Old-time musicians

Good sleep this time

So heavy, so confused

Fan Ning woke up leisurely from the auditorium, his head tilted to one side, almost parallel to his shoulder.

My neck hurt like cement, and it took me a long time to raise my head with difficulty.

Vision is dim and blurry.

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He could barely see the stage facing him in front of him through a few weak green light sources in the distance.

There is also a row of potted flowers at the front of the stage, a few chairs and music stands further inside, and a grand piano on the side.

The object's black outline is shrouded in a dull, ghostly green.

“2 hours drive downtown to the juncture of urban and rural areas for Bach’s chamber music concerts”

The first round of things jumped out of Fan Ning's thoughts, and then he noticed something was wrong and shook his head.

"Symphony No. 1, Symphony No. 2...the office of the director of the Turner Arts Hall...the faces and figures of the companions...the ruins of the 'Grand Court School' that are about to collapse..."

Another very different set of things comes to mind.

The concert hall was dark and spacious, and my body was slightly weak, which did not affect my movements much.

But this place? …

What was my experience at the previous moment, was it that I fell into the reentry passage of the invisible well, or was it... that I lost consciousness while listening to a Bach chamber music concert?

Fan Ning felt like his mind was filled with confusion, and he couldn't tell the difference for a while.

There was something wrapped around the wrist of his left hand, and there was a playlist on his lower abdomen, but when he reached out to touch his chest, there was no key hanging there.

He picked up the playlist and stood up slowly in surprise. He subconsciously made the same move as he did a year or two ago, rummaging around in his pockets.

The phone was quickly found.

There is no special message, the battery is 1%, the time is 23:30, and it is more than an hour before the concert ends.

A bunch of DingTalk work news shows that the boss still doesn’t forget to gank employees frantically even on the 996 weekend.

Fan Ning frowned, swiped down the control panel of his phone, and turned on the flash.

The stage was illuminated as a small area of ​​incandescence.

The grand piano was moved to the side after the performance, and the key cover and top cover were closed.

He held the light and scanned left and right, but found no distorted human silhouette.

"I can't go back to the past moment in the teaching concert hall of the University of San Lenia... Could it be that there was some unknown error at the end of the return passage, neither the positioning of the paint nor the positioning of the fetal membranes, but it sent me to another place? In a certain concert hall? I just don’t know if it’s still within the range of Ufranser, and I don’t know if the people in the Special Patrol Hall are on the same trajectory as me..."

"Of course, we don't rule out that we are now in a symphony hall somewhere in the Southern Continent..."

"But why are those strange text messages missing..."

Fan Ning looked around cautiously, but his vision was still dim and blurry, as if his spiritual sense had no effect.

He tried to simulate the "sense of demarcation", "sense of connection" and "sense of pulling" in his mind, but there was no movement. He waved to a flowerpot again, but there was still no movement. Finally, his expression changed. change.

I can no longer summon the invisible power of "Candle" and "Key"!

The light on the mobile phone screen was dim, and Fan Ning glanced at the upper left side of it.

This time, his whole body froze in place.

The signal is full and the operator's name is clearly visible!

"Ding ding dong dong..."

The shutdown bell sounds when the battery is exhausted.

A great sense of absurdity struck Fanning.

After a long time, he moved his body step by step from the stage, and walked along the wall to the passage with the help of a weak green light source.

Then, he gradually saw the signboard above his head clearly.

"Safe Exit/Exit"

Without stopping, his hand touched something like a gate in the darkness, and then pushed it open.

"Ah, why is there still someone left!?"

"Young man, you scared me to death!"

The lights in the corridor of the concert hall were soft and bright, and the tiles on the floor were spotless. Two aunts in red cleaning clothes stood mopping the floor, staring at themselves with expressions that turned from shock to laughter.

Hearing the well-spoken Chinese words and seeing the modern furnishings and clothes, Fan Ning turned over and over again in his mind to confirm some things.

He was sure that the occult knowledge, those symphonies he wrote, those completely different ancient languages, and the people and things he met were all clearly identifiable in his mind and could come and go freely.

In doubt and uncertainty, he raised his vigilance to the greatest extent, and then responded to the two cleaning staff with a confused expression:

"I... fell asleep. I don't know why no one called me."

Then walked all the way out and never looked back.

"What's going on..." The aunt shook her head in confusion, "This young man is really good at sleeping. He's the most sound sleeper I've ever seen during a concert."

Another kindly reminded: "You haven't picked up your stuff yet? Go and see if the person at the front desk is there. It might still be too late."

Fan Ning, who was already ten meters away, raised his left hand upon hearing this.

There is a red rubber ring wrapped around the wrist.

"Deposit number plate: 607"

In the ticket hall, the crystal chandelier overhead has been turned off, and only a few fluorescent lights at the entrance are on.

The limited light cannot fill the huge space. There are three female staff in black uniforms. One is checking the switch with a flashlight, one is answering the phone, and the other is holding a key chain and preparing to lock the door.

“Sorry, wait…” Fan Ning shouted, “I fell asleep and I haven’t taken my things away yet.”

After a normal exchange, three minutes later, he put on his backpack and connected his phone to a power bank.

“Ding——”

After the phone was restarted, a new DingTalk message popped up.

In the work group, the manager was @himself:

“The message sent by General X has been sent for more than an hour. Please explain it quickly!”

Fan Ning held the phone in his hand and flipped through it.

The boss’s long message started with employee gratitude education, and was mainly about the work arrangements for the new week, and finally ended with his insightful sharing of values.

In summary, “the more you talk about treatment, the narrower your mind becomes, and the more you talk about dedication, the higher your realm becomes.”

Below was a sound of receipt and praise, mixed with the earlier “Please ask all department managers to urge everyone to receive and implement it.” It was hard to believe that this scene happened on a Sunday night outside the 996 work rhythm.

Various near and far views, reality and the Internet intertwined…

Fan Ning felt more and more real, and more and more confused.

He thought carefully, and typed quickly with his thumbs:

"Sorry, Mr. Kaplun's matter is a bit sad, and I didn't pay attention to it for a while."

The boss's reaction was reasonable. He didn't know the question of "Who is Kaplun" and chose to ignore it. Of course, he replied quickly:

"If everyone talks about personal matters, leisure and relaxation, and drags their feet when facing company affairs... then what will our business become?"

The manager continued to follow up in the group:

"Don't do it again. Come to the company half an hour early for the morning meeting tomorrow and prepare the PPT for the report."

All the details are true, and Fanning feels it is increasingly difficult to test the current real situation.

His eyes flickered, his expression did not change, and his fingers continued to type replies in the group, his posture as elegant as a pianist:

"I am your father."