“`
After everyone had taken their seats, Editor-in-chief Oshanin stepped onto the conductor’s podium.
Within the music pit, there was only a small orchestra.
Wang Zhong heard someone ridicule, “Isn’t the orchestra just made up of their magazine editors? I remember they’re all amateurs, aren’t they? Without a single professional musician, what can they possibly perform?”
Another person responded, “I didn’t even hear about this plan until yesterday. They might have had to hurriedly push ducks onto perches today.”
“Indeed, this could be to make a fool of the general!”
“If it’s to make a fool of the general, then what was their intention when they came over to greet us just now?”
Wang Zhong could hear these gossipers especially clearly, perhaps due to the unique acoustics of the concert hall.
Ludmila clutched his arm the whole time, truly looking as though she feared he would draw his gun and start shooting again.
Wang Zhong couldn’t help but reassure her, “What do you take me for? I won’t draw a gun.”
“You say that! But you drew your gun yesterday when we went to the club! You might well have developed a habit, resolving problems subconsciously by drawing a gun.”
Wang Zhong was left speechless, but since Ludmila was pressing his hand in such a delightful manner, he didn’t say anything else.
Editor-in-chief Oshanin was already prepared on the conducting platform, and after exchanging a glance with the soloist, he lightly flicked the conductor’s baton.
The music started.
As soon as Wang Zhong recognized the melody, he relaxed: it was just a rearranged version of “The Holy War,” with a rhythm that felt like a heavy heartbeat at the beginning—something he was all too familiar with.
The previously chattering musicians all fell silent.
The slightly plump male singer began to sing. The words seemed a bit different from the original, but the overall tone was correct.
Wang Zhong completely relaxed, knowing the song would be a success—as long as those musicians didn’t act in bad faith, they had to admit it was an outstanding battle hymn.
Suddenly, Ludmila pinched Wang Zhong’s arm so hard it hurt, preventing him from focusing on the song; he had to turn and look at the source of the pain.
Ludmila’s eyes were wet, and while pinching Wang Zhong’s arm violently, she kept wiping her tears and runny nose with a handkerchief.
Distracted by his fiancée, Wang Zhong was unable to concentrate on the song and instead looked around, only to discover that most of the noblewomen were tight-faced, while the older gentlemen all appeared moved.
Well, the noblewomen, who had never experienced war and didn’t care about it, remained unaffected. Had the gentlemen been naturally stirred by the song’s solemnity?
But almost immediately, Wang Zhong spotted an exception: Crown Princess Olga had stood up in her box, pressing her hands against the railing.
Such theatres are designed for optimal listening from seated positions; Olga’s behavior of standing up during the performance was actually impolite.
But the Crown Princess probably didn’t care about that anymore.
When the song ended, the entire theatre was eerily quiet.
The next moment, led by the Crown Princess, clapping started, and while clapping, she shouted, “Brilliant! I could almost see my brother resolutely charging toward the enemy!”
No, in fact, this has nothing to do with personal courage; it’s a song that glorifies the entire nation, glorifying the fighting people, Your Highness!
Just as Wang Zhong was seriously considering whether or not to stand up and explain this to the princess, Professor Vladimir Bradsky stood up: “This does not only celebrate individual bravery! In my opinion, this song praises the countless ordinary people who rushed to the battlefield.
“It glorifies the entire Ante nation! This song didn’t use any fanciful arrangement techniques. Had it been homework submitted in one of my music theory classes, I probably wouldn’t have given a high grade. However, as a war hymn, it is perfect!”
No sooner had the professor finished speaking than someone objected, “But the lyrics of this song speak of ‘the people’s war.’ Isn’t it inappropriate for use at the state funeral of the Crown Prince and Duke Rokossovsky?”
“Exactly,” another concurred. “It’s almost as if the song was tailor-made for the Church, especially with that hymn-like chorus.”
Olga spoke up again, “No! It’s very appropriate! My brother would have definitely loved this song! Definitely!”
Wang Zhong suddenly remembered that he, too, was a relative of someone enjoying a state funeral, so after the princess, he said, “When I was writing it, I also thought of my father’s face, and the smile of my dear friend Ivan! Are you questioning the depth of my relationship with the two martyred heroes?”
The critics fell silent immediately.
Then the leader of the Ye Fort Orchestra spoke, “I have to admit the song is very impressive. Even though the melody is indeed what General Rokossovsky hummed last night, but the listening experience is completely different from when the major hummed it yesterday.
“May I ask, who arranged this piece? Surely General Rokossovsky didn’t do the arrangement himself? I doubt the general has such professional expertise…”
Wang Zhong openly admitted, “That’s right, the arrangement wasn’t mine, and even the lyrics weren’t mine. I merely provided a melody; it was the arranger who expanded it into a musical piece.”
The orchestra leader immediately revealed a triumphant smile, “Then isn’t it somewhat inappropriate that only the major’s name is written as the composer?”
Bradsky spoke up, “I know the person who transcribed the major’s music onto the score, and his character ensures he would never take credit for himself. Trust me, even if seven or eight parts of the song’s success are his doing, as long as the original tune came from the major, the composer won’t sign their name, absolutely not.”
