Bai Yueguang and the Little Wild Wolf[Entertainment]

Jiang Qiao is best at writing love songs. In the lyrics, he wrote about secret love and open love, about past and present lives, and about thousand-year promises, but he, who is known as the little king of love songs, has never been in love.

Until he met Tang Mufan.

It was the lowest day of his 20-plus years of life.

Half a month ago, a marketing account scolded him for plagiarizing his new song. After some investigation, he found out that his manager had been selling his scrap manuscripts in private.

A week ago, his favorite band announced its disbandment, and the former rock and roll veteran opened a beef noodle restaurant. Since then, he has lived a fucking life of being complained by customers every day.

Two days ago, a friend called to say that the man he had been married to for ten years had cheated on him. Jiang Qiao booked the fastest international flight and arrived. I only received the urn and suicide note from my friend.

Today, Jiang Qiao sat by the river for a day and a night.

In a foreign country, strange people, strange language, no one knows him, and no one bothers him.

It was not until his limbs were cold and numb that Jiang Qiao moved his legs and stood up with difficulty.

It was written in the suicide note that the bar street on the other side of the river was the joint property of Lanzhu and the scumbag, and he was asked to scatter his ashes in the river.Ten years ago, he abandoned his family and career and came to this foreign country to accompany him to entertain guests and accompany him to build a tall building. Now he wants to sleep here and watch his building collapse.

Jiang Qiao walked to the river, stared at the sparkling river for a long time, not only attracted by something, but also stared at the opposite bar for a long time.

At this time, the whole bar street is already very lively.

The young lead singer is attracting customers by singing on the street. The lyrics are in Chinese that he is familiar with, but he can't even understand a word.

He should be well-known in this street, otherwise why so many people enthusiastically respond to the request for interaction with the lyrics that even compatriots cannot understand.

He stood on the small round stage and played the guitar, screaming passionately while showing off his piano skills, his teenage face was still green, and the arrogance between his brows was about to fly out.

Jiang Qiao finally understood the last sentence.

The spirit of the young man scolded Fang Qiu. '

A song that doesn't make sense, the only understandable word is borrowed.

Jiang Qiao still looked at him.

The young lead singer even crossed the sea of ​​people and the river, and gave him a wink.At that moment, Jiang Qiao saw the last ray of sunlight disappearing in his eyes, as if the sun did not disappear into the horizon, but hid in his pair of dark eyes. rise in.

Jiang Qiao stood numbly, waiting until the singing disappeared, until the noisy street became silent in the night, leaving only the light of two rows of street lamps in the dark world.

He started walking.

"Hold."

A deep voice came from the arch bridge not far away. Jiang Qiao looked over and saw a few thin boys running wildly.

"Fuck, don't jump!"

"Don't jump, brother! Don't be overthinking it!"

Jiang Qiao frowned and analyzed, and after three seconds he came to the conclusion that the words were actually yelled at him.

He originally wanted to say that he didn't have that idea. If he jumped, someone would watch the scumbag collapse, but he didn't get a drop of water for a long time, and he couldn't make a sound for a while.

After another few seconds, he heard a splash.

The teenagers running wildly on the bridge also stopped, and jumped on the side of the bridge to look down.

"Boss! What are you doing!"

"He hasn't jumped yet, why did you go down first!"

A beam of motorcycle taillights came over, and Jiang Qiao saw the people in the water flopping towards him, and the hands slapping the water seemed to open their arms towards him.

"You jump! Jump if you have the guts! I can catch it!"

It's the lead singer with hot lyrics but brilliant guitar playing.

Later, Jiang Qiao was knocked down on the grass by several teenagers who arrived afterward.

The lead singer crawled out of the river, walked towards his face with long straight legs, twisting his wet white T while walking.

The cold river water poured down Jiang Qiao's face, mixed with the smell of beer, barbecue and low-quality perfume, Jiang Qiao seemed to have received the loudest slap in his life for more than [-] years.

"What's wrong with a big old man."

"Boss..."

The lead singer flicked the drenched T-shirt over his shoulder, and the splash of water successfully shut up his friends on the left and right. He looked down at the person at his feet: "Hey, are you compatriots? Did I catch the wrong person?"

Seeing their ferocious looks, Jiang Qiao felt that if he kept silent, he might be picked up and thrown into the river, so he shouted hoarsely, "Let go."

It's Chinese with a correct accent, that's right, Tang Mufan gave him a look, and asked the brothers on the left and right to help Jiang Qiao up from the ground.

Jiang Qiao wanted to break away from the people on his left and right, and stand firm with his own strength, but the other person's arm broke free, but he didn't have the strength to stand firm, his body leaned back uncontrollably, and the back of his head hit an unknown hard object , He instantly lost consciousness in pain.

His last thought was—

Maybe the year of birth should really get a pair of red underwear to wear.

When Jiang Qiao woke up, the boy was sitting on the balcony plucking the strings.

The brisk melody is the familiar "Childhood".

The boy's normal singing voice is much more beautiful than Jiang Qiao imagined, clear, warm, and naturally more affectionate than ordinary people's voice, but fell into the abyss of rock and roll.

He sat up with difficulty, the boy heard the movement, put down the guitar and looked over.

