186-188

Chapter 186: Iron-Fisted Transformation 

Realizing he’d been caught badmouthing someone “to their face,” Cliff turned his head to look at Ronan, offering a fawning smile as if trying to prove his innocence: it was all Maxim, not me, Mr. Holmes, you know the truth, right? 

Ronan also gave Cliff a smile, the kind of tight-lipped expression that showed his clean, even teeth, reminding Cliff of Professor Hannibal Lecter from "The Silence of the Lambs." 

But immediately after, Ronan got back to work. 

"Cliff, and Maxim too, it's about the emotion. You two need to pay attention to releasing the emotion. What's the feeling at the beginning of 'Chasing the Light'? It's the struggle and confusion of being in the darkest moment, while also feeling the grandeur of the world collapsing. So, the emotion has to be expressed through the melody." 

Musical instruments can sense the performer's emotions and inject them into the notes. 

At the beginning of "Chasing the Light," the drums must showcase the weight and grandeur of the entire world, the whole momentum needs to settle down. The keyboard and strings, on the other hand, must be light and airy, displaying an ethereal vastness, like spreading wings and soaring into the sky, making the listener involuntarily look up. 

These are two different textures, demanding different things from the performers. Otherwise, the "architectural feel" Ronan was hoping for wouldn't be enough just by showing layers through the arrangement. 

"You need to release your emotions, truly feel the freedom of opening your hearts and soaring freely. Playing it blandly has no life force at all, it's basically ruining the song. We're not on our last legs; we're still refusing to give up hope in the darkness, still fighting." 

Ronan gave more detailed instructions, clearly dissatisfied with Maxim and Cliff's playing. 

Cliff's first reaction was, "What about Ollie?" 

Usually, Ollie was the one who made the most mistakes during practice, but today he hadn't been called out? 

"Ollie is doing great," Ronan's voice came from the microphone into the recording booth. They could see Ollie raising his hands high in a celebratory gesture, which brought a smile to Ronan's eyes. He didn't add any further comments, just said, "Start from the beginning." 

The atmosphere in the recording booth subtly changed, especially Maxim's competitive spirit, which seemed to have finally kicked in, as if he had finally entered recording mode. 

However, Ronan today seemed... not so easily satisfied – and that was a very mild description. To be precise, he was being picky, or even more precisely, demanding. 

"Cliff, the gradual build-up of power and emotion. The first four beats: thump! thump-thump-thump! thump! thump-thump-thump! The first note must release the emotion, and then your fingers quickly leave the keys, so you can feel the lightness of the air rushing in. Then the melody flows out like water. When you enter the second four beats, the first note needs to be even heavier than the first note of the previous four beats, but when you release it, the fingertip pressure needs to be even lighter." 

"Thump! Inject the emotion! Feel the pause! Feel the release! Thump-thump-thump! Feel it with your heart!" 

"No, redo the first four beats." 

"No, try it again." 

"Wrong." 

"Still wrong." 

"Cliff, let's try it again." 

Just the first two eight-bar phrases had been repeated eight times, but there was still no progress. Right now, only Cliff was playing. Maxim and Ollie were both watching quietly, and Ronan wasn't recording, but was having Cliff practice continuously. 

Ronan's tone remained gentle and calm. He wasn't angry at all and was incredibly patient, but the sharp glint in his eyes didn't waver in the slightest. Like a machine, he had Cliff repeat the practice over and over again. That invisible pressure slowly built up and then came crashing down. 

Cliff also started to get agitated. "Release? What do you mean by release? This is a complete four beats, there's no rest in it at all. How exactly am I supposed to release? How am I supposed to control the rhythm? Are you sure you know what you're doing? Are you sure you know what you want?" 

Even the best temper would get irritated by repeatedly going around in circles, let alone Cliff, whose temper wasn't exactly mild. Moreover, Ronan had indeed established a certain professional authority within the band, but this professionalism wasn't something that couldn't be challenged or overturned. 

Don't forget, just three months ago, Cliff and Maxim still held the power in the band, and Cliff was still the band leader. 

So, Cliff directly blew up, his face flushed as he glared at Ronan, venting all his dissatisfaction unrestrainedly. 

"How exactly am I supposed to release the emotion? You tell me! If you can describe it so detailedly and clearly, why don't you just demonstrate it for me?" 

Cliff was indeed a bit annoyed, especially since Maxim and Ollie were just watching from the sidelines, while he was the only one being pushed out and put on the spot. He had reason to suspect that Ronan was deliberately retaliating because he had chosen "Born This Way" today! 

Ronan didn't slam the table and start yelling back at Cliff. Instead, he remained calm, just quietly letting Cliff voice all his thoughts. The way he listened intently made Cliff slowly feel uneasy, as if... as if all his anger was being accepted. 

