The song is over and the sound of the tide rises again.
The audience applauded them. In this era when rap and electronic music are popular, it is really eye-catching to see such a group of rock teenagers.
"Su Huai Feixing! Su Huai Feixing!"
In the darkness, the neon lights of the city in the distance shine on the dark horizon. The bright long pillars and tall buildings rise like colorful gem crystals on the earth, like short cones piercing the sky. In front of us is a huge square.
, countless people
Waving green fluorescent sticks, like fireflies all over the pond on a summer night, Lu Zhengkang looked down on the stage. The strong light from the projection screen and spotlights behind him illuminated the faces nearby. One by one, young men and women raised their hands,
Everyone is laughing.
Is this happiness?
He liked this feeling a little, but he was also a little scared.
Do the rest of the band feel the same way?
I like this kind of beautiful moment, but I also feel scared to face the craze of the sea of people.
Lu Zhengkang touched his throat. His voice had broken just now. Although this was a special part of "Chasing Dreams", the result was a very sore throat.
He looked back at his teammates. They were gesturing with their thumbs. Everyone was in good condition.
Although Lou Xundiao always said that he was incompetent, he actually didn't let up at the critical moment. He was really a good brother.
There are so many surprises in life, and it seems like it is at the last moment, but you can always survive, and this time is no exception. Lu Xuefeng walked out from the backstage and hugged his great-grandson.
"Good boy."
People in the audience shouted in surprise, "Who is that old man?" "The host?" "Sing, don't be stunned!"
Lu Zhengkang hugged his grandfather tightly and said, "Master, this song is for you. I will give you the guitar."
"It won't work. I can't sing." Lu Xuefeng said this, but his eyes were fixed on the crowd in the square, thinking to himself: This is great.
Lu Zhengkang took off his guitar and hung it around his great-grandfather's neck, "Master, you can kill Shijiazhuang and Xihu."
"Then let's go to West Lake. Do you want to sing?"
"My voice is hoarse."
"Okay, I'll sing." Lu Xuefeng's eyes flickered, "Kill that one from Shijiazhuang."
Lu Zhengkang took out the harmonica, pressed the teleprompter to his ear, and asked for a new microphone.
The boy explained to the confused people, "Hello everyone, the current lead singer is my great-grandfather, who was also a rock musician back then. Because my throat is very sore, I can't continue singing, so I will let my great-grandfather do it.
As the lead singer."
The crowd became quiet again.
The other bands backstage were all shaking their heads, and some people had sharp eyes, "That man seems to be Long Live, that old man, that pattern on the back of the clothes he's wearing."
"Which one is long live?"
"Viva, Viva Roma, the one from 1948. Halfway through the performance, the mechanical patrol came over, rattling, rattling, and even the lead singer and bass were cuffed and taken away, killing them all."
"Hey, is this a fugitive?"
"It doesn't count. We don't know the details. We can just send a message to the higher-ups to ask."
The instructor and the host were whispering behind the curtain, and a camera was pointed at them, so the host explained the current situation to the citizens watching the live broadcast.
"This is the second time that the Su Huai Feixing Band has invited foreign aid. The last time it was a cool girl," the host said, raising his phone and projecting a scene of Bo Feng wearing a mask and playing the drums.
Her long hair was flying like a wild willow in the wind, "This time, it's an old man. It is said that he is the lead singer's great-grandfather. He looks really young. I wonder what surprises he will bring us? Let's wait and see."
After the commotion subsided, Lu Zhengkang finally started to play the low-pitched harmonica. He originally learned this skill using comprehension points just to replace the saxophone, but unexpectedly, the harmonica skill gave him a very interesting specialty.
[Wind Traveler (Epic)]: There are many stories in your harmonica. Boys will envy you and girls will love you when you play the harmonica. You are a prodigal from the end of the world, returning home thousands of miles away.
Effects: The emotional appeal is greatly increased, the personality charm is greatly increased when using the harmonica, the probability of human empathy experience is increased, the lung capacity is greatly increased, the cleanliness of saliva is slightly improved, the beard growth rate is slightly increased, and the possibility of oily hair is increased.
If Lu Zhengkang learns one skill a day, he will have more and more achievements related to his hair. It is foreseeable that he will be a Viking savage with hair growing on his face in the future.
The harmonica tune was transmitted through the microphone, with some blurring and distortion, but every audience member was deeply confused because of this. They now felt that the boy on the stage was glowing, not the kind of brilliant white light, nor the colorful brilliance.
, is that old dull orange peel-like orange light.
There are substantial notes floating around the boy they see, which may be different for individuals. The more emotional they are, the more they will be moved, but everyone is addicted to their own illusions, one caused by Lu Zhengkang
Fantasy, stories in old photos, looming scenes of the last century, that panic era, a society of mixed joys and sorrows.
This was just an illusion, but there was no sound at all. People forgot to wave, and the fluorescent sticks in their hands stopped. Those watching the live broadcast felt a throbbing current rising from their spines and trembled all over when they heard the sound.
"What show is this?"
"A music festival, just over there at Luoshan."
“The level is really high and I really want to go.”
"..."
"It sounds great. Who is playing the harmonica? Hey, it's a live broadcast. How can you play the sound outside?"
"Then I'll wear headphones."
"No, let's play it outside, it sounds good."
Kashiwa Chengyu was sitting in the employee lounge, drinking tea with an expressionless face. His colleagues were chatting on their mobile phones, and scenes from the music festival were broadcast on a small projection screen on the wall.
When the tune of the harmonica sounded, Bai Chengyu felt a kind of nostalgia rising from the heart. It was music. She smiled slightly, put down the tea cup, and planned to watch the show to relax her tired body and mind.
In the live broadcast, the old man was holding a white electric guitar and plucking the strings awkwardly. But soon, he became proficient, the sound of the harmonica subsided, and Lu Xuefeng sang softly: "I get off work at six in the evening and change my clothes for the pharmaceutical factory."
, my wife was making porridge and I went to drink a few bottles of beer. I lived like this for thirty years until the building collapsed. The darkness deep in the clouds, the landscape that submerged the bottom of my heart..."
The synthesizer played a sad cello sound, and at the end, the old man's voice sounded again. It was as thick as iron lumps, like hail mixed with rain, falling down one by one. Everyone closed their eyes, and some people were almost in tears.
.
"At the Octagon Counter, Crazy People's Mall
"Use a fake bill to buy a fake gun
"Protect her life until the building collapses
"Night covered the North China Plain, and sadness soaked her face..."
Mu Huai pressed the button of the synthesizer, and the trumpet sounded. The high-flying tune was like an arrow rushing into the clouds. Once again, the cymbal crashed and fell.
