(Ask for a recommendation vote! The name of the book is going to be changed, pay attention to the officials, the editor asked me to change it, otherwise I can't find my book on the www.biquge.info of the Biqu Pavilion, and I will inform you tomorrow if I change the title of the book)

The sound of the flute lasted for about half a tea time, and the end of the song ended.

But the sound of the flute in the breeze seems to be still nostalgic for this lush bamboo forest, unwilling to leave, and the aftermath lingers, endlessly.

The people in the morning exercise came to their senses for a long time, and there was a hint of amazement in a trance, and they were still a little reluctant to end the song of the flute, and they wanted to listen to it ten or eight times again before they were willing.

It's like a normal time, and suddenly you hear a good song and want to listen to it on a loop for a long time. This kind of feeling, like a loss in the dark, suddenly stirred your heart ripples, and after losing, you are stunned.

During the morning exercise, the people who came back to their senses, after listening to the sound of the flute, seemed to be in high spirits, and they were not interested in continuing to exercise, and they all sounded where the sound of the flute came from.

"What kind of tune is this? It's so good, but I've never heard it!" Grandma Sun looked at the bamboo forest with a puzzled expression, where the sound of the flute came from, with a puzzled and surprised look.

"I haven't heard it either, but it sounds a little familiar, like "Guangling San", but it is better than "Guangling San" in terms of momentum!" Old man Murong (Mrs. Sun's wife) had a hint of flushing on his thin face, looking in the direction where the sound of the flute came from, with a look of doubt and surprise. He didn't know how many times he played and sang "Guangling San" back and forth, but he had already carved it into his bones, so he was naturally very familiar with its rhyme.

"Is it the song created by an old man in the bamboo garden based on Guangling San?" said Mrs. Sun with a look of surprise when she heard her wife's words.

"No matter, I'll go to those old men and ask, maybe Old Man Cai has a new song, this old guy usually likes to play flutes and other instruments. Old man Murong anxiously trotted into the bamboo forest and shouted.

"Old man, slow down, why are you excited if your legs and feet are not good!" Mrs. Sun looked at her wife in a hurry, and reluctantly greeted her, and followed, for fear that the old man would fall on the road in excitement, after all, he was nearly ancient. He also knew that the old man of his family loved music like his life, so he felt helpless.

Because the bamboo garden is inhabited by some teachers from the opera department, this morning, many people are inquiring about the tunes played by the flute in the early morning and the people who blow the flute. In the end, the result of the investigation was that I didn't see anyone, and I had never heard the song, only the sound of the flute seemed to come from the four buildings of the bamboo garden.

Old Man Murong and Old Madam Sun, who heard this result, were shocked when they heard it, they were talking about their own house. But all the people in my house came out for morning exercises.

"I don't seem to see the young man surnamed Ye come out for morning exercise today?" Old Madam Sun whispered to her wife suspiciously.

"It seems to be. Old man Murong nodded thoughtfully, as if he had thought of something, and his face was a little strange.

Old Madam Sun stopped talking, and even she didn't believe what she was thinking.

At this time, several old men and old ladies were gathered around to discuss the song played by Xiao Sheng just now.

"Old man Ren, did your little grandson hear it wrong, Old Murong and Mrs. Sun are here, how could the sound of the flute come from his room!" said a bald old man wearing a Tang costume with short sleeves and holding a chubby bald boy next to him.

"Grandpa Cai, Fat Dun'er heard it right, my grandmother and I both heard it, it came from there, it sounds very good!" The fat boy who the old man was holding was five or six years old, and he said to the old man in Tang costume with a snort, pointing to the house where Mrs. Sun lived in the distance.

As soon as the fat boy spoke, a group of old fellows laughed.

"Fat Dun'er is not wrong, it is Grandpa Cai who is wrong, haha. The old man in Tang costume laughed, and the rough old hand rubbed the fat boy's fleshy face.

"Hey, old man Murong, is it the new tenant of your family? Is it your new disciple? That Zhao Wenyu is also your disciple, he is practicing early in the morning every morning, and he is also a good seedling who is diligent. The old man in Tang costume casually asked the old man Murong who looked a little strange on the side, and he didn't forget to nod Zhao Wenyu, but he didn't notice the look on the old man's face.

