Entertainment: A song that brought his deceased wife back to life.

The large screen in the studio lit up again.

Following that somewhat amusing yet poignant group photo of shadows, a video file icon appeared.

The filename remains simple: 【Slowly】.

Xu Qing nodded to the staff backstage.

Click the mouse cursor.

The image flickered briefly before filling the entire giant LED screen.

This is a handheld shooting perspective.

The camera was shaking so badly that it was clear the photographer wasn't a professional; even their hands were trembling.

The background is a vast expanse of white snow.

It looks very similar to that small, old park in Linhai City.

The heavy snow fell and turned into blurry water stains on the lens.

In the center of the picture, a young man is sitting on a bench.

It was Xu Qing from three years ago.

He looked a bit fleshier back then, with a youthful air about him that hadn't yet been tempered by life.

But he was dressed very lightly.

A thin black jacket, the collar open, revealing a gray sweater underneath.

He was holding the guitar with a "little fish" sticker on it.

The guitar was old and worn, its strings stretched taut in the cold wind.

What's most striking is Xu Qing's hands.

Those hands, red from the cold, with even some purple at the knuckles, were stiffly pressed onto the strings.

He would stop every now and then, breathe hot air into his hands, rub them together, and then continue pressing down.

At this moment, a voice-over narration began.

It was a girl's voice.

Was the voice processed by a voice changer?

not at all.

Because of a cold and wearing a thick mask, his voice sounded muffled, with a slightly soft, nasal tone.

"Stupid Xu Qing."

The girl's voice echoed throughout the studio.

"Playing the piano outside in this freezing weather, don't you want to keep your hands?"

Her tone was full of that coquettishness—wanting to be angry but unable to bear it.

Xu Qing in the video looked up.

Because the camera was shooting from above, his face appeared somewhat large, making him look rather simple and honest.

He grinned at the camera, revealing two rows of bright white teeth.

A cloud of white mist spewed out of his mouth.

"Your hand is alright."

Xu Qing smiled as she spoke, her eyes curving into a bridge.

"I just finished practicing this song, the chords are still fresh in my mind."

"You said you're going on a long trip for medical treatment, but I don't know how long you'll be gone."

"I must sing this for you before you leave."

"This is a song I wrote for you, it's one of a kind in the whole world."

After finishing her speech in the video, Xu Qing wiped away the snot that had come out of her nose from the cold, looking somewhat embarrassed.

He cleared his throat and ran his fingers across the strings.

"Listen up, this is a sweet song I wrote especially for you."

"If I didn't sing well, it's because of the weather, not because I'm bad at it."

The girl in the voice-over chuckled softly.

"Okay, hurry up and sing, then go home and drink ginger soup."

"Too verbose."

Xu Qing muttered something in the video.

The sound of a guitar began.

The intro is light and cheerful, with a warm feeling like the winter afternoon sun shining on the snow.

however.

Just as the guitar sound started in the video.

On stage, Xu Qing, who stood in the spotlight and exuded a sense of dejection, also moved.

He raised his hand and strummed the guitar in his arms.

The exact same melody.

The exact same fingering.

The spirited young man on the screen and the silent, sorrowful man on the stage overlapped at this moment.

This is a ensemble performance spanning three years.

"The book always describes the delightful evenings."

Xu Qing spoke in the video.

Her voice was clear and bright, full of the sweetness and longing unique to people in love.

"The bicycle he was riding, and his conversation with her."

Xu Qing, who was on stage, also spoke.

His voice was hoarse and deep, conveying a sense of weariness after experiencing many hardships.

The two voices intertwined.

One is singing about the future.

One is commemorating the past.

"The boy loved to see the girl in her white dress."

"So many scenes, so many of them are romantic."

"Many people are heartbroken; it's better to part amicably."

"It would take many days to finish watching it."

Backstage control room.

Wang Gang dropped the cigarette he had just lit onto his pants.

Ignoring the heat, he frantically patted the burn, his eyes glued to the monitor.

"This word..."

Wang Gang is a rough man who doesn't understand music theory.

But he can understand human speech.

These lyrics are so damn delicate.

There are no fancy words, just plain language.

But these very plain words, when put together, create a chemical reaction called "regret".

"I just kissed you, you liked it, right?"

"Otherwise, why would you keep holding my hand and not let go?"

When this lyric is sung.

Several girls in the audience covered their mouths.

It is too sweet.

If you don't know the backstory, this is definitely a sweet song that will make you want to fall in love.

But now.

Watching the perspective of the girl who has "passed away" on the big screen.

I watched the boy shivering in the snow trying to cheer up his girlfriend.

The phrase "I just kissed you" was like a sharp knife, piercing straight into the hearts of everyone present.

There were no more kisses.

They never held hands again.

The girl who was taking pictures with her phone has turned into a handful of dust.

"You said you really wanted to take me back to your hometown."

"Green tiles and red bricks, willow trees and moss."

"The past and the present are the same."

Cloud Top Heavenly Palace Villa.

Luo Qianyu huddled in the corner of the sofa.

The expensive bag of potato chips in her hand had been crushed into powder.

Her vision was completely blurred.

Tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the leather sofa and leaving dark water stains.

"Fool……"

Luo Qianyu cried until she couldn't breathe.

She remembers that day.

That was in January three years ago.

That was the first time she received a notice from the company about intensive training, and that she would be sent to South Korea for six months of closed-door, grueling training.

That was a crucial period in her career.

Her agent confiscated her phone and ordered her to cut off all contact with the outside world.

She couldn't explain it to Xu Qing.

She didn't dare say that she wanted to become a big star.

She was afraid that Xu Qing would think she was unrealistic, and even more afraid that Xu Qing would feel inferior and leave because of the difference in their social status.

So she lied.

She said her condition had worsened and she needed to go to a sterile ward abroad for treatment, where she couldn't use her phone or meet people.

She ran away that night.

Before leaving, Xu Qing sent her a message saying he had something to give her.

She held up her phone and recorded this song in that run-down park.

At that time, she only thought it sounded nice and sighed that Xu Qing was truly talented.

She was even secretly delighted, thinking that once she became a big star, she would definitely buy the song and make it her hit single.

But now.

Listening to that hoarse voice on TV.

Luo Qianyu suddenly realized how much carefully hidden love Xu Qing had for her was in this song.

Green tiles and red bricks.

Moss on the willow tree.

That's what Xu Qing's hometown looks like.

He had genuinely considered bringing that girl, who was "seriously ill" and "ugly-looking," home.

He genuinely considered marrying her.

"Waaaaah..."

Luo Qianyu buried her face in the pillow and let out suppressed sobs.

"I'm not dead..."

"I'm really not dead..."

"Xu Qing, you big idiot, why didn't you forget about me too?!"