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.

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 the things haven't been taken away."

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

"bite--"

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

Working in a large group, the manager is @himself:

"It has been more than an hour since President X sent the message. Please give Fan Ning a quick explanation!"

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

The boss's long message starts with employee gratitude education, focuses on the new week's work schedule, and ends with an incisive sharing of values.

To sum up, "the more you talk about remuneration, the narrower your mind will be, and the more you talk about dedication, the higher your realm will be."

Below is a sound of receipts and likes, mixed with the earlier "please department managers urge everyone to receive and implement". It is hard to believe that this scene happened on a Sunday night outside the 996 work rhythm.

Various close-ups and distant views, reality and the Internet are intertwined...

Fan Ning felt more real and more confused.

He thought carefully and quickly touched the screen with his two thumbs to type:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kaplan's matter made me a little sad, so I didn't pay attention to it for the moment."

The boss's reaction was very reasonable. He didn't know the question "Who is Capron?" and ignored it selectively. Of course, his reply was very fast:

"If everyone talks about personal matters, leisure and relaxation when dealing with company affairs, and is procrastinating... what will our career look like?"

The manager continued to follow up behind the group:

"Nothing will happen next time. I will arrive at the unit half an hour early tomorrow morning and be ready to report on PPT."

All the details were undoubtedly true, and Fan Ning found it increasingly difficult to find out the true situation.

His eyes flashed, his expression remained unchanged, and he continued to type out replies in the crowd with his fingers, as elegant as a pianist:

"I'm your father."