People in Tokyo, the world is clear

"Why are you asking this all of a sudden?"

"I mean, this information could probably be incorporated into one of your future opening lines."

Lin Sen snapped his fingers lightly.

People have many innate habits and hobbies.

One of the worst things is gossip.

The lonely soul longs for resonance, hoping to witness another romantic journey different from its own.

As the saying goes, I am always too bored to watch live storytelling sessions.

Haven’t you seen that in the talent show variety shows that were supposed to rely on each person’s own ability, the competition items have changed from ruthlessness to who can tell their own life story better?

The love of stories is universal. In fact, for a small number of music lovers, digging out the anecdotes behind the songs or even the singers themselves is what they are more passionate about.

"The song is a good song, and the person is an even better person. This is the only way to achieve the desired self-marketing effect."

"So Xiaolin, could you please stop being a riddle teller? I don't understand."

"Then let me give you an example."

Lin Sen was very pleased to see the girl gradually relax.

He threw a can of cheap drink over, squatted down again, and pulled the iron ring side by side with the girl next to him.

"Suppose you are browsing a video rental store and there are two artists' album tapes in front of you."

"One of them has a rather unremarkable cover, just the artist's name and album title, with a photo of a B-list female singer in evening attire. And then there's some weird, meaningless J-pop ornaments around her, like a big golden trumpet-shaped gramophone. Would you buy it right away without hesitation?"

"That description is a bit too graphic, isn't it, Xiaolin?"

"I just want to ask if you dislike it or not, that's all."

"really."

Qingshan Xiazhi pinched his chin and nodded, "Even if I saw an album like this, I would probably look at something else first and then buy it."

After all, these days, music albums like this are so commonplace and so common that they don't interest people.

More importantly, the female singers' voices and singing styles have the common characteristics of factory assembly line production.

The lazy and uninspired urban singing style, with a hint of sharp comments on love and life, is about this.

[I'm blind and can't see the cover, but judging by the sound, it should be the authentic CityPop.]

There is absolutely no way to expect this almost fixed theme to come up with anything new - unless it is a top creative talent like her idol Nakajima.

It's completely lacking in character, so you'll get tired of it if you listen to it too much. That's her experience as a listener...

...

!

Suddenly, there seemed to be a thunderclap in my mind.

After a brief and intense thought, Qingshan Xiazhi immediately looked at the person next to him, but all he got was an expected calm expression.

So the girl, who had been freed from the dilemma of being confused by the authorities, put down the half-full can, suddenly raised her right hand, and knocked her open left palm with a fist.

"Wait, isn't this talking about me before?"

"That is to say, is there a possibility?"

"what?"

"Your performance is more abstract than what I described. The one I described is more meritorious than faulty. Your previous performance, which was forced to cater to the mainstream style, was like chewing on a lighter."

"what."

"Except tonight, of course."

"It means that my strength is really not enough tonight."

"If you insist on judging it that way, then based on your point of view, I solemnly say here, yes."

"Hey!"

The girl raised her head and playfully puffed her cheek and tapped Lin Sen's shoulder.

"But, Xiaolin, I may say something a little presumptuous, but I am indeed very satisfied with my performance today...even if no one liked it."

Unconsciously, the despair and depression melted away in the night sky with the bright moon hanging high in the sky.

Lin Sen saw it but said nothing.

He just waited for the blinking girl to react and changed the subject.

"So, what about the other tape, Xiaolin?"

Lin Sen did not answer immediately.

He simply opened his notebook again, scribbled a few words on it, and then freed his left hand to wave lightly at the person next to him.

When the girl with her eyes wide open came closer cautiously while keeping a distance, the graffiti-like scene in front of her suddenly froze her trembling pupils.

There is a crooked piece of [tape packaging] inside the pages of the book.

A [note] was posted.

There were two lines on the note that made one unable to look away:

[A dream-chasing girl from the countryside of Kansai wants to use her passion and sincerity to weave a hymn about dreams for the bustling city.]

[Stranger passing by, would you be willing to stop and listen for a second?]

Chapter 20: The frozen time continues

The fact that must be acknowledged is that most ordinary people who are not born with a silver spoon in their mouth will ultimately be just one of the countless people in their lives.

So as I grow older, the real me gradually becomes separated from the unique and beautiful self I imagined in my childhood.

The great self died in the memories of childhood.

In the summers to come, ordinary people can only carry despair, holding a few pieces of shattered dreams in their hands, squatting on the roof of a building with upright electric poles, looking at the scattered ravines that do not belong to the city, gradually being strangled by the heat wave, suffocated and dissipated in the tidal sea of ​​people.

