[Entertainment] Chen Guang

All the public itinerary is over, the news of the company's recruitment is released, Min Yunqi's family came to Seoul to accompany him, Jin Suozhen booked the ticket to go home, and Kim Taejin checked the travel plan on the mobile phone for a long time...every day Individuals seem to enrich their lives to a high-sounding level.

Song Zechen wrote a lot of songs listlessly, the content was extremely depressed, but for the first time, Fang Shihe, who was devastated, did not criticize him for not being sunny and positive, and sighed at him after listening silently.

But Song Zechen doesn’t care much anymore. Recently, he just writes songs for the sake of not being unfamiliar. It’s better to occupy some of the brain’s memory than nothing. I clicked on a group chat that was a little deserted recently, read the chat history, and wrote a few lyrics with software. Chat with friends far away.

Tian Zhengguo finished talking on the phone with his elder brother at home in the corner, took a deep breath and left, and suddenly stopped.

Song Zechen stood at the end of the corridor, the light and shadow intertwined just right, like a delicate oil painting.

Tian Zhengguo was about to stretch out his hand and wave it vigorously to say hello, when he suddenly found that Song Zechen seemed to be on the phone too, so he took it back in embarrassment.He heard Song Zechen's voice soaked in warm water, wet and tired:

"Alan, I won't be going to America for now."

The words on the other side were probably very intense, because Song Zechen's tone of voice increased unconsciously:

"They didn't waste my time. You're exaggerating."

"Do you want me to be mad at you?"

Finally, Song Zechen's words that belonged exclusively to the two of them made the other party seem to calm down immediately, because Song Zechen didn't reply many words to appease the other party's emotions.

His fingers tapped lightly and rhythmically on the railing, and then he stood there quietly, like a lush tree, gazing into the distance very gently, but Tian Zhengguo's eyes were stung inexplicably, frozen A bright red mole in his heart.

Tian Zhengguo took a step back into the shadows, and returned to the practice room the same way. He forgot his original purpose for a moment, rubbed his sore eyes, and sat down in a daze.

When it was time for the company to go on vacation, everyone in the dormitory was packing their luggage, and Song Zechen was no exception.Fang Shihe deliberately hoped that they would rest for a while, and put it a bit sarcasticly, who knows if the next meeting will be in the office to discuss dissolution.

Song Zechen didn't stay at the end this year. He discussed the itinerary with his family and booked air tickets for the destination.Kneeling and sitting on the floor in the room, there is a large suitcase next to it, and many small sundries have been neatly placed.

Tian Zhengguo had nothing to do in the practice room for a long time, but decided to go back to the dormitory.Glancing at the back of Song Zechen inside the door, they walked in and knelt down to help fold the clothes, folded them a few times, smoothed the corners carefully, and asked Song Zechen pretending to be casual: "Where are you going after returning to grandpa's house?"

Song Zechen was struggling with the lint on his sweater, and replied casually: "I plan to go to China for a while, and I thought so last year."

"Oh." Tian Zhengguo nodded, "Then have fun."

Song Zechen didn't reply, Tian Zhengguo turned his head to look at his quiet side face, inexplicably weak, and the pleasant fragrance from his body got into his nose.

Tian Zhengguo felt as if a glass of sour vegetable juice had been poured into his heart.

pat.

The trunk closes.

Song Zechen finally turned his face to Tian Zhengguo, and gently rubbed the brows of Tian Zhengguo's unconscious frown with his thumb: "Practice the piano well."

Tian Zhengguo has been clamoring to make a song by himself since the beginning of last year, and gradually learned to make beats, and he has made rapid progress with his piano learning.

Before I knew it, a year had passed.

I want you to teach me.

Tian Zhengguo muttered in his heart, but he still didn't speak in the end, and nodded quietly with a smile on his face.

Song Zechen noticed Tian Zhengguo's depressed mood, stroked his hair, stared carefully at his eyes, and confirmed that there were no water stains: "Maybe I can hear your first draft when I come back, right?"

The art of speaking is to appease Tian Zhengguo and they will meet again, and express his expectations for Tian Zhengguo from a certain aspect. Of course, he believes that Tian Zhengguo is such a self-disciplined person that he will not relax, but talk is better than nothing.

Tian Zhengguo nodded obediently, tried to speak but stopped several times before returning to calm.

After eating peacefully, going to bed peacefully, saying goodbye to Song Zechen who dragged his suitcase out of the dormitory the next day calmly, turned around calmly and wiped away the overflowing tears.

In fact, Song Zechen didn't stay at his grandfather's house for many days. After packing up simple clothes and daily necessities, he was about to start his journey again.A long time ago, when he was chatting with his grandfather, he talked about thinking about traveling by himself or with him. Taking advantage of this time period, he booked a flight ticket on a whim in the sleepless night, and wanted to go wandering hypocritically and indulgently.

"They don't speak Chinese or Korean there, so I'm a little worried about you." The old man chatted with him who finally checked whether the documents were complete, nagging worriedly.