"No, a bookwriter! That young man went running as usual in the morning, and besides, old man Cai, you are confused, that song is considered by those of us who have been immersed in this art for many years. A young man who writes a book can create something that can't be beaten by eight poles. Old man Murong dealt with it a little absent-mindedly. As for the last half of the sentence, he learned from his wife that Ye Chen was a book writer

Mrs. Sun glanced at her wife with understanding and did not speak.

Next, several old men chatted for more than a dozen minutes and did not discuss any useful news, thinking about whether a teacher or classmate in the courtyard was playing the flute in the bamboo forest in the morning, and asked each other to pay attention to each other in the future, so they dispersed.

After dispersing, Old Man Murong hurriedly walked in the direction of home, his face full of strangeness and doubt.

"What are you in a hurry, people won't leave!" Mrs. Sun took her grandson and looked at her husband who was speeding up.

"Could it be that the song Xiaole was really blown by that young man? Otherwise, how could he usually ask Wenyu some questions related to your composition? Why is a person who writes a book asking this?" The old man Murong was a little unconvinced, but he wanted to believe it in his heart, the tangled look on his face was unobstructed, and he even frowned with a series of questions.

"I asked the lad and he said he wrote books. Later, he asked me about my doubts about composing music, and I asked him again, and he said that he needed to write a book, so I didn't ask much. Old Madam Sun said a word, and said uncertainly: "Maybe we are thinking too much, maybe it is a student in the academy who plays the flute near the bamboo forest! Besides, the people who can compose this kind of music are some young men with profound skills!"

Mrs. Sun didn't finish half a sentence, and then stopped continuing.

"Go back and ask that young man, go, go!" Old man Murong wanted to know the answer, a person who has been immersed in opera all his life, and his paranoia about a good song can be understood.

Soon, Mr. and Mrs. Sun returned to the house with the bear child, and the bear child who returned home cheered, let go of Mrs. Sun's hand and shouted a few times as if she was happy, and rushed to the TV, while the couple went straight to Ye Chen's room.

"Knock knock", after the old man Murong coughed twice, he knocked on the door, and there was an inexplicable nervousness and anticipation in his mood, this feeling had not appeared for a long time.

At this time, Ye Chen was sitting at a desk near the window, with a thick leather book on the table and some white paper. There were some notes marked on the white paper, and Ye Chen was using a pencil to draw and modify on the white paper.

Because Ye Chen was upset just now, he used the bamboo flute he bought to blow the flute part of the song "Smiling Proud Jianghu" (the song "Smiling Proud Jianghu" is an ensemble of piano and flute, divided into piano and flute songs).

After blowing, the mood was naturally happy, and at the same time, I found that the music was still different and imperfect in some places imprinted in my head, so I continued to revise the score in the spirit of excellence.

Hearing the knock on the door, Ye Chen was still puzzled, not knowing that his happy song had caused a small commotion.

Getting up to open the door, Ye Chen couldn't help but be stunned when he saw Old Sun and his wife standing at the door.

"Old man Murong, Grandma Sun, are you two looking for me?"

"Young man, remember your name is Ye Chen, right?" Old Man Murong was a little nervous when he saw Ye Chen open the door, rubbed his hands, stared at Ye Chen with a pair of eyes, and asked such a sentence.

"Yes!" Ye Chen was also stunned by the old man's question, and then responded. However, it was the first time he had seen such an expression and action of Old Man Murong, and his heart was happy.

"Was it you who gave the just now?" the old man then suddenly asked.

When Ye Chen heard this, he was stunned for a few seconds, then showed a look of surprise, and then his face became strange.

"Old man, can you change the word?" Ye Chen complained in his heart, sounding a little awkward to the words "".

However, having said that, he didn't realize whether his could be heard by others before, and it was completely to vent his frustration and recklessness.

But it's not a big deal, you hear it when you hear it, and I originally composed my own music so that others could listen to it. Ye Chen thought about it, knew it in his heart, nodded after being stunned for a few seconds, and smiled faintly:

"Yes, I blew it!"