Uncertain age difference

82

On the day of recording the show, under Ning Huang's repeated persuasion, Lu Chen said that he could not go, but he prepared a complete love bento.

I used a square egg-yellow strip lunch box. It doesn't look big, but it is firmly packed with three layers.

The rice is slender, milky white, soft and glutinous, and a whole box of sweet and sour pork ribs is served with crispy and raw stir-fried vegetables.

The egg custard is steamed smooth and beautiful, with shrimps and shiitake mushrooms, diced ham sausage, and a layer of watery soy sauce.

Even the small biscuits after the meal were packed in paper bags printed with little hedgehogs.

The question is about the surrounding area of ​​the company.

Originally with a cold face, Ning Huang, who was cool and flirtatious, stared at the lunch box and biscuits, feeling a little embarrassed for some reason.

Lu Chen was still wearing an apron and rolled up his sleeves, and filled him with scented tea.

Little Spur realized that he couldn't help, so he stood there in embarrassment.

Lu Chen said: "Ning Huang, the sleeves are loose, help me roll down the sleeves."

Little Thorn nodded with an "oh", lowered his head obediently, and rolled up the sleeves of Lu Chen's pajamas.

The corners of Lu Chen's mouth twitched, he poured scented tea, and rubbed the little prickly head's hair.

Sure enough, he touched the hard spikes glued together with a hand of hair glue.

When the little prickly head was touched before, it would always give a fierce expression of whoever allowed you to do it.

This time, he didn't know what he was thinking, so he lowered his head obediently and let him touch him casually.

The slender fingers made an inch of it, along the base of the ear, rubbed down, and scratched his chin teasingly.

Ning Huang really protested: "Where are you petting the dog?"

Lu Chen said: "Let the assistant heat up the lunch and come back early in the evening."

Ning Huang said "oh" again.

But as if roots had taken root under his feet, he didn't leave.

Lu Chen raised his eyebrows: "What's wrong?"

Ning Huang's lips twitched, his eyes followed suit, and he said, "That's right, you should take a good rest."

Lu Chen laughed, lowered his head and lightly pecked his ear, and his voice became gentle: "Okay, be careful on the road."

Ning Huang's whole body burned red quickly, and he gave him a fierce look: "That's not what I meant!"

"Well, what else?"

Lu Chen put the rest of the rice into his own bowl, only his eyes lightly passed over him.

"I……"

Ning Huang opened his mouth, only to realize that he couldn't tell what he was doing standing there stupidly, being touched on the head and face, and motionless.

Anyway, I don't want him to kiss.

The little prickly head was so aggressive that he kicked open the door and went out.

Lu Chen slowly put down the shovel in his hand.

Ok.

The little uncle is not in the right mind.

I might do something bad today.

83.

Ning Huang sang on stage for the first time, just behind Cheng Xinran who was in his thirties.

Holding the guitar and wearing a mask, he stood coldly by the stage, the light was dim, and his strings also flowed with cold light.

Cheng Xinran's expression was like seeing a ghost: no one told him beforehand that the masked mentor would come on stage.

This mentor showed part of the process, and he clearly confirmed that because the masked mentor hid his identity, he would use a song for Xia Ziyu to sing on his behalf.

But he wore a mask and walked over step by step.

Cheng Xinran's face turned ugly.

The moment he passed by, he lowered his voice and asked him, "Did you not lose your memory, or did you remember it?"

"Ning Huang, it's been so long, what do you want to do?"

Through the mask.

The pair of eyes turned and gave him a cold look.

He heard the prelude sounded on the stage, it was the song he sang just now.

Exquisite and eight-faced.

84.

More than ten years have passed since the draft when it all started.

At that time, the talent show was still very simple, without so many fancy gimmicks and rules, just singing a song, performing talents, telling your own story, no matter how eye-catching the operation was, it was just on stage Sensational, shed a few tears down.

It was the same with Cheng Xinran. He was young and handsome at that time, and he dressed up brightly. He stood on the stage and sang his own song, but his reaction was mediocre.

It's an expected disappointment, and it's not the first time he's been turned away by going around the draft.

He said, "Before I leave, I want to sing another song."

So I played the electronic organ and sang a little.

At that time, he had already prepared the lyrics. He wanted to say, this is a song written by my friend. We dreamed of forming a band together. Today he can’t come to the scene, so I hope he can hear it on TV.

Unexpectedly, after the song was sung, the respected teacher stood up and asked him, "What's the name of this song?"

He said: "Exquisite and eight-faced."

The judge teacher asked: "Did you write it?"

He paused with his hands on the keys, and opened his mouth.

