deltrittennovels Chapter 83 You Promised Not to Cry
Chapter 83 You Promised Not to Cry
The playground is much gentler at night than during the day.
After the sun set, most of the heat dissipated, and a cool breeze blew by.
The classes dispersed and sat in circles on the lawn.
Leave an open space in the middle to serve as a temporary stage.
The streetlights were on, casting a dim yellow light on everyone's faces, casting long, swirling shadows on the ground.
Instructor Xu stood in the middle of the circle of Class 8, and for once, he showed an expression that wasn't one of scolding.
"Tonight, each class has to put on a performance. Singing or dancing is fine, who wants to come up?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the whole class cheered.
Finally, I don't have to stand at attention anymore, I don't have to march in formation anymore, and I can finally sit and watch others perform.
Xiao Yunqing stood next to Song Huan and clapped her hands as well, a smile on her face.
Who wouldn't enjoy watching a show without having to train?
The cheers from Instructor Xu and the others subsided a bit, and he asked again, "Who wants to be the first one up?"
The playground fell silent.
The people who were cheering just moments ago are now becoming increasingly silent.
Some people looked down at the grass, some pretended to tie their shoelaces, and some turned their faces away, not daring to meet the instructor's gaze.
Zhao Qihang tucked his head into his collar, Lu Ciyuan started biting his nails again, and Chen Xu lowered his head, his face against his knees.
Instructor Xu smiled and his gaze swept across everyone's face.
Sweep to the left, the left side looks down; sweep to the right, the right side looks up at the sky.
They walked around for a while, but no one said a word.
Not far away, in the circle of Class 7, a boy stood in the middle singing Jay Chou's "Sunny Day," completely off-key, but the whole class clapped enthusiastically.
Someone in Class 9 was telling a joke. After he finished, no one laughed, but he laughed by himself and then went downstairs.
The instructor from the neighboring Class 10 shouted over, "Old Xu, is nobody in your class brave enough to go up?"
Instructor Xu's face darkened.
He stopped smiling, stood up straight, and put his hands behind his back.
"Alright, nobody's going up, huh? Then let's train as usual. Stand up!"
Xiao Yunqing panicked immediately.
[No! Hurry up and send a handsome guy or a beautiful girl up!]
Please, please, no more training.
Song Huan almost burst out laughing when she heard this.
"Instructor!" someone shouted.
Instructor Xu stopped.
The whole class looked in the direction of the sound.
Song Huan stood up from the crowd, raised her hand under Xiao Yunqing's shocked gaze, and asked, "Can I sing?"
Instructor Xu glanced at him and said, "Okay."
As Song Huan walked out of the circle, she and Xiao Yunqing exchanged a glance.
Xiao Yunqing looked up at him, her eyes filled with doubt, and a whispered thought drifted over.
When did he learn to sing?
Song Huan didn't answer. She walked to the middle, stood next to Instructor Xu, and asked, "Instructor, could I borrow a guitar?"
Instructor Xu was taken aback. "You can play the guitar?"
He waved to the side, and a young instructor ran over, carrying a wooden guitar and a microphone, which he had borrowed from somewhere.
Song Huan took it. The guitar was old, the strings were a bit rusty, but it was still usable.
He sat in the chair, placed the guitar on his lap, put his fingers on the strings, and tested the sound.
The pitch wasn't quite right, so he tugged at the tuning pegs and adjusted it a few times.
The whole class looked at him quietly.
Zhao Qihang sat in the front row, hugging his knees, watching Song Huan's actions, and pursed his lips.
His family is wealthy. He learned guitar for two years in elementary school with a proper private tutor, and each lesson cost several hundred yuan.
Although I haven't played for a long time, I still have a keen eye for watching others play the piano.
Song Huan's tuning movements were very clumsy, clearly indicating that he was not a professionally trained musician.
"Is he any good?" Zhao Qihang asked the person next to him in a low voice.
