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

Night fell completely.

The surface of Erhai Lake was covered with a layer of fine, silvery scales by the moonlight.

On the private beach outside the inn, Old Mai set up a huge iron pot with glowing red fruitwood charcoal burning at the bottom.

In the iron pot, the milky white chicken soup was bubbling and bubbling.

Old Mai lavishly poured a large bowl of freshly picked Boletus luridus, matsutake mushrooms, and termite mushrooms into the pot.

Next to it was half a whole roasted lamb, dripping with oil.

The unique savory aroma of cumin, chili powder, and wild mushrooms hits you right in the head.

Lin Yan sat on a beach chair, holding an enamel bowl in his hand, his eyes fixed on the pot of boiling soup.

"Old Mai, isn't that enough? If we keep cooking it any longer, all the nutrients will be lost." Lin Yan swallowed hard.

Old Mai, holding a long-handled wooden spoon, gave him a disapproving look.

"What's the rush! If this 'blue-green' stuff isn't cooked through by even a minute, you're in for a holographic 3D fantasy extravaganza on the beach tonight—it'll be all about catching little devils!"

Shen Qingqiu sat next to Lin Yan, wearing a thin shawl to shield herself from the cool sea breeze of the night.

"Director Lin, please tone it down. Director Li from the Culture and Tourism Bureau is coming to see you tomorrow, and I don't want to see you making headlines for eating poisonous mushrooms." She handed him a tissue.

Half an hour later, Old Mai finally announced that dinner was served.

Without any hesitation, Lin Yan filled his bowl to the brim with mushrooms.

One bite and an indescribable sweetness explodes in your mouth, the fresh aroma of plants mixed with the rich flavor of free-range chicken, instantly conquering your taste buds.

"Amazing! This trip was definitely worthwhile!" Lin Yan gave a thumbs up.

Shen Qingqiu also took a small bite, and her originally cold eyes immediately brightened.

Old Mai opened several bottles of the local specialty, "Wind, Flower, Snow, and Moon" beer, and poured Lin Yan a full glass.

"Brother Lin, what was the name of that piece of music you played this afternoon?"

Old Mike raised his glass, his tone completely changed, now carrying the respect a veteran in the industry would have for a monster.

"Fight." Lin Yan clinked glasses with him and downed his drink.

"Great name! That's awesome!" Old Mai exclaimed, shaking his head in admiration.

"I, Lao Mai, spent twenty years in the Beijing music scene, and then, disheartened, I returned to Dali. I truly thought the Chinese music scene had become a wasteland, but I never expected... there would still be a monster like you."

"That old bastard Zhang Ji is right, you have the whole world of martial arts hidden in your belly."

After several rounds of drinks...

The whole roasted lamb was cut into small pieces, and the wild mushrooms were all gone.

Old Mai, his face flushed from drinking, sat by the fire with his Martin guitar in his arms, eyes closed, and began humming off-key Yunnan folk songs.

The night breeze gradually brought a chill.

Lin Yan leaned back in the beach chair, listening to the waves crashing against the rocks, and looked up at the low-hanging starry sky.

The stars in Dali seem so close you could reach out and pluck them from the sky.

Shen Qingqiu drank two glasses of beer. Her alcohol tolerance was not high to begin with, and now two obvious red marks appeared on her fair cheeks.

She hunched over slightly and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself.

"Are you cold?" Lin Yan turned to look at her.

"A little."

Slightly tipsy, Shen Qingqiu's voice was much softer than usual, shedding her sharp CEO persona and gaining a touch of languor.

Lin Yan didn't say anything. He stood up, walked to the locker on the first floor of the inn, took out a thick wool blanket, and put it on her legs.

Shen Qingqiu looked up at him.

Those eyes, which usually exuded rationality, were now slightly moist with a hint of intoxication.

Neither of them spoke.

The firewood in the bonfire crackled and popped, the flickering firelight reflecting off the two men's faces.

The atmosphere became subtle and quiet at that moment.

Shen Qingqiu stared quietly at Lin Yan's profile. This man usually acted like a lazy bum, his mind filled with nothing but idleness and slacking off.

Yet he is the one who can write soul-stirring hits in minutes; who can pull her into a safe house in a downpour; and who can use his god-like skills to force the proud and arrogant old man to bow down and admit defeat in this small courtyard.

An unknown emotion, fermented by alcohol, quietly sprouted.

Shen Qingqiu leaned slightly forward, resting her head gently on Lin Yan's shoulder.

Lin Yan's body stiffened instantly.

He could clearly smell the faint, cool scent of cedar in her hair, and feel her soft cheek pressed against his shoulder.

Boss, something's definitely not right with you.

"Boss..." Lin Yan tentatively began.

"Don't speak." Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes, his voice as soft as a sigh. "Let me lean on you for five minutes. Just five minutes."

Lin Yan's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

He didn't pull his shoulder away in the end, but slowly relaxed his body and let her lean on him.

The sound of waves, the sound of wind, and the sound of a burning fire.

And the even, steady breathing of the people around me.

Lin Yan looked up at the dazzling Milky Way above, feeling an unusual tranquility in his heart, yet also experiencing ripples of emotion.

Having been in this world for so long, he has always been thinking about how to get rid of capital, how to make money to buy a house, and how to live a comfortable life as a nobody.

But at this moment, sitting on the tranquil shore of Erhai Lake, I feel the real weight on my shoulders.

He suddenly felt that the starry sky before him and the scenery in the distance deserved to be given a specific melody.

Lin Yan slowly stretched out his left hand and patted Old Mai, who was dozing off next to him.

Old Mai groggily opened his eyes.

"Old Mai, give me the guitar." Lin Yan's voice was very soft, as if afraid of waking the person on his shoulder.

Old Mai paused for a moment, then quickly handed over the Martin guitar he was holding.

Lin Yan caught it with one hand and gently placed the instrument on his other thigh.

He didn't use a pick; he simply plucked the strings with the pads of his right fingers in an extremely gentle manner.

A few simple, clean, yet infinitely spacious arpeggios flowed out slowly with the night breeze.

That was a divine prelude, enough to soothe any weary soul.

Shen Qingqiu was not actually asleep.

As she listened to the melody that was so gentle it touched her very bones, her long eyelashes trembled slightly, yet she was even more reluctant to leave his shoulder.

Lin Yan gazed at the distant starlight and spoke softly:

"This song is dedicated to the night view of Dali."