A faint chill ran down his spine. 

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"Okay." After waiting for Cliff to vent all his emotions, Ronan didn't say much else and simply agreed. 

Cliff, "..." 

Actually, Cliff didn't really expect Ronan to demonstrate, because he himself knew how absurd that request was. 

A producer has their own ideas about the perfect music they envision, but that doesn't necessarily mean they can perfectly perform it themselves. That's why producers need to guide the performers to reach the goal. The outburst of "if you can do it, you do it" is a simple and crude form of denial. Maybe Ronan couldn't do it, but that didn't mean Ronan didn't know what he was doing. Producers have their professionalism, and singers/bands have theirs. That's the meaning of division of labor and cooperation. 

Cliff's outburst was just an impulsive venting of frustration because he couldn't do it himself, which made it seem unreasonable. But the fact that Ronan actually agreed put Cliff in a bit of a bind. The words got stuck in his throat, and his expression was a bit awkward. 

Thinking about it again, Cliff really hadn't been able to find the right way. Actually, Maxim and Ollie were also a bit off, but their problems weren't as prominent as Cliff's. After all, the introductory part of "Chasing the Light" still needed the keyboard and strings to play the main role. Now that he had asked Ronan to demonstrate, and Ronan had agreed, maybe this was a good thing. 

If Ronan couldn't do it either, then Cliff would feel more at ease. If Ronan could do it, then Cliff would have a learning model to follow. 

Although Cliff was also a bit flustered, he suppressed the urge to ask Maxim and Ollie for help and watched as Ronan also walked into the recording booth. 

Chapter 187: A Cold Chill Down the Spine 

For Ronan, keyboards and guitars were not difficult; they were his forte. 

But the point wasn't about which instrument it was, nor whether Ronan was skilled at it. The key was that Ronan knew how to convey emotions through playing. Every breath, every pause could be felt as a surge of emotion in the touch of his fingertips—this was the key that could give life to the notes. 

Perhaps, Cliff just needed an example, and then he could find his inspiration. This was why Ronan agreed to the "challenge" and stepped forward to demonstrate. 

"...Ronan? Are you really going to demonstrate?" Ollie was incredibly surprised, looking at Ronan walking into the recording booth, his words even starting to slur. 

Maxim and Cliff also looked at Ronan, hesitating to speak, but ultimately said nothing. Only Ollie's voice echoed in the space. 

Ronan slightly raised an eyebrow, said nothing, but just glanced at Cliff. Cliff stood up, and then he went straight to the keyboard and sat down. He didn't immediately start playing "Chasing the Light," but instead slightly stretched his fingers, his fingertips flowing smoothly over the black and white keys, completing a warm-up after just two simple passes. 

He paused briefly, adjusted his breathing, which was also a signal to Cliff and his teammates that he was ready. Then, his fingertips hovered over the keys. 

Deep breath! 

Exhale! Strike the keys! Two actions completed simultaneously, merging into one. The power of his fingertips was heavily transmitted onto the black and white keys, and a vast and magnificent force instantly erupted, like the shattering of countless stars in the sky. The grandeur and vastness of the universe instantly poured down. 

Thump! 

Like a thunderclap. 

Release. 

Immediately after, his fingertips left the keys, hovering above the chaotic black and white sheen. It seemed as if the surface of his fingerprints could still feel the cold texture from the keys, corresponding to the afterimage of his fingers reflected on the keys. However, the hair-thin space ensured that no power was injected. The rolling air instantly surged in, flowing in the faint space between his fingertips and the keys, faintly capturing the lingering response of the keyboard sound in the air. 

Not a rest. 

Not even the gap of an eighth note or a sixteenth note, just a fleeting thought that vanished in an instant. Thoughts flashed quickly like colorful streamers, and breathing involuntarily stopped. Space solidified, time paused. Before he could even grasp the tail of the thought, then— 

Release! 

His fingertips fell on the keys again. It wasn't a physical pause, but a mental stagnation. However, this small stagnation allowed the emotions in his mind to slightly detach. The power released towards the keys slowly receded like a tide, evolving from the roar of the vast ocean to the flowing of a mighty river. Emotions poured down smoothly, and that sense of complete release immediately made his mood lighter. 

Then, once more— 

"Thump! Thump-thump-thump..." 

"Thump! Thump-thump-thump..." 

The power of the first syllable slowly faded; the lightness of the subsequent syllables slowly elongated, as if one could feel his fingertips lingering on the keys, slightly dragging some power, and thus extending the ethereal feeling of the notes. That feeling of soaring through the wind and embracing the vast sky with unrestrained freedom gradually became lighter. 

From heavy to light, from somber to fluid, it continued for one four-beat measure, then two. The brightness of the emotion bloomed like a rose-colored light. 

Refreshing! 

