A Young Woman's Heart

Mr. Xue, dressed in a snow-white T-shirt and beige shorts, grinned at Mo Xueyao and said, "Just arrived."

"Young man, oh—" the old man suddenly looked him up and down, "You look like one of my comrades!"

"Really? I'm honored."

"He was a very accurate shooter. With a rifle, one bullet could kill a person. Unfortunately, he only killed a dozen or so before... sigh."

"Uncle," Mr. Xue addressed him.

The huge age difference made Mo Xueyao and Hua Yinyin roll their eyes together.

"Tsk, just call me 'Grandpa'!"

"Haha, sir! Would you like a seat?" Mr. Xue took out the folding stool he had brought.

"No need, no need, I'm fine standing up, haha. Um, can I request a song today? I'd like to sing a few more."

"No problem, this is your outdoor karaoke room today."

"Haha, thanks! You're a nice guy, young man."

"Well then, how about starting with... Jasmine Flower? Uh, is that alright?"

"OK." Mr. Xue made a gesture, then handed the microphone to the old man and stepped back.

Mo Xueyao had no doubt, because the suona really doesn't need a microphone.

She's performed it so many times, how could she not know?

First came the sound of Hua Yinyin's pipa, the crisp and melodious classical folk music that instantly transported people back to the past.

Jasmine can be considered China's version of Katyusha.

However, the song wasn't about a specific woman, but about a flower.

What it carries is the spirit of an entire nation.

Resilient and unyielding, proud and unyielding in the face of cold.

But at the same time, it is not so aggressive, but rather carries the gentleness unique to this vast land.

The setting sun painted the clouds red, and the old man picked up the microphone, ready to speak.

Mr. Xue's suona horn began to play.

The suona horn instantly transformed the slightly melancholic and gentle song into a festive one, as if someone were getting married right now.

Several passersby couldn't help but laugh, which also attracted some onlookers.

They followed suit and put some small coins—one or two cents, or five or one yuan—into the instrument case where the old man had put money.

The sound of the suona was extremely penetrating. Mo Zhuyou, who was in the distance, tiptoed and suddenly quickened her pace.

Mo Xiaoxiao followed closely behind, her eyes sparkling with a light laugh as she asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can hear Xiaoxue's suona! It seems they've already started!"

Mo Zhuyou arrived, and everyone glanced at her, but the music didn't stop.

She set up the drum set twice as fast as usual, then sat down and took a deep breath.

Jasmine flower accompanied by the drumbeats of a drum kit?

The pace suddenly quickened.

The gentle song turned into a fast-paced pop song, and the old man started singing along faster.

He was not unhappy at all; on the contrary, he enjoyed it immensely.

I just wonder if alternating between sadness and joy might be bad for the elderly person's heart...

The musical style suddenly changed, from Jasmine Flower to Heroes' Song.

The drum kit finally proved its worth.

—Although it is still not as good as the traditional big drum.

"Huh...?" Mo Xueyao had found it strange from the moment Mo Zhuyou was able to keep up with the melody of Jasmine Flower. Now she was even keeping up with the Heroes Song. Although she had played it a few times before, she was never as skilled as she was this time.

She was no longer forcing herself to follow Hua Yinyin's tune, but was taking control of the rhythm herself, just like a professional drummer.

The old man also started singing the "Heroes' Song," and when the song ended, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Haha, today was really fun!" the old man couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Mo Xueyao turned to look at Mo Zhuyou: "Youyou, you're in good spirits today?"

"Hmph, I did practice hard during the summer vacation!"

Her sister, standing nearby, explained with a smile, "Yes, Youyou bought sheet music specifically for drums and practiced with a lot of songs. She practices until she's covered in sweat every day."

Mo Xueyao couldn't help but lower her head and smile, feeling both gratified and relieved.

Mo Zhuyou has also fallen in love with the drum set. It must feel great to work hard for something you love.

She felt the same way. Although she didn't play the keyboard often, every time she took it out, even just sitting on it, she felt much calmer.

Many emotions that cannot be expressed in words can be expressed through music.

Music is a universal language.

Yu Shu cautiously peeked out from the crowd and stood carefully next to Mo Zhuyou, as if she were not a band member but just an onlooker.

"Shu'er's here? We have a guitar now!" Hua Yinyin spotted her immediately. "Come to the front quickly! By the way, did you practice at home during the summer vacation?"

“Yes…” Yu Shu leaned back timidly, but Wang Jiale behind her pushed her forward.

"Hey, here comes the bassist!"

"OK, we're all here!" Hua Yinyin gripped the microphone and excitedly shouted to the growing crowd, "Hello everyone, we are the Snow Music Band! The band from Yukong High School! Sir, can we sing one of our own songs?"

"Of course, I've had my fill, haha!" The old man wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood to the side, laughing heartily.

"Next up is a song we wrote ourselves—'Fallen Leaves Are Like Potato Chips'!"

"One, two, one, two, three!" Mo Zhuyou was very familiar with this tune, and when Hua Yinyin shouted it out, her body even moved involuntarily.

He shook his body while banging on the drumsticks.

The drummer, the starting pistol of the band.

Mo Zhuyou has finally grown to the point where she can take on this responsibility.

In the past, Hua Yinyin was often the one in charge of setting the pace.

Mo Xueyao's piano playing, with the bass as a backdrop, finally made the band's sound more three-dimensional.

Yu Shu's guitar playing through an electronic synthesizer added a touch of carefree spirit.

This song is perfect for it.

Although the pipa can replace some parts, it is ultimately not a guitar.

Yu Shu's addition was not just icing on the cake, but it finally made the band complete.

The fusion of traditional Chinese and Western musical instruments creates a vibrant and beautiful fusion.

The number of onlookers grew larger and larger.

A few rays of sunset hung down, like tomato soup overflowing from a pot.

Mo Xueyao tilted her head back and pressed the last key.

She felt even more tired than her last performance on an underground stage.

But this feeling is also great.

The not-so-cool weather had already made her sweat profusely.

Sweat dripped down her eyelashes, making it difficult for her to see clearly.

Within just a few songs, the area was already filled with stalls, and some vendors started using loudspeakers to hawk their wares.

You can hear the sound of bottles clinking together.

You can smell the enticing aroma of the food.

You can also see the different expressions on the faces of passersby.

There weren't a lot of people gathered around the band, not to the point of being completely packed, but there was still a small circle of people.

These weren't spectators who came specifically to see the show; they were passersby who stopped to watch because they found it interesting.

The sense of accomplishment is even stronger than when I'm on stage.

Because they were genuinely drawn to their own songs.

"Then, let me introduce ourselves. We are the Snow Music Band! Whew, let's take a break." Hua Yinyin slumped into a stool. "How about introducing the characters, Xiao Yaoyao?"

"Huh, it's me?"

"Because I'm tired!"

"Playing the piano is tiring too, you know?"

"Playing the pipa is much more tiring than it is for you!"

"whispering sound--!"

Some people laughed out loud, seemingly amused by the comedy.

Mo Xueyao and the others couldn't help but laugh too.

……

Chapter Ninety-One: Performing at the Night Market (Part Two)

The setting sun was finally almost sinking below the towering buildings.

Its gentle, though not dazzling, light shines through the gaps between the buildings.

The light shone on the wall, and some of it reflected back, landing on Mo Xueyao and the others' backs and faces.

A few specks of plaster had crumbled off the mottled wall. A stray cat darted by and landed on it with a soft 'rustle'. The cat shook itself off and then darted away again in a flash.