Bai Yueguang doesn't follow the script

"The past is like smoke, the light disappears..."

Bursts of desolate and hopeless singing faintly spread to the ears of passers-by.

That sadness is like miasma, inhaled into people's lungs.

The street performers on the bridge are immersed in their own world, singing their hearts while shaking their heads.

Yu Huai walked to the overpass following the singing, and stood there quietly, looking at the middle-aged man singing with a hoarse voice.

The street performer's clothes were shabby, his hair was already shoulder-length, let it be scattered in the strong wind, his lush beard covered his original appearance, and his clothes were very rough.

After a song was sung, Yu Huai took out his wallet from his pocket, paused for a few dollars in change, and changed the one dollar change into a green bill and put it in the empty box on the ground.

When he put the money into the empty box and got up, he happened to meet the eyes of the middle-aged busker who raised his head.

"Thank you." The slightly scruffy middle-aged entertainer thanked him politely in a hoarse voice.

He stretched out his rough fingers, wiped the clothes, and picked up the 50 yuan in the box.

"It's more than 50 yuan, one yuan or two is enough. The young man must have lived a very hard life." The middle-aged entertainer flicked the keys of his electronic piano a few times, and the beautiful piano sound was mixed with shrill sounds.

Yu Huai did not speak, nor did he accept the money handed over by the middle-aged busker.

The middle-aged busker smiled meaninglessly, stuffed 50 yuan banknotes in his heels, and started playing the piano and singing again.

When the firepower of the scorching sun gradually intensified and the flow of people on the overpass gradually decreased, he put away the box on the ground and prepared to move under the overpass to hide from the sun and come back when the sun was weaker.

Few of the people coming and going stopped at the bridge to watch the performance.

But Yu Huai listened to one song after another, the middle-aged busker finished collecting his things and saw the young man listening to the song still standing there.

The determination and enthusiasm in the young man's eyes touched some chord in the heart of the middle-aged entertainer. He who had not liked to communicate with others for a long time suddenly smiled and sighed.

"Young man, the heart in the body is still hot and sincere. Every day when you wake up, you see hope. Unlike me, this life will be like this!"

The young man who was approached pursed his lips. The entertainer thought he would smile or say something casually, but he didn't want to listen to the young man.

"Your song is very good, I have heard your song."

The middle-aged busker was startled, and almost smashed the things in his hand to the ground.

"What, what, this is not my song, I just sell and sing it on the street, how can I write songs."

After the middle-aged busker finished speaking, he lowered his head and was about to leave in a hurry, when he heard the young man behind him say in an extremely certain tone.

"This is your song—Senior Qian Hai."

Qian Hai's figure suddenly stopped.

"Let me help senior move the piano."

……

"I didn't expect me to be like this, and there are still young people who can recognize me."

Qian Hai sat on the raised stone under the bridge, pulled out the cigarette case, and took out two cigarettes from it.

Yu Huai didn't want it, Qian Hai put one back, thought about it, and put the other back into the cigarette case.

"Not only me, there should be many people who remember you."

Qian Hai tossed the cigarette case, and suddenly burst out laughing when he heard this.

"Yeah, my plagiarism story was still widely circulated on the Internet back then."

"I don't think you plagiarized." Yu Huai looked into Qian Hai's eyes very seriously.

The ruthless training of time and life has made the once handsome singer who has won many trophies become tired.

Only when a man smiles, Yu Huai can vaguely recognize the high-spirited shadow from his eyes.

"Little friend, don't talk nonsense." Qian Hai seemed to hear something funny, and laughed until his stomach hurt while covering his waist.

Qian Hai laughed enough, straightened up, and casually patted his dusty pants.

Yu Huai stared at his dazed eyes and frowned.

"Am I telling the truth? You are the one who knows the truth best."

"The copyright of the song is still in the hands of others. If you say that I am the creator, who will believe it?" Qian Hai looked at the sky and said, "I don't even believe it myself."

"Have you thought about trying again?" Is there any chance of success in trying again.

"I just listened to the songs you sang, and I guess some of them were written after leaving Shengwei Entertainment. Compared with the songs written ten years ago, the songs you write now are better.

Qian Hai smiled: "Can you hear that I have improved?"

"Of course, I can still hear that you wrote Wen Guanxuan's previous songs. After you left, he changed more than one gunman."

Qian Hai was taken aback for a moment, but when he realized it, he burst out laughing.

"It's been more than ten years, and Wen Guanxuan still can't write songs. He should be guilty of sitting on the throne of the king of heaven."

Qian Hai smiled, his face gradually turned sad.

"Those who know how to write songs are not interested in the streets, and those who have no real materials can live well by playing tricks. How ironic..."

"Do you want to get those things back, I can help you."

Qian Hai laughed.

"How to grab it? Shengwei Entertainment behind Wen Guanxuan has now become an industry giant, and they have evidence that can prove Wen Guanxuan in their hands. They can't compete. You little friend, when did you become my fan? , You actually recognized me. You said you could help me, but I think your family's conditions should be... not so good, what can you do to help me, aren't you afraid of being retaliated by them?"

