Mygo, you guys seem to be getting a bit heavy-hearted.

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Chapter 140 A Song Like a Mirror

……

Although it was supposed to be a chorus, Yanming deliberately lowered his voice, or stopped singing a certain part and switched to humming softly, pretending to be focused on strumming the guitar.

Even so, some muscle memories that have become ingrained in our instincts still increase the risk of exposure.

Even with her vocal cords badly damaged, where even the slightest tremor would trigger excruciating nerve pain, her hoarse voice flowed calmly like running water, without trembling or hesitation.

An industry insider once commented on his singing voice in this way.

[Eos' lead singer is the most unique singer I've ever seen in my decades in the industry. His singing style lacks both powerful high notes and delicate vocal transitions. I found none of the professional techniques that people admire in him. He's more amateur than an amateur, and more ordinary than ordinary.]

[Yet this very person, and this very song, have caused an unprecedented uproar in this country, and the reason is just as simple...]

[Whether it's a young child or an elderly person, everyone can easily sing along after hearing it once.]

As a lead singer

Yanming actually can't sing at all.

His childhood was spent on the streets and in alleys. He received no training in vocalization and was forced onto the stage. The distance between him and those from privileged backgrounds was like a bridge connecting heaven and earth.

They can sing with the elegance of the Vienna Concert Hall, and they can sing the epic tale of Noah's Ark.

Those songs—whether soaring, beautiful, melodious, moving, magnificent, or extravagant—cannot be truly sung with confidence by those who haven't experienced them.

Yanming naturally couldn't sing it either.

For him, fixing the leaky roof as soon as possible was far more important than anything else, including Vienna.

Worried about the same things most people worry about all day long, constantly running around trying to make a living.

The so-called youthful spirit is almost nowhere to be seen in Yanming. It seems that he could no longer be called a "youth" from a very, very young age.

How can ordinary people, who are so commonplace, stand on a live stage and sing songs that people love?

He probably doesn't understand it himself.

However, Yanming didn't care.

It was just a job to make a living, so of course he wouldn't invest any extra emotion in it.

Singing is fine, let's sing!

For the rest, just do it at your own pace.

……

The singing stopped, but the guitar left a lingering, drawn-out outro.

Without joy or any other emotion, Yanming simply sat there like a statue, playing the same tune he had long since worn out.

All voices faded away, until the guitar took its final bow.

"Den-"

As the last note faded, Yanming stopped what he was doing and broke the silence by speaking first: "See? I told you I couldn't sing well."

It's more than just not working.

In Yanming's own opinion, he has regressed too much compared to a year ago; calling him an amateur would be too kind.

It's like a toddler taking its first steps, even lacking that youthful energy.

Yanming genuinely couldn't understand why the system panel gave a rating of Lv5 for [Singing Proficiency].

If his guitar skills are also at Lv5, then in Yanming's own eyes, his singing might be at Lv2 or even lower.

In this era of big bands, any random person you pick in a ring would sing better than him.

Yanming chuckled self-deprecatingly, took the guitar off the rack, and put it back in its case.

"Pah...pah..."

Yanming suddenly raised his head

"Little lamp?" He was a little confused.

The sound was directed at him, but clearly, his singing was not enough to move anyone, nor was there anything praiseworthy or worthy of applause.

"Yanming-kun," Xiangzi looked at him seriously, "what is your own assessment of your singing voice?"

No?

He said that kind of singing was no good?

What a joke... This is enough to surpass the terrifying strength of the original lead vocalist, Hatsuka, in her Mujica. How can it be described as "not good"?

In fact, halfway through the song, Xiangzi had already quietly put down the microphone and listened silently to Yanming's solo performance.

He was so engrossed in the music that he didn't notice it was over.

The voice wasn't particularly striking; it was about the same as Yanming's usual voice. But it was in this ordinary, conversational tone that Xiangzi heard his own voice.

More accurately, it was the helpless version of myself when I ran away from the Toyokawa family with my father.

She had previously regarded that difficult time as her suffering and trials, but now she sees it as just another part of life, not even special.

Yanming's singing voice was like a pool of muddy water, so murky it couldn't be more murky, a mixed bag of fish and monsters, yet when you got really close, a murky reflection would appear on the dirty surface.

That is the most authentic and ordinary self, stripped of all the restlessness.

This is by no means accidental.

That low, husky yet incredibly clear voice—not only she, but Xiaodeng and Aine must have heard it too…

"Mr. Yanming, what... is this?" Ai Yin finally remembered to breathe, but before she could catch her breath, she frantically asked, "Why do I feel like... I'm singing?"

