Qi Shejiang was still listening intently to the performer sing, his left foot instinctively tapping on the ground to the rhythm. Zhang Yue said playfully, “I still sing the best.” Zhang Yue noticed Qi Shejiang looking at him with sparkly eyes, causing his blood to rush. Suddenly, he took off and ran ahead. Qi Shejiang was startled and tiptoed to look. He saw Zhang Yue put a hundred yuan bill into the guitar case and whispered something to the street performer. The performer stepped aside politely. Zhang Yue held the microphone and began to sing. At first, Qi Shejiang felt a little uneasy, but once Zhang Yue opened his mouth, he sighed, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and quietly enjoyed the performance. After just two lines, the crowd reacted with surprise. Even the guitarist was wide-eyed: This sounds so much like Zhang Yue! But Zhang Yue wouldn’t come here to sing, would he? It’s New Year’s Eve, and in the middle of the night, how could he? Nevertheless, this person sang so much like him, and the aura was distinctly different from that of a busker.
Holding the microphone in this special night, his singing evoked a strange emotional response from those traversing the midnight to the New Year. “Autumn Water” was originally a love song, with many couples recording videos while snuggling together, lost in appreciation. Zhang Yue, threading through the onlookers, made eye contact with Qi Shejiang on the periphery, singing with elegance. “Autumn water flows from spring to winter, the sea surface appears unchanged.” “You’ve counted the thirty-nine sycamores soaring on the green hills, gazing only at this night’s frost.” “Temporarily borrowing the flower, setting aside snow, presenting a dream that cannot be touched.” “The sound of geese in the western city cannot recall the forty-nine plum blossoms; only the strings write about our meeting.” “……” As the song concluded, the lingering notes hung in the air, and the audience sincerely applauded. Qi Shejiang stood outside the crowd, smiling as he clapped for the song sung for himself. Zhang Yue nodded at the street performer, then removed his hat and smiled at everyone, “Happy New Year.” Then he darted off like a rabbit, pulling Qi Shejiang along, disappearing in an instant. The remaining audience, still immersed in the moving music, were left bewildered: “…………”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
