After Mao Buyi read every one of them carefully, he couldn't help but sigh: "You have written quite a lot." ”

"That's nature. Yan Lin replied.

Without this hard work, he didn't know that he was so wasted.

These are all written by Yan Lin in different time periods, and he is full of confidence before every time he starts writing, and he has the illusion of "this time it will definitely work".

But without exception, every time the emperor failed to start a business and the middle way collapsed.

Mao Buyi picked two that he had feelings, to be precise, it seemed that he could still salvage them, and then asked Yan Lin to take back the others.

"Let's take these two as examples. ”

Yan Lin hurriedly leaned his head over, just like listening to the teacher's lecture when he was studying, and listened seriously.

Mao Buyi was silent for a moment, as if he was organizing language.

"It's not hard to see from your creations that you're trying to convey a sad emotion. ”

Yan Lin nodded.

It is said that the young man does not know the taste of sorrow, and in order to write about sorrow, he was really sad at that time.

A person is abroad, hidden by the company, the contract is far away, in order not to worry his parents, he didn't dare to mention it, and he silently endured everything.

Sad!

Seeing that he didn't refute, Mao Buyi continued: "Although the work you wrote is full of sadness, you don't have a good entry point, it looks scattered, and there is no way to cohesive. ”

"One of the characteristics of prose in literature is that the form is scattered but the spirit is not dispersed, and the same is true for writing songs.

But halfway through your work, God is gone, so you can't write it. ”

As he spoke, he drew in circles on the manuscript paper, and his attitude was very serious.

Yan Lin also knew that this was a good opportunity for him, and when he didn't understand, he asked him, and Mao Buyi answered him patiently.

"In fact, you don't need to write some words that look high-level, words are for the purpose of expressing emotions, and if you can't express yourself, no matter how gorgeous the words are, they will be in vain. ”

Yan Lin was a little embarrassed, he did often use some words that seemed lofty when he was creating.

People have this mentality, just like playing a game, no matter what the technology is, the skin has to look good.

The two have been exchanging and discussing, from words to music, from content to style.

The night was getting deeper, although he was particularly reluctant, but because he had to record the show the next day, Yan Lin was too embarrassed to bother anymore, so he could only get up and say goodbye.

Before leaving, he also deliberately glanced at Mao Buyi, his eyes full of greed.

This kind of man should be hung on his thigh.

With the help of Mao Buyi, Yan Lin also knew the general direction.

Back in his room, he didn't rest, and fought at night.

"Who painted the starry sky and forgot about the moon. Who is stained with loneliness, painted with melancholy. ”

This is the beginning he wrote at the beginning, and he is very satisfied with it, which is the only thing that Mao Buyi agrees with.

But these two sentences are like consuming all his brain cells, and what is written later always has a feeling of anticlimactic.

Now after Mao Buyi's mention, he seems to have been opened up to the second pulse of Ren Du, and he wrote.

"Warm sigh for the passing years, the paper is short and long, the cold shines on the heart, and the night breeze sings solo. ”

“......”

He kept revising and revising, and he also forgot the time, and while writing and returning to the guitar accompaniment, he hummed softly.

"Look at yesterday's story yellowing, where are the old people, if the thoughts are echoed, the sky is full of stars.

Although the future is sad, despite the imitation, if the ordinary people have no dreams, how can they know that the flute is melodious. ”

At first, he felt that since he was trying to express sorrow, the whole text would be full of sorrow.

However, Mao Buyi told him that the whole article was too pessimistic, and the appearance of smiling with tears was the most distressing.

After thinking about it seriously, Yan Lin felt that what he said made a lot of sense, and then revised it.

"Although the future is sad, despite the imitation, if the ordinary people have no dreams, how can they know that the flute is melodious. ”

Although I am very confused now and cannot see the hope of the future, I still have to stick to my dreams, because people without dreams are no different from salted fish, and I don't know the melodious sound of the flute.

When the whole song was written in its entirety, Yan Lin read it over and over again, and felt the urge to cry.

It's so rare, this is the Nezha in the history of music.

Nezha's mother has only been pregnant with him for three years, and for this reason, his father has also practiced the unicorn arm, which is strong enough to be able to tota.

It's been two years since he started brewing this song.

Although Yan Lin also knows that this song may be a little different from that of other singers, who still thinks his child is ugly when he is a father?

It's enough to be your own.

Putting down the guitar and pen in his hand, Yan Lin realized that the sky didn't know when it would be light.

After looking at the time, it was already past six o'clock, he carefully put away the manuscript paper, and then hurried to make up for an early nap.

In the training hall, all the students gathered, and Song Qian asked strangely: "Why hasn't Yan Lin come yet, isn't he usually the earliest every time?"

Now that the recording time is almost up, everyone has arrived, and Yan Lin is missing, which makes her very strange.

The most punctual person is Yan Lin.

"He must be catching up on sleep, he slept late last night. Mao Buyi guessed.

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone looked at him.

Mao Buyi was startled and said, "What do you see me doing." ”

Huang Zai Tao said with a wicked smile: "How do you know so clearly, what you did last night." ”

Everyone else looked at him strangely.

Mao Buyi was stunned, what kind of people are these, this can be crooked.

He hurriedly explained: "Why are you all like this, Yan Lin went to me last night to ask me about writing songs, we discussed it together for a long time, and he didn't go back until after twelve o'clock, and after he went back, I vaguely heard the sound of a guitar in his room, and he should have slept very late." ”

Said Cao Cao, Cao Cao arrived, and while they were talking, Yan Lin hurriedly came.

"Sorry for being late. Yan Lin said embarrassedly, he was still a little out of breath because he ran too fast.

He was really embarrassed, he just wanted to squint for a while, but who would have thought that he would die of sleep, and he didn't even hear the director's phone.

If someone hadn't called him, he would still be asleep.

"Done?" Before the others could speak, Mao Buyi suddenly asked.

As soon as he heard Mao Buyi mention this, Yan Lin nodded excitedly and said: "It's done, thank you really Teacher Mao, if it weren't for your advice, I wouldn't have been able to write this poem "A City" so quickly." ”

After some careful consideration, Yan Lin finally decided to name the song a city, expressing a lonely city and telling his story leisurely.