Song Zechen subconsciously wanted to tidy up the old man's white hair, but the other party did it neatly, and he added chaos when he started.Putting down his hands embarrassingly, bent down, and surrounded the old man with the beautiful forearm line and arm curvature: "Grandpa, how old am I, I have long wanted to go there."

"Forget it, I'm getting older, I can't control you anymore." Grandpa sighed and waved his hands helplessly.

Song Zechen put his face on the old man's shoulders, twisted his posture, closed his eyes so that his long eyelashes touched his cheeks, and lowered his voice gently, like a bird that was afraid of disturbing the branches outside the window: "It's been a long time I have an idea, let me try it. You are taking medicine recently, and the plateau is not suitable for you.”

' "Okay." A sigh.

"Then I'm leaving." Song Zechen parted reluctantly.

The old man watched his grandson go away by the door frame, simply carrying a schoolbag and stepping on canvas shoes, just like saying goodbye to him when he left home and entered a small company to develop an unknown future.

The brilliance of the setting sun made Song Zechen's hair fluffy at the edges, and the orange-red light seemed to pour a layer of syrup, but he also knew that his grandson might not taste any sweetness at the moment.

Tall and thin, with slender ankles exposed, his back is still straight even when he walks with his head down. When he was a child, he spent a lot of effort on educating Song Zechen on etiquette, even at the expense of strict education.Song Zechen wanted to be strong since he was a child, and when he was said to be cruel, he occasionally burst into tears, silently writing down the habit that became a deep-rooted habit.Sometimes he often regrets why his education is like this. If Song Zechen's temperament is not restrained, will he be much happier than now.

It took more than an hour from his grandfather's house to Incheon Airport. Song Zechen got into the car, and the driver was the company's manager. He heard that he was going to go on a long trip and came here to see him off.

A few years ago, the company was getting better and better, and when there were many combinations, the company assigned a broker to each of them.Song Zechen's counting time has also been with him for several years, and he is a brother he trusts very much.

The traffic flow in Seoul at this moment is not as grand as it is during the evening rush hour. The vehicles on the road show a rare leisurely mood and move forward slowly.

The afternoon sun was like mellow black tea, Song Zechen leaned against the glass window, half of his face was covered in the orange sunlight, staining his hair and pupils with a beautiful halo.

The radio station played the melodious blues jazz, flowing sadly all over the body, Song Zechen said softly:

"Brother, how long can you work by my side?"

The manager was taken aback by the question, and opened his mouth to find that it was inappropriate to say anything.

"I made it difficult for you by asking." Song Zechen's apologetic voice sounded again.

"It's okay, of course I hope I can continue walking with you." The manager turned off the radio, shrugged and smiled.

"Brother, let's prepare with both hands." Song Zechen's voice was rustling, and his eyes were full of sparkling water lines.

When the agent saw him like this through the rearview mirror, the light shining on him was completely separated from his whole body.It’s just the light, he’s him, there’s no feeling of warmth at all, just like the surface of a lake in winter, accidentally discovering that the place that hasn’t frozen is also a pool of stagnant water, mixed with a lot of boulders.

To Song Zechen, the process of arriving at the airport was like taking a taxi. It would be even easier if there was no checked luggage.

Because he wanted to chat with the agent for a while, he didn't go to the security check first, and sat on a chair waiting for the agent to run to buy a small glass of orange juice for him.

"Thank you brother." Song Zechen unscrewed the bottle cap contentedly. There was no "Thank you for your patronage" or "one more bottle" in the empty inner cap. He jokingly suggested, "Next time I should buy one with a lottery. I'm lucky and often draw As a child, he became the most popular person in the class."

The agent nodded in cooperation with a smile, and picked up Song Zechen's bag behind his back: "It's too light, you bring too little, is it inconvenient to buy things there?"

"I don't know, everything depends on fate." Song Zechen saw the red time reminder on the big screen, hurriedly got up and said goodbye, put his bag on his back and followed the signs.

The golden flow of people at the airport matches the sunset, as if walking into a long corridor of time.Song Zechen was at the end of the line, trying to look back, and waved vigorously to the manager in sight. The dimples on his face with the sun shining like grass growing wantonly under the camera.

He looked at the agent and smiled, and returned to every team's plane trip in a trance. He often complained about the fatigue of long-distance planes and was not used to the suffocation in a small space.

Those people would laugh and let him stand at the front of the line, poke his waist and put a neck pillow on him, or occasionally tell a few silly jokes, just to relieve his boredom before boarding the plane.

He kept pointing his head towards the back of the line.

Chatting with them, and occasionally being poked in the waist in a funny way, I realized that I was far behind the person in front of me.He suddenly realized he was embarrassed to apologize to the waiting airport staff, and the few behind him made faces and laughed at his fake stare.

Outside the window of the bright airport hall, a plane slowly taxied and finally rushed into the sky, leaving a thread of entanglement in the sky, pulling out people's nostalgia, longing and farewell.

Song Zechen continued to smile quietly with him, then turned and walked into the security check area without looking back.

From Seoul to Lhasa.

It seemed to be another silent farewell.