The Greatest Showman

The lively rhythm felt like sunlight dancing under the blue sky, while the sorrowful lyrics seemed like seagrass floating and sinking beneath the ocean. That contradictory emotion blended harmoniously, a bittersweet sadness wrapped in a smile, slowly spreading on the tip of the tongue.

With tear-filled eyes, Hope looked at Renly amid the halo of light, his face gradually becoming blurry, like a beautiful dream drifting further away. Yet the faint smile on his lips gently rippled, like a pebble tossed into the heart’s lake.

Unconsciously, Hope’s lips curved into a similar arc, following Renly’s expression. Tears slowly slid down her cheeks, and then… she danced lightly and freely. She didn’t know why, but she just wanted to dance. The joyful singing reached her ears, and her body couldn’t help but sway to the rhythm, as if every cell naturally responded to the melody’s call.

“Oh, Ophelia, You’ve been on my mind girl since the flood; Oh, Ophelia, Heaven help a fool who falls in love.”

Oh, Ophelia, can you hear it? Someone has seen your beauty, someone remembers your existence, someone reminisces about your story—not just Hamlet, not just Laertes, but you, Ophelia.

Hope spread her arms wide, spinning joyfully in circles. The warm night breeze seemed to sprout wings under her arms. With just a light push from her feet, she could soar into the sky. She was so happy, blissful, and joyful, but the tears wouldn’t stop—like broken pearls, they fell one after another.

It was a missed opportunity, after all, just like Cleopatra missed Antony, and Hamlet missed Ophelia. In another world, could there be someone who loves Hamlet as wholeheartedly and unconditionally as Ophelia did? In the real world, could there be someone who would give up everything and love someone as purely as Ophelia?

“Oh, Ophelia, You’ve been on my mind girl like a drug; Oh, Ophelia, Heaven help a fool who falls in love.”

Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So, work as if you don’t need the money; love as if you’ve never been hurt; sing as if no one is listening; dance as if no one is watching; live as if today is the end of the world.

The night was just right.

William raised his hands high, following Ed’s beat, clapping his hands, his feet tapping out the steps of a tap dance. He danced joyfully. Since the age of nine, after performing a tap dance at school and being ridiculed by the senior football players, he had never danced again. The long years almost made him believe he had forgotten those steps, but at this moment, they seemed to have been lying dormant in his blood, never truly gone, reawakened and dancing with abandon.

His heart soared along with the curve of his lips. He had almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to dance, how completely immersed he could be. Why did he give it up in the first place? The memories seemed blurry, and those unfamiliar faces had long since become mere passersby in his life. Why should he care about their opinions anymore?

He shouldn’t change himself for others, and he didn’t want to change for anyone. Just like Ophelia, holding on to that clean piece of pure land deep in his heart, running wild like it was the last day of his life.

Graham had just returned from the bar and froze in place at the sight before him.

Looking at the smile on William’s face, he couldn’t remember the last time William had been so happy. So he, too, clumsily joined in the dance, responding to the melody and the rhythm, moving his limbs awkwardly and uncoordinatedly. His ridiculous movements didn’t embarrass him—on the contrary, he found joy in it—because everyone around him was dancing, turning the place into a sea of happiness.

Tears shimmered in Renly’s eyes, a faint sadness intertwining with the lyrics, gliding silently beneath the boundless night sky like a bird without legs—needing to flap its wings with all its might, for stopping would mean the end of life. Yet as he looked at the people dancing in front of him, a smile bloomed at the corners of his mouth. Ophelia—that was the purity and beauty that never disappeared, eternally illuminating the road ahead.

The melody stopped, the singing ceased, and the dance steps came to a halt.

Everyone turned around and looked at the two people who had just finished performing. Someone—no one knew who—whistled, followed by vigorous applause.
“Well done, mate!”
“Amazing, brother!”
“Encore, encore!”

It was only then that people noticed that the crowd, which had initially been just six or seven people, had swelled to more than thirty. Scattered around the street corner, they had turned the place into a small, impromptu performance venue.

