ECG -Chapter 38 The Spanish Matador

At first, Lin Hao thought that Wu Xiaozhou and Wan Yong would end up having a conflict. After military training, he had even specially advised him that it was better to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Who would have thought that they never actually fought? According to Wu Xiaozhou, he was practicing every day until he was almost crying, so he didn’t have the time to bother with a coward like that.

Among everyone, Cui Gang from the trumpet major practiced the hardest.

He spent the longest time in the practice room, basically being the last one to return to the dormitory every day. Recently, he had also bought a trumpet mute, so the sound no longer disturbed others, and he practiced even more diligently.

……

On the weekend, heavy rain fell outside.

The four people in Dorm 428 didn’t go anywhere. They all sat cross-legged on the lower bunks, bragging and chatting.

Lin Hao was sitting on Fatty Meng’s lower bunk, with Cui Gang beside him. Across from them were Wu Xiaozhou and Fatty Meng.

Wu Xiaozhou said that Lin Hao could play all kinds of instruments, but Fatty Meng said he was just flattering him. The two of them immediately started arguing.

Lin Hao couldn’t be bothered with them. He smoked leisurely, thinking about his own matters.

Cui Gang was using a piece of velvet cloth to continuously wipe his trumpet. It was a Chinese-made Parrot brand trumpet, and it looked quite old. The electroplated surface had already become badly mottled.

Seeing that Fatty Meng was losing the argument with Wu Xiaozhou, he glanced sideways at the trumpet in Cui Gang’s hand. His tiny eyes rolled around as he said, “If Haozi can play a trumpet piece, then I’ll admit you’re right!”

When Lin Hao heard Fatty Meng also calling him “Haozi” like Wu Xiaozhou did, he helplessly rolled his eyes.

Wu Xiaozhou curled his lips. “Give me something practical. What use is it if you admit I’m right?”

“How about this? From now on, I’ll call you Brother Wu! How’s that?”

“Deal!”

Wu Xiaozhou’s face turned red with excitement. He shouted at Lin Hao, “Play one! Haozi! Play one!”

Lin Hao sighed. This guy had been someone who loved watching chaos unfold since he was little!

Cui Gang looked at Lin Hao with a face full of surprise. “You really can?”

Lin Hao nodded.

Cui Gang hurriedly wiped the mouthpiece a few times with the velvet cloth.

“Come on, come on, Haozi, play one!”

Damn it!

Lin Hao was speechless. Even the most honest Cui Gang had started calling him that.

He reluctantly took the trumpet.

Fatty Meng’s tiny eyes widened slightly. Could it be that Lin Hao really knew how to play the trumpet?

Before Lin Hao could even start playing, Yan Bin, nicknamed Little Seven, Gao Ling, nicknamed Big Boss Gao, and Chu Xixi, nicknamed Little Sister Chu, arrived.

Little Sister Chu was still carrying an umbrella. As soon as she entered, she quickly opened it and placed it in a corner. Her white sneakers were already wet.

The three of them pulled over three wooden chairs and sat down. Chu Xixi took off her shoes and sat cross-legged without the slightest bit of a ladylike image.

Yan Xiaoqi complained about the terrible weather.

Big Boss Gao laughed and said, “What’s going on with you guys?”

Wu Xiaozhou then told them about the bet he had just made with Fatty Meng.

All three of them looked at Lin Hao. Chu Xixi was also full of surprise.

“Lin Hao, you really know how to play the trumpet?”

Lin Hao didn’t answer her question. He placed the mouthpiece against his lips and began to play.

The trumpet’s tone was high-pitched and bright……

Amidst the tense and passionate trumpet sound, the scene of a bullfighting arena immediately appeared before everyone’s eyes.

A matador dressed in gorgeous clothing was brave and fierce. He raised a red cloth high in his hand.

A muscular bull glared with wide eyes, one of its hind legs scraping the ground and kicking up clouds of dust……

After the piece ended, everyone in the room was completely stunned.

Especially Cui Gang. He was even more dumbfounded, and only after a long while did he manage to ask, “What is this piece called?”

Lin Hao pressed the trumpet’s water key and blew against the mouthpiece. Some saliva flowed out from the water key.

“This piece is called The Spanish Matador!”

Old Gao started clapping, and immediately afterward Yan Xiaoqi, Chu Xiaomei, and Fatty Meng joined in.

Wu Xiaozhou looked at Fatty Meng with a teasing expression.

Fatty Meng naturally knew what he meant and stammered, not knowing how to say it.

Old Gao shouted, “Old Meng, call him!”

