From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

The piece concluded, its lingering notes and lyrics swirling like smoke, tiny sparks dancing into blood vessels through pores. Rushing blood and thundering heartbeats crashed within the depths of the soul, a surge of exhilaration and passion, of joy and emotion, defying accurate expression.

Unconsciously, they took a small step forward, only to halt nervously, gazing blankly and quietly at Anson.

Though Anson was seated at the piano and they were standing to enjoy the performance, their positions seemed reversed, their heads tilted slightly, looking up at Anson.

Blood burned.

Lily, flustered, hastily closed her eyes, immersing herself in the rapid and tumultuous rhythm of her breathing, seeking a semblance of reason amidst the chaos.

Miles, unable to contain himself, abruptly stepped forward, only to slam on the brakes, intimidated by Anson's turning gaze, as if a forbidden zone lay before him.

"Uh, Anson, may I ask what that song was just now…?"

As he spoke, Miles realized his voice trembled slightly, betraying his uncontrollable excitement and elation, hinting at a sliver of anticipation—

Indeed, he still loved music, still loved composing, still hoped to see the cello integrated into popular music.

Anson didn't immediately respond, lost in the surging tide of inspiration.

Then.

"'Viva la Vida'."

Lily reopened her eyes, and though she didn't understand anything, she couldn't suppress her curiosity.

Miles, however, instantly recalled, "Frida Kahlo?"

Connor finally snapped out of his shock. "Who?"

Anson was about to say the inspiration for the biopic "Frida," but then thought, "Frida" wouldn't be released until the end of the year, and the unibrowed Mexican woman was still not that well-known to the general public.

Miles was an exception. "A Mexican painter, a woman with a free spirit. She has a painting called 'Viva la Vida, or Death and All His Friends.'"

But why Frida?

His gaze returned to Anson.

"Frida contracted polio at six, leaving her with a limp. At eighteen, she suffered a car accident, shattering her cervical spine, rendering her infertile, and brushing shoulders with death, enduring a lifetime of prolonged pain and torment."

"Yet, she didn't surrender."

"She kept creating, kept fighting, kept chasing, loving and hating fiercely, facing all hardships with unwavering determination and courage."

"Was she perfect?"

"No, of course not. Many things are romanticized fantasies we concoct after her death, imagining her as a perfect symbol."

"But does it matter?"

"Not really. Because she truly bloomed and flourished in her fragmented life. Her sorrow, her pain, her torment, her struggle—even when looking back at the end of her life, she chose to embrace them, for these hardships were what shaped her brilliance and splendor."

From Louis XVI to Frida to Brad, and now to Lily, Connor, and Miles, they all faced their own hardships and challenges, and they all faced their own choices, including Anson himself—

Viva la Vida.

This time, Anson hoped he wouldn't have regrets, that when this stolen life came to an end, he could openly embrace his own ending.

Anson sat quietly in the storage room, yet the small space couldn't contain his soul, which overflowed into the entire world, the entire universe.

Miles finally couldn't restrain himself any longer and took another step forward. "Anson, could… could you play the first verse again?"

"Ah, the cello, I forgot…"

"But, it doesn't matter… Here, right here, like cutting into the cello, what do you think?"

Chattering on, no sooner said than done.

Without even a moment to react, Miles and Anson were already busy—

Clearly, "Viva la Vida" was completely different from "Wake Me Up" and "Hero," not in terms of genre, but in terms of the complexity of the arrangement.

Miles offered his professional opinion: they should take full advantage of the symphony orchestra.

To be precise, not just a symphony orchestra, because the symphony orchestra's grandeur was classical, but the band's style was pioneering and adventurous, breaking existing musical patterns. Pop, electronic, and so on were indispensable, so they should use different instruments and different audio tracks to enrich the arrangement.

Music and artistic creation are the same; simplifying the complex and complexifying the simple are both extremely difficult. A slight misstep could completely derail the process.

Now, Anson and Miles were trying to simplify the complex, but not by simply stacking instruments. They needed to find resonance between performances—

This was Anson's weakness.

Honestly, Anson had never studied any formal music theory. When his hobby turned into professional work, he ran into a wall.

How to arrange, how to coordinate, how to match, how to resonate, how to maintain harmony—this was a whole new world.

"Wake Me Up" and "Hero" had rich layers, but clear division of labor and clear ideas. Anson relied on intuition and inspiration to complete the arrangement, but now:

@#%…

Gibberish, a mess.

Fortunately, Miles was experienced, not only with systematic professional knowledge but also with clear thinking and quick reactions, immediately connecting the key points.

Obviously, this was a big project.

Lily and Connor were completely dumbfounded—

Had the development of the situation skipped some steps?

The two exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with shock and confusion. So, what was this? Had they reached a consensus? Were they going to proceed according to Anson's proposal?

But… why not?

If it weren't for Anson, from the beginning, they would have had no hope at all, no "Tonight Show," no record company, and no "Wake Me Up" and "Hero." Now that Anson was willing to continue the band's hopes with them, they had no reason to refuse.

What's more.

Connor looked at Lily, revealing a slightly helpless smile. "Can you refuse?"

Although Connor didn't say it explicitly, Lily immediately understood. Could she refuse "Viva la Vida"?

Such a magnificent, such a moving, such a wonderful, such a brilliant song.

The corners of Lily's mouth also turned up. She wanted to try, she wanted to believe in her passion once more, she wanted to chase her dream once more, even if the ending was a bloody mess.

"I couldn't refuse 'Wake Me Up,' and I couldn't refuse 'Hero.' Do you think I can refuse 'Viva la Vida'?"

Lily said.

Then, Lily looked at the pitiful Anson and Miles, and squeezed into that small storage room as well. Connor followed suit, and the group of people began to work, sweating and bustling with enthusiasm.