Son of the Bone

Jiang Jue woke up suddenly on Thursday night.

He sat up abruptly, startled Qi Lin who was sleeping on his back beside him: "What's the matter, what's the matter, did you have a nightmare!"

"I know!" Jiang Jue jumped out of bed, drew a picture hastily and calculated a formula, turned his head and said: "This house is not only a chess board, but also a double lever of Tic Tac Toe."

Dismantling a mechanism will destroy the stability of the three sides. The only solution is to walk from the rooftop, so the moment of rushing out from the rooftop is finally filmed!

"So I didn't make a mistake in the script. The murderer is the guest, and the guest who always creates danger is also the guest!"

what house?

Qi Lin rubbed his hair sleepily: "Don't tell me you're thinking about problems in your dreams."

Jiang Jue turned off the desk lamp, sat back on the bed with bare feet, touched his face: "I seem to be too excited, sorry."

After all, I have been doubting my ability to understand for the past few days.

"But it's really that guest who set up the scheme behind the scenes—" he couldn't help but said again.

The analysis of the entire network is overwhelmingly pointing to the decorator, but he figured out all the plots in the middle of the night alone, and suddenly there is a feeling that everyone is drunk and I am alone.

No wonder the director didn't talk to him about the play. There are too many twists and turns in it. If you don't figure it out on your own, you won't be able to explain it clearly for three days.

Sure enough, scripts written by science students rely on calculations...

After Qi Lin confirmed that he was fine, he fell back on the bed: "Can you tell me?"

Jiang Jue shook his head: "I can't explain clearly."

Accompanied by him lying down, Qi Lin hugged him tightly automatically, said something in a low voice, I don't believe it, and fell asleep again drowsily.

This matter came to an end for the time being, the school midterm exams came again, and the weather began to turn cold.

Ms. Wu enthusiastically knitted a pair of hats and gloves for the two of them, and even the designs and colors were black and white for couples.

Although there is no snow in November, the dry and cold wind is like a knife.

Qi Lin entered a more busy songwriting period, and began to pace the dormitory like a poet, with a stack of manuscripts, and was still changing the lyrics of several songs.

He will go to New York for the official recording next month, and he will have to settle all productions in about a week, and then start to release the album and prepare for the concert.

If it goes well, maybe the schedule can be brought forward, and the concert can be moved to New Year's Eve.

Creating this kind of thing is sometimes not slow work and meticulous work, but like a computer downloading things in a room with unstable internet speed.

If you don't take advantage of the 10mb/s period to record and save all the inspiration you can extract in one breath, and wait for the Internet speed to float to 400kb and then slowly download it, it will indeed come a little bit like squeezing toothpaste.

Han Han used an incisive and weird adjective in "Three Doors", calling Wen Siru a diabetes insipidus.

Qi Lin is probably in this state of drinking too much, and can write anxiously until midnight every day.

Jiang Jue found that sometimes he even forgot to eat, so he consciously started to help him take care of his life, brought him meals and fruits, and sometimes even helped him feed.

After Qi Lin changed the lyrics, he would read it to him again. Jiang Jue blushed more and more as he listened to it, almost wanting to escape.

So someone who succeeded leaned over and said with bright eyes, "Am I very suitable to be a poet?"

I am afraid that this song will become a wedding hit when it is written.

Jiang Jue covered his face and said nothing, feeling his cheeks were extremely hot.

"You don't like it...then I will delete it."

"Don't." He was rather embarrassed: "The writing...is really good."

However, Qi Lin bid farewell to all activities and became a literary otaku, so Jiang Jue could only go shopping alone.

Lin Jiuguang had to prepare for the mid-term performance with the original 15th grade administrative class, and he was usually stuck in the rehearsal room and couldn't get out.

When Jiang Jue passed by the West District with a bag of fruit alone, he found an old man playing on a swing.

The old man was wearing a dark black windbreaker. Although his hair was gray, he combed it neatly. He looked neat and gentle.

He was swinging on the swing for a while, and his eyes were on the boys running wildly playing basketball on the playground.

Jiang Jue hesitated for a moment, but still walked over.

As the distance gradually approached, he finally saw who it was: "Professor Yan?"

The old man squinted his eyes to see the children shooting in the distance, but he realized it was him when he heard the sound.

"Jiang Jue?" He glanced at the fruit in his hand: "I don't like grapefruit."

Jiang Jue silently took the grapefruit out of the bag, and carefully gave him all the fruit in the bag.

The old man took a look at what was inside, but still accepted it.

"Sit down." He gave him a banana and said calmly.

Jiang Jue took the banana and saw that there were no stools nearby, so he had to sit on the swing next to him.

Professor Yan's hair is all white, and the age spots on his face are quite obvious.

He seemed to be in good spirits, but spoke very slowly.

"Is it made public?"