"But the romance of life is not to succumb to predetermined fate."

The streets before the Golden Week seemed like a battlefield for various businesses.

The upcoming holiday will bring huge passenger flow.

The promotional plan was printed in black and white on hot flyers and distributed to workers, who were eager to get a share of the huge amount of hot money during the golden age and golden holidays.

Everyone present here is thinking about how to make money and have a bright future.

"However, it doesn't include us two idiots who paid for printing the flyers ourselves."

"Come on, chasing your dreams has to cost something."

Lin Sen's rebuttal made Ito Xiguo, who had followed him for two or three blocks, roll his eyes.

The girl squatting on the stairs to rest sighed softly, tightened the white hat on her smooth black hair, and lightly adjusted the elastic band that secured the ponytail at the back of her head.

Then he looked at the simple and crude flyer placed on his knees.

She raised her fair hand, supported her little chin, and looked at the promotional tool that Lin Sen had urgently asked the printing factory to make.

"A Kansai girl's Tokyo dream. While it certainly evokes longing if you savor it, does anyone really pay attention to such things when the holidays are approaching?"

After reading out the promotional sentence in eye-catching fonts, Ito Xiguo took another look at the surrounding environment.

I watched as people walked around in groups, chatting with smiles about their ideal travel destinations for the Golden Week, while casually stuffing the stack of flyers from various businesses into the trash can that passed by.

Of course, the one that she and the people around her had just coaxed and persuaded to send out was indispensable.

“You always have to accept the inevitable sunk costs.”

Lin Sen shuffled a stack of self-printed flyers in his hand like a deck of cards. "What's Ito's impression of Aoyama?"

"How should I put it... He's probably a guy that people would like a little bit."

"That's fine."

The comments made at this moment, pretending to be calm, were unexpectedly cute and forced.

After all, the fact was that when they met in the morning, the short-haired girl, who was a little shy in front of strangers, almost couldn't withstand Qingshan Xiazhi's familiar enthusiasm.

With the help of a matchmaker, the trio naturally made an appointment to have dinner at an izakaya in the evening.

Miraculously, we started to have some semblance of a small organization the first time we met.

The kind-hearted unemployed Xiao Ito was happy to get on board and come to help Lin Sen implement the so-called publicity and marketing strategy.

"It just feels like it's useless. It's like our flyers were thrown away like those discount promotions for goods in shopping malls."

“Some people are still paying attention.”

Lin Sen sat next to the girl, gently pulled the fabric on the shoulder of her shirt, and guided her to turn her head and raise her arm to find a middle-aged man at the end.

"Look, isn't this reading our flyer carefully?"

Then, under the gaze of the two, the middle-aged man finished browsing and threw the paper into the square trash can next to him.

"..."

The awkward atmosphere spread.

Miss Ito, unable to hold it in any longer, looked at the people around her jokingly, with a stubborn expression on her face as if she was still trying to be calm.

"Don't panic, he's finished reading it."

"And then you just forget about it, right?"

"That's also a review. At least it left an impression in his mind."

I have thought about it and led the three prayers.

Lin Sen coughed lightly. "So-called propaganda is repetition over and over again. When the person sees the same or similar information again, the message we want to tell him will naturally come to his mind. This time, this time, we have won."

"So the only things in the seniors' vocabulary are small wins, medium wins, and big wins, right?"

“Be bold, it’s the medium win, the big win and the extra-large win.”

"."

Miss Ito, who was so gentle that she almost cried, finally stopped bothering someone about their big wins, but just pulled the other person up.

"Seems like you've regained your energy. Shall we move on to the next area?"

"no problem."

However, the two men were stopped by a figure halfway as they were about to start the high-speed battle, firing one shot after another.

"meet again."

"you are?"

Lin Sen was just about to take a closer look at this obstacle with handsome short hair and earrings, but Miss Ito, who was doing the same thing beside him, had already completed the identification.

Then my sleeve was gently pulled, and a faint warm breath blew into my ears.

"The photographer who took our picture last time."

"Oh, her."

After hearing this, Lin Sen had some impression.

A month ago, when I was taking Miss Ito on a backpacking trip, I met the elderly woman who claimed to be a street photographer.

After obtaining consent, I took a street photo and said I would enter it in a competition.

I didn't expect to meet you again.

Lin Sen shook hands with the other party politely, and then heard a new request.

"You two really look like natural models, a perfect match for the camera!"

A bunch of flattery, the purpose is to get another photo shoot.

Lin Sen originally wanted to refuse.

It's already a stretch to do it once, and it's a bit too much to do it again.