I Became a Plagiarizing Composer in Another World Chapter 23

Chapter 23

 

“What do you mean by debut?”

“Ah.”

I explained my plan to Erdi.

“Let’s hold a concert here.”

Edward clapped his hands at my suggestion.

“That’s a great idea. It would be especially meaningful in a remote village like this, where it’s hard to experience music.”

However, Erdi didn’t seem enthusiastic.

“Me, sir?”

“Are you nervous?”

“With you here, how could I possibly be the one to stand on stage?”

So lacking in confidence.

I couldn’t tell if it was due to humility or shyness.

Erdi’s skill level is good enough that he wouldn’t be embarrassed to hold a solo recital immediately.

 

“I won’t force you if you don’t want to do it.”

But.

“If you don’t, the people in this village might never get to hear music in their lifetime.

That would be too tragic, don’t you think?”

Edward chuckled at my blatant attempt at persuasion.

With pressure like this, he had no choice but to accept.

“…I understand. I’ll do it.”

Very good.

“To be honest, if you refused, I was thinking of performing myself. Were you that eager to stand on stage?”

“Hahaha.”

Once again, only Edward laughed.

After getting Erdi’s agreement, I went to see the village head.

He readily agreed when I explained the situation.

Now, everything was in Erdi’s hands.

***

‘What piece should I play?’

Erdi was deep in thought.

He had practiced and mastered many pieces while training with the young master.

He even brought all the sheet music with him.

He sorted through some of them and laid them on the bed.

He carefully examined them one by one.

Sonatina, Little Nocturne, and so on—each piece had a different title.

All of them came from the young master’s mind.

He was undoubtedly a genius blessed by the heavens.

He deliberately excluded the more difficult and flashy pieces.

He might make mistakes if he tried to play them.

‘But what is this?’

There was a sheet of music labelled with thin letters, “Elize.”

‘Why is the Crown Princess’s name written here?’

He had no idea why.

It was too awkward to ask, so he decided to ignore it.

After some time deliberating, he finally chose one.

Minuet.’

 

**T/n: Minuet: A classical dance piece in 3/4 time, characterized by its graceful and elegant movements. Often performed in formal settings, it was popular in the 18th century among European aristocracy.**

 

It’s a piece with an elegant and lively melody that he enjoyed playing.

Although short, it was a perfect choice for a village concert.

He loosened up his fingers in preparation.

It had been a while since he last touched a piano, so his confidence was slightly shaken.

Thinking he should sneak out and practice, he awaited the dawn of the next morning with nervous anticipation.

***

The village centre.

People gathered in the wide-open space, murmuring and exchanging their opinions.

“Is that what they call a piano?”

“It’s bigger than I thought.”

“So it was true what the village head said. They really are artists staying at the inn.”

Edward, along with a few villagers, helped move the piano.

There wasn’t an actual stage, so they flattened the dirt ground and spread a thick cloth over it.

“This should do. Thank you.”

“We look forward to your performance.”

Before they knew it, people had formed a circle around the piano.

There weren’t many—about fifty people in total.

The person with the brightest eyes was, of course, Diana.

‘I get to hear it! The piano!’

Just seeing the object she had only read about in books was overwhelming enough, and now she had the chance to hear it played live.

It felt like a dream come true.

Her excitement soared.

And just as she felt like her heart would burst from anticipation, the performer finally appeared.

***

Erdi sat down in front of the piano.

He was visibly nervous.

But he still managed to look composed.

With a proper outfit, he could easily pass as my stand-in.

 

“I’m looking forward to Erdi’s performance,” Edward said.

 

He hadn’t seen Erdi play the piano often.

His curiosity was understandable.

 

“You’ll be amazed.”

 

“He’s the young master’s student, so he’ll do just fine.”

 

“Student?”

Is that how others see it?

Well, it’s not exactly wrong.

Finally, the performance began.

Minuet.

Although attributed to Johann Sebastian Bach, it was actually composed by Christian Petzold as a dance piece in 3/4 time.

The sheet music was found in a music notebook belonging to Bach’s wife, which led to the original composer being misattributed.

Even I remember learning it as a piece by Bach in my elementary school textbook.

Anyway.

This simple yet elegant and memorable melody, paired with a charming rhythm, makes for an appealing piece.

Additionally, it’s not difficult to play.

