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Chapter Thirteen Let it be (1)

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    ?

    53

    I told Beichuan, we have to wait, we have to wait.

    Wait for his brother to appear, wait for my father to appear.

    When Jacques comes over, we can discuss some things.

    We have to think about something, write it down, and put it in a drifting bottle

    The reason why Beichuan and I have not put drifting bottles is that we have encountered a problem: the water flows eastward, my bottle cannot return to Fengzhen, and his bottle cannot return to Beichuan.

    What else can we hope for?  Maybe there is only music, which can float back with the air.

    Every night before going to bed, I play the harmonica for Beichuan.  In the dark, his two round eyes were particularly bright, and he beat me with light applause.  His sense of music is very good, the rhythm is very accurate, which greatly encourages me.  I almost believe that the music is taking away his melancholy bit by bit!

    We love another kind of people¡ªthose who sing in parks, stations, overpasses and subway passages, who are not shy about singing their feelings and dreams together.

    The first time we entered the subway, we were attracted by the music in the subway passage.

    When we passed by a subway entrance, the guitar sound from the depths of the earth, as fast as a torrential rain, suddenly shook my whole body.

    Following the sound, the slowly falling escalator brought us to the ground.

    It turned out to be the big boy who raised money for children with thalassemia.  He plays alone, half leaning against the wall, his hair covering his face, his jeans tucked into high-top cross-country hiking boots, and his fingers wrapped in straps.

    There are few lights in the passage, but the tiles on the floor are very clean, as if water has just slipped over it.  It's the working hours in the city, and there are few people here, another place away from day and night, a middle ground, a place to dream.

    He played some popular songs, then moved on to "Memories of the Alhambra," and "Rose Cherry."  There are also "I Have Two Black Eyes" and "When the Sun Is Hot".

    marvelous!

    I was almost out of breath.  He himself, had probably been dazed by the music.

    The two of us sat opposite him, listening to him in dizziness, constantly slipping out the beautiful overtones like silk and sea breeze.  I could hardly bear the shock that was both familiar and unfamiliar.

    After that, he sang some very old songs, "Country Road Takes Me Home", and "Once Upon a Time", "Let It Go".  Loneliness, nostalgia, and sadness are very suitable for such a place, and also suitable for my mood that is always recalling the past. The indescribable warmth and softness make me reluctant to leave.

    Music is like some words in the heart, like seeds in the soft soil, like snow flying in winter, like the sound of waves in the forest, floating out from the ground where we are, and passing along the passage to the  The railway station spread to the east and west of the city, to Jinshazhou and Panyu, and to both sides of the Pearl River Then, when I came to the green river, among the ripples everywhere, I began to feel a little lonely, and soon, I found more and more  More and more resonance, and tossing in the waves at the sternTo the south, it keeps going south, rushing with the water, chasing the never-ending light of the sun, and spreading it to the other side of the earth

    54

    He was tired, and slowly sat down on the ground, drooping his head, holding the guitar in his arms, breathing in bursts.  Bei Chuan and I changed seats and sat next to him.  The music is still echoing in our ears, and we seem to have stayed in its reverberation for decades.

    Occasionally, a passerby puts money in his guitar bag, and the crisp sound of coins colliding wakes us up.

    He opened one eye: "What's your name? Where are you from?"

    I plucked the strings of the guitar without making a sound.

    "You sing one too?"

    I shook my head.

    "Come on, brother, I will accompany you."

    I still didn't have the courage to speak, although, I felt, the singing had come to my throat.

    "Sing one!" Beichuan said enthusiastically.

    "Sing whatever you want, don't have any obstacles. The biggest advantage of music is that it allows us to express our inner feelings at any time. If you don't express, why do you need music!"

    His words encouraged me a lot, but I remained silent for dozens of seconds.  I know that I am such a person, it is difficult to ignite all of a sudden, it always needs a process of warming up slowly.  After repeated luck several times, I started to sing: "The moon, in the white lotus-like clouds, walks through"

    He quickly found my tone on the guitar, but he said: "Oh my god, such an old song, children can also"

    I am ashamed to sing any more.

    &nb; After a while, I heard him cooing in his throat.

    He turned to me: "If Lennon came to the subway station¡ªhe came from the time tunnel¡ªhe would be dizzy to hear you sing this song like this! Also, the dark and fat queen of soul, Eric  Sha, she has to wonder if there is anything wrong with her current cover song!"

    It turned out that he had been thinking about the way I sang, my voice.  It made me uncomfortable to think that he would be the butt of my hard work.

    "Queen of the soul song what is a soul song?" I actually knew a little bit, but I didn't know the "why", so I asked him casually in order to get rid of the embarrassment.

    "That's American pop music. Soul music, that's what you say from your heartThose things you think about, in your heart, what you see, and what you feel, with emotion."

    He asked Beichuan: "Are you his brother?"

    Bei Chuan showed his usual attitude towards strangers, and turned his head to the other side.

    "Yes, and no." I answered for Beichuan.

    I told Roger Beichuan's origin, and Roger's eyes were red.  He patted Bei Chuan on the shoulder: "I'll sing a song for your sister, okay?"

    "What do you want to sing?" I was afraid he would make Beichuan cry.

    Roger said, he must come to a song of that, a black soul song.

    When he said this, we were going deeper underground.  He walked very slowly, probably looking for a place that is not so open, a place that is most suitable for him to sing that song, a corner that is more claustrophobic, with softer lighting, and a particularly clean corner, where there must be no disturbing footsteps.

    He also said that it is not appropriate to use guitar accompaniment.

    He sang, and soon finished.  I don't know what he sang.

    Beichuan didn't cry.  Bei Chuan seemed to be distracted again.

    I think he must have listened to my words: you have to wait.

    (Address of Xili's other works: "The Pain of Ruin" http://www.17k.com/book/56782.html;

    "Twelve Heavens" http://www.17k.com/book/56783.html;

    "Cat" http://www.17k.com/book/58588.html ) (remember this website URL: www.hlnovel.com
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