"..."
In the warm sun, I greet the fragrance of whose daughter
I walked on that little bridge
You play the zither, expressing sorrow
Beside the bridge, the singing girl has tears in the corners of her eyes
"..."
The soft music flowed continuously in the private room, and the young man wearing glasses on the stage was deeply emotional. Although his voice lacked penetrating power, his deep involvement somehow brought a certain flavor to the song.
In a corner of the private room, because he was unfamiliar with the people around, Chu Mo did not specifically go up to make conversation.
Zhou Yuanyuan, who seemed to have stepped out of a painting, sat quietly beside him. Chu Mo noticed that the brightness in her eyes had once again turned into a faint indifference, as if the enchanting woman who had just smiled, bewitching the whole city, was not her at all.
