbols."

Soo-hyun said as he looked at Franz.

"Uncle Franz used to say that music is a means of conveying the language of the heart, and the only language that needs no interpretation. The role of music is to comfort the people of the world with that language. So, isn't that the purpose of a musician's life? Am I wrong, gentlemen?"

After hearing the boy's words, both men fell into deep thought at the same time. Their teachings themselves were not wrong, but the problem was that they were unable to educate the child from his purest perspective. It was overlooked that the boy only knew how to take what was said at face value.

Among the two friends who exchanged glances, Franz was the first to take Soo-hyun's hand and speak.

"Did you tell me what happened? After comforting people in a hospital in Poland, you realized something. The reward for comforting is, in reality, the greatest comfort to oneself."

When Soo-hyun nodded, this time it was Frederick who spoke.

"The answer is right there."

Soo-hyun asked, puzzled.

"Yes?"

Franz said:

"To give comfort to those who need it and to convey love to those who need it. And to play music of joy, anger, sorrow, pleasure, disgust, desire, and ambition, and to make people feel those emotions. Is that the meaning of music?"

Soo-hyun looked at the men in silence. The expressions on their faces were extremely serious.

"Isn't it?"

Frederick took the other hand his friend was not holding.

"That's right. But it's also wrong."

'What does that mean? If it's right, it's right; if it's wrong, it's wrong.'

"I don't understand."

Franz took a deep breath and said,

"The reason your poems reach people is because you sent such perfect poems. Isn't that right?"

"Yes."

"You were trying to tell people that poem, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"That's wrong."

"…?"

Frederick's face appeared next to Franz's, who was looking directly into Soo-hyun's eyes.

"Poetry is something you direct at yourself. Music is something you make for yourself alone. The fragments of poetry you direct at yourself are what must be transmitted to people."

It didn't make sense at first glance.

'Why does the poem I send to myself have to be a performance for others? Can't I just think it to myself?'

But when he saw the serious men, the idea of replying disappeared. Soo-hyun was lost in thought.

'My head is more complicated than before I met you.'

Franz gently wrapped his arms around Soo-hyun's shoulders and whispered.

"Music is like the pink-lipped clam that whispers tales of the eternal sea, like the bird that sings its song on a distant shore. Have you ever heard the clam whisper and the bird sing?"

Soo-hyun shook his head slightly. Then Franz continued speaking.

"Why give that chance to someone else? Of course, you should feel it yourself first. At first, I explain it and throw you the emotional scraps. But when those scraps grow and become fragments, stones, and large rocks, then you will share everything you have in your imagination with the audience."

Frederick added with a smile.

"And when fragments of your music reach people, you will become a true musician."

Soo-hyun closed his eyes and thought.

'I still don't know, sirs. But I feel very lucky to have both of you by my side.'