Lu Ciyuan didn't speak, and took his finger away from his mouth.
Chen Xu looked up at the figure in the middle holding a guitar and muttered, "He's brave enough to go up there. I certainly wouldn't dare."
Zhao Qihang fell silent.
The girls' side was quite lively.
Feng Nian sat in the first row, her hands resting on her knees, looking at Song Huan with a smile on her face.
The girl next to her leaned over and whispered, "He's so brave. Nobody else dares to go up."
Another girl nodded, "And she's not bad looking either, tall and fair-skinned."
"He just doesn't like talking to girls, he only chats with his cousin all day," someone added.
Feng Nian didn't reply, but just looked at the person in the middle.
The moonlight shone on him, making his military training uniform shine.
He lowered his head to adjust the sound, his expression serious, and a hint of nervousness occasionally flashed across his handsome face.
Xiao Yunqing sat in the crowd, hugging her knees, staring at him.
He tuned the strings very slowly, plucking the strings once with his fingers, turning the tuning pegs, and then plucking them again.
His movements were a bit rusty, as if he hadn't touched it in a long time.
She suddenly remembered that she had never heard him play the guitar before, nor had she ever heard him say that he could play the guitar.
When did he learn that? Was he just trying to make other girls happy?
Xiao Yunqing sensed a hint of danger.
Instructor Xu stood to the side, watching him adjust the pose for a long time, and muttered under his breath, "Is this kid any good?"
Song Huan heard this and her hand trembled slightly.
The strings emitted a muffled sound, somewhat discordant.
He took a deep breath; his heart was racing.
It's been a long time since I played this; the last time was in a past life.
Back then, the rented room was only 10 square meters. The guitar was bought on Taobao for 300 yuan, and the sound quality was terrible.
He taught himself for a year, and his fingers developed calluses, but it still hurt when he pressed the strings.
The reason I learned to play guitar was simple: I didn't have the money to take Lin Yue to Jay Chou's concert, and I wanted to give her a surprise on her birthday.
Later, I learned how to play it for her, and she cried for a long time.
Later, the guitar was smashed and thrown into a trash can called "love" along with many other things in the rented room.
Song Huan sat in the chair, her fingers resting on the strings, her heart still pounding.
He looked up and glanced into the crowd.
Xiao Yunqing sat there, hugging her knees, looking at him.
There was no scrutiny like Zhao Qihang's, no sizing up like the girls; they were just looking at him.
The eyes were bright, and the moonlight shone into them, making them look like they were filled with water.
Her inner thoughts drifted over, unlike those miscellaneous guesses; they were soft and steady.
You can do it.
You can do anything.
Just by listening, Song Huan knew who these thoughts came from, and most of her tension dissipated.
He lowered his head, plucked the strings with his fingers, and found the key.
Then he stood up, holding his guitar, and bowed to the whole class.
"Hello everyone, my name is Song Huan. Next, I'll be performing a guitar and vocal piece for you. I hope you enjoy it."
Regardless of what they were thinking just now, everyone applauded at this moment.
Applause erupted from the edge of the circle, spreading out in a continuous burst.
Xiao Yunqing clapped her hands especially hard, making a loud slapping sound. The boy next to her was startled and turned to look at her.
She realized what was happening, blushed, and put her hands down, clutching the pant legs above her knees.
Song Huan sat down, placed her fingers on the strings, took a breath, and began to play.
When the intro started, the playground fell silent.
The melody is simple, with a few chords going around in circles. He didn't play it very smoothly, pausing for a moment in the middle, but quickly got back on track.
The sound came from the violin case, muffled, with a hint of wood.
"We lost contact, and I only heard about his life after that from other people."
His voice came through the microphone, low and a little hoarse.
It's not the voice of a professional singer, but there's something indescribable about it.
Like wood sanded with sandpaper, rough, but warm to the touch.
"What's wrong with you? How are you coping? The one who can't let go is me."
