Quick Wear: The paranoid beauty grabs the waist and spoils her

"Congratulations to the master for completing another small world. The situation was so complicated, but the master was able to handle it. Applause, applause, applause!"

As soon as Nan Xiang left the small world and returned to the system space, she saw a curly-haired white ball twisting, spinning, jumping and clapping like a dragon.

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly, "Juan, the pile of study materials Mo Yi gave you are very useful. You should improve yourself."

This sentence stopped the crazy excitement of Tuanzi, and the corners of his mouth turned down. His big blue eyes looked at Nanxiang with pleading:

"Master, I don't want to study~"

Mo Yi is Heavenly Dao No. 93, which is the Heavenly Dao of the small world that Nan Xiang just ended.

According to convention, after the small world ends, Nan Xiang and Chun Juan will go to the small world's Tian Dao to grab the wool. After grabbing more than ten times, these Tian Daos will consciously put the things neatly and wait for collection.

This time, No. 93 Tiandao Mo Yi was very sensible. Although he was a bit stubborn and dull like a scholar, he accidentally caused trouble for his curly-haired white ball. Nan Xiang was still very happy to watch this fun.

Nan Xiang casually rubbed the curly-haired white dumpling and began to coax and fool the dumpling:

"When you finish your studies, you will be the most cultured system in the Spacetime Administration. Doesn't Chun Juan want to be the most cultured system to be admired by other small systems?"

Chun Juan thought what his master said made sense, so he nodded and agreed with a smile: "Okay, Master! Chun Juan will try his best to finish reading it!"

"Well, it's great that our Juan works hard to study!"

Feeling the gentle force on his head, Chun Juan did not find anything unusual, but said solemnly and excitedly:

"Master, wait for my good news!"

After that, in order to avoid wasting time on studying, Chunjuan threw Nanxiang into the fourteenth small world when he entered the closed-door study.

Nan Xiang felt the power of the time tunnel and knew that she had entered her seventh life. She felt helpless and amused.

Chun Juan, who was studying in the system space, opened the first book Mo Yi gave her, "A Complete Collection of Ancient Chinese Characters in the Three Thousand Worlds."

It tapped lightly with its paw, and dense fluorescent blue text symbols appeared on the white paper of the book, which made it feel overwhelmed. For a moment, it forgot to tell its owner about the special situation of the 14th small world in advance.

You can only work hard to achieve financial freedom for the pie that Nan Xiang has drawn and become the envy of all systems.

……

***

At the Nancheng Lantern Festival Gala, the atmosphere, which had been somewhat quiet and depressing due to the influence of the previous song, was ignited by the last singer to appear.

Qiao Sheng, who had been sitting in her seat feeling a little sleepy, woke up immediately after hearing the cheers from the audience. She pulled her best friend to stand up, her face flushed a little, and pointed at the man on the stage wearing a black riveted leather jacket and dyed silver hair and said:

"Xiangxiang, look! This is the Song Yuchen, the King of Song that I told you about, the music king who came from the millennium, the youngest creative and all-round king of Chinese music!"

Nan Xiang felt the enthusiasm of the audience around her. A faint blue light flashed from the cochlear implant. Her lips curled up slightly, and she looked in the direction of Qiao Sheng's finger with a calm gaze. Sure enough, she saw a handsome and wild man standing in the middle of the stage. He lowered his head with his hands on the standing microphone.

As soon as a gentle and low voice was heard, the restless fans at the scene immediately sat back in their seats as if they had pressed the pause button, quietly waving their glow sticks and holding up their cheering signs, listening attentively to their own superstar brother singing.

As the youngest superstar in the Chinese music scene, Song Yuchen is extremely talented and has first-rate creative abilities. However, his emotional intelligence is really worrying. He is known for his sharp tongue and his love of arguing with people, and he is often on the hot searches every other day.

Fans all dislike their idol, but who can blame their idol for being handsome and singing so well? They can only tolerate his sharp tongue and dislike him internally. They also hope that their idol can be a dumb handsome guy, and just recover when singing. They should still protect him to the outside world, opponents, haters and unscrupulous media.

