Playback continued.
Shuying was only allowed to use her mobile phone for ten minutes each day, so during that precious window of time, she would log into the song forum and chat with a person whose username was [The Flowers Have Bloomed].
Gradually, they revealed their identities to one another, and he was a patient suffering from bone cancer. The patient told her that he admired her, as he especially loved listening to her song, and hearing those words filled Shuying with an indescribable warmth. In return, she sincerely encouraged him to stay strong and focus on his recovery.
Then one day, a message arrived. It contained only a single photograph and a needle pierced into the vein of a pale arm. Beneath the image was a short sentence.
[I may be dying... could you compose a piece of music in my name?]
Looking at the photograph, Shuying fell silent. For the first time in her young life, she truly understood the meaning of the phrase "the impermanence of life."
After a long pause, she quietly replied.
And at that very moment, everyone watching understood. Within Shuying's heart, a tiny seed had finally begun to sprout, and she had finally realized what music was truly meant for.
The playback continued.
A voice message from him appeared on her screen, and inside was a melody he softly hummed. [I hope... it's this tune.]
Silence.
Everything around her seemed to fall silent.
No noise.
No distractions.
Shuying's heart pounded with nervous excitement as she pressed play. For the first time, she doubted herself. She was afraid she wouldn't be able to fulfill the dying wish entrusted to her. She feared disappointing someone who might not have much time left.
Then, his voice emerged from the speaker. It was hoarse, distant, and ethereal, as though he were standing alone beneath an endless sky, gently humming into his phone. His tone was soft, almost genderless. Almost weightless.
The humming formed the prelude, and his voice resembled the wind of early winter, blowing across a lonely youth standing by himself. It was hoarse. Desolate and lonely. Every echo carried exhaustion and resignation.
As Little Shuying listened, a vivid scene unfolded before her eyes. A young patient lay quietly on a hospital bed, gazing out the window.
He was still so young.
He didn't want to die.
He still carried countless dreams.
He wanted to visit the city.
He wanted to witness the flowers blooming with his own eyes.
Yet all of those wishes could only be transformed into this lonely melody, scattering into the wind like snowflakes.
Perhaps no one would ever remember that during those bitterly cold and solitary years, there had once been a young man quietly whispering his final monologue to the world.
Shuying slowly closed her eyes as she completely immersed herself in the emotions carried by his voice. The humming continued while the young man sent line after line.
Remnant flowers fall into the night.
Wild grass buried beneath the snow.
Even the deep snow still remembers love.
Only then can spring return.
The instant those four lines reached her ears, something inside her shattered, and a tear silently rolled down Shuying's cheek. It was the first time she had ever cried because of music.
His voice was unmistakably youthful. Clear and pure while also heartbreakingly beautiful. So unforgettable that it engraved itself into her soul.
Precisely because he was still so young, every trace of sorrow hidden within his voice carried the fragile breath of a life standing on the edge of death. The melody was lonely and cold, yet impossibly beautiful.
Inside Shuying's imagination, she could clearly see a young boy standing before the vast world. Looking toward the distant horizon, he whispered mournfully,
I haven't bloomed yet.
No one has seen the light I'm capable of shining.
I'm still a white dove trapped inside a cage.
There was no resentment in his voice, only quiet regret. Only a gentle sigh mourning the cruel impermanence of fate.
And with every passing verse... the song became even more heartbreaking.
"Thank you! I finally understand what music means! I can hear it now! I finally understand what a melody truly is!"
At that moment, Shuying wiped away the tears from her face. Even now, the mournful tune continued echoing endlessly within her heart.
On that silent night beneath the pale moonlight, Shuying completely cast aside her worries about whether her piano skills were good enough. In their place remained only unwavering determination and a brilliance unlike anything she had ever possessed before.
Because at this moment, his voice was unimaginably beautiful. It was like a cry echoing across the darkness. Clear and pure but filled with unbearable sorrow.
May you always be well.
The Flowers Have Bloomed.
Goodbye...
Have you ever heard what true sadness sounds like? It was softer than a needle falling onto the ground. A sadness so light that it barely made a sound, yet so profound that it seemed capable of freezing a person's very bones.
It was within that indescribable sorrow... that Little Shuying's extraordinary gift for the piano finally awakened. All of her hesitation disappeared, and only conviction remained.
This was the first playback perspective. Inside a small bedroom, a little girl clutched her flip phone tightly, listening with complete fascination as the tears on her face slowly dried. Her eyes grew brighter and stronger, then more determined with every passing note.
No one could have imagined... That because of the humming of a terminally ill patient, Shuying would step onto the path that would one day make her one of the world's greatest piano artists.