She was absolutely certain that she hadn't made a sound, and the image reflected on her retina was that of the young man.

But instinct overcame the doubts the brain was asking and clearly transmitted a message into its central nervous system.

The person in front of me singing with a guitar is "Chihaya Aine".

That song, sung by someone in a distant, foreign land, filled with confusion and sorrow, could only be sung by herself.

The lamp pressed down on his heart, preventing it from beating any faster: "It's like... a... mirror."

Mr. Yanming's voice is truly like a mirror; everyone can find their own reflection in it.

What the lamp saw was what she looked like after she truly became human.

Her image is just as she imagined: an ordinary yet kind good child who wears little dresses, has long hair, plays in a band, has her own friends and social life.

No longer confused, no longer special, everything is just so "ordinary" and "of course"...

It's exactly the life that Deng has always dreamed of.

Xiangzi looked seriously into Yan's eyes again: "Yanming-kun...do you really know what you're singing?"

Yanming knew the answer to such a simple question, and he casually replied, "I'm just singing in my own way."

Be

That's right.

But it’s much more than that.

Yanming was singing his own song, but the shadow he projected encompassed all living humans, as long as that person still possessed a "human" side.

Chapter 141 Like

...Unimaginable, unbelievable.

Xiangzi listened to the original version of the song many times, but through the receiver, she felt that Yanming sang it even better and more in line with the meaning of the song lyrics.

She took a deep breath, finally managing to calm her turbulent emotions:

"I can't comment."

Such singing is difficult to evaluate, because it is not only evaluating Yanming as a person, but also evaluating oneself.

If she were simply describing this song, she would use the neutral term "indescribable".

It cannot be described in words, nor can it be described with concrete things; it is beyond the comprehension of the human mind.

There may be some exaggeration involved, but it's only to a limited extent.

After all, Xiangzi really heard his own singing from that period—from Yanming's mouth.

"Me...me too." Aine is a fan of the band Eos, you could even call her a die-hard fan, but even she admitted it.

The lead singer who disappeared a year ago is truly not as accomplished as Yanming just now in this song.

Who exactly is this young man who says he'll teach me to play guitar?

"It sounds beautiful... I really like it." But then the lamp said something that no one expected.

Xiangzi looked at his friend who had stood up in surprise: "Hey, Xiaodeng?"

I once read a passage in a book, but I've forgotten the exact details, though I still clearly remember the general meaning.

Those who strive to be unique often end up blending into the crowd.

Conversely, the more someone wants to return to the ordinary, the more extraordinary they become in everything they do.

The lamp revealed a genuine, radiant smile to Yanming: "I understand... what I want now, and I finally know what I should do."

The future always seemed so far away to her.

Confusion often accompanies me, turning into a thick fog, making the road ahead uncertain.

But in Yanming's singing, Deng saw the ideal version of herself.

No longer ethereal, but truly present before me, living in the way I most desire.

Although it was very short, only the length of one song, it disappeared afterward.

But this at least proves that she has that possibility.

She could indeed become the ideal "human being".

Between "wanting to become human" and "becoming human" lies an insurmountable chasm.

But Yanming's singing voice, like the astronomical telescope described in the astronomy club's notes, helped her consciousness briefly escape the constraints of her physical body and reach that star-filled other side.

This future, which seemed to arrive in an instant, truly gave her hope and motivation.

And such a future would undoubtedly require Mr. Yanming's help.

Now, in their daily interactions, Deng finds it difficult to determine how she should feel about Yanming.

Just seeing them makes my heart overflow with joy and anticipation.

Is this kind of feeling what adults call "liking"?

The light was unclear, and the person didn't want to admit it.

because

Longing is the feeling that is farthest from understanding.

She doesn't yet have the courage to break the existing relationship and truly transform it into that kind of "liking".

A little bit of probing, not to possess, but to secretly hide that joy and keep it in one's pocket.

If you slowly accumulate these small moments of happiness, they can also last a lifetime, right?

Ai Yin glanced at Deng's almost tearful eyes, then at Yan Ming who seemed a little lost, and asked in a daze, "Could it be that Xiao Deng likes Mr. Yan Ming?"

Lamp: "Huh?"

Xiangzi: "Huh?"

Yanming: "Huh?"

One sentence stirred up a thousand waves

All three expressed their confusion and shock in their own ways.

"Little lamplight lamplight lamplight?" Xiangzi stammered, "You, you, you, you like, like, like..."

Don't the books that teach others how to date say that you only need to be wary of your best friend?

Xiao Mu has clearly done a very good job, so why is it Xiao Deng's turn first...?