From a very young age, Wu Yi had known.
He possessed a musical talent far beyond that of ordinary people.
At five, while other children were still watching television, he had been sent to piano lessons. His extraordinary aptitude had astonished even his teacher.
Soon afterward, he won first place in a children's music competition.
From then on, Wu Yi became the genius adults spoke of.
He was often held up as a "positive example" and widely circulated among the circles of relatives and friends around him.
Wu Yi became his mother's pride. Wherever she went, she took Wu Yi with her. At all kinds of social gatherings, the adults eagerly discussed his mother's successful educational philosophy and talked about the Wu family's future great pianist.
Wherever he went, Wu Yi was the center of everyone's attention.
And it was from that time onward.
That little Wu Yi felt it for the first time.
That suffocating pressure.
What he represented was no longer himself.
He represented his mother's dignity, the adults' topic of conversation, and the positive example in the hearts of other children.
If the value of a person's life lay in being able to feel needed by others.
Then Wu Yi's very existence was for the purpose of fulfilling other people's need for an "idol from next door."
From then on, he had to work hard, study, and struggle without cease. He had to maintain his image and display his personal charm.
He had to become the "Wu Yi" everyone needed.
That environment had followed Wu Yi all the way into his senior year of high school.
Once again, with exceptionally outstanding grades, he became the hope and goal every art exam student in the entire training institution looked up to.
Everyone said.
This year's top music student