When ordinary people pass wine, they will subconsciously pass it to the right hand. Song Ci and Han Zhan had never eaten together, so she certainly didn't know that Han Zhan wrote with his left hand and ate with his left hand.
But Song Ci directly handed the wine glass to Han Zhan's left arm, obviously knowing that Han Zhan was left-handed.
How did she know?
Han Zhan hid the deep thought in his eyes, took the wine with his left hand, raised the glass and wished Song Ci: "Because of you, the starry sky is more brilliant. Miss Song, happy birthday."
Song Ci: "Thank you."
She lifted the hem of her skirt and turned around gracefully, her figure weaving among the beautiful women in gorgeous clothes.
Ten minutes later, the dinner officially began and Song Ci walked onto the stage carrying a violin.
Song Ci played the violin very beautifully, and her skills were beyond Han Zhan's expectations. Even he, who had no musical talent, was mesmerized by the sound of Song Ci's violin.
Song Ci played the theme song "Theme-From-Schindler's-List" from the movie Schindler's List. Han Zhan had seen that movie, and when he heard this song, he felt a little sad.
This kind of music is not suitable to be played at a birthday party.
There were tears in Song Ci's eyes, but she controlled her emotions very well and didn't really cry. But when she finished playing the song and raised the bow, a tear fell on the strings.
It's just that the light was too bright and no one noticed.
The applause was thunderous, and Han Zhan heard Li Li say in his ear: "It's a pity that Miss Song doesn't become a star."
Han Zhan looked at the Song Dynasty porcelain on the high platform, which was brighter than the stars, and murmured softly, "It's really a pity to be a star."
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