Live broadcast to save the United States

The trip to the north went smoothly. Although the journey was far away, Yoshio Fuchinoue and Dostoevsky arrived in Russia smoothly by sea.

Russia is sparsely populated and has a vast territory. It was already two months after Jiasheng and Dostoevsky arrived in Moscow, and their dusty clothes and hats were covered with frost.

Dostoevsky stood on the Red Square and looked around. He remembered this place, and he also remembered that he was taken by his guardian to play when he was young. The tall steeple bell tower was covered with frost, freezing time. The colorful Ferris wheel in the amusement park not far away also casts a pale shadow. Opposite the high red wall, there used to be a large shopping mall with people coming and going, but the gate has been smashed, and the goods and furniture inside It fell to the ground in a mess, and everything that could be moved was emptied, leaving only goods that were not very useful and inconvenient to move.

Dostoevsky dragged Jiasheng Yuanzhang forward. Although he hadn’t returned to China for many years, there was still no change here. He could clearly tell which shop it used to be, such as this clothing store. In the past, it was actually a grocery store selling red sausages, which he liked very much, and for example, this store used to sell cotton candy.

There are also some shops that have not left. Dostoevsky stood in front of a shop. This shop is not as messy as other clothing stores and food stores, but the wooden shelves, tables and chairs that can be used for heating have been removed. , while the goods that are not very useful are still quietly lying on the glass windows and hanging on the walls.

——This is a musical instrument store. The piano that has been covered with a layer of frost in the corner has been left here because it is too bulky. Those musical instruments would not last long as firewood.

But who can say that those who took away those expensive musical instruments did something wrong? They just want to survive. Before survival, food and warmth are the most important. People left it behind.

"It's such a pity..." Jiasheng Fuchinoue sighed softly. He glanced at the remaining musical instruments, as if he could see through these things the bustling appearance of this musical instrument store before the end. The musical instruments try to play the music, and the owner will introduce the characteristics and timbres of the musical instruments to the guests...

"Speaking of which, after the apocalypse, it seems that I have never heard music again."

Jiasheng Yuanzhang remembered it in a daze.

He has been running around to solve the doomsday before, and music is just a dispensable thing for Jiasheng Yuanzhi, and it doesn't matter if he loses it, but when he sees these products of human wisdom and spiritual civilization being destroyed Forgotten and discarded, the burgundy-haired boy's heart moved slightly. He tried to open the piano cover on one side of the corner, but because the ice and snow had frozen the entire piano, his attempts were in vain.

Moreover, even if it is opened, the extremely low temperature has already caused the piano to completely lose its pitch, and even if it is thawed again, it will not be able to produce the beautiful tone it used to be.

"Would you like to hear music?" asked Dostoevsky instead.

"I did have this idea after seeing this musical instrument store." Yoshio Fuchinoue smiled sheepishly, "But these musical instruments probably won't work anymore, the temperature here is too low."

Dostoevsky shook his head. He walked to a certain window, looked at it quietly for a while, and then said, "This bayan is still usable, but it needs to be thawed."

Bayanqin is a Russian national musical instrument, which is a kind of accordion, but it is different from the previous keyboard accordion, it is a button accordion, and has a wide range that cannot be compared with the traditional keyboard accordion.

Dostoevsky picked the lock on the window, and the frozen lock fell off. The black-haired Russian carefully removed the instrument from the shelf without causing much broken glass. down.

Bayan was not too big, and most of it was made of metal, so it couldn't be used as firewood. Perhaps it was because of this that he escaped unharmed.

With this bayanqin, they returned to the place where they temporarily stayed, lit the fire, and let the warm flame melt away the frost and snow that had condensed on the bayanqin. A small puddle of water meanders out.

Jiasheng Yuanzhi had never heard the bayanqin before. He looked curiously at this musical instrument that was similar to but different from the accordion, and asked, "Can you play this musical instrument?"