When the professor spoke, his tone was one of boasting about his own son, his air of pride akin to that of an angler who had landed a ten-pound fish, wishing everyone would carry the fish around the world and brag with a megaphone.
Then Crown Princess Olga said, “I think the music for the state and public funeral should follow this one. General Rokossovsky, can you write more?”
Wang Zhong was terrified at the prospect of the princess calling out ‘Alyosha’ in public. But she didn’t. Instead, she used “General Rokossovsky,” which was much better.
Last time she seemed to have called him ‘Alyosha’ directly; possibly considering it was a public occasion this time, she used a more formal appellation.
Wang Zhong: “I apologize, Your Highness, but as you know, I’m actually not skilled in music. When we were children, you and Ivan Highness played the piano and the violin, and I could only clap my hands to the rhythm. I can’t even play the drums.”
“`
“I also heard this song in a dream, so I remembered it.”
What Wang Zhong meant was that the world before he transmigrated seemed like a dream to him.
As soon as these words were spoken, everyone drew a sharp breath.
Wang Zhong was stunned, what was going on?
Ludmila whispered in his ear, “Saint Andrew once said the same thing, that he heard melodies in a dream, and thus he wrote them down.”
…Was Saint Andrew a predecessor? Or did he truly hear angels singing to him? After all, this world really does have mystic forces.
Instead of the latter possibility, Wang Zhong rather hoped that Saint Andrew was a predecessor.
At this moment, Professor Bradsky broke the silence, “Then let’s settle on this song as the first one! I think we should organize the orchestra to learn it right away and then perform at the train station!”
“The youths from all over the country are gathering there to embark on their journey, heading to the front lines. They need this song to boost their morale!”
Before the orchestra’s conductor could reply, another tall and thin gentleman stood up, “Agreed. Your Excellency, Conductor, I think the orchestra should start rehearsing this song immediately and strive to perform at the train station by tomorrow morning.”
Wang Zhong asked Ludmila, “Who was that speaking?”
“The vice-conductor of the orchestra, and he’s very close to the Church,” Liu Xia answered.
Wow, the Church has infiltrated every aspect, hasn’t it?
The conductor stared at the vice-conductor for a while before saying, “You are correct, Aleksandrovich, go and organize the rehearsal.”
The vice-conductor immediately saluted and then strode up to the stage to ask Editor-in-Chief Oshanin for the score.
As he came down with the score, he also saluted Wang Zhong.
The conductor, looking deflated like a withered radish, cleared his throat and said, “Then let’s continue with the procedure, start the selection…”
“I would like to hear this song again,” Olga, the Crown Princess, interrupted the conductor, “What is the name of this song?”
Editor-in-Chief Oshanin on stage rubbed his nose awkwardly and said, “It’s called ‘The Night of July 15th at Argesukov, a Serendipitous Composition.'”
Wang Zhong wanted to laugh; Vasily took the time he hummed Heng as the title of the song.
And he got the date wrong too, it was the night he met Aunt Alexeyevna.
Oshanin turned to Wang Zhong, “Your Excellency, General, is this… the name of the song?”
Wang Zhong shook his head, “No, the song is called ‘The Holy War’.”
Olga, the Crown Princess, asked, “Did you also hear this one in a dream?”
Wang Zhong nodded, “Yes, Saint Andrew told me.”
Having already unwittingly stepped on a landmine, he might as well step down harder to scare this lot of vermin.
Sure enough, his words again stirred up waves of shock.
But the Crown Princess Olga laughed heartily, as though she took it all as a joke, “Major General Rokossov, you really have a sense of humor.”
Wang Zhong also smiled.
————
A little later, at the Eastern Holy Church’s Great Cathedral of Maria.
The Grand Patriarch Belinsky took a sip of Triana wine and let out a satisfied sound.
At that moment, a Judge came in with a report, “Your Eminence, this is a piece of music just sent to ‘Ante Modern Music’ magazine by Major General Rokossov.”
“Oh? Major General Rokossov writes music as well? Didn’t I hear last night that he had offended the entire music world? What, is he now writing songs trying to win back favor?
“This is not good; no one can excel in everything, there’s no need for him to save face in music too.”
As Belinsky spoke, he gestured for the Judge to bring the piece of music over.
The Judge immediately handed the score to Belinsky.
“Hmm,” Belinsky didn’t understand the score, glanced at it briefly, and then tossed aside the sheet asking, “What’s the reaction from the musicians?”
“They’re extremely shocked, even Ye Fort’s conductor, who had a grudge against the Major General, thinks it’s a good piece.”
Belinsky was surprised: “Really?”
He picked up the score again, “This… oh, there are lyrics, let’s see… ‘Let noble fury boil over like waves! Fight the people’s fight, the sacred battle’…”
The Grand Patriarch looked at the Judge, “Go and ask the Propaganda Department if they were the ones who fed these words to the General.”
“They weren’t,” said the Judge with certainty, “Both the Propaganda Department and the Hymn Department say it has nothing to do with them.”
Belinsky raised his eyebrows, “Investigate this lyricist, Filippov. And confirm again if this was indeed written by the General.”