A song called "The You of the Past" has prompted the entire internet to beg me not to leav

On the third night of filming in Mushroom Village.

The production team put together a bonfire party at the threshing ground at the village entrance.

Not only were all the guests present, but also the elderly left behind in the village and teenagers were invited to join in the fun.

As night fell, the starry sky shone like a handful of spilled diamonds, and summer insects chirped intermittently in the grass.

Teacher He and Chef Huang are both shrewd and adept at controlling the atmosphere and creating a lively ambiance.

Tom was enthusiastically jumping around with the village children, trying to learn the Tujia ethnic group's hand-waving dance; Anthony, on the other hand, was squatting by the fire, clumsily roasting a blackened ear of corn using the techniques he had just learned.

Lin Yan didn't join in the fun. Instead, he chose an old bench at the outermost edge of the campfire and sat down, slowly peeling roasted pine nuts.

Shen Qingqiu leaned against his shoulder, closed her eyes slightly, and greedily enjoyed the rare tranquility in the deep mountains.

This is the life Lin Yan wanted.

There were no close-up shots from those long lenses, no backstabbing or scheming in the industry, just the evening breeze, a campfire, and a wife leaning on my shoulder.

Just when the atmosphere was at its hottest.

"Snapped!"

Without warning, the entire village, along with the production crew's large fill lights that were comparable to searchlights, went out instantly.

The vast threshing ground was swallowed up by absolute darkness in an instant.

"What's going on?!" Director Wang shouted anxiously into the walkie-talkie.

"Director Wang, the substation down the mountain has exploded, and the entire area is without power! The backup generator has a minor problem and is being repaired, but it will take at least twenty minutes!" the staff member reported, his voice trembling with tears.

The sudden appearance of pure black caused an uproar at the scene.

The timid children had already started crying loudly.

The two foreigners, used to the neon lights of the city, had never seen anything like this before. Tom instinctively clung tightly to the wooden pillar beside him.

Anthony was so frightened that he dropped the half-eaten corn in his hand, muttering "Oh my god" repeatedly, clearly showing his cowardice in the deep mountains and forests.

"Nonsense! How can we film without lights? The live stream uses satellite signal and it's still running, the picture is completely black, go fix it right now!" Director Wang was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

Just at this critical juncture when everyone was in disarray.

"Zheng".

A crisp, ethereal guitar pluck echoed through the darkness.

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to possess some strange magic, instantly silencing the restlessness in the room.

By the dim red glow of the remaining campfire, everyone subconsciously turned their heads and looked at Lin Yan on the bench at the edge.

He had somehow picked up a wooden guitar and was looking down, his fingers dancing lightly across the strings.

There's no fancy or technically dazzling intro, just a very rhythmic and light melody that feels like running through golden wheat fields.

Accompanied by the crisp sound of a guitar, there were even a few playful whistles imitating the chirping of cicadas.

Lin Yan slowly raised his eyes, and through the dim light, swept them over the still-shaken children and the tense foreigners, a slight smile playing on his lips.

That hoarse voice, tinged with a touch of languor and warmth, drifted away on the wind in the powerless mountains of western Hunan.

If you have too many complaints about the world...

"Once you fall, you're afraid to keep going."

Why do people have to be so fragile and depraved?

The moment the lyrics were sung, the tens of millions of irritable netizens in the live stream who were frantically spamming "Why is the screen black?" seemed to have been paused, and the barrage of comments instantly dropped to zero.

Please turn on the TV and take a look.

"So many people are bravely striving to keep going for life."

Shouldn't we be content?

Cherish everything, even if you don't possess it.

Lin Yan wasn't showing off at all.

Like a friendly neighbor sitting on the edge of a field, chatting casually with you in the evening breeze, he dissects the essence of life in just a few words and gently feeds it into your heart.

Tom and Anthony couldn't understand a single Chinese character, but music is something that doesn't make sense.

The upbeat melody and the relaxed feeling emanating from Lin Yan instantly soothed their wildly beating hearts like a pair of large hands.

The village children, sniffling and with their big, bright eyes wide open, stared blankly at the uncle who played the guitar and whose body seemed to glow.

The song progresses into its chorus.

The melody suddenly brightens, carrying a power to wash away fatigue, like a breeze passing through a valley, dispelling all gloom.

"Do you remember you saying home is the only castle?"