Elliot Court widened his eyes in disbelief at what had just happened. He looked down at the footage captured on his camera, and his heart couldn’t help but soar with excitement.

He had arrived a bit late. After taking photos of Jim and Todd, he had left the lively Glee party behind, wandering down the street to look for Renly—he couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t miss this. When he finally reached the scene, the song was already in its latter half. Everyone was singing and dancing, moving freely. Renly, sitting cross-legged on the ground, looked a bit dishevelled, yet somehow perfectly fitting with this scene. It was as if in this street setting, he was his most authentic self—while the suit he wore seemed somewhat out of place.

Elliot had no time to make sense of what was going on—just moments ago, Renly had been receiving an Emmy Award, and now he was busking on the street? Usually, every award winner would be swarmed by reporters for first-hand interviews, so why was Renly here?

None of that mattered. The important thing was that Elliot immediately turned on his camera and started recording the scene, regretting only that he hadn’t been able to capture it from the start.

“Renly, what was that song just now? Was it an impromptu creation?” Elliot’s shout wasn’t abrupt amid the noise; rather, it won the support of the audience. Everyone echoed, “What song was that?”

“‘Ophelia.’” Renly answered almost without thinking, the name slipping from his lips.

In truth, the song’s melody was rather simple. Normally, songs lasted three to four minutes, but this one had barely lasted two and a half, including the prelude. It was just a spontaneous inspiration that had erupted tonight—a casual, impromptu tune. Yet, clearly, the audience didn’t see it that way.

“That song was amazing!”
“Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! I love it!”
“Put it on iTunes! I’ll be the first to buy it.”
“Yes, yes! Upload it soon—I can’t get it out of my head.”
“Is there a deeper meaning to the lyrics? It feels like Shakespearean poetry—hard to fully understand.”
“Ophelia is a character from Hamlet, so it must be meaningful.”

The discussions erupted one after another, leaving no need for Renly to answer. The crowd had already started forming their own interpretations, making Renly smile.

“Renly, will this song be released?” Hope took a small step forward, her eyes filled with longing as she looked at Renly. The surrounding chatter surprisingly paused for a moment.

Renly thought everyone had moved on from the topic, but the question came back around. He shrugged and replied, “Why not? I suppose my rent could use the extra income.” His playful tone made everyone burst into laughter.

“I’ll definitely buy it!”
“Upload it soon—I’m getting impatient!”

Renly could feel the genuine excitement and happiness flowing around him. Suddenly, he understood why Stanley Charlson was so passionate about sharing music—because whether it was joy or sadness, regret or fulfilment, it was something that could be shared. It was like performing—a bridge not just between the listener and the performer, but between people themselves.

It was an intensely personal experience because the melody stirred the most hidden emotions deep within one’s heart—secrets known only to oneself. So, when discovering that a stranger shared the same passion for a melody, the tangled feelings of tension, excitement, unease, and delight intertwined in an incredibly subtle way.

It seemed he really should share “Ophelia” with this group of strangers who, despite being fleeting passersby, had forged a connection tonight.

“Hey, Renly, are you that Renly? The rich kid from The Pacific?” Finally, the crowd seemed to realize something, though the delayed reaction was almost exaggerated. “Wait, weren’t you supposed to be at the Emmys tonight… Oh!” Before the question could be completed, someone reacted—they were just across the street from the Nokia Theatre.

“Look, isn’t that the Emmy trophy? Haha, congratulations!” People noticed the trophy lying in the guitar case and started congratulating him one after another.
“Thanks, man, for giving us such a wonderful night!”
“Dude, make sure to upload that single—I’m planning to share it with my girlfriend!”
“Tonight was pure luck—congrats!”

The continuous praise made Renly a little embarrassed—he wasn’t the real protagonist of this performance, after all.

T/N – Just a heads up – I am changing the way I am writing the names of movies, so it was like this: ‘The Pacific’, but from now on it will be like this: The Pacific. Not a big change but it is a change…

T/N – And I am back, I really needed a pause from everything…Oh yeah, I also graduated, so I spent some time partying, but back to translating.

T/N – If you like this novel, please give a review or rating on Novel Updates