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

The next morning.

Shen Qingqiu received an urgent phone call and went out to her studio to deal with the lawyer's letter sent by Xingyao Entertainment.

Before leaving, she specifically told Lin Yan not to wander off, as important guests would be visiting at noon.

Lin Yan's reaction was: "Does it include meals? If not, I won't see you."

Enraged, Shen Qingqiu slammed the door and left.

It was almost noon.

A low-profile black Hongqi sedan was parked outside the villa area.

An elderly man with gray hair and wearing a faded Zhongshan suit stepped out of the car.

It was Li Mingchang, the president of the Chinese Music Association.

"Mr. Li, let me accompany you inside." The young man who was also the driver and assistant was a little worried.

"No need," Li Mingchang waved his hand.

"That girl Qingqiu has been praising this kid to the skies. I want to see just how clever this young man who wrote 'Sorrow' really is."

"What are you going to do if you go along? You'll only alert them."

Mr. Li took a slightly worn-out insulated box out of the trunk.

He bought it on the way from a century-old roast duck shop.

He carried the insulated box on his shoulder, tidied his slightly messy hair, and looked exactly like an ordinary food delivery man.

When they arrived at Shen Qingqiu's villa, Old Li rang the doorbell.

After a full five minutes, the door finally opened with a "click".

Lin Yan had messy hair and was wearing a loose T-shirt and shorts.

He was still holding a game controller in his hand, and half of his body was sticking out, still half asleep.

"So fast? I only ordered it less than ten minutes ago," Lin Yan muttered.

His gaze fell directly on the insulated box in Old Li's hand.

"Roast duck? Didn't I order braised chicken? You must have brought the wrong thing, sir."

Old Li looked Lin Yan up and down. Was this the legendary musical genius?

He looks like a complete internet addict and a loser.

"Ahem." Old Li cleared his throat and continued Lin Yan's words.

"No mistake. The store was having a promotion, offering a free upgrade to a set meal. It's just that the address is hard to find, it was exhausting."

Lin Yan's eyes lit up.

"Free upgrade? There's still such a good deal these days. Thanks, sir."

He reached out and took the insulated box, and just as he was about to close the door, he suddenly stopped.

A chilling game sound effect came from the television in the room: "You Died."

Lin Yan scratched his hair in frustration.

"Damn it, this tree guard is inhuman! It's been blocking me all morning!"

He turned to look at Old Li, who was still standing at the door, and casually asked a question.

"Sir, have you ever played Elden Ring?"

Old Li was stunned.

He usually studies folk music and symphonic music, and even struggles to use a smartphone, so he knows nothing about games.

"No... I've never played it."

"That's perfect!" Lin Yan grabbed Old Li's sleeve.

"Come on in, lend a hand. I can't beat this boss by myself, can you just press the roll button for me?"

Old Li was dragged into the house by this brute force.

The door slammed shut behind me.

Five minutes later.

Li Mingchang, one of the most prominent figures in the Chinese music scene, is sitting upright on the sofa at this moment.

He held a controller in his hand, staring intently at the giant monster on the screen.

"Dodge! Grandpa, dodge quickly!" Lin Yan frantically pressed the attack button from the side. "He's going to swing his axe!"

"I dodged! I pressed that... X!" Old Li's forehead was covered in sweat, and his thumb was pressed hard on the handle.

"That's the jump button! The circle button is for rolling!"

The character on the screen was cleaved away by an axe.

The health bar was instantly reduced to zero.

"You died."

"Sigh..." Lin Yan threw the controller aside and slumped onto the sofa, utterly dejected.

"Damn it, all that effort was for nothing."

Old Li put down the handle and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

This kid's pace was too fast; he didn't have any time to react or respond.

No, we need to get to the point.

Old Li straightened his clothes and began to speak casually.

"Young man, do you just stay home playing video games all day? Don't you have a job?"

"This house looks pretty big. Are you...working as a security guard here?"

Lin Yan opened the insulated delivery box and took out the roast duck.

He skillfully rolled up a lotus leaf pancake, stuffed it into his mouth, and mumbled a reply.

"No security guard gets this kind of treatment. I get room and board here, and I'm basically paid to be lazy."

"Your duck tastes pretty good. It doesn't taste like ordinary takeout; it's a bit like the flavor of Bianyifang (a famous chain restaurant chain)."

Old Li's eyes flickered slightly. This kid's tongue is so sharp.

"Just bought it randomly," Old Li said dismissively, continuing to probe.

