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Chapter 67 Two Little Children

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    You can search "This Star Comes from Earth" on Baidu to find the latest chapter!

    Sometimes, inconsistent love and death happen quietly without any precautions, forcing you to witness them.

    The death of his predecessor¡¯s mother left him with a permanent memory. Instead of being dimmed and erased by the passage of time, that memory became brighter and brighter like a bronze mirror that was constantly wiped.

    So much so that when his predecessor realized that no one could love him, he chose to commit suicide in the same way as his mother.  The previous few times, it was shallow and partial, but this last time, it seemed that he had no attachment to the world.

    Whether it¡¯s rumors that are spreading more and more on the Internet or neighbors¡¯ revelations, the details of the death of the predecessor¡¯s mother are vague, making it appear cloudy and foggy, and it sounds like street stall literature.  Han Jue only saw the details in his predecessor's diary after he was a few years older. Rather than leaving these vague contents to the imagination, it was better to take the initiative to put a final word and end the rumors.

    Every kind of creative consciousness has traces to follow, and the design of every combination of punches must achieve a key point of attack.  In the eyes of others, he took the initiative to tear open the scab wounds and show them to others.  But in Han Jue's view, he was ending the topic and shifting the focus.  From discussing other people's privacy to discussing the quality of this song.  Discussing privacy will only invite banter, but discussing the work will at least lead to appreciation and admiration.

    Han Jue sang the story of his predecessor in one breath, as if he had fulfilled some kind of destiny.  When the last word fell, Han Jue felt like crying for a moment, but in the end he just sighed.

    Opening his eyes, he looked at the producer outside the glass. The producer gestured with two thumbs, and Han Jue responded with a smile.

    It should have been a very good picture, but the cameraman filmed the producer's thumb from different angles and did not allow the producer to take his hand back quickly.  It turns up and down, which looks very unsightly.

    Han Jue put down his headphones, opened the door to the recording studio and went out.  It was as if I had run a long distance, my body was weak but I was enjoying the relaxation brought by walking. I held my tired eyelids open, just like my eyes when I was walking under the bright sun.

    The producer applauded and praised, saying that there was no problem. All he had to do next was combine it with Zhang Yiman¡¯s lyrical content, and finally the mixer would help, and the song would be roughly complete.

    ¡¾Hey, where's the silly girl?  ¡¿ Han Jue watched the work on the computer screen for a while, and then suddenly realized that Zhang Yiman was no longer hanging around. No wonder he felt that something was missing.

    When I glanced at her, I realized that Zhang Yiman was sitting on the sofa with her back to this side, and there was no cameraman filming nearby.

    Han Jue walked over and said naturally in a relaxed state: "Silly girl, uh Teacher Zhang! What's wrong with you?"

    In order to cover up his slip of the tongue, Han Jue's tone was as anxious as that of a Manchu regent. He was frightened and would go out to help Zhang Yiman kill someone if he disagreed with her.

    However, when Zhang Yiman heard Han Jue's past movements, he immediately lay down and buried his face in the seam of the sofa, always facing away from Han Jue.

    ¡°Don¡¯t come here, uncle, I, I¡¯m not crying well, you don¡¯t want it, come here and talk to me.¡± Zhang Yiman muffled on the back of the sofa chair, humming.

    The cameraman who followed him looked at Han Jue with a look like "She said she didn't want to talk to you."

    Han Jue glared at the cameraman.

    Zhang Yiman was lying on the sofa on her side, her red hair spread out, revealing one side of her fair, slender, graceful neck.  But Han Jue's heart suddenly softened when he saw the hair trembling slightly and listened to Zhang Yiman's choked voice.  He knew why this silly girl was crying like this.  What a kind and silly girl with rich emotions.

    "What? You want me to come over and talk to you? Okay." Han Jue heard Zhang Yiman's words of chasing people away. Instead of leaving, he squatted on the edge of the sofa and awkwardly tried to talk.

    It¡¯s a childish approach, but it suits Zhang Yiman very well.

    Then the two of them became like children.

    Next door, Director Wang¡¯s eyes were still moist, but he smiled like a mother.  Very grateful, very pleased.  This hypothetical couple finally looks a bit like what they should be on this show.  Their small improvement is simply a giant step for the show.  It's time to celebrate.

    Hearing Han Jue¡¯s scoundrel words, Zhang Yiman stretched out a hand with his back towards Han Jue, wanting to hit him.

    ?? Han Jue leaned over to hide, and when he was hit, he dubbed it, just like the powerful people in martial arts movies exchanging blows, the punches hit the flesh, and the sound was heard.