Dostoevsky wiped the water on the bayan with a clean towel, thought for a while and replied: "I have learned a little before. My guardian believes that music can cultivate sentiment and make people's spirit peaceful, so he taught Me, but I only know a few pieces, and I have never touched the bayanqin since I left.”

Dostoevsky didn't know if he still remembered fingering, neither was he a professional music connoisseur, nor was he a professional performer, but at this moment, Yoshio Fuchinoue wanted to hear it, he wanted to play , which is sufficient.

Under the warmth of the flame and Dostoyevsky's meticulous wiping and conditioning, Bayan quickly revealed its original brilliance. The Russian with black hair and purple eyes pulled tentatively, although it was inevitable that he would suffer from the cold. It lost a bit of timbre, but it was not hoarse and unpleasant. The extremely wide range and penetrating sound of a few notes immediately pierced the silent night sky, and also dispelled a bit of the coldness and silence.

"It's barely usable." Dostoyevsky stretched his brows and eyes slightly. He was sitting on a wooden streetside chair covered with linoleum and was trying to play with gloves on, but because the thick gloves were too It was bloated and inconvenient, so Dostoevsky directly took off the gloves, and soon those slender hands turned red from the freezing temperature.

But Dostoevsky looked calm, as if the coldness was nothing, his fingers danced briskly on Bayan's keys, and soon a melodious and clear tone sounded, in the dark night Like the ripples of being thrown into the stone, it rippled outward in circles.

Dostoevsky played "Night on the outskirts of Moscow". This famous song is really suitable for the current atmosphere. They sat on the empty Red Square in Moscow, there was silence everywhere, and the leaves were no longer there. There was rustling, only the music was echoing, blowing the ends of their hair.

[Hei Mu in the world: ...he can play an instrument, and he plays it very well, I dare not see everything in front of me! 】

[Is it a cat or a tiger: Sure enough, human beings are very complicated... You are such a person, but you can play such a beautiful song...]

[If you don't go to get off work, you don't have to go to work: It's really a person who can't be judged by his appearance...]

[Chicken breaks the cat: Hehe, what does this sound like, it doesn't sound good at all! 】

[Even with dark circles, she is still a beauty: To be fair, a man who plays an instrument seriously is a plus. 】

[Doctor Hatchet: And a man who is willing to play an instrument for me is even more divided. 】

[Gorgeous rose made of poured steel: This enemy is very strong, let's work hard, everyone! 】

【If God Was a Clown: What a nostalgic song...】

Jiasheng Yuanzhi closed his eyes, listening and admiring quietly, and occasionally even hummed softly along with it.

Dostoevsky's fingering was still very stiff and jerky at the beginning, but soon, perhaps arousing the memory of the muscle stamp, his playing became smoother and more calm, and the smooth notes came from the bayan body. It poured out, and the rhythm of the jump also made Jiasheng Fuchinoue's heart beat along with it.

After playing "Evening in the Suburbs of Moscow", Dostoevsky did not stop, but played other pieces, from "Farewell to the Slavic Woman" to "Birch Forest", and "Katyu Sha, these classic songs poured out in his hands, together with the memories that he thought he had forgotten, gushing out under the night.

Jiasheng Yuanzhi let out a deep breath, his chest seemed to be stuffy, and the notes of the movement replaced his turbulent emotions, hovering in the sky, this song is faintly lonely but clear and melodious The movement, the endless aftertaste penetrates the night sky, as if to pierce all the way into the endless darkness.

There seems to be something surging in the darkness, and the music sounded on the frozen land flies upwards, it seems that it has really turned into a sharp blade, smashing the black curtain that makes all human beings struggle to survive—— No, that was not an illusion. The originally dark sky was really vibrating constantly, and there were waves of ripples that seemed to be wrinkled by the wind. Standing up, his voice was a little broken due to excessive excitement: "Fei Jia! Keep playing and don't stop!"

