There is a period in the dream

On the third day after Cao Zixin introduced the job, Meng Heyu went to the tavern, carried a piano on his back, and waited anxiously at the door.

The tavern is called Jinzunli. Meng Heyu looked it up on the Internet. The name of the tavern should be taken from Li Bai's poem.I only wish that when the song meets the wine, the moonlight will always shine in the golden cup.

I have to remember this line of poetry later, Meng Heyu thought, if he asks about it, he won't be too flustered.

Like all nervous students before the exam, Meng Heyu kept simulating possible answers in his mind, rehearsing over and over again, just because he wanted this job so much.

Not to mention that he can get off work at ten o'clock, and still make his favorite music.

Meng Heyu said that he was not interested in the stage, but in his heart he was still very nostalgic for the stage years in college.Otherwise, he wouldn't have bought a guitar immediately after moving to a new home.

After all, singing is his best and favorite thing.Ever since he could remember, the teachers who loved him the most in school were all teaching music.

Every second of waiting was dragged infinitely long, and finally someone pulled up the gate, met Meng Heyu with a glance, stared blankly, and looked up and down.

Meng Heyu immediately introduced himself: "I saw a job advertisement at the door, looking for a singer."

The boss squinted his eyes. She was a beautiful and petite woman. The corners of her eyes and brows were full of charm. When she squinted her eyes, there was a faint coquettish look like a fox: "Do you want to apply?"

Meng Heyu nodded earnestly.

"Then come in." The voice was lazy, as if he hadn't woken up.

The iron gate was only pulled halfway, and the proprietress had no intention of continuing to pull it up, so Meng Heyu half-bent down and got in from under the gate.

The lamps at the bar are too dark and too bright. The half-open gate is the main light source, but it can only illuminate half of the world.

In this half-dark tavern, the proprietress brought a chair for Meng and Yula, and she sat opposite him, leaning softly on the table with one hand resting on her cheek, spitting out two One word: "Sing."

Meng and Yu breathed deeply together, and only then could they smell the faint fragrance of jasmine in the tavern.

"Let me sing a Russian nursery rhyme." He smiled shyly.

Not all nursery rhymes, Meng Heyu added a few new chords, changed the interludes, and almost reinterpreted the entire song.

For those who don't understand the lyrics, this should be a love song, lingering and affectionate.

However, the content of the lyrics has nothing to do with love and love.This is a song that tells children to come home quickly, where there is a fireplace, bread, and a family that will always love you.

When Meng Heyu sang to the point of emotion, there was a faint cry in his singing.

Tang Manqiu gradually straightened up, and opened her half-closed eyes.

The half-open iron gate only illuminates half of the world, and Meng Heyu sits in this half of the bright world.

Her hair was black to the extreme, and even in the sunlight she couldn't see any variegated color.His skin was as white as snow, and the blue veins on his arm could be clearly seen.His whole body is like a statue carved out of crystal, clear and fragile.

Lang Run's voice echoed and lingered in his ears, as smooth as pearls, and also had an indescribable etherealness.

Meng Heyu's singing seemed not to be singing, but a kind of spiritual thing, which filled the sea like mist, and anyone who probed inside would be dragged into the depths of the sea.

into the depths of his eyes.

With the final sound of the strings vibrating, Meng Heyu ended the nursery rhyme.

Sit quietly and wait for the lady boss to reply, and also wait for myself to calm down.He took a few deep breaths of the scent of jasmine hidden in the air.

It took Tang Manqiu a while to recover, and asked him solemnly, "How far can you sing?"

Meng Heyu scratched his head, "E3, 4, it's the limit."

Tang Manqiu secretly sighed as he was still an untrained ordinary person, wasting his god-given voice.

Tang Manqiu came here to open the tavern after he resigned from the art school. It has been five or six years now. The notice for recruiting singers has been posted at the door since the opening. Young people who come to apply for the job come and go. Only Meng Heyu is Her favorite.

Just listening to Meng Heyu singing, Tang Manqiu vaguely saw his idol Vitas in his youth, a famous Russian tenor.

Of course, Meng Heyu's skill is not as profound as that of Vitas. He has received professional training since he was a child.No matter how talented Meng Heyu is, if he misses the golden age of cultivation, he will miss it.

Fortunately, some remedies can be done.

"What's your name?" Tang Manqiu laughed and leaned forward.

Finally found a satisfying new job, Meng Heyu was so excited, he remembered it in his dream, and happily told Zhong Chengming that he started singing again.

Only then did Zhong Chengming realize that Meng Heyu knew how to sing, so he rubbed his soft black hair and asked him to hum a few lines to listen.

Meng Heyu sat up from Zhong Chengming's arms, coughed twice to clear his throat, and asked Zhong Chengming what he wanted to hear.

"Anything is fine." Zhong Chengming would not refuse anyone who came.

"Then I will make an offering of love."

Just kidding, Meng Heyu took it very seriously when he showed his talent in front of his boyfriend for the first time.He borrowed the piano from Zhong Chengming, and of course what he sang was not the offering of love, but the Russian nursery rhyme he sang in front of Tang Manqiu today.

After the song was over, waiting nervously for the evaluation, one spine was tense: "How is it? Do you like it?"

Zhong Chengming replaced the answer with a movement: He picked up Meng Heyu, pressed them into the sofa, and kissed deeply.

When Meng Heyu was almost out of breath, Zhong Chengming finally let go of him, but his body was still pressed against him, his lips pressed against his white ears, full of love and desire, and there was nowhere to rest, every word It's obsession: "Xiao Meng...Xiao Meng..."

The warm breath came down, staining Meng Heyu's ears red.

There was a reaction where the two of them touched each other.

Zhong Chengming's five fingers clenched the armrest of the sofa so tightly that his knuckles turned white. It seemed that he had put in a lot of effort to endure.

And Meng Heyu closed his eyes, not daring to look at Zhong Chengming, let alone the bulging cloth under him.He could vaguely guess that the size of the cloth covering the head was appalling, and Meng Heyu was first afraid of it.

Then there was a trace of extremely secret expectation.

Zhong Chengming finally sat up slowly. In critical moments, he was always able to maintain his sanity.

"You sing very well," Zhong Chengming suppressed his hoarse voice, "I like it very much."

Meng Heyu stared at the tiled floor, and replied shyly, "I like it... just like it, I never knew what you liked about me."

It was only then that Zhong Chengming remembered that Meng Heyu had never asked this classic question between lovers: What do you like about me?

"You can ask me directly." Zhong Chengming reminded.

Meng Heyu sighed: "But I haven't even figured out what I like you! I have never had an ideal type, just a list of conditions. There are so many people in this world, and there must be many who can meet them. Why does it have to be What about this one?"

Meng Heyu has never had a chance to say these words. Since the beginning of their relationship, he has been immersed in that light and intoxicated state, and has no time to examine the theoretical basis of this relationship.

Given the opportunity today, Meng Heyu asked naturally: "Zhong Chengming, do you like me to sing well? But many people sing well! Why do you like me?"

Zhong Chengming's answer made Meng Heyu even more confused:

"I like you like heaven."

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It's better to let them fall in love for a while, and don't quarrel so quickly...

I was terrified by Zhong Geying’s writing, I hope you don’t lock me up!