"Yeah." Jiang Jue weighed his words carefully: "We have thought about what you told us last time."

"What are you going to do next?" Professor Yan swayed on the swing, eating the banana slowly.

Jiang Jue tried to find an answer, but still didn't make it up temporarily, and said truthfully, "Maybe we're still waiting."

Waiting for a satisfactory film appointment, and "Longevity" in March next year.

As for what to do after the filming of "Longevity", he actually has no idea.

Graduate students may not take the exam, but when a good script will come, it may always be unknown.

There are actually only a handful of excellent film directors in China, and the father, who has produced high-quality scripts and novels for a long time, fell silent and concentrated on accompanying his mother to recover.

Which direction should the next road go... In fact, I really have no idea.

Yan Si shook the swing unhurriedly, and said, "You and Qi Lin have stood at the end of many people since the beginning of the race."

You don’t have to worry about not being able to find a job after graduation, you don’t have the pressure of mortgages and car loans, and your parents are lenient and don’t rush to get married and have children.

Even people in the entertainment industry don't have to sacrifice anything in exchange for film contracts, they are born with almost the best resources.

It's like ordinary tourists queuing up in the playground to play. Maybe they haven't experienced all the items before it's time to leave.

But two people took the fast pass directly, and spent an hour playing all the items that others had to queue up for an afternoon.

What about the rest of the time?

Celebrities drink, gamble, and take drugs, partly because of this.

They have easily acquired everything that others have worked so hard to have, and the great sense of emptiness and worthlessness can become a nightmare to exist.

Jiang Jue didn't speak for a long time.

Yan Si turned to look at his expression, and said again: "When judging "Dragon Blood Seal", there was a difference of one vote."

Jiang Jue froze for a moment, realizing that he was also a judge for the Golden Wutong Award.

"I can vaguely feel that the scene where you died at the end was improvised." Yan Si held the rope of the swing, speaking unhurriedly.

As long as he votes for other people, Jiang Jue will no longer have the chance to be the film king.

"What I thought at the time was that if you won this award, you might never be able to perform this kind of look again in the future."

Because that's a completely random thing.

To maintain that state of inspiration for a long time depends on long-term polishing and real enlightenment.

The current Jiang Jue is just following the script when acting.

Jiang Jue realized how precious this matter was, stopped the swing and said seriously: "Thank you."

"Your overall ability is not worthy of that award."

Although the appearance is good, the performance of the competitors in the same session is also not good.

"But at least the silent explosion at that moment is worth it." Yan Si shrugged, looked at him and said, "But there will be no next time."

Jiang Jue realized that he was admonishing himself, stood up and bowed to the old man.

"I remember."

"Since you don't know what to do in the future, go ask who you want to be." Yan Si said slowly, "Don't wait any longer."

"Wait, wait, there's no time."

The long wind whipped up the fallen leaves all over the place, and the bright red five-pointed maple leaves swirled in mid-air like a cardinal.

Jiang Jue made a rather long bow, and he responded silently.

When he returned to the dormitory with the grapefruit in his arms, he found Qi Lin was waiting for him.

"What's the matter?" Seeing that he was holding the guitar and not playing it, Jiang Jue closed the door and asked, "What did Teacher Qin say?"

"No," Qi Lin looked curiously at the grapefruit in his arms, pointed to the walnut kernels that had been packed beside him, and said, "I want to record my last song with you."

Jiang Jue looked at all the equipment and equipment already in place, and realized that he was really not joking.

If the demo comes out well, they will actually go to New York to record the song together.

"My singing pitch is not very good—" he tried to push it away: "and the pitch is not stable."

"No, let's record a cappella." Qi Lin led him to the guitar stand, and pointed to the score next to it: "You know the melody, right?"

Jiang Jue nodded, looked at the stave again, pointed to a certain bar and said, "How should I sing this ornament?"

Qi Lin demonstrated with the guitar in his arms, turned on the recording equipment, plucked a chord and said, "Start with the bass."

The so-called a cappella, is a cappella.

One person can be in charge of different voice parts, editing high and low sounds of different lengths together so that they can reflect and resonate with each other.

Qi Lin's voice has a gentle youthful feel, with a bright and warm texture like sunshine.

And Jiang Jue's voice is cold and deep, and there is a sense of storytelling in a low voice when he sings.

Qi Lin held a chopstick and pointed to different voices segment by segment, teaching him to record segment by segment.

Jiang Jue is in charge of two basses and two altos, while Qi Lin is in charge of the other mids, trebles and modifiers.

Then the violin soloed for a section, which was subtly and tactfully inserted.

They recorded from afternoon to night, almost like two little boys playing together.

Seeing Qi Lin smiling and singing, Jiang Jue suddenly envied him.

This little sun, I am afraid, will never be confused.

It's so warm to lean against him.