Dostoevsky also saw the rippling ripples. The reason why they can be seen with the naked eye is because those ripples are golden like the sun!His heart trembled, and he also stood up, playing non-stop, and looked at the sky with Jiasheng Yuanzhi.

There are more and more ripples, and the amplitude of the shock is getting bigger and bigger, and the strands of golden threads are gradually lighting up the sky.

People all over the world who are still running outside to survive have noticed this particularly obvious light. They raised their heads one after another and looked at the sky with anticipation and hope—is the curtain on the sky going to disappear?Can they finally feel the heat of the sun again?

Dostoevsky's hands were already red and swollen from the cold, but he didn't stop, because this was the first time that the sky appeared strange after the end, and it might be related to the music. He didn't dare to stop, and he couldn't stop.

Yoshio Uchinogami looked at the sky nervously, until Dostoevsky had played all the music he had played so far, and he really couldn't remember the other music scores, so he could only play the music he had played before again. play the sheet music again.

'You have played this one. 'A voice that came from nowhere echoed in the sky. The voice was melodious and far away, but it was obviously not human, and it was impossible to see who made it, but the voice penetrated easily. The space reached the ears of Dostoyevsky and Jia Sheng on the Yuan.

Dostoevsky's throat tightened at that moment, and a sharp regret pierced his heart. If he annoyed this unknown being by repeating the music, would human beings be punished more harshly and cruelly? treat?

Even the devil, who has always been calm and calm and can freely manipulate people's hearts, lost his voice at this moment because of his own guessing. He kept panting, trying to calm himself down, but the filter he carried with him was limited in the amount of air he could filter. , he ingested a slightly excessive amount of carbon dioxide during his shortness of breath, which made Dostoevsky's eyes dizzy and his temples throbbing with pain.

Jiasheng Yuanzhi took over the conversation and replied instead of Dostoyevsky who lost his voice. It was just because of the sudden hope that he was not much better, and he replied in a tight voice: "Sorry, my lord, my lord. The traveling companion is not a professional musician, so he only knows these few pieces of music, if you want to hear more pieces, I can find a way for you."

If the disappearance of the sun's rays is really related to this unknown lord, then even if Jiasheng Yuan searched all over the world, he still had to satisfy the other person's needs.

'I see. 'This voice is very easy to speak,' I traveled here and fell asleep accidentally because I was too tired, but your music woke me up and kept me from forgetting my business. '

"What's your business? May I take the liberty to ask, what is your business?"

Dostoevsky also regained his composure. He looked towards the sky and asked with a slightly raised voice.

'sure. ' the voice replied gently, 'I'm a stellar performer who travels the universe in search of the best places to play. '

"Is the earth the stage you chose to play? Then why do you block the sun and make mankind face the end and fall into despair?"

After all, Yoshio Fuchinogami was still young, and when he heard that all the suffering and pain was caused by an unknown existence for playing, his voice was inevitably filled with accusations and doubts—there was no conspiracy, It's not intentional, it's just because the earth is the stage it needs, but human beings have suffered disasters because of its behavior. Even though the base was built in time, there are still a large number of human beings who fell on the road and were killed. Buried in the icy snow.

"Earth is indeed the best stage to play, but I didn't intend to let you fall into despair, it's just because I was too tired, when I rested on your planet, I forgot that some creatures on the planet can't lose the sun, really I'm very sorry. '

The stellar virtuoso replied that it was very polite and even offered to apologize for it, but that made it even more desperate.

The people who first heard this sound rushed to the window, or to a place close to the sky, and they heard the reply of the stellar performer, who seemed to be talking to it, and human beings also got from its reply why the end of the world would The reason for coming.

Crying, cursing, resentment, hatred, and wailing permeated the crowd. Ordinary people suffered from the unwarranted disasters they suffered. Extraordinary people felt their own insignificance and fragility. When resting, they forget that there are still creatures that need sunlight; and at the extreme, they regard the star performer as a god, kneel down and beg for its forgiveness and mercy, so that human beings can be saved.