"Please listen to my next song - 'The Hills'."
Jiang Xinhai paused, then added, "Actually, I don't plan to sing this song."
"When Zhichi gave me the lyrics and music, I took a look at it and didn't dare to sing it."
"Because I feel like I can't sing this song. I'm afraid only Zhichi can sing it with such feeling."
"However, I really like this song. I hope to sing it to its fullest extent. I hope everyone can give me more encouragement."
Li Mengyao blinked.
If she hadn't heard it with her own ears, she would have doubted whether the person speaking was Jiang Xinhai.
This is too modest!
You know, her singing skills are already world-class.
If there is a song in this world that even she can't sing, who else can sing it! ?
Could it be that Zhichi’s singing skills are better than hers?
The sound of a shimmering guitar rang out.
DoSoReLaSo…very light chords.
Completely different from the song "Summer Wind" just now, this song has a quiet and low beginning.
Jiang Xinhai lowered his head, sat on the chair, and looked at the strings seriously.
If she was telling a story with her singing just now, now she is telling a story with her guitar.
The summer wind whistled by, and when the wind died down, the mountain moon rose in the east, quietly illuminating the earth.
Li Mengyao seemed to see a lonely towering hill appear before her eyes.
The hill has a strange shape, like a stubborn, obstinate old man abandoned by the times.
After a long time, Jiang Xinhai finally spoke:
“There are still many things I want to say but haven’t said yet.
I saved it because I wanted to write it into a song.
Let people sing softly and remember lightly.
Even if I eventually forget it, it’s worth it.”
Li Mengyao stared at the screen of her mobile phone while reading the lyrics.
I feel a bit overwhelmed.
The style of this song is completely different from the previous one.
If the previous song was about expressing an emotion, then this song is like telling a real story.
Tell a story that is new to her.
"Perhaps the smallest thought in my life,
Luck becomes a river.
Then we each stood at one end and looked at the winding river.
Finally I dare to face it with a smile on my face.
Life is difficult."
The first few words seem to be the singer's inner voice.
Li Mengyao quickly realized that this was not what Jiang Xinhai was thinking.
This is the voice of the heart.
It feels like Zhichi is a very free-spirited middle-aged man. Otherwise, he couldn't write such lyrics.
She couldn't help but become curious: What story is so close?
"Perhaps we never matured,
Before I knew it, I was getting old.
Although the young man is still alive in my heart."
She saw Jiang Xinhai's self-deprecating smile on his face as he plucked the strings of his zither:
"Looking back frequently because of anxiety,
Ignorant in asking, ashamed to ask for help
Tirelessly climbing over
Every hill.”
…
Li Mengyao saw Jiang Xinhai's clear and transparent voice.
She saw a middle-aged man walking on the barren and desolate land, his face covered with dust and his temples like frost.
The man climbed up the hill which did not look steep at all, with great difficulty.
As the crescent moon rose into the sky, the man finally reached the top of the mountain.
However, looking forward, there is no one; looking back, there is no one——
"Over the hills,
Although his hair has turned white.
chatter,
The sorrow of not being able to do what time allows.
I have not yet seen immortality as I longed for,
Just lose yourself first..."
…
For a full 7 minutes, Li Mengyao was immersed in an unknown emotion.
She just listened quietly until the song ended before she came to her senses.
After listening to it, she became more certain that this song was the voice of Zhichi's heart.
He wanted to tell a story to the audience through his singing.
But he didn't mention a word about what he had experienced.
He was like a man who had been washed away by time and was as scarred as a reef. In the bar after dusk, he lit a cigarette, as if he wanted to talk about the past.
However, he said nothing in the end. He just said lightly in the smoke:
“After crossing the hill, I found no one was waiting.”
Li Mengyao felt vaguely touched.
But what exactly does this lyric mean?
She couldn't help but open the encyclopedia page on her phone and typed in the word "zhichi".
On the musician Zhichi’s page, there is no photo, no date of birth, and no identifying information.
There are only a lot of representative works and hundreds of awards he has won.
This person seems to have left no trace of his life in the world.
In other words, he was born just to write songs.
In Li Mengyao's imagination, Zhichi is a middle-aged man over 35 years old.
He was wearing a well-fitting suit and his hair was combed into the elegant style that is unique to middle-aged men.
I don’t know if he is handsome, but he should be a little handsome, otherwise Jiang Xinhai wouldn’t like him.
I heard that Zhichi grew up in a small mountain village and left his hometown when he was young.
What on earth had he been through to come to such an understanding?
What a mysterious man.
Li Mengyao clicked on the comment page:
"Xinhai, do you know how I've been spending the past five years? I've been waiting for your new song for five years!"
"It's back, I can feel it, the old village is back!"
"Jiang Xinhai is awesome! Zhichi is awesome!"
"Summer Wind is so beautiful! I'm hooked! Is there a pure version? I want to listen to it on repeat!"
My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!
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