Zhao Qihang, who was sitting in the front row and had initially been there to watch the excitement, changed his expression upon hearing this.
He had studied guitar and knew that his skill level wasn't very good; there was noise when shifting positions, and the rhythm wasn't steady enough.
But he couldn't sing out what was in that voice.
Seeing you sad, I didn't say a word to try and keep you.
"You'll let go with a smile, promising not to cry as you leave~"
When Song Huan played the chorus, her fingers moved smoothly.
Chord transitions are no longer choppy, and the rhythm is steady.
His eyes were closed, his head was slightly lowered, and the wisps of hair on his forehead hung down, fluttering in the wind.
The moonlight shone on his face, casting shadows from his brow bone onto his eyelids.
He recalled his past life.
The rented room is ten square meters, and the guitar was bought on Taobao.
She sat on the edge of the bed listening to him play. After he finished one piece, she said she would play another.
She played another song, and then said she'd play one more.
She cried when she played the fourth song, saying it was the best birthday gift she had ever received.
Later, the guitar was smashed against the wall, the neck broke, the strings snapped out, and it lay curled on the ground.
On the day of the breakup, he stood at the door, wearing a designated driver's vest, the reflective strips gleaming coldly white under the fluorescent lights.
She was clearly crying, but he didn't say anything and just turned and left.
He never touched a guitar again after that.
……
That year during the Spring Festival, he vowed to give Lin Yue a home and brought her back to Jiangcheng.
On the train, Lin Yue leaned on his shoulder and asked him if his parents would dislike her.
He said no, you're so great, how could they not like you?
Lin Yue smiled, a very happy smile, her eyes shining.
When they arrived at their doorstep, Song Huan pushed open the door, took Lin Yue's hand, and walked inside.
Zhang Xuejuan was busy in the kitchen when she heard the noise and peeked out.
Song Wentao was sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper when he put it down.
"Dad, Mom, this is Lin Yue, my girlfriend." Song Huan stood in the middle of the living room, holding Lin Yue's hand, and introduced her with a smile.
Lin Yue was wearing a white sweater, her hair was down, and she had light makeup on, making her look clean and neat.
She bowed slightly and said in a sweet voice, "Hello, Uncle. Hello, Aunt."
Zhang Xuejuan came out of the kitchen, wiped her hands on her apron, and looked Lin Yue up and down.
She is fair-skinned, beautiful, and has a delicate appearance.
She smiled and said, "Okay, okay, please sit down."
Song Wentao nodded without saying anything, but smiled slightly, and everything seemed fine.
During the meal, Zhang Xuejuan served food to Lin Yue and asked her where she worked and how many people were in her family.
Lin Yue lowered her head and said in a soft voice, "I work in Nanjiang."
Zhang Xuejuan placed another piece of pork rib in her bowl. "What do your parents do?"
Lin Yue stopped eating.
She didn't look up, staring at the rice in her bowl, and remained silent for a few seconds.
Song Huan tried to smooth things over, saying, "Mom, why are you asking so many questions? Let her eat in peace."
Zhang Xuejuan smiled and said, "I was just asking casually."
Song Wentao put down his chopsticks and leaned back in his chair.
He looked at Lin Yue with a scrutinizing gaze, unlike Zhang Xuejuan's casual look, as if he were looking at a document.
He spoke, his voice not loud, but every word carried weight: "What kind of work are you doing now?"
Song Huan frowned slightly.
He could tell that Song Wentao's tone was off.
Lin Yue lowered her head, her fingers gripping the chopsticks tightly.
Song Huan couldn't hold back any longer, "Dad, I brought this person back to make you happy, not to have you check my household registration."
Song Wentao didn't look at him, but stared at Lin Yue.
Lin Yue put down her chopsticks.
She looked up at Song Wentao and Zhang Xuejuan, her eyes reddening, but she didn't cry.