Two eight-beat measures, and Ronan finished the demonstration. He paused, but didn't immediately turn around to communicate. Instead, he sat there and pondered for a moment, explaining, as if to himself, "Wait, it still feels a bit lacking. The continuous feeling in the second half needs to be lighter, not a lingering, sentimental drag, but the clarity of a flowing spring. It needs to show the feeling of a babbling brook, possessing both fluidity and lightness." 

After speaking, Ronan took another deep breath, and his fingertips landed on the keyboard again. 

After two eight-beat measures, Ronan considered it carefully before turning to Cliff. "Hmm, just go with the feeling of the second version. But I only played two eight-beat measures, so the continuous feeling of the emotion isn't complete. You need to find your own feeling of gradual progression to perform it." 

After a moment's pause, Ronan didn't wait for Cliff's reply. He widened his eyes, looked directly at Cliff, and asked again, "Do you need me to demonstrate one more time?" 

Cliff was bathed in Ronan's gaze, which was cold and calm, without anger or threat. It was just a plain and simple question for his opinion, but an invisible, immense pressure was crushing down layer upon layer. His knees felt inexplicably weak, as if a rabbit targeted by a cheetah had ended up in a dead end, watching helplessly as the cheetah approached him step by step. 

"Glug," Cliff swallowed hard. He was startled by the sound of his own swallowing and almost jumped up, saying慌里慌张地, "No, no, no need. I... uh, I understand already." 

Ronan was very patient. "Cliff, if you still have any questions, ask them now. We can discuss and negotiate to find the right solution. Pretending to understand will only waste time and make you look even more pathetic." 

The gentle words didn't soothe Cliff's emotions; instead, cold sweat broke out on his back. "Cough, cough," he had to clear his throat. "No need, I'm serious, I already know. Let's start now, I'm ready." 

Ronan paused, seemingly scrutinizing Cliff's expression. Just as Cliff was about to suffocate, Ronan nodded slightly to indicate understanding. "Then let's try it again." After that, Ronan got up and left. 

Watching Ronan leave the recording booth, Cliff grabbed the mineral water bottle next to him and gulped down water. Even though he was in a closed space, he felt a cold draft on his back, and goosebumps rose one after another. He looked utterly disheveled. 

Cliff turned his head towards Maxim and Ollie with some embarrassment. He still wasn't used to his... appearance in front of Ronan, which seemed rather pathetic. 

Ollie was struggling to hold back his laughter, his gloating expression completely undisguised. Maxim also felt the urge to laugh and looked away. 

"Traitorous friends!" Cliff grumbled indignantly. "Just wait and see what happens to you guys!" 

But Cliff didn't dare to say anything more, because in the corner of his eye, he could already see Ronan sitting back down at the soundboard. He immediately shut his mouth, quickly sat down at the keyboard, forced a big smile, and gestured an "OK" sign to Ronan, indicating that he was ready. 

Witnessing all of this, Ollie covered his mouth with his right hand and mercilessly mocked, "Social skills: full marks." 

Cliff rolled his eyes dramatically, but before he could retort, Ronan's voice rang out in the recording booth, "Ollie, I also hope your social skills are at full marks." 

Pfft. 

Maxim bent over and buried his head, using all his strength to hold back his laughter. 

Chapter 188: Emotional Immersion 

"Wrong rhythm." 

"Dragging." 

"Rushing." 

"No, the emotion needs to be concentrated at your fingertips. The whole feeling is off right now." 

"Cliff, didn't you just say you understood everything? Let's try it again." 

"Follow me. De! De-de-de... De! De-de-de... Release, hold, release." 

"Dragging." 

"Still dragging." 

"The dragging is really bad." 

"One more time." 

Again and again. Over and over. 

The monotonous practice felt like hitting a wall, going back and forth, stuck in the same place. The person involved was drowsy, and the onlookers were bored out of their minds. However, the recording studio at this moment was different. Cliff was completely focused, not distracted in the slightest. Maxim and Ollie weren't daydreaming either— 

Or rather, they didn't dare to. 

The tense atmosphere made Maxim and Ollie hold their breath involuntarily, their nerves tightening along with it. They could feel the friction and collision of sparks. 

The Ronan in front of them didn't show any particular emotion. There was no anger, no irritation, no murderous intent. He remained patient, conducting the recording calmly and steadily. But this "calmness" gave off a machine-like coldness, and then the emotions hidden beneath the surface of this machine miraculously seeped out bit by bit. 

Those clear and bright eyes seemed to be able to see through any pretense, to perceive all the emotions within. Then, they worked repeatedly, over and over, like a ruthless working machine. So much so that the emotionless eyes made people不敢直视 (dare not look directly), and even the air seemed to solidify. 

Tension. Anxiety. Fear. 

