Chapter 27: Exodus

Zhang Chao, trembling all over, pulled out his phone, gesturing for everyone to remain silent, and hurriedly pressed the record button.

Meanwhile, Liao Yuan closed his eyes, placed his hands at the center of the black and white keys, and began to play the first scale.

In the next instant, it was as if a great bell had tolled at dawn or dusk.

The notes that arose stirred the souls of all present, making them shudder involuntarily. In their minds, it was as if a voice was chanting.

It seemed as though a massive tome of the Holy Bible was slowly unfolding in the sky. Countless golden Sanskrit characters floated off its pages, each radiating an ancient and boundless aura, casting light upon the dark earth.

Sweeping across the sky, yellow sands danced in the dying light of the sun, and in the distance, thousands upon thousands of ragged Jews, led by Moses, pressed onward through the endless golden sea of sand...

The tragic yet rousing melody conjured countless images, looping through Liao Yuan's mind. The scales beneath his hands surged like the rising and falling tide, tumbling and roaring forward—so grand, so unstoppable.

Moses, founder of Judaism, the prophet revered by all, led the enslaved Hebrews into the desert, escaping the havoc of Egypt’s wars for the promised homeland. Yet, after more than forty years of arduous wandering, he died just as they were about to reach their destination.

A faint sorrow lingered in the air.

Liao Yuan’s hands soared across all eighty-eight keys, pouring forth a cascade of notes—majestic and vast, yet winding and delicate.

As if within despair, there was infinite vitality!

Beneath the swirling sands, the enslaved people broke their shackles, and with unwavering resolve and pride, strode out of Egypt’s land, vowing never to return!

Let the coarse, wild sand batter their faces.

Let the raging winds pierce their bones.

Let their parched throats endure the searing heat.

Let the lone wolf atop the mountain howl its fury.

In this moment, no one could hinder their longing to return to the sacred land—no one could ever again steal away their freedom!

It was as though, in the unseen realm, a deity was chanting.

Once more, Liao Yuan’s fingertips wove a sacred radiance, and as he played with lightning speed, light seemed to shimmer from his touch.

The sheer emotion of the scene moved Zhang Chao and the others to tears.

This was the power of music!

In the distance, the familiar mountains of home were beginning to emerge!

Children, run with all your might!

The scent of that long-lost homeland drifted on the wind!

Beloved home, wait for me!

I am about to return to your embrace, never again to be parted from you!

Liao Yuan raised his head; though his hands no longer danced as swiftly as before, every note he pressed was powerful and unyielding.

As his emotions soared, a single tear slipped from his closed eyes.

His body swayed like seaweed in the current, unable to resist the rhythm.

In this moment, he was utterly immersed in the images flooding his mind.

It was as if he himself were one of the enslaved Hebrews, lost in the long procession, enduring suffering beyond mortal comprehension.

Wild winds!

Torrential rain!

Dark clouds!

Thunder and lightning!

No matter how fierce the storm, it could not shake the travelers’ determination and resolve!

Until at last the clouds dispersed, and the first light of dawn appeared at the horizon...

Liao Yuan’s arms slowed, and through a haze of tears, he seemed to see the white-robed Moses at the head of the column, casting aside his staff in excitement, opening his arms to welcome the winds of home!

In that instant, the sky blazed with radiant clouds!

Finally, the music came to an end.

Zhang Chao could not hold back his tears and exclaimed, “Serene as a maiden, wild as a leaping hare—sir, you are truly a genius of our age! It is hard to imagine someone of your years possessing such magical, almost otherworldly mastery. To know you is my great honor!”

Liao Yuan withdrew his hands from the keys, the dampness at the corners of his eyes leaving him dazed once more. He looked at his hands, feeling the blood surging within him, and could not help but wonder, What’s happening to me?

In his previous life, though he was passionate about playing, never before had he poured his whole being into every piece as he did now. Each performance seemed to immerse his very soul in another dimension, where he played the story from a god’s-eye view or as a participant himself.

The melodies that flowed from his fingertips were so charged with emotion that he felt completely transported, unable to break free.

“Master, what is the name of this piece?” Zhang Chao asked, unable to hold back as Liao Yuan remained silent.

Liao Yuan returned to himself and, seeing everyone gazing at him with tearful eyes, smiled and answered, “Exodus.”

“Exo—what?” Zhang Chao looked baffled. Was there really a piece with that name?

Liao Yuan was speechless.

Miao Bizhu, half-laughing, half-crying, explained, “Manager, he said ‘Exodus’!”

“Oh, oh!” Zhang Chao replied, his face flushing with embarrassment. “Sorry, I was just so moved. Even now, I feel the vast and majestic notes echoing in my ears. So it’s called ‘Exodus’—excellent, excellent! Master, did you compose this piece yourself? It’s incredible! It fits perfectly with the story of Zhang Qian’s mission to the Western Regions! When I was listening, I kept thinking of our glorious Han dynasty, more than two thousand years ago—the brilliance of that civilization, the greatness of its people! Especially the moment my ancestor first set out to the West, it kept appearing in my mind!”

The others looked on in admiration as well.

“Amazing, a true grand pianist’s performance is something else!”

“Manager, please send me the recording too? I have to learn this piece!”

“This is definitely a composition worthy of being remembered through the ages!”

“‘Exodus’ isn’t a very catchy name. I think it should be called ‘Zhang Qian’s Journey to the West’ instead!”

Hearing this, Zhang Chao suddenly had a revelation. “Yes, yes, master! Since you composed this piece, why not call it ‘Journey to the Western Regions’ or ‘Leaving the West’? That would fit the atmosphere of ‘The Emperor of Han Wu’ much better, give the people greater imagination, and most importantly, increase the chances of the piece being accepted! Director Zhang will love it too!”

By now, Liao Yuan had composed himself and stood up. “To me, it will always be called ‘Exodus.’ The piece is inspired by the biblical figure Moses, who led the Hebrews to escape slavery in ancient Egypt in search of their homeland. It is this historical background that gives ‘Exodus’ its grand scale. Of course, music is infinitely varied, and in each listener’s heart it will show a different face. So, the name doesn’t matter; what matters is the work itself.”