Her voice trembled, but she spoke each word clearly, "Uncle, Aunt, I like Song Huan, and I want to marry him. So, I won't hide it from you."
She paused, took a deep breath, and said, "My home is in Jingnan. My father... has been to prison. My mother is in poor health and has mental problems. My family's circumstances are very bad."
Zhang Xuejuan's smile froze on her face.
Song Wentao's brows furrowed even deeper.
Song Huan sat beside him without saying a word, her hands clenched into fists under the table.
Lin Yue continued, her voice trailing off, "I'm currently working as a waitress at a restaurant in Nanjiang. Before..."
She paused, her lips trembling, "I used to work in nightclubs."
When the last two words were spoken, the restaurant fell silent.
The chopsticks didn't move, the bowl didn't make a sound, and even the breathing became soft.
Song Wentao's face changed from white to red, and then from red to green.
He looked at Lin Yue as if she were a stranger.
The nightclub girl? Song Wentao's son found a nightclub girl?
If this gets out, I'll probably become the laughingstock of the whole city!
Lin Yue stood up, bowed deeply, and apologized profusely, "Uncle, I'm sorry. I was ignorant before and went astray. But I really like Song Huan, and I've never lied to him. I hope you can give me a chance..."
Song Huan quickly added, "Dad, Lin Yue is a good girl."
Song Wentao slammed his hand on the table.
"That's enough!"
The sound exploded in the restaurant, shaking the bowls and chopsticks.
Lin Yue's body trembled, and her face turned pale.
Song Wentao stood up, his chest heaving, and pointed at Lin Yue, his finger trembling.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He glanced at Song Huan, then at Lin Yue, turned around, and left.
The study door slammed shut with a loud bang.
Zhang Xuejuan sat in the chair, head down, looking at the dishes on the table, without touching them.
Song Huan looked at her, waiting for her to speak.
She didn't say anything.
Song Huan stood up, sliding her chair back a little, and said in a shrill voice, "Mom, say something."
Zhang Xuejuan still didn't look up.
Song Huan's voice rose, "Say something!"
Zhang Xuejuan shook her head.
The movement was very light, as if it hadn't been shaken at all.
Song Huan's face turned pale.
He turned around and looked at Lin Yue.
Lin Yue stood there, head down, shoulders trembling, tears falling onto the table in a soft, rhythmic patter.
Looking at the closed door of Song Wentao's study, Song Huan sneered, "Song Wentao, you're something else!"
Song Huan took Lin Yue's hand. "Come on, let's go back to our own home."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Lin Yue was still apologizing through tears.
Song Wentao's voice came from the study, through the door.
"If you walk out this door, don't come back."
Song Huan's hand stopped on the doorknob.
"Heh, do you really think I want to step into Minister Song Wentao's house?"
He stood there for two seconds, then opened the door and led Lin Yue out.
That year, we didn't get to celebrate the New Year.
Song Huan took Lin Yue back to Nanjiang.
He worked tirelessly, working a day job, driving for hire at night, and taking on private jobs on weekends.
I sleep less than five hours a day, my eyes are bloodshot, and my face has become thinner.
Lin Yue felt sorry for him and said, "Don't run anymore, let's take it slow."
Song Huan smiled and said it was okay, she was young and could handle it.
Lin Yue cried.
Song Huan reached out and wiped away her tears.
"Why are you crying? It's not like we can't afford to support you. We're going to get married, we definitely will!"
One day, he left work early.
I pushed open the door to the rented room, but no one was inside.
Lin Yue hadn't finished get off work yet, but there were two more people there.
A middle-aged woman sat on the bed, with permed hair, bright red nail polish, and wearing a tight-fitting dress.
A middle-aged man stood by the window, tall and thin, with sunken eyes, wearing a wrinkled shirt with the cuffs rolled up.
Zhao He and Lin Suo are Lin Yue's parents.
