Now that Zhang Yue announced he would sing again, who knew how excited everyone was. Sure enough, the revised lyrics must have been for Qi Shejiang; otherwise, why would he always sing it when Qi Shejiang was around? “Then I’ll provide you with accompaniment.” Qi Shejiang instructed someone to bring up his sanxian and tested the sound. Hugging the sanxian and glancing at Zhang Yue, Qi Shejiang smiled and said, “Zhang Yue sings really well. I fell for him when I was listening to him sing.” The CP fans in the audience erupted with joyful howls, our CP is so good at marketing! Only Zhang Yue felt his ears warm and his heart racing. Most people didn’t know that Qi Shejiang had just openly and discreetly confessed in front of everyone, saying a genuine love line. The two exchanged glances in silence for three seconds amidst the laughter. Truth and illusion mingled in the lively atmosphere, leaving others unable to distinguish banter from reality, just like Qi Shejiang couldn’t tell whether he was truly before a dream of eighty years or if he had mistakenly entered this life through a dream. The world is vast, with few true friends; may this encounter not betray the time.
Qi Shejiang gently plucked the strings, and Zhang Yue responded with his singing, the melody soaring throughout the venue: The autumn waters flow from spring to winter, the ocean’s surface remains seemingly unchanged. You’ve counted thirty-nine leaves of the green mountains that fly, only to gaze at this night and the frosty wind. Temporarily borrowing the flowers and wind, stopping the snow and moon, presenting a dream that cannot be found in the dream of the concealed deer. The sounds of the geese in the western city can’t return thirty-nine times of the plum blossoms’ red, but they write encounters on the strings. …
