People in Tokyo, the world is clear

Occasionally, when our eyes meet, he would immediately look away nervously, pretending not to know me.

If there were bystanders who knew the three people present, they would indeed be confused by the current situation.

But as the warm wind blew through the cherry trees overhead, bringing with it the fragrance of falling pink petals, the recess bell vibrated the teaching building beside him.

The flow of people on both sides of the brick sidewalk suddenly became dense - there were students chewing on breakfast and carrying books to rush to the second class in the morning, and there were also groups of people chatting and laughing as they walked leisurely back to the dormitory after class.

The counter-current of people startled the ponytailed girl across the street. With her vision obscured by the constantly moving legs and bodies, she put down her sheet music, put down her guitar, and then moved out a table hidden behind her, like a stop-motion animation.

So Lin Sen also stood up with Miss Ito.

"Don't forget," he casually said, and the young man started walking, blending into the crowd of people moving in different directions with those around him. "Try your best to pretend that you don't know Qingshan well. This time, we'll be the sting."

Chapter 52 Young souls also resonate

"She seems to be planning to sing."

On the way home from class, Yamei heard her roommate say this.

A feeling of curiosity similar to her companion's emerged in her heart, and she looked towards the place diagonally in front of her.

A young woman who had just moved out the table under everyone's gaze sat down, picked up the piano and said nothing, just lowered her head and began to pluck the strings.

A simple and crisp prelude sounded, and it sounded like an unfamiliar song.

"Street singer?"

"seems like it."

Yamei's next class is in the afternoon, so she has nothing to do now.

I walked closer with my roommates who were also interested and joined the few listeners.

"There's a flyer on the table."

My companion handed me a piece of beautifully printed paper.

Yamei lowered her head and quickly identified the information on it.

"Blue Coconut..."

Have not heard.

I wasn't really interested at first, but the sound of the guitar next to my ears was unexpectedly catchy.

It's a very strange style. Most popular music these days has a slow, leisurely tune, but this song seems to have a strange sense of acceleration.

Limited by the current era, it is difficult for Yamei to define what this popular style of folk music that only appeared in later generations is like.

But the high receptivity of young people immediately ignited their appreciation for such a relaxing style of music.

My legs unconsciously stopped in place and I began to listen.

"It's kind of like a folk song... but it's not right."

Her companions expressed their opinions in her ears, and Yamei nodded slightly in agreement.

In fact, young people are no longer very accepting of folk music.

Perhaps it stems from the natural resistance of new life to old things. Some city-born children cannot resonate with the deep sense of home in folk songs, and even dislike the overly relaxed tunes, finding them old-fashioned.

But the music played by the musicians before me was a little different. It was a stark departure from the current pop music of electric guitars, drums, and wind instruments. It was closer to old folk music, yet with a fresh, old-fashioned feel—quite unique.

If I have to use an analogy, it's like an old item being soaked in clean water and then taken out again.

Out of curiosity, Yamei looked up and stared straight at the performer.

She was a very refreshing sister. She played guitar very well, wore a rather neutral jacket, and had a few beautiful bracelets on her wrists.

The legs in jeans swayed slowly and rhythmically to the music.

An outfit that makes people feel particularly friendly.

She didn't seem much older than him. From the self-introduction printed on the flyer, she was a Tokyo transplant from Hyōgo Prefecture who loved music and played it in her spare time.

I didn’t make it to university, so I wanted to experience the atmosphere of a higher education institution and fulfill a dream I had as a student.

"what."

The distance between our hearts suddenly felt closer, and a strange sense of anticipation gradually emerged.

Then, under the gaze of the college students, a few pink petals floated and slowly fell on the shoulders of the female singer.

Under her feet was the warm morning sunlight and the shadows of cherry tree branches swaying in the wind. In a trance, it was like the flowing, sparkling water, shining with dazzling colors.

Then, in the wind, she raised the corners of her mouth and spoke slowly.

"Crossing the viaduct, I caught a glimpse of the blue through the gaps in the clouds..."

"I've been feeling a bit hot lately, so I'm just waiting for a breeze..."

Ah!

Unexpectedly, it was a simple yet pleasant voice, like a sister two years older than oneself holding one's hand and strolling around the campus, raising her hand to gently pick up a fallen cherry blossom, and beginning to tell the story bit by bit.

Yamei saw out of the corner of her eye that her roommate was putting his hands together, and he also looked surprised and amazed.

In an instant, I was addicted.

Even during the chorus where the guitar music suddenly became more intense, I subconsciously clasped my hands together and put my fists against my chest.

"Flowers are falling, and we seem to have forgotten even to breathe."

"Wouldn't even blink..."

——He reacted just as the lyrics said.

It was not until a flying cherry blossom slowly swayed and fell in front of her eyes like a flying boat, gently touching the tip of her nose, that the female college student suddenly woke up.

Only then did I realize that the music had stopped, leaving only the faint sound of a guitar coiled around the tree trunk, humming dimly.