Zhao He looked him up and down, then said in a casual tone, "You're Song Huan? Yueyue's..."
Song Huan nodded. "Hello, Auntie. Hello, Uncle."
Lin Suo turned around, glanced at him, said nothing, took out a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it.
Song Huan stood at the door, unsure whether to go in or back out.
Zhao He stood up. "Let's go out for a meal."
Lin Suo found a high-end hotel nearby, booked a private room, and ordered dishes.
As for the expenses, Song Huan naturally bore them.
The food was expensive. Song Huan glanced at the menu and did a quick mental calculation: this meal cost him two months' salary.
Lin Suo ordered another bottle of Moutai and two bottles of Wuliangye. The waiter noted them down and left.
Song Huan sat in the chair, her palms sweating.
Lin Suo leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, and looked at him. "I heard you're working in Nanjiang?"
Song Huan nodded.
How much does it cost per month?
Song Huan gave a number.
Lin Su smiled briefly, as if he hadn't smiled at all.
"What can you do with that little bit of money in Nanjiang?"
Song Huan didn't say anything.
Zhao He picked up some food from the side of him, eating very slowly, chewing each bite for a long time.
The dishes are all served.
Song Huan stood up, raised her glass, and said, "Uncle, Aunt, I'd like to toast you."
Lin Suo didn't touch the cup, just looked at him.
"What do you have to offer to marry my daughter?"
Song Huan's hand froze in mid-air.
"Can you afford a bride price of 880,000 yuan?"
Song Huan gritted her teeth. "Uncle, give me a little more time. I..."
Lin Su waved his hand and called out towards the door, "Waiter, bring two more bottles of baijiu."
The waiter quickly brought it over and placed it on the table.
Lin Suo pointed to the two bottles of baijiu.
"If you finish drinking this, I'll consider it."
Song Huan looked at the two bottles of liquor, her throat tightening.
He picked up a bottle, unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and took a swig.
It's spicy, burning from my throat all the way to my stomach.
He took another sip.
Lin Suo and Zhao He ate and chatted as if nothing was wrong, as if no one was around.
By the time Song Huan finished the second bottle, her face had turned pale, her forehead was covered in sweat, and her hands were trembling.
He gritted his teeth and poured himself another glass.
At that moment, the door was pushed open.
Lin Yue rushed in, her hair disheveled, her face flushed, and she was panting.
She spotted Song Huan immediately.
He stood by the table, holding a wine glass in his hand, his face pale and his forehead covered in sweat.
The two bottles of liquor next to it were already half empty.
Her tears welled up immediately.
She walked over, took the wine glass from Song Huan's hand, and placed it on the table.
She turned around and looked at Lin Suo and Zhao He. Her voice was trembling, but very loud.
"Didn't you know he has a bad stomach and can't drink alcohol!"
Lin Yue gritted her teeth, like an enraged leopard.
"Why aren't you feeding him? Why?!"
Lin Suo put down his chopsticks, looked at her, and said, "Why are you yelling? We're doing this for your own good..."
Lin Yue didn't let him finish, "For my own good? When have you ever done anything for my own good?"
She pointed at Song Huan, "To save money, he works during the day and drives a ride-hailing service at night, sleeping less than five hours a day. And what about you? You order such expensive food here and let him drink so much alcohol. Is this for my own good?"
Zhao He put down her chopsticks, looked at Lin Yue, her lips moved but she didn't say anything.
Lin Suo's face darkened, and he stood up. "You think you're all grown up now?"
Lin Yue ignored him, turned around, and took Song Huan's hand.
"Walk."
Song Huan stumbled as she was pulled along, her stomach churning, and she almost vomited.
Lin Yue helped him out of the private room, walked down the corridor, and out of the hotel.
A cold wind blew in, and Song Huan bent over and vomited.
Lin Yue squatted down next to him, patting his back with one hand and wiping away his tears with the other.
She cried so hard she couldn't speak.
