musicians of old

Chapter 730 Aftershocks

Outside the Bayreuth Theatre.

When the residual heat of the B major tone stream that finally resolved the "Death of Love" dissipated in the air, the gas street lamps in the entire free town of Franconia suddenly exploded collectively!

This was not just an illusion rising in the heads of the townspeople, but a real thing, because the spiritual explosion in the theater had reached a level that the space could no longer contain and dissipate. The mysterious atmosphere that swept out had a visible impact on real things!

In fact, not only the northern town, but also the whole city of San Perto had completely exploded with the fanatical atmosphere that had been buried in advance. The bronze bell of the town hall was struck by the frenzied citizens, and the pendulum repeatedly shook off the dust on the colored windows of the churches. The light box billboards of the Piodoro Winery lit up in dozens of parishes, and the flames of the "Night Duet" and "Love Death" red wine slogans dyed the spires of buildings amber. Beside the fountain pool in the city square, drunken artists and poets cried and laughed, and the pages of the "Prelude" score were accidentally dropped, and they knelt by the pool and tried their best to salvage them, embracing the wet and cold in their arms.

Also, it's weird.

It was so late, and the performance had already ended, but the citizens of the holy city were still rushing to the theater.

“Snap!” “Snap!!”

Coachmen in the streets and alleys whipped their horses frantically, and the wheels rolled over the ground covered with chocolate or candy gold foil printed with various leitmotif notes.

The 20,000 "Music and Drama Energy Packs" released in advance by the Genevieve Candy Factory have already been reserved by people with connections. In addition, there are also two types of "limited viewing version" for VIP seats on site and "cast and crew supply version" provided to the backstage of the theater. Normally, most of the above-mentioned people will not choose to throw away the gold foil paper with extraordinary commemorative significance after eating it, and even whether they are willing to finish it is a problem. Most of the ones scattered on the ground now are from other manufacturers who are "taking advantage of the popularity", but it is not ruled out that there are some that slip through the net. Many citizens are now comically squatting, picking up and checking everywhere like scavengers - using the identification methods they heard from the grapevine.

"Hey! Man! Watch the road! Watch the road!"

“Who is this? Putting your butt in the corner of the blind spot!?”

"Damn it. Who threw something from the sky again!?"

The coachmen, whose vision was blocked in various inexplicable ways, screamed at the top of their lungs.

Citizens crowded around a wall hung with a huge performance poster, vying to leave wet paint words in the area that was most conducive to writing and viewing, such as "All great art is born from violent destruction" and so on.

Millions of pieces of paper were swirling in the sky.

Newsboys in peaked caps climbed up the fire escape on the main road and threw down "Extra Edition" leaflets from major newspapers and magazines.

Yes, it was just a "leaflet of "Extra Edition"", not "Extra Edition" itself, because the only thing they had to do now was to let the first-hand information produced by their own media reach the eyes of the citizens. As for printing the magazine step by step, or earning a few coins by selling it, it was ridiculous!

"Wow, wow, wow."

The words printed on the titles, such as "Tristan and Isolde - the last elegy of the Romantic era", had not yet dried in ink when they turned into black butterflies in the night wind.

“Get out of the way! Let the camera of Hoffmann’s Phonograph be aimed at the front door!”

"Authorized! We are authorized!!"

All eyes once again returned to the entrance of the Bayreuth Theater. Rows upon rows of black-clad bodyguards formed a human wall, but they still could not stop the flood of reporters.

The fur-coated editor-in-chief of the San Pereto Illustrated News had to find another way: he stepped on the back of his assistant and held up the spotlight.

"Kacha kacha kacha——"

In the bursts of bright light, he photographed the gold-plated stretched luxury car of the Gugova Group driving out from the side door. The nameplates on the car body that should have been inlaid with "Tristan's same ruby ​​necklace" and "Isolde's same sapphire ring" were missing, and were replaced by countless scratches from fingernails.

"Bang!" "Bang!" The crisp sound of champagne corks popping on the balcony on the third floor.

The young academic girl who played Isolde was very young and had not yet graduated from public school. Although she was usually the center of attention, she had never seen a scene of this level in her life.

Faced with a large group of spectators below who were pushing and shoving each other with their arms stretched out, she finally couldn't help but throw the bottle out subconsciously at some point.

The "Death of Love" liquor drew a dark red arc under the light, and a fight immediately broke out below. The noble butler in white gloves and the pastry chef in oilcloth apron wrestled with each other, just to fight for a piece of glass shard soaked with the aroma of wine opened by the heroine herself.

Within ten meters away from this scene.

Fanning took off her champagne-soaked white gloves, threw them into a wastebasket nearby, and then turned the silver-plated valve on the sink.

"Wow, wow, wow."

Hot water flows out and fingers are crossed.

During the four or five seconds of simply cleaning his hands, he looked up at the mirror in front of him - it had just been cracked by a group of audience members who "beat up" the actor Tristan not long ago - the person in the mirror was smiling, the kind of perfect smile that was tempered by more than ten thousand applause, and the elegant curve of the lips was accurate to the millimeter.

The invisible power of "Candle" evaporated the moisture instantly, and Fan Ning turned around and took a step forward.

The crowd rushed forward again, like a magnet attracting all the iron filings in its path.

"Fanning commands, just two sentences!!"

The man who looked like an executive and was wearing a high-necked gray jacket, his head standing out from the crowd was at the same height as the slender waist of a lady next to him. It was hard to imagine what position his lower body was in.

"First, Khayyam Films wants to make the movie Tristan & Isolde. Second, the condition is that we have to pay for the production - our company will give up all the box office profits during the first round of releases!"

"How do you view the relationship between art and capital? A one-word answer will do!" Macaulay, the editor-in-chief of The Noise, who came across the ocean from Theolian, stretched the microphone towards Fanning with all his strength, but dropped it within a second.

"Master Fanning, why is such a work only 'The Eve of the Celebration'? How can we expect you to perform in the next seven days?"

"I want to verify the origin of our concertmaster's 'Sol Ruby'!"

"Some scholars have pointed out that the Turner Art Academy Examination Syllabus you compiled is actually building a 'digital church' in the field of art evaluation. What is your response to this view?"

“May I ask whether the music works included in the syllabus are selected by the theaters themselves or guided by the discussion group?”

"."

The spotlights flashed wildly, lighting up the eyes of reporters and celebrities.

The invisible force of the "key" is always secretly exerting an influence on pushing the crowd, so that the passage in front remains more than one meter wide.

Fanning kept smiling as her leather shoes continued to roll over the petals and ribbons on the red carpet.