The mighty canals flow through the northern plains of Germany, and the canals are filled with leisurely flowing water, light green water, and silk-like waves. Zhuo Yang didn't know where it originated, only that the canal would go to the sea, and the river would eventually return to the sea.

He sat alone on the edge of the canal outside the high white walls of Victor Stadium, watching the quiet river flow into the distance. Freighters quietly separate and close the river like zippers, only one small whirlpool after another chasing the fleeting wake.

Chairman Angus Mullen's long talk finally allowed Zhuo Yang to find the crux of the problem - he did bad things with good intentions and acted like a good person blindly.

Zhuo Yang patted his chest against the lion king Lao Song, his original intention was to make everyone happy, Lao Song was happy, Uncle Scum was happy, he thought that with his efforts on the field, he could resolve the differences between Lao Song and Uncle Scum on tactics.

But it was Zhuo Yang's big bag that made Lao Song forget and despised Klopp's authority as the head coach, and also made Uncle Scum hinder Zhuo Yang's face and did not cut through the mess quickly. In the end, the contradictions were intensified under the weight of the hope of winning the championship at the end of the season.

To be honest, if Zhuo Yang doesn't take care of Lao Song, but is more mature, and asks the three of them to be open and honest, and find a good way that can be accepted, for example, when Lao Song is inserted, Zhuo Yang will give orders on the field, just like Barak and Lucio, instead of letting Lao Song act recklessly, it will definitely end up being a happy ending.

Anyway, Zhuo Yang did bad things for the sake of righteousness and friends, and wanted to make everyone happy but smashed the pot. In a highly professional modern football club, Zhuo Yang violated the laws of professionalism and acted amateurishly.

Zhuo Yang uses the perceptual thinking of music to deal with a matter that should be decided by rational logic.

"Zhuo Yang, indiscriminate good people are the most important thing, indiscriminate good people will lose their principles, and even lose their bottom line. Zhuo Yang, indiscriminate good people are more harmful to others and themselves than pure bad people! ”

Old Mullen's teachings were deafening, and Zhuo Yang was like an initiation. He is a smart man, cautious and thoughtful, but not narrow-minded, Zhuo Yang can accept heartfelt and correct criticism from others.

Things were wrong from the beginning, but Zhuo Yang didn't complain about Lao Song at this time, Lao Song didn't use him, on the contrary, it was because he valued Zhuo Yang's status and role in Madibao that he came to ask for advice, and Lao Song just looked down on Klopp as a young head coach.

Zhuo Yang does not complain about Uncle Scum, from the perspective of a head coach, Klopp did not do anything wrong, but it was Zhuo Yang's overstepping of his role that caused him to hinder, but in the face of his own highly meritorious captain, Uncle Scumbag can no longer open his mouth and scold as he did in previous years.

- Fuck, it turns out that I inadvertently fanned the yin wind and lit the ghost fire.

Zhuo Yang was even more depressed and irritable, knowing that this was the case, but the vicious result was there, and he did not find a solution. Uncle Slag and Lao Song are both face-saving people, and it is impossible to work together anymore, and the club is determined to abolish Lao Song and give Uncle Scum this bad breath. The 'culprit' Zhuo Yang just wanted to maneuver around it, but he couldn't open his mouth at all.

Coupled with the toss between him and Mido, Zhuo Yang wanted to rush to the corner of the war to fight and vent at this time.

The peaceful river water could not soothe Zhuo Yang's anxious heart at this time, and the gentle spring light could not dissolve the anger in his heart, and the melodious whistle of the freighter seemed to mock him.

The mobile phone rang: "Zhuo Yang, where is it?" "It's Professor Carl Norman, the mentor.

"Come to my office and pick up your homework for today."

This thing is unusual, there is never homework in the music university, there is no classwork, and it is all up to consciousness to love learning or not.

Zhuo Yang heard the fat man Raiola say that there is a man named Roberto? Nevilles, an Italian secondary school teacher, pioneered homework in 1905 to punish unruly students. To this day, Nevilles' grave and the location of their family's ancestral grave are Italian state secrets, which are never to be revealed.

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Looking at the yellowed paper handed over by Professor Norman, Zhuo Yang was very surprised.

This is a very old staff paper, with the front and back of the A3, and the notes are clearly handwritten on it. It's just that this ancient sheet of music has no name, no surname, no title, and no signature.

Zhuo Yang hummed a few lines as he read the score, and was even more surprised: "Arnold Schoenberg? ”

"Yes, Schoenberg." Professor Norman nodded, "This is his real handiwork." ”

Zhuo Yang suddenly felt heavy in his hands, Schoenberg was a musical giant almost a hundred years ago, and it is conceivable that his handwriting is a very important document even at the Hannover University of Music.

"This is the sixth of Schoenberg's six piano pieces, and it's not very popular in the classical music world, it's a little cold." Professor Norman explained to Zhuo Yang.

In fact, Zhuo Yang does not like to play Arnold Schoenberg's works very much in his daily life, including this little song, he only plays it twice as if it were a situation. Zhuo Yang was less fond of the fragmented, chaotic and disorganized notes of Schoenberg's piano pieces, and Schoenberg was more sought after for his symphonies, suites, operas, etc., which were more representative of Schoenberg's twelve-note system.

"That's your homework, give it back to me tomorrow morning, and talk about it."

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At night, Zhuo Yang is still immersed in the movement of Schoenberg's Piano Op. 6, from the initial obscurity, exaggeration, distortion and weirdness, he gradually listens to the despair, fear, tension, pain and other morbid psychology or emotions in it.

"Zhuo Yang, this is Schoenberg's immersive creation in France, where he witnessed the horrors of the First World War, and it is said that his piano was only separated from the battlefield by a broken window."

The music in front of Zhuo Yang's eyes turned into a shattered bloody corpse, the flames of war burning outside his window, and the soldiers screamed and charged repeatedly. The explosion of the Krupp cannon shells reflected the night sky like day, and the light of the burning trees shone through the window lattices on the white walls of the room, flashing like the entrance to hell.

"Most people play this piece just to show off how they can handle difficult fingering, but they don't understand it. Zhuo Yang, I hope you can. ”

Zhuo Yang understood, because he left the piano, he rushed out the door and found himself in the middle of a meat grinder-like battlefield.

Stepping on tattered riding boots and wearing a mutilated Prussian steel helmet, Zhuo Yang raised his Mauser Type 98 rifle and charged like a beast, the small second floor behind him had long been burned to ashes, and his feet were full of corpses of his companions, familiar and unfamiliar, men, women and children, all of them were corpses, and the canal was flowing with a dazzling crimson river.

Zhuo Yang was covered with scraps of intestines and internal organs, he couldn't remember how many people he had killed, and killing had become his only instinct at this time.

The moon in the sky also turned blood-red, and the whole world was filled with tyranny, rage, and blood, and Zhuo Yang roared and killed until a bullet from a Makqin water-cooled heavy machine gun pierced his skull.

The sound of the piano stopped abruptly, and Zhuo Yang was sweating profusely!