Yang Yi's request came out of nowhere. The old man looked at the bronze, sinewy muscles on Yang Yi's arm with a strange expression.
A guy like this could play the guitar?
An incongruous image of a cow chewing on a peony popped into the old man's mind...
"Uh, you can give it a try." Hu Songnan nodded with considerable grace, not refusing out of prejudice.
Yang Yi took down the guitar, sat casually on the chair across from the old man, rested the guitar on his right leg, and gently plucked the strings to test the sound.
"Woo..." A deep, rich bass note resonated clearly through the guitar's body.
Yang Yi's ears twitched slightly, and his expression shifted to surprise. He then tested a few more notes.
"Professor Hu, this guitar of yours is no ordinary instrument!" Yang Yi finally looked up, a hint of astonishment in his voice.
Hu Songnan was taken aback. Trembling, he pointed to a beetle-like engraving at the tail of the guitar's body and asked incredulously, "You don't recognize this mark?"
"Is it supposed to be some famous brand?" Yang Yi examined it closely but still shook his head.
Of course, he didn't recognize it. The musical instrument brands from his past life didn't exist in this world, and as for this life's brands? Come on, his predecessor had barely studied and had no musical sense—how could he possibly know?
The old man nearly rolled his eyes, sighing heavily to suppress his frustration.
"Brown Beetle, a classic guitar from an old German factory, limited edition from 1970!" Hu Songnan huffed, his beard bristling as he explained. "I went through a lot of trouble to buy it from a merchant!"
Well, judging by Hu Songnan's description, it sounded impressive—like the Steinway of guitars!
But Yang Yi had only ever enjoyed playing folk guitar in his past life, so he didn't have a deep appreciation for what made classical guitar, hailed as one of the world's three great instruments, so special.
Besides, compared to the guitar, Yang Yi preferred the violin—that was his true love: a glass of red wine, a lit candle, playing the violin alone, shadows dancing in pairs...
He was getting off track. Yang Yi noncommittally began his performance.
As the fragmented guitar strings wove into a low, melodious prelude, Hu Songnan, who had been watching Yang Yi with curiosity, furrowed his brow slightly.
This melody?
He hadn't heard it before, which wasn't unusual since Hu Songnan taught classical music and might not be familiar with every pop song.
But Yang Yi's playing already gave him a different feeling.
It was beautiful, smooth—not the work of some amateur!
The old man leaned forward slightly, listening intently.
The faintly melancholic melody continued for over ten seconds, gradually setting the stage. Yang Yi lightly plucked the strings and began to sing.
"I came to your city, Walking the path you once took..."
Yes, it was Eason's "Long Time No See," a song Yang Yi loved in his past life!
Of course, Yang Yi's voice couldn't match Eason's ability to maintain an ethereal, magnetic quality even when low.
But Yang Yi's vocal texture wasn't bad. His low notes were rich, carrying an inexplicable influence that spread the melancholic emotion through the listener's heart.
"Imagining the days without me, How lonely you would be..."
The melody started off plain, but the old man listened intently.
Finally, the song's emotion erupted in a small burst.
"Holding the photo you gave me, That familiar street, But without your image, We can't go back to that day..."
Yang Yi sang with deep emotion, unconsciously channeling the original Yang Yi's complex feelings toward Mo Fei.
But he didn't notice that the old man across from him trembled slightly.
The line "But without your image" seemed to flip open a cherished memory for the old man.
"Would you suddenly appear, At the corner coffee shop, I'd greet you with a smile, exchange pleasantries, And sit and chat with you..."
Yang Yi finally sang the origin of his coffee shop's name, but it didn't catch the old man's attention.
The lyrics, striking him at moments, and the melody, so sorrowful it seemed to dye the air blue, left the old man's eyes moist.
Through the blur, he seemed to see his wife, before the still-unwithered flowerbed, lifting her head, tremblingly waving and smiling at him.
"How I wish to see you, See how you've changed, No longer talking about the past, just small talk, Saying to you, just saying, Long time no see..."
In his past life, Yang Yi didn't understand love, and neither did this life's predecessor. But somehow, as he sang this song, his mind was filled with Mo Fei's silhouette.
And somehow, he sang with such surging emotion, especially the second time, that he nearly burst into tears himself, almost unable to pull himself out.
Damn it, he didn't want to say "long time no see" to anyone!
If anyone, Xi Xi barely counted, but even that wasn't enough to stir such emotion!
Bastard, why had he become so sentimental?
Yang Yi lowered his head, eyes closed, still plucking the strings to finish the lingering outro, while inwardly cursing himself.
When he looked up, he saw the old man frantically rubbing his eyes, trying to compose himself.
Unlike Yang Yi, who quickly regained his composure after the emotional wave, the old man couldn't hide his sadness so easily. But he was also proud, perhaps because as a teacher, he was used to maintaining his dignity.
"Ahem!" Hu Songnan glanced at Yang Yi awkwardly, his voice slightly hoarse from the lingering emotion. "Young friend, this song of yours is heartfelt, with simple yet profound melodies and plain but deep lyrics. Why hasn't it been released before?"
The old man was changing the subject, afraid Yang Yi would expose his vulnerability.
Yang Yi saw through it but didn't call him out, simply following the old man's lead. "Because I haven't planned to yet. This song is for my first love—too many negative emotions..."
By "first love," Yang Yi meant Mo Fei, of course. Though it was an excuse, the original Yang Yi clearly had feelings for Mo Fei despite his resentment, so saying it was for her wasn't wrong.
But Mo Fei's identity was special. Yang Yi felt calling her a girlfriend or wife was inappropriate, and ex-wife was even more off. "First love" seemed the best fit.
At least, including his past life, Mo Fei was the first woman Yang Yi had ever loved!
But the old man wasn't satisfied with Yang Yi. He huffed, beard bristling, "How can you call that negative emotion? That's deep affection! How can you belittle your love for someone you care about?"
"From this song, I can tell you still have strong feelings for your first love. Even if you keep saying it's just small talk, just 'long time no see,' ask yourself honestly: don't you still hope she'll come back, that you can start over?"
Under Yang Yi's stunned expression, the old man scolded him relentlessly, from his view of love to the song's lyrics and hidden emotions, without pause for half an hour!
The old man's intention was to encourage Yang Yi to pursue his past love without regrets.
But Yang Yi could only nod with a wry smile.
What love story? This so-called first love was probably just unrequited. He had made up the lie and had to stick with it.
Unexpectedly, Yang Yi's "obedient" demeanor won the old man's approval.
"I've decided to rent you my house." The old man patted Yang Yi's shoulder with some sadness. "But promise me, you'll take good care of it."
Hu Songnan's eyes dimmed with reluctance but also held clear determination.
Yang Yi didn't know that his song had once shaken the old man's decision to leave.
But in the end, the old man came to terms with it: his wife wasn't gone; she was just watching from afar, waiting for their reunion after his passing.
Perhaps Yang Yi's appearance was part of her unseen arrangement?
She still wanted him to enjoy a happy old age with their children and grandchildren.
So, he would entrust this young man, chosen by his wife, to care for this little building that held so many memories.
Eight years. Long time no see...
How many more years until they meet again? Perhaps, not long now...