After Song Huan finished vomiting, she straightened up and looked at her.
He smiled and reached out to wipe away the tears on her face.
"It's nothing, why are you crying?"
Lin Yue grasped his hand tightly.
The streetlights shone on the two people, their shadows trailing on the ground, leaning against each other.
It snowed in Nanjiang tonight, a light, drizzling snowflake that landed on my hair and melted quickly.
……
"She started avoiding the phone and never talked to me. She's not used to living alone."
His voice started to tremble, not from nervousness, but from something else.
Instructor Xu stood to the side, stunned, watching him sing and play the guitar with his eyes closed.
Isn't No. 1 Middle School known for its strict discipline? Aren't they supposed to punish students who date early?
But this kid's expression, his voice, and that tremor—it's clear he's genuinely emotional.
Instructor Xu took a step back so as not to block his light.
"After leaving me, you told me to live a good life, because you didn't want to disturb my desire for freedom."
When Song Huan played this part, his fingers paused on the strings for a moment.
He wasn't just thinking about Lin Yue.
There is another person.
With her hair tied in a ponytail, she stood next to him from age three to fifteen, saving him a seat and wiping the blackboard for him.
They got separated in their past life; they didn't go to the same university after graduating from high school.
He later heard people talk about her, saying that she had passed the postgraduate entrance exam and gotten into a very good university in the United States, and went to a very far place.
He sat in the rented room listening and said, "Oh, that's good."
And then that was it.
He desperately tried to explain, "It's not my fault, it's that you wanted to leave."
"I saw you were sad, but I didn't say anything to try and keep you here."
"You'll let go with a smile, promising not to cry as you leave."
……
"How long did it take to feel heartache?"
"How much time has passed?"
"Still looking for reasons to wait for me."
After the last line was sung, the piano music stopped.
The string was still vibrating slightly, and the lingering sound floated in the air for a second or two before dissipating.
Song Huan opened his eyes and found that the whole class was staring at him in a daze.
Not only the students from Class 8, but also students from Classes 7, 9, and 10 nearby, stopped their performances and turned to look this way.
The playground was silent for three seconds.
Then applause erupted like a bomb.
Starting from Class 8, the clapping spread to both sides, followed by Classes 7, 9, and 10. Even the instructors in the distance clapped a few times.
Some people shouted "That sounds good!", some shouted "Awesome!", and some whistled.
Zhao Qihang sat in the front row, clapped twice, and then stopped.
He looked at the person in the middle holding the guitar, his mouth moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't.
He studied guitar for two years with a proper private tutor, and each lesson cost several hundred yuan.
But he never played on stage.
Lu Ciyuan took his hand away from his mouth, patted it twice, and then put it back to chew on it.
Chen Xu raised his head and looked at Song Huan, his eyes holding an indescribable light.
The girls' side was even more lively. Feng Nian clapped her hands, smiling, but her eyes were a little red.
The girl next to her leaned over and said, "He sings so well, it's so beautiful."
Another girl nodded, "And he looks so handsome with his eyes closed."
"Why does he usually never talk?"
"Maybe that's just their personality."
Feng Nian didn't speak, but just looked at the person in the middle.
He was standing up, returning the guitar to the instructor.
The movement was a bit clumsy; when I put the guitar back, it bumped against the body and made a "thud".
He scratched his head, looking a little embarrassed.
Xiao Yunqing sat in the crowd, her hands no longer clapping.
She hugged her knees and watched him walk back.
The moonlight followed behind him, dragging his shadow on the ground.
He walked over to her and sat down.
"How is it?" he asked softly, the tension on his face gone.
Xiao Yunqing didn't look at him, but stared at the open space in front of her.
Two seconds later, a voice escaped from the corner of his mouth, "It's alright."
"It's alright?"
"It's...pretty nice." The voice became even softer, like a mosquito's hum.
Song Huan smiled.