This is their quality as a "blood orange".

Song Yuchen does not indulge his own "funny" fans. He criticizes them when necessary, protects them from outside, and is considerate. Often when fans are moved and want to be sentimental, Song Yuchen will do something to ruin the atmosphere.

Therefore, Song Yuchen’s fans, the Blood Oranges, and Song Yuchen share the same “disease”.

Nan Xiang looked at her best friend holding up a cheering sign. Her oval face was flushed, making the blood orange earrings on her earlobes look even more gorgeous and clear as water.

Nan Xiang thought secretly in her heart, tightly grasping a light grey accessory with a kitten pattern in her palm. The kitten was surrounded by a faint blue light, which looked soft but not abrupt in this lively place.

Nan Xiang listened to Song Yuchen's singing. Suddenly, a look of surprise and deep thought appeared in her eyes. She stroked the kitten recorder in her hand with her fingers and smiled faintly. Finally, she heard Song Yuchen's gentle and charming but slightly hoarse bass again:

"Neon burns into shackles on the retina

Whose silhouette is reflected in the concrete forest?

The second hand gnaws at the faded promise

I'm waiting for a bullet to shatter the silence

...Friends, shake yourselves, I'll give you a song called "Windbreaker", run towards freedom, and face the light without compromise!"

As he said this, Song Yuchen stretched out his left hand and raised it above his head to make a rock gesture, and with his other hand he took down the microphone, and the originally soothing and low R&B immediately became high-pitched.

Nan Xiang was initially fascinated by Song Yuchen's bass, then fell in love with his high notes and completely fell in love with this song.

She listened attentively, a faint blue light flashed in her cochlea, and her originally tranquil expression gradually became excited as the crowd became more and more engaged. She waved her cheering stick while listening to the high notes.

"It burned into the ashes of wildfire (wildfire)

Dancing barefoot in the eye of the hurricane (Dancing)"

The high-pitched and clear voice collides with the angry voice that becomes stronger when faced with a stronger force, and coupled with the band's wonderful performance, the surrounding fans are so excited that their faces turn red and they are extremely excited.

The sound was so loud that it seemed like it might blow the roof off. But don't worry, this is the real world after all, there is no such thing as supernatural power.

Song Yuchen's song is like a surging sea under the moonlight at night, and his gentleness is just an illusion but it gives meaning to that moment.

"All the rules are broken into stardust to pave the way

I breathe the concentration of rebellion

When the strings cut the throat of dawn (Dawn)

Rewriting the fate with roar (prelude)

Freedom is a wound that never heals

In the pulse, eternally flowing

There is another high note with great penetrating power, accompanied by a lingering harmony, carrying the ambition for freedom, bound to break through the sky, unstoppable.

Nan Xiang could feel her blood boiling. Her ambition for freedom and her attitude towards life were like a sunflower facing the sun, chasing the light from sunrise to sunset and never giving up.

"Song Yuchen! Song Yuchen! Song Yuchen——"

Nan Xiang saw many people standing up again and screaming loudly. It was very inspiring. Nan Xiang felt that this experience was both strange and familiar. She was deeply moved and experienced a little bit of the joy of chasing stars.

The sound waves erupting in the venue penetrated the cochlear implant and turned into fine electric currents that vibrated the eardrums.

Ji Nanxiang looked up at the man in the center of the stage. The rivets on his black leather jacket reflected the spotlight. His fingers holding the microphone were clearly knuckles, and the stars were hidden in the shadow of his single eyelids.

Qiao Sheng's popular science was still in his ears, but Ji Nanxiang had already roughly grasped Song Yuchen's external image over the years: he was handsome and sang well, but he had a big mouth and attacked everything indiscriminately.

Nan Xiang sighed, lowered her eyes, and her mind was blank for a moment.

Suddenly, at the moment when the subwoofer resonated in his chest cavity, Ji Nanxiang subconsciously pressed the device behind his ear.