But I heard the teacher say: "Your singing skills are good, but your voice is a bit weak, but this song is well written, with your own style, and you are also very talented."

"I want to keep him," said the teacher.

His two lips that had been separated were suddenly glued together again.

He heard the teacher ask him again: "Did you write this song?"

He looked around the huge and empty stage. The seemingly lively concert at the graduation was not one ten-thousandth of this stage.

Spotlights, gazes, audiences, guests, everything made him sweaty and dizzy.

He heard himself say yes.

85.

In that draft, Cheng Xinran sang a total of four songs.

It's not that he didn't think about releasing his own song. In the second round, he chose a love song of his own, but the response was mediocre.

The judge teacher advised him privately: "You must stick to your own style and believe in yourself."

He couldn't believe himself, he could only believe in Ning Huang.

He had already had it once, so he was not afraid of the second time. He sang three songs written by Ning Huang, and he was sure that Ning Huang hadn't sung them to anyone else.

Sure enough, passing five stages and killing six generals was incredibly smooth.

The judge teacher, who is at the top of the industry, also became his teacher. He took care of him all the way, and he became a young genius with infinite glory.

The ensuing fame and fortune were too fast. He was overjoyed, but he was devastated. He tried every means to write a song like Ning Huang's. Find other musicians to make albums for him.

He guessed that Ning Huang saw him on the show, and he turned him away several times when he came to see him.

One day it rained heavily, Ning Huang called him, and he finally answered.

Ning Huang asked: "Why?"

The rain outside the window was terrible, and he was afraid that Ning Huang would tell him what to say, and pretended to be stupid, saying that he didn't understand what he said.

"Ning Huang, I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Yes, I was lucky and was selected, but what does it have to do with you."

"Ning Huang, are you crazy to want to be famous?"

Ning Huang has always spoken harshly and doesn't know how to take care of others.But he has always listened with pleasure, and even told him with a smile that talented people have their own personalities.

But there was no day that made him feel more piercing and terrifying than the words of that day.

In Ning Huang's voice, there was an unbelievable coldness: "Cheng Xinran, just for three songs."

When he put down the phone, he threw everything he could on the ground.

Until his thirties, he kept looking for musicians to maintain a style that did not belong to him, kept producing new albums, maintained popularity through various means, and created the personality of a powerful singer-songwriter.

But when it comes to Cheng Xinran, he can never avoid the three songs in his debut.

He was convinced that this was such an extravagant and hateful sentence.

86.

The passing moment.

Ning Huang said.

"Don't you want this song?"

Cheng Xinran's face was pale.

The footsteps that were about to leave the stage also stopped.

87.

Lu Chen sat under the stage.

The little hedgehog in the mask is sitting on the stage.

Exactly the same word.

Exactly the same song.

The audience didn't seem to expect that the song he chose turned out to be the famous song of another tutor guest.

The music sounded. Unlike Cheng Xinran's skillful and affectionate singing, Ning Huang's voice was clear and straightforward, with a tone between a teenager and a young man. From the first sentence, he became an ignorant and worldly teenager.

There is only the guitar, and as the song is sung line by line, musical instruments are also added in, and the composition elements are gradually enriched. Not only musical instruments, but even alarm bells, car sounds, and human voices are all incorporated into this song in this way.

It seems that the guitar boy from the small road came to the bustling market like this.

The masked person smiled, and the entire stage went dark.

Everyone below has heard this song, but just unconsciously held their breath.

Here should be Cheng Xinran's hearty high-pitched voice.

But only the young man mockingly said: "Linglong has all kinds of faces, and I have both sides."

Then there was another sentence like a sigh: "Linglong has all kinds of faces, I have no one to speak of."

Each sentence is sung in a completely different way, but they are kneaded together in a weird way.

Stay low and be small, laughing and cursing.Sometimes happy and enmity, sometimes lonely.

There are eight sides to life.Singing weird and natural.

It's something only he can write.

There was a final pause.

The eyes behind the mask seemed to see him, and panicked for a moment.

Lu Chen let out a muffled laugh.

The little prickly head knew that he ran out to make trouble and was discovered.

He made a cold face on purpose.

It was clear that the music had stopped and the song was over.

But suddenly he heard the people on the stage clear their throats, and he plucked another part of the guitar, stared at him, hurriedly made up a word, and sang carefully.

"Exquisite and eight-faced, it's me and you, talking sweetly."

The lights on the stage were already dimmed.

In the dim light, only the masked person was left, holding the guitar quietly, sitting there, but secretly looked away.

Lu Chen thought,

Get cunning.

——I also learned to make up a sentence.