“That’s right!” Yan Xiaoqi flipped her long hair and joined in the teasing.

“Damn it!” Fatty Meng looked helpless. He stared at Wu Xiaozhou, who was grinning mischievously, and called out, “W-Wu… Brother Wu!”

“Eh—” Wu Xiaozhou dragged out his response and happily accepted.

“Damn!” Fatty Meng cursed, and everyone burst into laughter.

Cui Gang grabbed Lin Hao by the arm. “Quick, quick, write it down for me!”

He felt that this piece was simply too suitable for the trumpet. His heart was a little nervous, afraid that Lin Hao wouldn’t let him play it.

Lin Hao smiled. “Relax. I played it just so I could give it to you!”

Cui Gang scratched his head. He really wanted Lin Hao to write it out immediately, but he also knew it wasn’t good to pressure someone about this kind of thing.

Fatty Meng was a little confused. “You haven’t even been to Spain. How did you manage to write a piece like this?”

Lin Hao rolled his eyes.

“According to what you’re saying, does someone writing science fiction need to have seen aliens? Someone writing about murder and arson has to personally try it out? A composer who writes a battle anthem has to go to the battlefield himself? What if he dies there? I’ve never been to Spain, but does that mean I couldn’t have watched videos of Spanish matadors online and created it from that? Silly boy, art requires imagination…”

Fatty Meng scratched his head. It seemed like there was some logic to it, but he still felt like something wasn’t quite right…

Chu Xiaomei’s face was full of admiration. Lin Hao was now the most mysterious person in the entire music department.

It was said that when he transferred over from the art department, before he even went on stage, because several flies had been buzzing around Teacher Chen from the wind instrument group, this guy had improvised a piece called Flight of the Bumblebee based on the “buzzing” sound!

Not long ago, Director Fan had already handed this piece out to the fourth-year students. The composer’s name was clearly printed there: Lin Hao.

It was said that many senior students from the piano department were now practicing this piece like crazy, but to this day, no one had been able to reproduce Lin Hao’s speed and artistic atmosphere from that time.

Talented, handsome, and also a student of Fan Gang—Lin Hao’s halo kept stacking layer after layer. The only person who didn’t know about it was Lin Hao himself.

Chu Xiaomei gathered her thoughts and asked Lin Hao, “When I see other people playing the trumpet, their faces turn red and their necks bulge when they reach the high notes. Why does it look like you don’t have to put in any effort at all?”

Cui Gang was also concerned about this. “Yeah, Haozi. I heard that your last note reached the E above the high register. How come you didn’t look tired at all?”

Lin Hao hesitated.

If he taught this method to Cui Gang, Cui Gang’s professional instructor might have objections. But if he didn’t teach him, he would feel like he was letting his friend down.

After thinking briefly, he decided—why worry so much? As long as Cui Gang could improve, that was what mattered!

With that thought, he no longer had any reservations. In a serious tone, he asked, “First tell me, how is sound produced?”

Cui Gang was stunned. He didn’t quite understand what Lin Hao meant, because the question was extremely simple, but he still answered:

“Sound is produced by the vibration of an object.”

Lin Hao pointed at the trumpet in his hand.

“What about the trumpet?”

“The mouthpiece vibrates!” Cui Gang answered again.

“When most people play the trumpet, the higher the note, the more they try to use force. Subconsciously, they press the mouthpiece tightly against their lips, right?”

Cui Gang nodded.

Lin Hao turned his head and saw a plastic ruler on the desk. He put the trumpet on the bed, reached out, and picked up the ruler.

Everyone watched him, not understanding what he was trying to do.

He placed the ruler on the edge of the desk, leaving a long section hanging outside. One hand pressed down on the end, while the other lightly flicked it…

The plastic ruler began vibrating, producing a buzzing sound, and only after a while did the trembling stop.

Then he moved the ruler further onto the desk, leaving only a small part hanging outside. When he flicked it again, the ruler made a very short sound that disappeared almost instantly.

Lin Hao picked up the ruler.

“Just like this ruler—the more of it that’s left free, the longer and farther the sound travels. But if you press down on all of it, it won’t make any sound at all!”

Everyone was still completely confused. Only Cui Gang seemed to be deep in thought.

“When you press your lips tightly against the mouthpiece, you’ve already completely blocked the vibration frequency of the mouthpiece. So how could hitting high notes possibly not require effort?”

“I’ll ask you something.”

He looked at Cui Gang.

“I noticed your mouth shape when you play. When your teacher taught you back then, did they tell you to gently pull the corners of your mouth back, keep your chin flat, and make a smiling shape?”

Cui Gang quickly nodded.