Unconsciously, Anson thought of Louis XVI—
Louis XVI, the last king before the fall of the Bourbon dynasty, whose reign directly led to the outbreak of the French Revolution. He was the only French king to be executed, and the second European monarch to meet that fate after England's Charles I.
In the pages of history, words like "weak," "luxurious," and "corrupt" have become the footnotes of Louis XVI's life. He symbolized a turning point in history, marking the transition from a feudal society to a modern one. He has become a symbol, a label, a piece of history, never seen as a real person.
Louis XIV left behind a legacy of financial chaos and widespread decline in France. Louis XV, on the other hand, took indulgence and extravagance to new heights, spending much of his energy on pursuing women. Many of his mistresses and scandals have been recorded in history, foreshadowing the downfall that would follow.
By the time Louis XVI ascended the throne, France was a broken and gasping nation, with the seeds of revolution already beginning to sprout.
Think of Brad, think of Lily, Connor, and Miles—they have all been chasing their dreams, trying to hold on to the flashes of brilliance in their lives, only to face failure, hitting wall after wall until self-doubt takes over. They grab desperately at any lifeline, but in the end, they are rejected, forgotten, and abandoned.
And Louis XVI?
Louis XVI, despite being a king, certainly had a life that seemed far removed from the struggles of people like Brad, who fought like ants to survive. Yet, in truth, Louis XVI never had control over his own life either. The harder he tried to hold on, the more the sands of time slipped through his fingers.
The grand public image of a king's glory stood in stark contrast to his private loneliness. Louis XVI simply wanted to be a locksmith, but the burden of the kingdom's fate rested on his shoulders, preventing him from living as he wished.
In this way, Louis XVI was like Brad, like Lily and the others—they were all trapped in their own prisons, struggling without ever breaking free.
When the French monarchy was teetering on the edge, Louis XVI did try to save his nation. He didn't want to end up like his grandfather Louis XV, remembered as a tyrant, but he failed because being king was never his desire.
When the French Revolution toppled the Bourbon rule, Louis XVI became a prisoner.
"Who would ever want to be king?"
Certainly not Louis XVI—he never understood politics.
Louis XVI was undoubtedly guilty of failing his country and his people, but the wheels of a dying regime were in motion long before his reign. The collapse was not solely his fault.
In the end, both Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette were executed for treason, accused of conspiring with foreign nations to restore the monarchy.
Cowardice and timidity had always been labels stuck to Louis XVI, but unexpectedly, as he approached the guillotine, this king who had dreamed of being a locksmith revealed his courage. He faced his death with composure and bravery.
Before his execution, he cried out to the crowd:
"I die innocent. I forgive my enemies, and I hope my blood will appease God's wrath."
Was Louis XVI truly at fault? He never wanted to be king. He only wanted to immerse himself in the world of locks, but he wasn't allowed that choice.
In this sense, Brad, Lily, and the others were luckier than Louis XVI—they still pursued their dreams.
History, like poetry, is pale, dark, and colorful, full of helplessness and inevitability.
Brad, Lily, and the others, in some ways, were no different from Louis XVI:
Relentlessly chasing their dreams, only to be battered and broken by reality. They ran headlong into life's obstacles, ending up bloodied and bruised. The harsh realities of the world stripped their dreams of its feathers until all their pride, ambition, and innocence were worn away—
Some grew cynical, others sank into despair, while a few accepted their fate with grace.
But isn't that true for everyone?
Anson himself was no different.
In his previous life, after everything that happened, he didn't dare dream. Even imagining something in secret felt like a luxury, as if even the smallest glimmer of hope would hasten his destruction.
In the dead of night, surrounded by endless darkness, he gazed up at the stars but didn't dare reach out.
But this time?
He refused to make the same mistakes.
He would keep running, keep fighting, and burn with life, savoring every moment, even if the price was total annihilation. He wouldn't stop.
Passion and blood, flowing and surging, cascaded from his fingertips, painting a grand and magnificent picture before him, with brilliant colors colliding and bursting into dazzling splendor.
Ding.
The sound of the piano keys struck his ears, but the piano alone was too thin, too weak. His mind called for every instrument—
Maybe they needed a full symphony orchestra.
The depth and majesty of the cello could unleash all the hidden emotional energy within the melody. What if violins and trombones were added? And what if drumbeats, like the tolling of a bell, joined in? Could they create a torrent of sound, a thundering stampede of emotions?
Indeed, standing at the crossroads of reality and dreams, everyone has to make a choice, and each choice comes with a price.
Indeed, the human heart is the most unpredictable thing of all, even beyond one's own control—a weakness of human nature.
But.
He wouldn't stop. He refused to stop. Life is too beautiful and brilliant to let the cruelty and bloodiness of reality hold him back. There's still a whole world of splendor waiting for him to explore and adventure.
Inspiration, like a fountain, erupted with the brilliance of fireworks. Emotions became notes, waves of passion surged forth, sending shivers from his toes to the top of his head, electrifying every nerve.
The collision of his fingers with the piano keys burst forth with an unbelievable intensity—that's the most beautiful, magical part of music.
The notes broke through the walls, shattering every barrier, echoing through the building. The Spanish-style vintage decor pulled his thoughts into the flow of time, and in the blink of an eye, he was lost in it, his mind carried away by the music.
Lily's thoughts blurred as her mind was interrupted. She was a step behind before she noticed Miles striding forward. She tried to call out to him, hoping they could still work something out, but her voice caught in her throat, her thoughts still tied to the notes, swaying her spirit.
By the time she snapped back to reality, Lily found herself standing with Connor and Miles at the storeroom door, staring in awe at the scene before them.