My Girlfriend Is a Cello Player-Chapter 42: Can-Can Dance

Chapter 42: Can-Can Dance
Gan Yanyu practically sat right next to the piano, only thirty centimeters away from Lin Tian. Her body faced his side, her gaze fixed intently on him.
Uh… dude? Lin Tian thought inwardly. How am I supposed to play with you staring at me like that?
It felt like taking an exam while the proctor hovered over your desk, scrutinizing every move. Every time you filled in a blank, they'd let out a disapproving "tsk." Every multiple-choice answer earned a skeptical "hmm." Forget concentrating—it was impossible.
Or imagine playing a video game where your ADC teammate decided to set up their monitor right next to yours. Every time you missed a skill shot, they'd pop their head into view and say, "Hey, buddy, what's going on here?"
"Nope, I can't play with you watching me like this," Lin Tian protested, waving his hands emphatically.
If it were a performance, he might have been able to handle it. But for collaborative practice? The thought of Gan Yanyu's intense gaze boring into him made him squirm. He already felt immense pressure; adding her death stare wasn't helping.
"Oh…" Gan Yanyu's expression turned both hurt and stubborn. "I won't say anything, I promise."
She tried to explain earnestly, "I just figured sitting closer might help us ‘sync' better, like in those fairy tales."
Sync? Sitting closer wouldn't magically improve their connection. In those fairy tales, people kissed to achieve true unity—and even brought the dead back to life! How absurdly romantic was that?
But then again… thinking about "syncing," Lin Tian realized something. Perhaps their lack of chemistry stemmed from mismatched emotions. While he focused entirely on not messing up the piano part—trying desperately not to drag Gan Yanyu down—she was fully immersed in Greeting of Love. If they could align their emotional states, maybe things would click.
That's when inspiration struck. "Let's try this one instead," Lin Tian said, pulling out the sheet music for Can-Can Dance and handing it to Gan Yanyu.
"A new piece?" Gan Yanyu asked, surprised by how casually Lin Tian produced the score as if performing a magic trick.
"I wrote it today," Lin Tian replied nonchalantly. Originally, he'd planned to perfect their synergy with Greeting of Love before recording this upbeat number. But now, he suspected Can-Can Dance might suit them better.
"Can-Can," Gan Yanyu murmured, reading the title aloud. She glanced at the sheet music and began humming softly:
"So-la-ti-do-la, mi-fa-so-la-ti~
Do-la-mi-fa-so, la-ti-do-la-mi~"
Her lips curled upward unconsciously, and her expression brightened. What a delightful tune! Just humming along made her feel lighter, happier.
"Hey, you're humming it wrong," Lin Tian corrected sternly. "Follow me."
He launched into a ridiculous rendition: "Come on, I'm a banana, sweet sweet banana~"
"What on earth?" Gan Yanyu stifled a laugh behind her hand. "Did seeing a big banana inspire you to write this?"
"If it were a big banana, it'd be an entirely different song," Lin Tian clarified dryly. "Just follow along."
With no room to argue—the composer himself had spoken—Gan Yanyu reluctantly joined in: "Come on… I'm a banana…"
"You need more energy!" Lin Tian barked.
Startled, Gan Yanyu shouted louder: "Come on! I'm a banana! Sweet sweet banana!!" Her face flushed crimson with embarrassment.
Seizing the moment, Lin Tian began playing the piano.
The lively, cheerful melody filled the air. As his fingers danced across the keys, Lin Tian sang along enthusiastically: "Come on, I'm a pineapple, pi-pi-pi-pineapple~ La-la-la-la~~"
The atmosphere erupted with joy. Despite her mortification, Gan Yanyu couldn't resist joining in. Though she felt utterly ridiculous, she found herself belting out lyrics louder to mask her embarrassment—which only deepened her blush.
They were like dolls and teddy bears dancing in circles, laughing and shouting nonsense lyrics: "Bomp-bomp-bomp banana, bomp-banana-bomp-banana~"
As long as they kept the rhythm, any nonsensical words worked. It didn't matter—they were having fun.
If someone had peeked through the balcony window at that moment, they'd have seen two people acting like lunatics, shrieking and playing instruments with wild abandon. One might've suspected they were high—or worse, called the cops.
But once they hit their stride, the silliness faded. They transitioned into a seamless, immersive duet. Lin Tian's fingers flew across the keyboard, while Gan Yanyu's bow moved furiously back and forth, threatening to set the strings ablaze. Beads of sweat dripped onto the piano and cello, soaking their clothes.
Their eyes met, locked, yet neither flinched. Instead, they exchanged a knowing smile. At that moment, their hearts synced perfectly, their emotions unified.
They delivered a breathtaking performance.
When the final note faded, Gan Yanyu leaned back against her chair, breathing heavily. Her damp clothes clung to her skin, making her thin dress nearly translucent. She gazed at the ceiling, still smiling faintly. For the first time in ages, she experienced pure musical bliss—a joy so profound she wanted to share it with the world. Perhaps this was the essence of being a composer or performer.
"Not bad," Lin Tian remarked, walking over to review the recording on his phone. After trimming the earlier awkward singing bits, the polished performance was ready to be shared.
Though Can-Can Dance was significantly harder than Greeting of Love—with its rapid tempo and equal importance placed on both instruments—they'd nailed it. This must be what it felt like to be Boya and Ziqi.
Gan Yanyu approached Lin Tian, her face still flushed from their earlier antics. She hadn't expected to lose herself so completely during the performance. There was something infectious about this piece—it was intoxicating.
Peering at the phone screen, she leaned forward, pressing her body against Lin Tian. Her damp, semi-transparent dress carried a faint fragrance mixed with the scent of her sweat—similar to what Lin Tian had smelled on her uniform before. He didn't mind. In fact, he could feel her sweat dampening his arm too, tickling slightly as strands of her hair brushed against his skin.