There is an old mailbox in Old Record Street. The mailbox is sealed with wrinkled cardboard and three words are written on it - "Acceptance". When Xiao He passed by, he inserted a note: What message did you leave? Three days later, there was a four-bar melody in the mailbox, with a beat deliberately dropped in the middle. He changed the falling beat into a rest and added a line: Rest is not silence, it is to let the sound in front live a little longer.
From that day on, the two began a lengthy anonymous correspondence. He wrote Beethoven's Fugue Requiem, and she responded to the wrong notes in Chopin's Nocturne. He didn't know who she was, he only knew that there were unfinished words hidden in her melody. She also didn't know that the person who replied every time was losing the sound in his right ear day by day.
He is the piano genius She was a talented girl who was overwhelmed by expectations. She had been playing the piano for more than ten years. Everyone said she played well, but no one asked her - what do you want to play? Later, they played the piano across the wall, recognized each other under the moonlight, hugged under the cherry blossom tree, and played the piano side by side in the morning light piano room. He kept each of her letters in an iron box, and she found her name on the side of his piano case.
"Back then I could still hear everything, but I didn't know who to play it to. Now I know."
This is a story about rests. Not all voices need to be heard by everyone. Some voices just need to be remembered by the right person. Rest is not silence - it is knowing that someone is on the other side of the rest, waiting for you.
Intention: Not all voices need to be heard by others, some voices only need to be remembered by the right person. Rest is not silence - it is knowing that someone is on the other side of the rest, also waiting for you