Unconsciously, Cliff's voice was cut short like this. No one dared to argue. The entire recording studio fell into a deathly silence. Maxim and Ollie quietly lowered their heads, exchanging glances filled with intense unease, unsure of their fate. 

"Cliff, think. Use your head to think. You need to get your mind working to convey emotion. Your current mood is wrong. Do you need a five-minute break?" 

Ronan didn't notice Maxim and Ollie's exchange of glances at all. All his attention was on Cliff. He could keenly sense the change in the atmosphere of the recording studio, so he took the initiative to ask. 

The back of Cliff's shirt was completely soaked with sweat, but hearing Ronan's voice was like setting off an alarm. He jolted upright and shook his head repeatedly to deny the need for a break. "No, it's okay, I can do it." 

Facing the ruthless working machine in front of him, Cliff's work mode involuntarily tightened up. Complaints and dissatisfaction gradually evolved into silence, and then also transformed into a ruthless working machine. Otherwise, he might be crushed by that machine at any moment, leaving no trace behind. 

"Cliff, calm down and think." 

"Remember when you and Maxim had that argument? You wanted to give up, but Maxim wanted to persevere. What were your feelings then? You didn't want to give up either, but reality didn't allow you any other options. The tug-of-war between reason and emotion, that feeling of struggle, the entanglement of being in the darkest moment." 

"And then, you ultimately chose to fly like a moth to a flame. That sense of heroism, that sense of release, that sense of freedom, the profound understanding of living towards death. I need to feel that kind of emotional surge in the notes – powerful, grand, magnificent, opening your arms to embrace the storm, the complete release of emotion." 

"Think!" 

"Let's try it again." 

Take a deep breath, then another deep breath, and then another. Cliff's attention was completely focused. He followed Ronan's guidance and slowly entered a wonderful state. The images in his mind gradually became clearer, the surging emotions grew stronger, and his fingertips could feel the texture of the black and white keys. Life seemed to spark from the subtle touch of his fingertips. His mind was completely empty and clear. 

Standing beside the recording studio, observing everything, Alice could also feel the subtle changes. Cliff's entire aura was indeed different. 

Because Alice wasn't directly experiencing Ronan's pressure, unlike Maxim and Ollie, she could only faintly sense the change in the air. This caused her a lot of confusion— 

Was Ronan really that scary? Judging from his voice and expression, he didn't seem like a big deal. 

"Making a fuss about nothing," Alice muttered to herself in her heart. 

But the fact was, Cliff's performance had indeed undergone a qualitative change. It was as if the notes were injected with life, becoming vibrant, and the emotions hidden within them grew stronger. 

Words really couldn't accurately describe the feeling. It was more of an immersive experience. Being in it, you couldn't help but close your eyes and listen intently to the melodies. The rhythm and power of your heartbeat could convey clear changes, and then you could carefully feel the true emotions behind the melody of "Chasing the Light." 

It was truly a wonderful state. 

This was the most special and magical thing about music. It could connect different individuals just through notes, allowing them to feel similar rhythms and undulations, and then evoke emotional resonance, regardless of age, gender, nationality, or culture. It was the common language of all humanity. 

"Yes... yes! That's it, very good!" 

Cliff finally got into the zone. You could feel the heavy weight of emotion in the notes. The rhythm, power, and transitions were all excellent. This prompted Ronan to immediately add to the microphone, "Maxim, Ollie, join in." 

"Ollie, pay attention. Your emotion is the opposite of Cliff's. The initial power is the heaviest, then it slowly sinks, gradually becoming quiet. Try to let the emotion settle and submerge as much as possible." 

"Maxim, the emotion in your playing just now was correct. Just keep it up, but make it a bit lighter, relax your mindset. We're now entering the ensemble stage." 

With Ronan's command, the band finally entered the ensemble stage, and also entered the recording stage—nearly forty minutes had passed since they entered the recording studio, but this was just the beginning. 

De! De-de-de... 

De! De-de-de... 

On one side, there was the release of emotion, gradually rising; on the other side, there was the settling of emotion, slowly sinking. 

Even though only three instruments were playing now, and only the main melody, you could still feel the distinct layering—it was just that the melody was still too thin, and the layers were too obvious, lacking the expected beauty. The rough melody couldn't be called pleasant yet. 

However, faintly, the effect Ronan was hoping for was slowly taking shape. 

Alice watched this magical scene unfold before her eyes. The birth from nothing, the transformation from dull to vibrant. Most importantly, it was the collision of notes with notes. The originally plain notes were arranged and combined, then collided to create sparks. As a listener, her emotions were also immersed in it, just like... magic. 

The same melody, but a different feeling. Alice could indeed feel the emotions hidden within the notes, and her heart couldn't help but flutter gently, soaring and wandering within the melody. 

This was definitely a miracle.