    After a while of beating, Han Jue waited for Zhang Yiman to stop beating, and then asked: "Little girl, what's on your mind? You can tell me, my ancestors will explain it."

    "I don't have anything to worry about. I just think those people are too much." Zhang Yiman said.??It was dull and I no longer cried, but I still sobbed occasionally.

    Han Jue knew who [those people] Zhang Yiman was talking about.  "It doesn't matter. People only want to believe what they want to believe. There is no point in forcing them to be calm. The same is true for love."

    "But some of them don't understand you at all, so they yell and curse, and their speech is very unpleasant."

    "Let them talk. It's a waste of time to reason with a group of people who can govern the world with just one keyboard. I don't even want fans like this to post money to me. I wish they didn't like me. Just like love."

    "Oh, why do you do everything like love?" Zhang Yiman wanted to hit Han Jue again.

    Han Jue said with a smile: "I can only say chicken soup like this. You see, no matter what you say, as long as you add the sentence "The same is true for love" at the end, it will immediately taste like chicken soup."

    Zhang Yiman burst into laughter.

    "Uncle, you are not suitable for talking about chicken soup. It does not suit your personality." Zhang Yiman covered his face with his hands and turned around, only a pair of curved eyes were revealed from between his fingers, looking at Han Jue.

    Han Jue straightened his face and said seriously: "Really? But I heard that people who have been through the gate of hell often become more open-minded, indifferent, peaceful and far-reaching, and those with high understanding can even see through life and death.  Therefore, the chicken soup for the soul is often more fragrant, delicious and tear-jerking than ordinary people's. Now you actually say that I am not suitable for making chicken soup? Huh?"

    After Han Jue finished speaking, he approached Zhang Yiman with a fierce look and questioned him. Zhang Yiman smiled and screamed, then turned around again, closed his eyes, and curled up into a ball.

    In the end, what Zhang Yiman waited for was a big warm hand rubbing her head.

    Zhang Yiman's body relaxed and she let Han Jue mess up her hair, lying in front of her owner like an unreserved puppy, very willing.

    Director Wang grinned and stared at the screen motionless, grinning like a fool.  The screenwriters weren't much better, filling this scene with pink hearts in their heads.

    Han Jue touched the soft hair in his hand and didn't think much about it. He just sighed at the girl's innocence and sincerely hoped that the other party would be lucky enough to keep it.

    When Han Jue saw that Zhang Yiman had stopped crying, he took back his hand and went to the recording booth to check the final product.

    "Uncle, does that lyrical part have a complete song, or is it just these four lines?" After Zhang Yiman returned to his lively state, he followed over and asked curiously.  There was no heavy makeup on her face, and even if she cried a lot, she could just wipe it away with a tissue. She was not afraid of the camera at all, so she didn't need to touch up her makeup at all.

    Hearing Zhang Yiman¡¯s question, Han Jue remembered that the lyrical part he had just given to Zhang Yiman was indeed an excerpt from another song, and said, ¡°It¡¯s a complete song. What, do you want to sing it?¡±

    "Really? I want to sing. What's the name of that song?" Zhang Yiman was simply excited to come across a good song and have the opportunity to sing it.

    ""Your Eyes", I will find time to write it out for you." Han Jue looked at Zhang Yiman's smile, and he smiled too.  Putting the song "Your Eyes" in Zhang Yiman's hands does not bury the song at all.  Han Jue was even more looking forward to hearing the full version of her singing than Zhang Yiman.  Without him, he misses the works of his previous life. If he can't sing well, it will only make him feel worse.

    "It's so well written, both lyrically and rapping. Uncle, I'm so envious of you for being able to create, but I can't write anything." Zhang Yiman's face was filled with regret.  Her experience is still not enough to support her independent creative ability.

    "Actually, you don't have to envy people who are particularly good at expressing themselves. You have to know that if a person can describe your feelings exactly and accurately touch your heart, then the same sadness, loneliness and pain will  , his feelings will be ten times worse than yours." Han Jue said lightly.

    ¡°Uncle, are your pain ten times that of what I feel?¡± Zhang Yiman¡¯s eyes seemed to be filled with tears again.

    "It's okay, it's probably 1.73462 times yours." Han Jue calculated seriously.

    "Ah, uncle, you can learn from me!" Zhang Yiman became angry, wrinkled her nose, and wanted to hit Han Jue again.

    "Hey, it's time. Let's go for a walk and eat. What do you want to eat?" Han Jue looked at his non-existent watch and changed the subject.

    "Well, I want to eat" Zhang Yiman stopped being angry, poked his chin with his finger, his eyes drifted, and he began to think.  (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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