A song from Chengdu revived a closed-down pub.

The song was played in its entirety once.

After the last note fell, Su Fan felt the effect was pretty good.

Yang Yaohui's grasp of the song's emotions is also very accurate. The first half is like sitting in the old courtyard of his hometown and reminiscing about the past, while the longing in the second half gradually becomes stronger with restraint.

Su Fan nodded: "It's not a big problem, you can sing now. However, since you haven't rested well today, let's postpone the official performance to tomorrow."

No one seemed to have any objections to this.

The song has been almost perfectly rehearsed, so there's not much difference between a day earlier or later for them.

Yang Yaohui immediately became anxious: "President Su, can't we sing today?"

Su Fan glanced at him: "So eager?"

Little Fatty suppressed a laugh and said, "Brother Hui is hanging on by a thread right now. If you don't let him sing today, he won't be able to catch his breath, and he definitely won't be able to sleep tonight."

Jiang Yi nodded in deep agreement: "Judging from his condition, not only will he not be able to sleep tonight, but he'll also have to get us all up to practice all night."

Old Han sighed: "For everyone's sake, I also suggest singing today."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Su Fan confirmed, "Is your throat okay?"

Yang Yaohui cleared his throat and said, "No problem. I didn't feel uncomfortable after singing just now. Besides, I'm in perfect condition right now. If I wait until tomorrow, I'll probably overthink things."

Su Fan could understand his feelings.

When a singer encounters a piece of music they truly love, their emotions often build to a peak within a short period of time.

Singing at this time might lack some finesse in certain details, but it's also the easiest time to express genuine feelings.

Su Fan made a decision: "Okay, then we'll sing this evening."

Xia Ping then asked, "Where is the concert venue located?"

Su Fan thought for a moment and said, "There's no need to build a big stage. Let's just put it in Aunt Ayinur's yard."

After hearing this, everyone felt that the arrangement was very appropriate.

After all, the initial inspiration for "The Scent of Apples" came from that courtyard.

The cellar where the apples were stored, the old apple tree that had been growing for many years, and the box of apples that Ayinur left for her daughter far away are all part of this song.

If the song were moved to a large, brightly lit stage, it would lose its original flavor.

Xia Ping nodded: "Then I'll contact the cultural and tourism department first and ask them to ask Grandma Ayinur for her opinion."

After the call, a reply was quickly received.

Hearing that Su Fan was going to bring people to sing in his yard, Ayinur readily agreed, even though she didn't know what they were going to sing.

She even felt that making a special phone call to inquire about such a matter seemed a bit too formal.

Local cultural and tourism staff immediately sprang into action, preparing to transport sound equipment, lighting equipment, and live-streaming equipment to the village.

After learning about this, Su Fan specifically reminded him, "The equipment is enough. Don't decorate the yard too much like a stage. Try to keep it as it is."

Xia Ping understood what he meant: "To preserve the original atmosphere of daily life in the courtyard?"

Su Fan nodded: "This song is about the hometown in my memory. The old courtyard walls and the dim lighting are not a problem. If it is decorated too exquisitely, it will not feel like home."

Ultimately, the production team only reserved a performance area on one side of the courtyard, and set up a few necessary lighting and sound recording devices.

Several wooden chairs were placed under the old apple tree.

As evening fell, wisps of smoke rose slowly from above the village.

There was no huge stage, nor any deliberately arranged backdrop.

Meanwhile, in a city thousands of miles away, Ayinur's daughter also clicked into the live stream.

She had just gotten off work and had only clicked on the post because she saw someone sharing news about Xinjiang's cultural and tourism sector on WeChat Moments. She had heard that Su Fan was preparing to sing a second song related to Xinjiang, so she just clicked on it casually.

The live stream showed an ordinary farmhouse courtyard.

At first, she didn't think much of it.

But as she looked at it, she felt that the courtyard in the picture looked somewhat familiar.

The wooden door in the corner, its color already somewhat faded, the old lamp hanging under the eaves, and the old apple tree in the center of the yard, its branches leaning to one side, all resembled her home more and more in her memory.

She froze on the spot when the camera panned to the wooden crates stacked next to the cellar.

That was clearly her home.

The next moment, Ayinur's figure appeared at the edge of the screen.

The girl stared at her phone screen, her mouth slightly agape, and didn't react for a long time.

She never expected that the place where Su Fan and the others were preparing to sing their new song would be her own backyard.

To her even greater surprise, her mother was sitting under the old apple tree, with a smile on her face that she knew all too well.

The woman instinctively picked up her phone, intending to call her mother.

But before she could dial the number, she stopped.

She was worried that a sudden phone call would interrupt the ongoing live broadcast.

After hesitating for a moment, she put down her phone, projected the live stream onto the TV, and sat quietly in front of the sofa.

In the courtyard, everything was ready.

Su Fan took the microphone and walked to the old apple tree, saying, "Today, when we came here, Aunt Ayinur treated us to apples and also mentioned her daughter who lives far away. Every year, she leaves behind the best box of apples, waiting for her daughter to come home. In fact, the memories that one's hometown leaves behind are not necessarily any great events. It may just be a familiar street, a courtyard where one once lived, or a taste that one can never forget after many years. The next song is dedicated to Yili, and also to all those who are far away and miss their hometown. The song is called 'The Fragrance of Apples'."

Hearing this from a thousand miles away, the woman's eyes immediately welled up with tears.

She didn't realize until this moment that her mother would save a box of apples for her every year.

She hadn't been home to smell the apples in the yard for a long time.

At this moment, Yang Yaohui stepped forward and nodded to the group of people beside him who were responsible for providing accompaniment.

Everyone understood immediately.

The clear sound of a guitar rang out first.

Then, the unique timbre of the dombra was added.

The prelude is not complicated, but it carries a vast and distant feeling.

After the intro, Yang Yaohui's voice came through.

"Red-billed geese fly back to the reeds, swaying in the wind."

Is Shawuletai on the other side of the river here today?

That year, I arrived at your white felt tent by watering my horse.

I once saw you playing the dombra.

I've heard you sing.

……

Yang Yaohui's voice was calm and warm, like a wanderer who had been away from his hometown for many years, walking back on a familiar road, looking at the scenery along the way, and asking if the old friends in his memory were still there.

Red-billed geese, reeds, rivers, white felt tents, and dombras—these few images paint a picture of an old-time scene imbued with the atmosphere of the new province.