Leng Zimo was known in the industry for his Golden Ear; what he saw value in should not be wrong.
But since the piece was written by her, and it was a work of many years, Luo Xiaoqian naturally did not share his confidence.
"I lack confidence in myself," she admitted.
"So you doubt my judgnt?" he challenged.
The song was his choice, and she was the one he had set his sights on; her lack of self-confidence was, in effect, a doubt of his discernnt.
Luo Xiaoqian’s short temper flared, "You know full well that’s not what I an!"
"Then stop wasting words!" Leng Zimo sat up straight at the piano, "I’ll play it through once; pay attention to the parts I’ve modified!"
Without giving Luo Xiaoqian a chance to retort, his hands had already touched the piano keys, and the familiar lody flowed from his fingertips.
Luo Xiaoqian stepped forward, leaning on the piano, her eyes on the score in her hands, listening.
In fact, she was quite fond of this piece personally.
Back then, it was her fascination with martial arts novels that had led her to compose this piece with an ancient feel.
Listening to his piano playing and referring to the score in hand, Luo Xiaoqian easily spotted so subtle modifications. After these changes, the piece beca even more moving and lodious, especially the chorus part, which had undergone significant adjustnts.
At that ti, she was still young. Though she had spirit, she lacked grandeur.
After Leng Zimo’s adjustnts to the chorus, the layers of the song beca imdiately clear, from the lodious main and secondary parts to the grand chorus, and then to the final bright and flowing section. The transitions were all exceedingly harmonious.
If the original song was just a piece of raw jade with good texture but no luster, then after his modifications, it was as if the raw jade had been polished by the most skilled professional, fully releasing its inherent extraordinary quality and shine.
Luo Xiaoqian clutched the score, still imrsed in the emotions brought by the song.
It took her quite a while to snap back to reality.
"Incredible, I can hardly believe it!"
This Leng Zimo truly deserved to be called a prodigy; if this song were actually produced, it would undoubtedly stand out.
In the face of her praise, Leng Zimo remained utterly calm.
Praise was sothing he had heard far too often.
"Now, try singing it without the lyrics!"
He played again.
Luo Xiaoqian looked at the score, replacing the lyrics with "ah" sounds as she sang.
At first, it went well, but when she entered the chorus, her breath control seed sowhat insufficient. The fluctuating scales could make the whole song sound better and more impressive, but they also increased the difficulty for the singer.
After all, Luo Xiaoqian had only trained in children’s vocals, and her only real vocal training had been those few lessons at EM. Otherwise, she relied entirely on her own experience and exploration.
"Stop!" As she resorted to falsetto once again, Leng Zimo abruptly called a halt, unceremoniously, "What do you think singing is? Everyone’s throat is an instrunt; you need to control it with breath, with dantian, get it?"
"Again!"
...
Luo Xiaoqian passed the first high part with flying colors, but when she reached the final high notes of the chorus, she again encountered the issue of insufficient breath.
Standing up, Leng Zimo positioned himself directly in front of her.
"Again!"
She sang again.
"Your breath is all here; you need to let it sink down, to the dantian," he instructed.
His finger touched her chest, then naturally slid down to rest on her lower abdon.
"Again!"
Luo Xiaoqian sang once more, but his hand remained on her lower abdon, and through the thin fabric, she could clearly feel the warmth of his palm. With him touching her like that, how could she possibly concentrate?
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