Song Yuchen's singing voice was like a tempered blade that cut through the noise. When the high notes tore through the night sky, she suddenly understood why Qiao Sheng always said that the blood oranges were willing to drown in this voice.

When the show was over, Qiao Sheng was still gesticulating excitedly: "Did you feel the floor vibrate just now? The drum beats in the chorus are just about to blow the roof off!"

She suddenly leaned close to the sound port of Ji Nanxiang's cochlear implant and said, "Honestly, when you write the male protagonist of your new book, you can change the male protagonist's character and find something new. For example, you can refer to Song Yuchen, who is so arrogant and proud..."

Ji Nanxiang smiled slightly, speaking slowly, with a slightly exaggerated mouth shape, but her voice was gentle with the laziness that is unique to Maine Coons in winter: "Go on."

Qiao Sheng nodded to show her understanding: "My good buddy Xiangxiang who will always support me (*＾3＾)/～☆"

Ji Nanxiang smiled and typed on the memo: [Thank you]

After a ten-second pause, her fingertips continued to quickly move across the 26 keys on the phone: [Of course I am learning his art of confronting people].

Qiao Sheng came over to look at Nan Xiang's phone, thought for a moment, nodded to Nan Xiang to show his understanding, and then quietly used sign language to gesture: "Come on!"

Nan Xiang nodded, smiled and replied to Qiao Sheng with a "come on" in sign language.

Then she looked at the encyclopedia about Song Yuchen on her phone, paused for a few seconds, and quickly scanned it before eating.

Later, I saw that the phone interface was stuck on Song Yuchen’s microblog account. The latest update was a photo of a piano score with the caption "Some people deserve a chicken drumstick from the sound engineer" - a screenshot of which had just been taken by a marketing account and became a hot topic half an hour ago.

The warmth of the milk tea shop wrapped in the aroma of brown sugar hit me. Qiao Sheng suddenly stopped looking for his keys:

"It's over! I forgot the cheering flashlight at my seat!"

She grasped Ji Nanxiang's fingertips and wrote "wait for me" on the wall of the cup. The hem of her windbreaker swept the cold wind and she disappeared around the corner.

Ji Nanxiang held the hot cocoa and retreated to the glass window. The mist on the mirror surface created mottled neon lights.

Under her light brown traditional Chinese style winter skirt, she walked back and forth along the steps to kill time, Nan Xiang was waiting for Qiao Sheng to come back.

On the other side, when dusk enveloped the South City TV station in a sea of ​​​​glass lights, Song Yuchen, the King of Song Dynasty, whom Qiao Sheng and Nan Xiang had talked about earlier, was using audio editing software to give his agent Li Man some ghostly sound effects.

The man's sarcastic lips were reflected in the makeup mirror, and his bony fingers made scratching sounds on the iPad:

"How about this rant being cut into the new album's intro? It's guaranteed to give music critics a collective migraine."

"Song! Yu! Chen!"

Li Man rushed into the lounge wearing 10cm high heels, her Chanel jacket stained with ribbon crumbs.

"Didn't you agree not to argue with the reporter today? The editor-in-chief of Music Weekly is going to remove your cover now!"

The spotlight cast a shadow on the man's single eyelids. He picked up his riveted leather jacket and threw it over his shoulder:

"Then I wish them a special issue called "On the Million-dollar Annual Salary of Sound Engineers" in the next issue - remember to use the part where you just broke your voice as the background music."

After Li Man went crazy, he said with a faint sense of death: "Okay, ancestor, you are the king of heaven, please watch your mouth."

Song Yuchen looked innocent and replied calmly: "The mouth is for speaking, Sister Man, my mouth is always online."

Li Man rubbed her eyebrows and stared at Song Yuchen expressionlessly.

Assistant Xiao Hu was huddled in a corner holding a hand warmer when he was suddenly called out:

"Tonight's celebration banquet..."

"Do you think I'm holding a memorial service at my funeral home?"

