A song from Chengdu revived a closed-down pub.

As the last note faded, thunderous applause and cheers erupted.

Countless audience members stood up from their seats.

Someone clapped loudly.

Someone held their phone high in the air.

Some people even joined in, repeatedly chanting "The Song of Xi'an People" alongside those around them.

The audience from Shaanxi Province, in particular, were very excited.

To outsiders, this might just be a song with a catchy melody and distinct local dialect.

But for them, the city walls, paomo (a type of flatbread soaked in mutton soup), streets and alleys, and local accents in the lyrics are all things they are very familiar with in their lives.

This song does not portray Xi'an as a historical city that can only be looked up to.

Instead, it's about showing everyone that there are ancient city walls here, as well as trains that keep moving forward.

There are kings and generals buried underground, and there are ordinary people living in the present.

History is vast, but life remains vibrant.

Wei Zhirang stood to the side of the stage, watching the audience standing up and applauding, his chest rising and falling slightly.

He originally thought that Su Fan would write a magnificent promotional song for Xi'an.

But as it turns out, this simplest and most down-to-earth expression is actually more memorable.

Because Su Fan wasn't standing outside praising Xi'an.

He stood on this land, and as a native of Shaanxi Province, sang a song that truly belonged to the people of Xi'an.

Just when everyone thought the performance was over and the live broadcast was about to end, Su Fan did not leave the stage.

He stood in front of the microphone and waited for the applause to gradually subside before smiling and saying, "The song 'The Song of Xi'an People' just now is about Xi'an today, about the people living in this city, and about the most ordinary everyday life on the streets and alleys."

At this point, the audience hadn't realized anything was amiss.

Just then, Su Fan continued, "However, Xi'an also has another name that has been passed down for thousands of years: Chang'an. That name contains the spirit of the Han and Tang dynasties, the tribute from all nations, and the poems left by countless literati. When we walk through this city during the day, we see Xi'an, but when night falls, the lights shine over the city walls, and history and reality overlap, many people may still think of Chang'an."

Su Fan turned around and nodded slightly in the direction of the band: "So, the show isn't over yet. Since the first song was about Xi'an, let's change the name and take a look at the city's night."

He turned back to the audience, his voice booming through the microphone: "The second song, 'Chang'an Night,' is for everyone."

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of silence in the room.

The next moment, an even louder cheer suddenly erupted.

Wei Zhirang stood to the side of the stage, looking completely bewildered.

He always thought that Su Fan had only prepared "The Song of Xi'an People".

Who would have thought that after finishing one song, they would actually perform a second one?

The comments in the live stream exploded instantly.

"There's another one?!"

"The production team kept it so secret! There wasn't a single hint beforehand!"

"The first poem is about Xi'an, the second about Chang'an; putting these two names together evokes completely different feelings!"

"The Song of Xi'an People sings of the everyday life of ordinary people, so is 'Chang'an Night' going to start talking about the glorious Tang Dynasty?"

"Who said the live stream was ending? Come back right now, Su Fan's pulled out a new song!"

……

Amidst the anticipation of countless people, the prelude to "Chang'an Night" began.

Unlike the simple and lighthearted "Song of Xi'an People", this song has a strong sense of rhythm from the very beginning.

As the intro ended, Su Fan's voice rang out.

A crescent moon shines through the ages, casting snow across the city.

The wind did not stir, but my heart swayed.

The figures are in disarray here, and the wine flags are askew there.

I led Li Bai through the street.

……

For the first three lines, Su Fan maintained her original singing style.

But at the last sentence, it suddenly switched to authentic Shaanxi dialect.

The scene, which was originally full of antiquity, suddenly gained a rough and bold local flavor.

The feeling was like standing a thousand years away, gazing at the silhouette of the poet Li Bai.

The next moment, someone speaking with a strong Qin dialect walked into Chang'an City, grabbed Li Bai's arm, and wanted to take him shopping and drinking.

The distance between history and reality is instantly bridged by this dialect phrase.

Li Bai is no longer just a name in textbooks.

Rather, it's someone you can walk side-by-side down the street, someone you might turn into at any moment to have a hearty drink.

The audience from Shaanxi province, in particular, almost simultaneously lit up when they heard this dialect phrase.

Some people couldn't help but laugh out loud, while others followed the rhythm and shouted the phrase again in their dialect.

On the side of the stage, Wei Zhiran looked at Su Fan under the lights, his expression changing from surprise to shock.

Only at this moment did he truly understand why Su Fan had prepared two songs.

A poem about Xi'an.

A poem about Chang'an.

A song about the everyday life of ordinary people.

A song that transcends a thousand years of romantic imagination.

They are not simple repetitions.

Rather, they together form the two sides of this city.

The song continues.

"Ten miles of long pavilion street, where I parted from you."

The lights in the distance flickered.

Yellowed memories, fresh illusions

The story has been rewritten.

……

The melody suddenly subsided a bit at this point.

Just a moment ago, Su Fan was leading Li Bai through the bustling street.

The next moment, the scene shifted from meeting to parting.

The pavilion, the ancient street, and the flickering lights together paint a picture of a figure gradually receding into the distance.

It was as if someone stood outside Chang'an, watching their departing friend until their figure completely disappeared into the night.

Yellowed memories belong to the past.

A novel illusion unfolded before my eyes.

After many years, when people walk through familiar streets again, they always feel that everything seems to have never changed.

But when you actually stop, you realize that the familiar people are no longer there, and the story has already changed its ending.

The lyrics don't directly describe a specific parting, but they allow everyone to put their own memories into them.

Chang'an is no longer just a prosperous ancient capital.

It has witnessed encounters and also buried countless partings.

Those once vibrant people and stories have long since vanished into the past.

Only the city walls and lights remain, silently standing in the same place.

Just then, Su Fan suddenly bent down and picked up a megaphone from the side of the stage.

Many people were stunned by his actions.

That thing is all too familiar to everyone.

Street vendors attract customers, and shops play promotional messages on a loop, all using these very ordinary handheld loudspeakers.

No one expected that Su Fan would bring it to the stage.

No one understood what connection this thing could possibly have with the ancient-sounding poem "Chang'an Night" before them.

Even Wei Zhiran looked puzzled and subconsciously glanced in the direction of the production crew.

But the next moment, Su Fan had already raised the megaphone to his mouth.