With a few basic techniques, one can easily perform the entire piece.

But because of that, one must focus even more on expressiveness.

‘Good choice of music.’

The right and left hands converse with each other, exchanging melodies as they progress forward.

It brings to mind an image of a grand ballroom filled with nobles dancing joyfully.

This piece transcends technique or flamboyance, delivering pure joy through melody alone.

The refreshing flow of the piece, neither too slow nor too fast, leaves a warm sense of tranquillity and resonance in the hearts of the audience gathered around the piano.

The reason a piece like the Minuet is so special is because it always evokes new emotions within a familiar melody.

Sometimes it feels joyous, and other times it evokes sadness.

It’s truly a fascinating thing.

What I’m feeling right now is a mix of both—an emotional bittersweetness, perhaps?

Erdi stood up from his seat and bowed after finishing his performance.

“Thank you very much.”

The audience smiled and applauded warmly.

I don’t know what kind of feelings are blossoming in their hearts right now.

I can only hope it was a pleasant experience for them.

“Well done. It was a wonderful performance.”

I praised Erdi as he stepped off the stage.

Though, calling it a “stage” is a bit much—it’s just a piece of cloth spread out on the dirt road. But isn’t that part of the charm of busking?

“It’s nerve-wracking and exhausting to perform in front of people. I think I finally understand you, young master. I truly respect you.”

“Stop saying things you don’t mean.”

Though he said that, his expression looked brighter than ever, as if he was quite pleased with himself.

While we were chatting, the village head approached us.

“I don’t know how I could possibly repay this kindness.”

“Kindness? That’s too much. Please, it’s nothing.”

“Our village is so remote that we rarely have the chance to hear music. Even for me, this is the first time I’ve heard a piano performance in all of my sixty years.”

Erdi was the one to respond to the village head.

“We’re the lucky ones to have come across this village.”

He meant that it was they who should be grateful.

A performer is nothing without an audience.

Just look at a football match played in an empty stadium—don’t the players lose their morale?

If there’s no one to listen, no matter how great the music is, it’s just a meaningless sequence of notes.

I reminded myself of my goal in this other world once more.

‘To elevate the quality of culture people can enjoy.’

To achieve that.

‘Spread good music to as many people as possible.’

For music to advance, there must first be music, and there must be people to create that music.

Lastly, there must be an audience to appreciate it.

If any one of these is missing, we’re back at square one.

The plan is progressing steadily.

Perhaps one day, an artist will emerge from this very village.

The seed has been sown today by Erdi’s hands.

Sure enough—

“Wow! That was amazing! So this is what a piano is…! It felt like my ears were melting…!”

Diana Pierce.

“D-Do you think I could learn to play someday?”

Erdi answered her question.

“There will surely be an opportunity.”

Yes.

We must make that happen.

Suppressing the swell of emotions in my heart, we returned to the inn.

***

The Next Morning.

“Thank you for everything.”

After saying our goodbyes to the innkeeper, we stepped outside.

The villagers were gathered in front of the carriage.

The village head bowed deeply.

“I wish you a safe journey.”

“Thank you.”

A bittersweet farewell.

It was a brief encounter, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget the memories of this village.

“Let’s get going again!”

Thus, after a month and 14 days of endless travel.

We arrived at the maritime trading city under Margrave Rosley’s rule.

“Hmm?”

“Oh my.”

My first impression was… the worst.

“Is this really the place?”

I asked Edward, and he nodded silently.

Erdi unfolded the map and showed it to me.

“It’s definitely the right place. We even saw signs along the way.”

“It’s pretty desolate for a trading city.”

And that was the perfect way to describe it.

A cold wind blew from the entrance.

There was a port nearby, so we made our way there.

But we didn’t see a single person around.

The lighthouse in the distance was unlit.

Is this really it?

Edward’s explanation had painted a picture of a lively southern town.

But what we were seeing was completely different.

It felt like visiting an abandoned theme park that had gone bankrupt.

‘Could it be?’

Just then, someone approached us.

It was a man with a thick beard.

“What brings you to this place?”

Edward responded.

“Nice to meet you. We are a group of performers from the capital. We were invited here by the Margrave, who received our letter in advance.”

“Ah! Is that so?”

The man bowed politely once more and guided us.

Eventually, a large mansion appeared in front of us.

 

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