Golden Greenery

The mighty canal flows through the plains of northern Germany. The canal has leisurely flowing water, light green water color, and silky ripples. Zhuo Yang didn't know where it originated. He only knew that the canal would go to the sea, and the river water would eventually return to the sea.

He sat alone on the edge of the canal outside the high white walls of Victor Stadium, watching the quiet river flow into the distance. The freighters coming and going quietly separated and closed the river water like zippers, leaving only one small eddy after another chasing the fleeting wake.

Chairman Angus Mullen's long conversation finally allowed Zhuo Yang to find the crux of the problem - he had done bad things with good intentions and acted like a good person.

Zhuo Yang patted his chest and embraced the Lion King Lao Song. His original intention was to make everyone happy, Lao Song happy, and Uncle Zha happy. He believed that with his efforts on the court, he could resolve the tactical differences between Lao Song and Uncle Zha. differences.

But it was Zhuo Yang's generous offer that made Lao Song forget himself and underestimate Klopp's authority as the head coach, and also made Uncle Zha fail to cut through the mess quickly because of Zhuo Yang's face. In the end, the accumulation of conflicts was intensified under the heavy pressure of hoping to compete for the championship at the end of the season.

To be honest, if Zhuo Yang does not take over Lao Song, but is more mature, invites Uncle Zha and the three of them to talk openly and find a good solution that is acceptable to everyone. For example, Zhuo Yang can be on the court when Lao Song's forward penetration happens. Giving orders when the opportunity arises, just like Ballack and Lucio, instead of letting Lao Song do whatever he wants, presumably there will be a happy ending for everyone in the end.

No matter what people say, Zhuoyang did bad things with good intentions for the sake of loyalty and friends. He wanted to make everyone happy but failed. In a highly professional modern football club, Zhuoyang violated professional rules and acted amateurishly.

Zhuo Yang used the perceptual thinking of music to deal with a matter that should be decided by rational logic.

"Zhuoyang, the most important thing is to abuse good people. If you abuse good people, you will lose your principles and even lose your bottom line. Zhuoyang, abuse of good people is more harmful to others than pure bad people!"

Old Mullen's teachings were deafening, and Zhuo Yang was like an enlightenment. He is a smart man, narrow-minded but not narrow-minded in his thinking. Zhuo Yang can accept heartfelt and correct criticism from others.

Things were wrong from the beginning, but Zhuo Yang did not blame Lao Song at this time. Lao Song did not take advantage of him. On the contrary, it was because he valued Zhuo Yang's status and role in Madibao that he came to ask for advice. Lao Song just looked down upon him. Klopp as a young manager.

Zhuoyang doesn’t blame Uncle Zha. From a head coach’s perspective, Klopp did nothing wrong. Instead, it was Zhuoyang’s overstepping that caused him constraints. But facing his outstanding captain, Uncle Zha can no longer be the same as before. I've been scolding for several years now.

——Fuck, it turns out that I inadvertently fanned the evil wind and lit the will-o'-the-wisp.

Zhuoyang became even more depressed and irritable. He knew what was going on, but the negative consequences were there and no solution was found. Uncle Zha and Lao Song are both shameless people, and they can no longer work together. The club is determined to abolish Lao Song and give Uncle Zha this bad breath. The ‘culprit’ Zhuo Yang couldn’t even open his mouth even if he wanted to deal with it.

Coupled with the torment between him and Mido, Zhuo Yang now wanted to rush to some war corner to fight and vent his anger.

The peaceful river water could not soothe Zhuo Yang's anxious heart at this time, nor could the gentle spring light dissolve the anger in his heart. The melodious whistle of the freighter seemed to be mocking him.

The cell phone rang: "Zhuoyang, where are you?" It was the instructor, Professor Carl Norman.

"Come to my office and pick up your homework for today."

This is strange. There is no such thing as homework at the Music University, not even classwork. Whether you like to learn or not depends entirely on your own consciousness.

Zhuo Yang heard from the fat Raiola that there was an Italian middle school teacher named Roberto Nevils who used homework to punish students who did not follow the rules. To this day, the Nevills’ grave and the location of their family’s ancestral graves have become Italian state secrets that must not be revealed.

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Looking at the yellowed paper handed over by Professor Norman, Zhuo Yang was very surprised.

This is a very old piece of staff paper, A3 front and back, with obviously handwritten notes on it. However, this ancient piece of music has no name, no title, no signature.

Zhuo Yang hummed a few lines while reading the score, and was even more surprised: "Arnold Schoenberg?"

"Yes, Schoenberg." Professor Norman nodded: "This is his authentic work."

Zhuo Yang suddenly felt his hands heavy. Schoenberg was a music giant nearly a hundred years ago. It is conceivable that his handwriting is a very important document even at the Hannover University of Music.

"This is the sixth of Schoenberg's six piano ditties. It is not very popular in the classical music circle and is a bit cold." Professor Norman explained to Zhuo Yang.

In fact, Zhuoyang doesn't really like to play Arnold Schoenberg's works on a daily basis. Including this ditty, he only played it twice as a fit. Zhuoyang doesn't like the fragmented, messy and disordered feeling of notes in Schoenberg's piano pieces. However, Schoenberg is more popular for his symphonies, suites, operas, etc., which are more representative of Schoenberg. The twelve-tone series system.

"Here's your homework, give it back to me tomorrow morning and talk about it."

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At night, Zhuo Yang was still immersed in the movement of "Schoenberg's Sixth Piano Piece". From the initial obscurity, exaggeration, deformation and weirdness, he gradually listened to the despair, fear, tension, pain and other morbid psychological or mood.

"Zhuoyang, this was created by Schoenberg in France when he witnessed the horrors of the First World War and was personally there. It is said that at that time, his piano was only separated from the battlefield by a broken window."

The music in front of Zhuo Yang turned into fragmented and bloody corpses. War flames burned outside his window, and soldiers screamed and charged repeatedly. The explosion of Krupp cannon shells made the night sky look like day, and the firelight of burning trees shone through the window lattice on the white walls of the room, flickering like the entrance to hell.

"Most people play this piece just to show off that they can master the difficult fingering, but they can't understand it. Zhuoyang, I hope you can."

Zhuoyang understood what he was playing, because he left the piano and rushed out the door into a meat grinder-like battlefield.

Wearing tattered riding boots and a mutilated Prussian steel helmet on his head, Zhuo Yang charged like a Mauser. The small second floor behind him had long been burned to ashes. At his feet were the corpses of his companions, some familiar and some unfamiliar. Yes, there were men, women, and children, all of them corpses, and the canal was filled with dazzling red water.

Zhuo Yang's body was covered with broken intestines and internal organs. He couldn't remember how many people he had killed. Killing had become his only instinct at this time.

The moon in the sky also turned blood red, and the whole world was filled with violence, anger and blood. Zhuo Yang screamed and killed until a bullet from a Maxim water-cooled heavy machine gun penetrated his head.

The sound of the piano stopped suddenly, and Zhuo Yang was sweating profusely!