"Since you don't have to work, don't you have any hobbies? Like listening to music or writing songs or something?"

His gaze swept over the guitar hanging on the wall, and he thought that now it would be time to pick up the thread.

Lin Yan swallowed the roast duck and glanced at Old Li.

"Sir, why are you asking so many questions? Aren't you a food deliveryman?"

"I..." Old Li stammered.

"But since you asked," Lin Yan said, taking out a tissue to wipe his hands.

"I also write songs. I just wrote two yesterday. I earned a little money for food."

Old Li's eyes lit up; finally, they were getting to the point!

"Oh? Songwriting? What style? Pop or rock?"

Old Li deliberately pretended to be an amateur.

"I don't understand the pop songs these days. They're all electronic music and rap, so noisy. They have no substance at all."

"The old songs still have more flavor, better melodies, and deeper meaning."

After listening, Lin Yan neither refuted nor agreed.

He simply pulled out a toothpick, picked his teeth, and spoke in a flat tone.

"It's good that it lacks substance. The current music market is just an assembly line factory."

"Capital needs to be quickly converted into cash, hence the complete formula for chord progression."

"4536251, this chord progression can be used in tens of thousands of songs."

"As long as the rhythm is so catchy that it makes people tap their feet, and a few so-called popular celebrities dance a bit, fans will naturally buy it."

Old Li composed himself.

A few words, but they hit the nail on the head.

This kid has a very clear understanding of the operating logic of the entire market and the underlying structure of music arrangement.

"So, according to you, the Chinese music scene is beyond saving?" Old Li asked tentatively.

Lin Yan took a sip of the duck bone soup that came with the insulated box and shook his head.

"There is hope, but it's very difficult."

"Music is rooted in emotion. Nowadays, songs lack emotion; they only contain technique and calculation."

"Like this roast duck..." Lin Yan pointed to the empty plate on the table.

"No matter how crispy the skin of a duck roasted by a machine on an assembly line, it doesn't have the woody aroma of a duck roasted in a wood-fired oven."

"This is the soul."

"Soul." Old Li chewed on the word.

The way he looked at Lin Yan had completely changed.

This is not an ordinary young man; he is a monster who truly understands music and has even touched the core of art.

"So your songs have a soul?" Old Li pressed.

Lin Yan smiled but didn't answer directly. He stood up, walked to the wall, and took the guitar down with one hand.

There was no intro, no tuning.

Lin Yan plucked the strings twice with his fingers, producing only two extremely simple E-flat chords.

Zheng.

The deep sound of a guitar echoed in the empty living room.

"The soul is not in the song, but in the heart of the listener."

Lin Yan casually strummed the strings and hummed a line softly.

"One cup to freedom, one cup to death."

Just one sentence.

Old Li's hand, which was holding the teacup, suddenly froze.

He had only heard "Sorrow" on his phone video yesterday. Although it was moving, it was nowhere near as soul-stirring as hearing it live.

The vicissitudes and serenity in that voice were like those of an old monster who had lived half his life.

Just as Li was about to lay all his cards on the table, reveal his identity, and have a good chat with this kid about the national team projects.

Lin Yan suddenly stopped what he was doing.

He hung his guitar aside and turned to stare intently at the television screen.

"Sir." Lin Yan's expression changed.

"What's wrong? Did you think of a melody?" Old Li asked excitedly as he leaned closer.

"no."

Lin Yan grabbed the handle from the coffee table and shoved it into Old Li's hand.

"Taking advantage of the current network latency, let's use the Tree Guardian to block the terrain!"

"Quick! Press attack now! We have to kill this bastard today!"

Mr. Li: ? ? ?

The artistic passion that had just been brewing was instantly doused with cold water.

What on earth is going on in this kid's head?!

"No, we were just talking about the music..."

"Music is nothing compared to fighting the boss! Hurry up and press the buttons!" Lin Yan was so anxious that he jumped up and down.

Left with no other choice, Old Li gritted his teeth and once again became a humiliating, tumbling training session.

Half an hour later.

Shen Qingqiu pushed open the villa door.

Li Mingchang, the president of the Chinese Music Association and a national-level figure, is squeezing onto the sofa with Lin Yan, an employee of her salted fish restaurant.

An old man and a young boy stared at the screen, shouting and yelling.

"Hide, Old Li!"

"I hid from Kobayashi! He chased after me and started hacking at me!"

"You're so stupid!"

Shen Qingqiu stood at the door, and her bag fell to the ground with a thud.