"Continue running along the rice paddy river"

"Smile slightly, I know the dreams you had as a child."

Shen Qingqiu slowly opened her eyes and turned her head away.

The embers of the campfire reflected on Lin Yan's gentle profile, and a deep, unyielding longing filled her eyes.

"Don't cry, let the fireflies carry you away."

"The folk songs are an eternal refuge."

"Let's go home, back to the beauty of the beginning."

Lin Yan played the piano and sang, her toes lightly tapping the rhythm on the muddy ground.

His songs are infused with memories of his past life, a nostalgia for a pure and innocent era, and a profound understanding of how to completely let go in this restless world.

After a brief silence, the live stream, now completely black, erupted in a deluge of comments.

[I'm breaking down... After staying up all night typing in the CBD every day, I've almost forgotten what it felt like to catch loaches barefoot in the fields when I was a kid.]

[What kind of incredible situation is this?! A blind singing session during a power outage made me burst into tears on my bed!]

[...A killer move! No need for million-dollar stage design, no need for lousy lighting, just a beat-up guitar and you're a legend!]

As the final, lighthearted coda ended, Lin Yan flipped her hands over and firmly covered the strings, bringing the lingering sound to an abrupt halt.

The entire threshing ground was deathly silent for a good ten seconds.

"Slap, slap, slap..."

It's unclear which little kid started clapping. Then, applause swept through the entire room like a torrential downpour.

Tom and Anthony clapped their hands so hard they almost broke them. Anthony was so excited he stood up and shouted "Miracle!" in French at the top of his lungs.

"Buzz!"

Just then, the generator roared to life, and several large supplementary lights instantly shone as bright as day, the blinding cold light once again engulfing the threshing ground.

Director Wang stared intently at the monitor, watching as the backstage team, which had nearly plummeted to rock bottom due to a blackout, was pulled back up by a single song, even surging past a terrifying 40 million online views. He was so excited that his hands trembled, and he almost cracked the casing of his walkie-talkie.

A bright light flashed, and Lin Yan squinted in disgust, casually putting the guitar aside and picking up the plate of unpeeled roasted pine nuts.

"Alright, the power's back on. Everyone keep playing music and dancing. I'm going back to my room to sleep; I'm so sleepy my head hurts."

As he spoke, he naturally took Shen Qingqiu's hand, slowly shuffling his slippers towards the Mushroom House, leaving behind only a few dozen people and tens of millions of netizens with a dashing departing figure.

……

The next morning.

While Lin Yan was still clinging to his wife in bed, a black-screen version of "Rice Fragrance"—without even a clear still shot—unreasonably dominated all the trending topics online.

There are no bitter and vengeful conflicts, no grand narratives, only the most primal and pure healing blows.

Even more outrageous, the office phone of the Xiangxi Culture and Tourism Bureau completely crashed within three hours of being turned on in the morning.

Countless working people, exhausted by the 996 work schedule, teared up after listening to "Rice Fragrance" and immediately searched for "Xiangxi Mushroom Village".

By 10 a.m., all air and high-speed rail tickets to western Hunan were sold out.

The few run-down farmhouses around Mushroom Village that rely on individual tourists for their livelihood have bookings booked up for three months in advance.

Even the eggs that Grandpa Liu had saved up for a month at the village entrance were taken away by enthusiastic fans who came from far and wide.

The Law of the Forest God has once again proven powerfully effective.

A single song has single-handedly propelled the GDP of a remote, obscure village to new heights.

The director of the Culture and Tourism Bureau called a meeting overnight, so excited that he slapped his thigh and immediately decided: to present the "Leisurely Days" production team with a banner of the highest honor! He also ordered a report to be submitted overnight to apply for Mushroom Village to be designated as a key provincial-level demonstration village for tourism-driven poverty alleviation!

The culprit that triggered this tsunami...

At this moment, Lin Yan was standing by the well in the yard, his mouth full of toothpaste foam.

Holding his toothbrush, he looked out the half-open gate at the massive crowd of official interview vehicles and excited people blocking the village road, and felt completely numb.

He stiffly turned his head and looked at Shen Qingqiu, who had just finished dressing and walked out of the room, looking equally bewildered. He felt like crying but had no tears.

"Wife..." Lin Yan spat out a mouthful of saliva, "Do we... have to run away again?"