The Overbearing CEO Is Driven Mad by His Frail Canary 61

Chapter 61

The cake looked pretty good.

Xia Wansheng took a picture and saved it in his photo album as a memento.

Then he turned off his phone screen and started thinking about a gift.

It was too late to prepare anything now, and he hadn’t brought anything with him.

He searched his memories for any suitable ideas.

He decided to skip his post-graduation memories.

Ever since starting that dreadful job, he felt like his creativity was being drained, only replenished slightly on payday.

His school days weren’t particularly interesting, just the usual classes and part-time jobs on weekends to cover his living expenses.

Most of the subsidy money never reached him; he always had to plan for his future.

The only noteworthy event was during his first year of high school when the school, under pressure from above, suddenly decided to focus on developing students’ “moral, intellectual, physical, aesthetic, and labor” qualities, forcing some culture into their dreary lives.

The quickest results weren’t in sports or art, but music.

That was when Xia Wansheng learned about music theory.

The first part of their final exam was ear training, and that was when he discovered his perfect pitch.

His music teacher was amazed, saying his talent was perfect for learning an instrument, and he could even go to a better university through the arts.

After testing him in other areas and confirming his overall potential, she asked:

“Are you interested in becoming my student?”

His music teacher was an elderly woman in her sixties, still teaching despite her age, her white hair contrasting with her energetic spirit.

Having taught countless students over the decades, she was confident in her ability to help them achieve their dreams and get into their desired universities.

Xia Wansheng wanted to agree, of course, but reality was often cruel, granting him talent and presenting a golden opportunity,

But also burdening him with exorbitant tuition fees he couldn’t afford, and the potential consequences of failure.

After a long silence, he declined.

He didn’t have the courage to pursue his dreams.

“Sorry, teacher, I’m not really interested in music, I just performed well this time.” Xia Wansheng pretended to be indifferent.

The teacher wanted to persuade him further, but seeing his insistence on focusing on his studies, she could only sigh and give up.

“It’s fine, music is a good hobby,” she said, then pulled out a neatly folded ticket from her drawer,

“A former student of mine is holding a concert nearby, he gave me a few tickets, you can go if you’re free this weekend and say hello for me.”

“It’s been raining recently, my legs aren’t good, I don’t want to go out.” She said slowly, placing her hand on her knee.

Xia Wansheng was about to decline, but after taking the ticket, he saw the address, it was the place he had a part-time job.

No wonder they were hiring, they were holding a large-scale event.

“Thank you, I’ll go.” He replied sincerely.

Although he knew he wouldn’t have the chance to study under her, this was the first time he had felt such genuine recognition.

These were the moments that made life worth living.

Xia Wansheng closed the office door behind him and returned to the quiet classroom.

He folded the sheet music and tucked it into his textbook, as if hiding his talent and dreams once more.

The concert was a grand and spectacular event.

The performer on stage was said to be a young prodigy, a genius since the age of fourteen, now holding a national tour before even reaching adulthood.

“What kind of talent is this? If my child had this gift, I would be overjoyed.” A music teacher who had brought her child to the concert sighed after speaking.

“It’s not just about talent, it requires years of hard work, I heard seven or eight hours of practice every day is just the basics, and you need to be able to afford a good teacher…”

It was the intermission. The two continued their conversation, and Xia Wansheng zoned out.

He wasn’t envious, he was just grateful to be able to witness this.

But he wondered if he should do something, at least leave a memento for his future self.

How about… writing a song?

The light in the courtyard was dim, the moon seemingly having lost a fight with the clouds and not showing up for work tonight.

The match quickly struck against the red phosphorus, a warm flame igniting.

“Why are we using matches to light candles?” Xia Wansheng asked, puzzled.

It had been a while since he had seen such a formal ritual, he almost forgot this was a CEO’s house.

There would probably be random props scattered around, like yellowed envelopes, face-down photo frames, and the second button from the top of a school uniform, closest to the heart…

And of course, fir wood matches airlifted from Sicily, Italy.

Such extravagance.

“I didn’t store them properly, these matches are a bit damp, I wanted to see if they still worked,” Yu Congyan said casually, “Seems fine.”

Xia Wansheng thought, that’s a plausible excuse.

If Yu Congyan hadn’t casually asked if he wanted to visit the origin of these fir trees, he would have almost believed him.

The candle flame flickered, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the courtyard.

“Make a wish.” Xia Wansheng reminded him to close his eyes.

He had finally found a dusty guitar tucked away on the top shelf of the bookcase in the bedroom.

Its tone was similar to the one he had found in the abandoned music room years ago.

Recalling the melody wasn’t difficult, but he wasn’t sure if he could play it in front of Yu Congyan.

“Don’t open your eyes yet,” Xia Wansheng looked at the flickering candlelight, hoping it would last a bit longer and not drip wax onto the cake.

“I… have a gift for you.”

A melody written by a sixteen-year-old boy for his future self, one of the highlights of his life.

The first note from the long-unused guitar strings was clear and bright.

Like a ripple across a calm lake.

Yu Congyan remained silent, sensing this gift was important to Xia Wansheng.

The last note faded away.

The melody wasn’t very long. Xia Wansheng was relieved he hadn’t made any mistakes,

“I wrote this in high school, I couldn’t think of anything else, I’ll get you another gift tomorrow…”

Xia Wansheng was about to put away the guitar and eat the cake when he realized his actions seemed like a confession and quickly added a few words.

Hopefully, Yu Congyan would just treat this as an ordinary birthday gift.

He checked the cake and saw that despite the flickering flames, the candles hadn’t gone out.

“It’s beautiful,” Yu Congyan blew out the candles, his tone filled with genuine curiosity, “Since it’s a birthday gift, will I have the chance to hear you play it again?”

He seemed to truly care about this.

Xia Wansheng, who was about to hand him the cake knife, froze, then, pretending to think about it, said: “Should I record it for you? Or make a vinyl record? I saw an old record player in the storage room.”

Yu Congyan：……

He should have asked Housekeeper Zhang to throw away all that junk in the storage room.

“That’s not what I meant…” he tried to explain.

He just wanted to know if Xia Wansheng intended to stay, or if he would have another chance to hear this melody again.

“I know,” Xia Wansheng chuckled, “I’ve tried that record player, it’s rusty and unusable.”

He was just joking.

“Let’s eat the cake, I replaced the mango filling with strawberry,” Xia Wansheng’s tone was casual,

“You said you didn’t like mangoes, right?”

Yu Congyan paused, he had realized Xia Wansheng knew about his mango allergy, so he had said he simply didn’t like them.

“I just didn’t like them before, I can try them now,” he reached for the mango tart in front of Xia Wansheng,

“Can I have one?”

He smiled, satisfied with the other person’s instantly tense expression.