A song from Chengdu revived a closed-down pub.

Aihmaiti continued his story, and no one interrupted him.

After the boy left, he initially wrote letters to the girl frequently.

The girl would also write down what was happening in her hometown in letters and send them to him.

But not long after, the construction team the boy worked for changed locations several times, and letters sent back to his hometown began to arrive intermittently.

Unfortunately, that same year, the girl's father fell seriously ill.

To pay for medical treatment, the family sold their house and moved to another city to stay with relatives.

The letters the boy wrote back were never received.

The letter the girl sent also disappeared without a trace because the address was changed.

Both of them thought that the other was no longer willing to wait.

However, none of them truly let go.

The boy followed the construction team to many places, and it wasn't until several years later that he finally got the chance to return to his hometown.

By the time he returned, the girl and her family had already left.

Nobody knows where they went.

Finding someone you've lost contact with back then was far more difficult than it is now.

The boy could only ask around using the old address.

Later, he finally found the relatives the girl had sought refuge with, only to learn that she had died of a sudden illness a few months earlier.

Before she died, she kept the letters that she had never sent.

At this point, Aihemaiti stopped.

His voice remained calm, and his face showed little sadness.

But the live stream suddenly fell silent.

No one urged them on, and no one interrupted.

Aihemaiti raised his head and looked at the two poplar trees leaning against each other, and said, "In the last letter that the girl never sent, she said that if the boy came back to find her, she should let him go to the poplar forest. She said that people's lives are too short, and many things promised are not fulfilled before people are gone. But poplars live a long time. If they do not wait for each other in this life, let these two trees continue to wait for them."

At this point, Aihemaiti stopped.

His face betrayed little emotion, as if he were recounting an old story he had heard from someone else.

But his gaze never left those two poplar trees.

He Xiaoxiao was silent for a moment, then asked softly, "Did that boy come back later?"

Aihmaiti did not answer.

He bent down, straightened a stone next to the tree roots, and then reached out to brush away the dust.

After a long silence, he said in a low voice, "Who knows? Maybe they've come back, maybe they're still on their way back."

He Xiaoxiao wanted to ask more questions, but Su Fan stopped her with a look.

For some stories, this is enough.

If you continue to ask questions, it's not listening, but reopening someone's wounds.

A gust of wind swept through the woods.

The withered branches collided with each other, making a low, soft sound.

Next, the group strolled around the poplar forest for a while longer.

However, after listening to Aihemaiti's story, the previously relaxed atmosphere clearly changed.

On the way back, the car was no longer as lively as usual.

Even He Xiaoxiao, who is usually the most talkative, just quietly leaned against the window, watching the wasteland recede into the distance.

Su Fan remained silent as well.

In his mind, the two intertwined poplar trees and Aihemaiti's eyes, which were always looking into the distance, remained constantly in his thoughts.

Back at the hotel, Su Fan sat alone in his room, lost in thought for a long time.

"Let's bring out that song!"

After making the decision, Su Fan turned on his computer and typed a few words at the top of the document.

Populus euphratica in Kashgar.

This song was written, composed, and sung by Dao Lang on Earth.

Whether it's the unwavering devotion expressed in the song.

It is still a regret hidden beneath the desolation.

All of these perfectly matched the stories I heard during the day.

Su Fan organized the lyrics and music, completed the arrangement, and then sent the file to Jiang Yi.

At this moment, Jiang Yi was drinking with Xiao Pang, Lao Han, and a few others in the room.

The group had been traveling around with the production crew for some time, and since they had no other plans for the evening, they ordered some dishes to relax.

After a few rounds of drinks, the group was chatting animatedly when Jiang Yi's phone, which was on the table, suddenly rang.

He picked it up casually and glanced at it.

The message was sent by Su Fan.

Below is another document titled "Kashgar Poplars".

Before Jiang Yi could even open it, he saw the message Su Fan sent immediately afterward.

"You sing!"

Those three simple words made Jiang Yi's hand, which was holding the wine glass, freeze in mid-air.

The slight intoxication from earlier was instantly sobered up considerably.

Little Fatty didn't notice his expression and leaned forward with his wine glass, saying, "Brother Jiang, come on, let's have a drink."

Jiang Yi shoved his cup away, saying, "Don't drink it yet."

Little Fatty was taken aback: "What's wrong? Weren't you just yelling that whoever collapses first tonight is a coward?"

Jiang Yi ignored him and directly opened the file sent by Su Fan.

The first thing that catches the eye is those few eye-catching characters.

Populus euphratica in Kashgar.

Old Han chimed in, "President Su, you've written another song?"

Jiang Yi nodded, but his expression gradually became serious: "Moreover, I'll sing this song."

Upon hearing this, the people at the table immediately lost their appetite for drinking.

Little Fatty quickly put down his wine glass and moved his chair closer to Jiang Yi: "Quickly open it and take a look."

A few people gathered together and read through the lyrics and music bit by bit.

They had all heard the stories told by Aihemaiti during the day.

Therefore, they understand better than anyone else where the waiting, persistence, and regret in this song truly come from.

After reading the last page, Jiang Yi remained silent for a long time.

He finally understood why Su Fan had entrusted this song to him.

This song doesn't require a clean, fancy voice.

It needs wind and sand, it needs time, and it needs a kind of strength that remains unyielding even after being repeatedly worn down by life.

Jiang Yi's slightly hoarse voice is just right to express this feeling.

Little Fatty couldn't help but exclaim, "President Su has only been back for a short time, and she's already finished the song?"

Old Han shook his head: "Isn't your focus a little off?"

Jiang Yi ignored them and instead read through the lyrics and music again from the beginning.

His expression was a mixture of excitement and pressure.

The fact that Su Fan was willing to entrust him with such a work is itself a form of trust.

But the more this was the case, the less he dared to be perfunctory in the slightest.

Jiang Yi said, "I won't drink tonight."

Little Fatty was dumbfounded by his actions: "Who said we couldn't leave until we finished our drink?"

Jiang Yi placed his phone in front of him, his expression serious: "The music has already been delivered to your hands, and you still have the mind to drink?"

Little Fatty glanced down at the documents, then pushed his wine glass aside: "I'm not drinking anymore, I'm going to find my musical instruments."

Old Han stood up and casually stuffed some peanuts from the table into his mouth: "President Su really knows how to pick her timing, throwing a song over so late at night. Looks like nobody's going to get any sleep tonight."

The group exchanged glances, their desire to continue drinking completely gone.

A moment later, they took the sheet music and moved directly to the rehearsal room that the hotel had temporarily prepared.