"Tang Mufan."

He brought over a wooden stool and sat down opposite Jiangqiao.

"Hey handsome, you spent all my savings."

Jiang Qiao looked around, this rental house was pitifully small, only able to fit a single bed and a wardrobe, it was as simple and rough as if the hallway had been remodeled.

If such a 'family with nothing but four walls' takes him to the hospital once, I am afraid that he will really have to empty out his entire family.

Jiang Qiao habitually touched the money bag on his trouser waist, but found nothing. He looked up at the boy, and the boy picked up a cloth bag that was so dirty that he couldn't see the color, and handed it over: "It's all your things. "

"..." Jiang Qiao moved his fingers, but still didn't reach out to take it, and squeezed his dry lips with difficulty: "You take it yourself."

"Then I'll take it."

The boy found his wallet from the bag, opened it and took out a stack of banknotes, counted them and put them back.

"By the way, what is that?"

Looking at his fingertips, Jiang Qiao pursed his thin lips slightly: "The urn."

The boy stopped counting the money and stuffed all the paper money he had withdrawn back.

"never mind."

Jiang Qiao got out of bed with difficulty: "Don't forget it, I'm not short of money."

"But you seem to lack a little warmth."

The boy was sitting opposite him, with the back of his head against the mottled wall, and a low-quality cigarette between his fingers. His handsome features were expressionless, and his tone was indifferent. He didn't look like a gentle and virtuous breed, but he could tell In this case.

Jiang Qiao remembered a very stupid sentence said by his first teacher, Lan Zhu, the one lying in the urn at this time - children who love music are not too bad.

Jiang Qiao licked his dry lips, and there was a slight curvature around his lips: "Why don't you give me some clean air first."

"Sorry."

Tang Mufan snuffed out the cigarette on his fingertips, and handed him an unopened bottle of water.

Jiang Qiao took it and took a big gulp, barely surviving.

He tilted his head back, rubbed against the wall pasted with newspapers, and waited for a while before speaking: "I didn't intend to commit suicide."

Tang Mufan was obviously frightened, his facial features froze for a moment, emotions such as embarrassment, entanglement and regret flashed by, and finally there was only one sentence "fuck" - a negative teaching material for art students who don't take Chinese classes well.

Jiang Qiao watched him turn half a circle in the narrow space, groping the back of his head with his hands, wanting to see him but not daring to look at him, funny and cute.

Feeling that the picture was about to crack from embarrassment, Jiang Qiao gave him a smile.

"But I do lack a little warmth."

Only then did Tang Mufan calm down, and sat looking at him, his fair cheeks turned red, and he slapped his thigh: "I think you look a little bit wrong."

"Talk? It would be better to speak up."

His tone was not too enthusiastic, but his eyes were sincere.

Jiang Qiao thought for a while, and told all the unlucky stories from the beginning. The young man was obviously not a qualified listener, and he responded with three kinds of responses from the beginning to the end.

When he finished telling the bloody story behind the urn, his anger reached its peak.

"Come."

"follow me."

Jiang Qiao was pulled from the bed by his wrist, and walked through the smelly stairs.

Tang Mufan stepped onto a black second-hand motorcycle.

"Come up."

Jiang Qiao stepped up with his long legs, and before he could sit still, the motorcycle shot out with a whoosh.

Before flying too far, a sleepy greeting came from upstairs.

"Boss, where are you going?"

"Kill people!"

"Fuck, wait for us!"

Tang Mufan parked the car on the side of the road and waited for someone, picked up the helmet hanging on the handlebar of the car and handed it back.

"The patient's door is open, and the warmth is delivered."

He tilted his head and squeezed out a wink that was a hundred times more perfunctory than in the performance.

"..."

Jiang Qiao took it, carefully bypassed the wound on the back of his head, and put it on with difficulty.

The loud heavy metal music sounded, and it was the brothers of the copycats who followed. Tang Mufan’s car was running fast, and Jiang Qiao seized the opportunity to look back. The drummer, keyboard, and Bessie were alive. Why are you so proficient with the baseball bat on your head?

This is rock boy?

The brothers rushed forward without asking the reason, and only after Tang Mufan parked the car in the bar street where they were performing did someone ask.

"Brother, where should we chop?"

Jiang Qiao turned around and saw that the speaker had a dreadlock and was the drummer of the band.

Before he could look back, he heard a 'bang'.

The glass in the bar where they played last night was broken.

"Here it is!"

"rush!"

The two walked forward screaming, and the noise was so loud that the drummer with dreadlocks said, "We'll lose half a month's performance fee" and was quickly overwhelmed.

Jiang Qiao, who was supposed to be the protagonist, was left behind by this young, broken band.

"Human scum! Beast!"

"Boss, who are you scolding?"

Well, I don't know who I'm scolding, anyway, everyone scolded happily together in the end.

Standing on the side of the road, Jiang Qiao watched the theme bar designed by his friends and turned into a pile of rubbish. Hearing their crackling and asterisk curses, he didn't think it was vulgar at all, as if he heard it in the early summer season. A grand symphony.

The dark clouds in his heart drifted away little by little, and the bustling city and the troubled world began to shrink. In the end, only the thin figure of the young man and his youthful side face remained in his eyes.