Song Yuchen grabbed the lozenge on the table and threw it over.

"Twelve media outlets are squatting in the parking lot. Why don't you wear my cheering uniform and go out for a walk?"

Li Man's temples were throbbing. She turned around and pressed the Bluetooth headset: "Attention, security team, Teacher Song is going to... Song Yuchen!"

Before he finished speaking, Song Yuchen had already changed his clothes, wearing a black windbreaker, and disappeared into the fire escape.

At this moment, in the milk tea shop three blocks away, Ji Nanxiang was staring at the mist on the glass window in a daze.

The orange smiley face that Qiao Sheng had drawn before leaving was melting, and the neon lights cast spots of light on her skirt through the ice-cracked glass.

The cochlear implant suddenly captured the sound of chaotic footsteps, mixed with the sounds of shutter clicks coming from far away.

"It's Song Yuchen!"

The moment the scream exploded, Ji Nanxiang was suddenly pulled into someone's arms. The scent of cedar mixed with mint hit her face, and the black sheepskin gloves pressed against her wrist pulse:

"Excuse me."

The sound was too much like the high note that tore through the clouds in "The Wind Breaker" and Ji Nanxiang subconsciously grabbed the other person's sleeve.

The collar of the man's windbreaker brushed across her nose, revealing the blood orange pattern embroidered on the lining - exactly the same as the one on Qiao Sheng's earrings.

"let go!"

The girl who was chasing him knocked over the tables and chairs with her SLR camera.

Song Yuchen suddenly put Ji Nanxiang's beret on his head, and the brown wool made his eyebrows and eyes look even more fierce.

He whispered behind the girl's ear:

"On the count of three, run west."

The warm air flow brushed across the cochlear implant, causing Ji Nanxiang to shudder slightly on the back of his neck.

When the seventh shutter sounded, she suddenly dragged the man into the fire escape, her movements so familiar as if she had practiced it thousands of times.

In the red light of the emergency exit, Song Yuchen raised his eyebrows and looked at this daring girl.

She was standing on tiptoe to retrieve her hat from her head, and her traditional Chinese skirt swept across his leather boots that were soaked with snow.

The strangest thing is that she was silent throughout the whole process, but was able to accurately avoid all obstacles, as if she had an innate radar.

"Are you not afraid that I will sell you to the fans in exchange for headlines?"

He deliberately lowered his voice, creating a murderous tone that music critics called "Satan's whisper."

Ji Nanxiang lit up the memo on his phone: [You wrote the key of E flat as D in the third bar of your piano score]

The light blue finger marks were still on the provocative Weibo picture that Song Yuchen posted this morning.

The man's pupils suddenly contracted.

Even the arranger I had worked with for ten years didn't notice the deliberately wrong chord.

"You..." He reached out to take off the other person's mask, but was surprised by the cold metal touch - the cochlear implant behind the girl's ear was flashing blue light.

Qiao Sheng's anxious call came from a distance, and Ji Nanxiang suddenly stuffed the warm milk tea into his palm.

In the sweet aroma of hazelnut cocoa, she quickly drew on the wall of the cup with her fingertips:

Song Yuchen looked at the figure disappearing in the crowd and suddenly noticed small gold-plated words printed on the inside of the milk tea cup cover - Nancheng Special Education Foundation Lantern Festival charity sale items.

At three o'clock in the morning, the nanny car drove across the river bridge.

Li Man glared at the ancestor who was composing music through the rearview mirror: "You'd better explain what's going on with the surveillance in the milk tea shop."

Song Yuchen was playing with a silver USB flash drive. On his right ring finger was a ring with a light grey kitten pattern on it. The edge of the kitten emitted a little blue light. It was the recorder that the girl dropped when she ran away.

There were strange sound pattern fluctuations coming from the noise-cancelling headphones, like moonlight filtered through electronic equipment.

“Sampling new songs.”

He put away the kitten recorder and scanned the sunflower pattern on the cup cover into the music arrangement software. "The name is... "Deaf Ears Listening to the Sea"."