A man and a woman appeared on the wooden table in front of the bench.

They seemed to be tourists who came to the school to enjoy the cherry blossoms.

The short-haired girl held the table with both hands, her eyes fixed on a notebook on it.

The man next to her had a serious look on his face, writing something on the table.

The singer stared at the two people in front of her with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Suddenly, she covered her mouth and lowered her head, trying to stifle a laugh.

What is this, doing?

Yamei's doubts were soon answered.

After the man and woman in front of her left together, she was immediately pulled to the table by her excited roommate.

"Hello! You sing so beautifully!"

The female singer who was being greeted seemed surprised by the students' enthusiasm. Then, a cute smile that was nervous, a little socially anxious, but also a little happy appeared on her face.

"Thank you! If you like them, please leave a comment. I'll take them with me to my next place."

Comment?

Yamei's gaze then fell on the notebook beneath her that had just been written on.

The companion next to him had already started flipping through the book and studying it.

The cover has the words "Spring Thief" printed on it, which seems to be the name of the song.

The first few pages were likely handwritten lyrics, the neat handwriting corresponding to the content of the song.

But when he turned the page again, the content in front of him immediately caught the young man's attention.

Listening to this song, I have strange thoughts. If I die at eighty, I'll only be able to see the cherry blossoms fifty or so times. It's a lonely thing to think about. —Matsushita]

"How many times can I finally see spring?" Listening to these lyrics, I can't help but feel melancholy. I'm not really enjoying my current life, but life is short, and I greedily want to keep her by my side forever. If only time could stop for thirty years. — Takahashi.

It looks like these are words left by previous listeners?

I suddenly realized that my roommate had already read all the comments and reached the last page. He rubbed his hands, picked up the pen handed to him by the female singer in front of him, and wrote a few words.

"Yami, it's your turn!"

"it is good."

The female college student carefully took the pen and replaced her roommate's previous position.

What caught my eye seemed to be the rumors left by the man who had just left.

[As time flows on and on, the wind steals the cherry blossoms from the trees, and you steal my spring. Is this what a spring thief means? —Ito.]

"what..."

That sounds so romantic.

But Yamei was just an ordinary economics student. Although she loved reading and had tried to think of some interesting sentences, she just couldn't seem to find the right words to write down.

In the end, I could only smile in relief and clench the pen in my hand slightly.

[It sounds great. —Yami]

After giving up the seat behind her, the female college student was surprised to find that there was a small group of more than ten people lined up behind her.

Everyone has a desire to share.

Maybe you are not interested in the song itself, but you are eager to leave some words and let this street singer who suddenly visits you take them to another unknown place far away - just thinking about it is something that makes people yearn for it.

The students in the ivory tower present seemed unable to resist such beautiful things.

This sister is really special.

Yamei looked up at the smiling female singer behind the table. She sat in her chair and bowed slightly, her body radiating overflowing joy and happiness.

very nice...

The female college student couldn't help but lower her head and study the exquisite poster in her hand again.

Pull out the beautiful gold-embossed card that comes with it.

"It's Qingshan, Summer Solstice."

"Prepare to hold a free concert?"

"The next address is..."

Chapter 53 Memories are always about rain

"So, will it really work?"

In a family restaurant that serves cheap and delicious food, the girl gently bit into the fried egg she picked up, swallowed the sweet half-cooked yolk, and then looked over curiously.

"Of course. But, buddy, this idea is indeed a bit ahead of its time, and it may not achieve the desired publicity effect."

After all, it is a concept that has only become popular in the era of the Internet.

Nowadays, it is indeed difficult for many people to imagine the interactive way of listeners leaving messages for a song.

Even Ms. Ito, who was sitting opposite me, was a little skeptical.

The half-believing and half-doubting expression is silly and stupid.

In the end, he propped up his chin, pursed his lips lazily and leaned towards the window.

"However, no matter what, for Qingshan, receiving comments from others is really a very happy thing."

That’s not wrong.

I can still vividly remember how Miss Qingshan carefully held the notebook tightly in her arms when we parted.

The hypocrisy inherent in Japanese society is often deeply detestable, but under certain circumstances it can be used as an advantage.

For example, in the absence of the Internet's high wall to cover up the consequences and responsibilities of wantonly releasing malice, people who leave comments write beautiful and heartwarming words.

For Qingshan, who has always struggled with negative reviews and disgust, nothing can bring more strength than these words.

The curve of her lips when she hugged Miss Ito goodbye also proved this.

"So I've always believed that being strong isn't just about going against the tide and never giving up in the face of adversity. Not everyone is that strong, and no one can always hold back tears. But if you're smart enough, you can exploit human weaknesses and transform potential malice into something that can help you move forward. This is the wisdom of dealing with things."

"Seniors are always good at saying strange and profound things."

"I'm still trying to establish a good image in front of a cute kid like Ito."