He had already heard the little girl's true feelings, even though what she said was very sweet.
He leaned against the lawn, looking up at the sky.
The moon was very round, hanging directly above the playground, making the clouds appear white.
There weren't many stars, just scattered about, as if someone had casually scattered a handful.
Xiao Yunqing sat next to him, hugging her knees, and also looked up at the sky.
After watching for a while, he suddenly whispered, "Song Huan."
"Um?"
"What's the name of the song you just sang?"
"Oh, it's called 'Don't Cry,' and I'm singing it for you."
"Was it sung for me?"
"Yeah, otherwise you'd be crying all the time."
"You're the one who's crying!"
Song Huan smiled, not looking at the girl's annoyance. The wind blew from the playground, carrying the scent of grass.
Xiao Yunqing glared at him, then asked, "What were you thinking when you sang this song?"
He thought for a moment, then said, "Let's think about some things from the past."
"Do you know anything about what happened before?"
"It was a long, long time ago..."
Xiao Yunqing didn't press further, but lowered her head and drew circles on her knee with her fingers.
After a while, her innermost thoughts drifted over, very softly, as if afraid of being overheard.
[When he sang that song, it seemed like there was someone in his heart.]
Who is it?
Song Huan heard this but did not reply.
He lay on the lawn, his hands behind his head, looking at the moon.
The person next to him sat quietly with their knees drawn up to their chest.
The moonlight cast their shadows on the ground, leaning together.
Someone shouted "One more song!" from afar, the voice coming from Class 9.
Instructor Xu, standing in the middle, smiled, a rare occurrence for him. "Alright, alright, everyone's finished singing. Who's next?"
No one answered.
Someone whispered, "Let Song Huan sing another song."
Instructor Xu ignored him, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "Nobody here? Then let's proceed with training as normal..."
"Instructor!" Someone stood up again, this time it was Zhao Qihang.
The whole class looked at him. Zhao Qihang stood up, patted the grass off his bottom, and said, "I'll sing a song too."
Instructor Xu nodded. "Okay."
Zhao Qihang walked to the middle and took the guitar.
He played "Peninsula Iron Box," a piece with much more complex chords than the one Song Huan had just played. His shifts were smooth, and his rhythm was steady, clearly indicating that he had practiced it.
She sings quite well too; her voice is brighter than Song Huan's, and she can hit the high notes.
After the song was finished, the whole class applauded.
The applause was quite loud, but it was different from the applause we had just heard.
The applause just now was explosive, it came from the bottom of my heart.
The applause was polite, so courteous it sounded like saying "Not bad, not bad."
Zhao Qihang walked back and sat down.
Lu Ciyuan, standing nearby, remarked, "You sang quite well."
Zhao Qihang hummed in response but didn't say anything.
He glanced at Song Huan lying next to him. Song Huan had her eyes closed, as if listening to the wind.
Zhao Qihang withdrew his gaze and stared at the open space in front of him.
Chen Xu huddled in the corner, secretly glancing at Song Huan, then at Zhao Qihang, before lowering his head and remaining silent.
The wind blew from the playground, scattering the singing and applause.
The moon was still hanging in the sky, very round and bright.
In the circle of Class 8, some people started chatting, some played around, and some dozed off on the shoulders of the people next to them.
Xiao Yunqing was still sitting next to Song Huan, hugging her knees.
She glanced down at him; his eyes were closed, and his breathing was very light.
She reached out to touch his hair, but pulled her hand back halfway through.
Turn back and stare at the moon.
She couldn't help but smile, feeling that this evening of military training was wonderful.
……
On the other side, Song Huan also opened her eyes and looked at the moon.
Who on the riverside sees the moon for the first time, and when does the river moon shine on people?
Lin Yue, your name clearly contains the word "happiness," so why do your eyes look like they're raining when you smile?
You have never been happy, yet you call it happiness.
Do you know that when you cry, even your own name feels sorry for you?