Seeing that Qian Hai didn't take his words seriously, Yu Huai felt that this was a young man's joke, so he couldn't help frowning.

He squatted halfway in front of Qian Hai, his thin muscle lines faintly showing through the outline of his shirt, the high temperature in summer prompted fine sweat to break out from his plump, snow-white forehead, glossy black hair, and immature face All of them are full of vitality and youthful breath.

"I just want to ask you now, do you have that thought?"

Qian Hai's voice suddenly dropped, the smile on his face that was used to cover up his decadent attitude gradually disappeared, and he stood up as if trying to escape something.

"I, I have already accepted my fate." After finishing speaking, he was ready to leave.

It seemed that he was afraid that the boy would stare at him with such firm and upright eyes again.

Yu Huai looked at his back, staring straight at him with beautiful peach blossom eyes, and said loudly.

"Is your wife in good health recently?"

Qian Hai's figure paused and turned around quickly.

"Dear Xiao Huai, will you miss me after I'm gone?" Jiang Song took off his shoes, straddled one foot on the KTV sofa indecently, wrapped Yu Huai's neck with one hand, He took the microphone and put it on Yu Huai's mouth.

Jiang Song grew up in country Y. Shen Tiao, who worked with his parents when he was in an art high school abroad, applied for an exchange student. He studied in Qingteng High School for a year. Now that the time is up, he has to leave.

The two stood one high and the other low in weird postures, almost suffocating Yu Huaile.

The young man standing at a low place blinked his eyes hard, the indifference disappeared from Tao Hua's eyes, only full of helplessness.

Jiang Song is really crazy, the quiet literary and artistic youth skin he wore at the beginning, but after he got familiar with it, he took off the skin himself.

Yu Huai seriously suspects that Jiang Song covered up his true attributes in the early stage of making friends because he was afraid that people would be annoyed by him and run away.

"Come, come, say something." Jiang Song happily snatched another microphone from Mo Yi's hand, and held it up to Yu Huai's mouth.

Yu Huai didn't feel fluctuated in his heart, and said something to the two microphones with a blank face.

"Thank you, I don't want to."

Before Jiang Song could move, Song Shicheng, who was sitting in the dark playing with his mobile phone, appeared from the side at some point and took Jiang Song away.

"Let me have a word with Xiaohuai. I'm going back to country Y, and I don't know if I can get in touch with you in the future."

"Didn't you just add him on WeChat?" Song Shicheng revealed it mercilessly.

"Of course, it is better to have offline contact in relationship."

"Alright. Take out your phone." Song Shicheng spread his hands.

Jiang Song asked vigilantly, "Why?"

"It's not that you said offline contact is better, then there is no need to contact online, delete WeChat friends."

"I don't! When I go back to country Y, I still have to chat with Xiao Huai all night. If you delete someone in my phone, I will tell Xiao Huai and let him treat you."

"You... your skin is itchy, right?" Song Shicheng narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"Ahhhhh, no, I was wrong about my father. Don't, don't hit me. Today is my farewell banquet. Is that why you treat me like this?"

The two were making a fuss here, Song Shicheng's classmate and bad friend Mo Yi quietly sat next to Yu Huai with juice.

"Here, I know you don't drink, so I specially took the juice."

Yu Huai thanked softly.

"You and Jiang Song have a common language. It's rare to see him talking about someone every day. This summer we go out to play, and we have to mention you every time."

"is it?"

Yu Huai didn't get along with Mo Yi much, so when he talked to Mo Yi, he was polite and polite, but he didn't have the familiarity when chatting with Jiang Song.

"Yeah." Mo Yi quietly observed the boy his good brother liked, and wondered why the boy talked wittily when discussing music with Jiang Song, but became silent to Lao Song and him.

In the dim KTV, colorful light beams swirled, adding a bit of lively atmosphere to the box, and also a bit more ambiguous.

Mo Yi turned his body sideways and glanced at the boy.

Today the boy is wearing a light blue fine-check shirt, with the cuffs loosely rolled up, exposing his slender and fair wrist joints, and that slender arm that seems to be easy to reach holds a clear glass, exuding a bit of disbelief. out of the charm.

Mo Yi's throat moved, feeling that the box full of lively voices had become noisy at the moment, and only by sitting next to the boy could he get a moment of tranquility.

Seeing that the young man's gaze skipped Song Shicheng and Jiang Song who were fighting, Mo Yi took a sip of wine and said.

"The two of them have always been this good."

"What about you?" Yu Huai asked suddenly.

"what?"

"You have a good relationship with both of them, don't you?"

"Hi! You don't know, Lao Song and Jiang Song grew up wearing a pair of underpants, and it's difficult for others to get in." Mo Yi said with a smile.

Yu Huai nodded, Mo Yi didn't know what he was thinking, and the two fell silent again.

Mo Yi was silent for a while, then suddenly asked.

"How do you feel about the two of them?"

Yu Huai felt that the question Mo Yi asked was a bit strange.

"pretty good."

"It's pretty good... Apart from this, how about other feelings?"