When Xingzhe arrived at Piaoxiang Courtyard, he happened to catch up with Piaoxiang's talented girl playing the piano and singing, and it seemed that she should be practicing a new song. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

"When is the spring flower and autumn moon, how much do you know about the past~"

Luo Rong sang while playing the piano, and her singing voice was euphemistic and beautiful, but she was the same and conformist.

Luo Rong heard the footsteps, raised her head and saw that it was Xingzhe.

"Childe, you're here. ”

"Miss Rong'er sings very well, but there are still a little problems. ”

"Does Childe understand music too?"

"A little bit of it, a little bit of it. ”

"Great, can that boy know about Rong'er? Rong'er always feels like she can't sing a good song during this time. ”

Xingzhe pretended to ponder, since he pretended to be forced, he had to pretend to the end.

"Miss Rong'er, do you feel that many songs are actually similar, and the lyrics are very similar?"

"Yes, Childe immediately saw the problem, it's amazing. ”

Xingzhe is very proud, you only have a few word brand names, one of them is written, and there is no shortage of thousands of similar ones, after all, plagiarism is such a thing, there are all ages.

"Well, I'll write you a song, and then you try to compose your own music and play your own melody. ”

"Is Rong'er really okay?"

"Don't worry, no problem. ”

Luo Rong went into the house and brought a pen, ink, paper and inkstone to Xingzhe, although Xingzhe is not very accustomed to using it, but now his handwriting has the level of a primary school student, and he is no longer crooked.

Xingzhe spread the paper on the table, picked up the pen and waved, without the slightest pause, and began to write quickly.

Suddenly, Xingzhe stopped writing, and Luo Rong was about to step forward to see what Xingzhe had written, but Xingzhe crumpled the paper into a ball.

"I was just trying to see if I could write with a brush, but now I'm starting to write. ”

Looking at Xingzhe's somewhat silly smile, Luo Rong couldn't help but laugh along, laughter is really contagious.

After all, Xingzhe is a liberal arts student, and it is not difficult for him to write poems and lyrics, but it also takes some time.

First of all, there must be a picture, Xingzhe thought of the general and the battlefield, because Yu Gui had been harassing him for the past two days, and he didn't return to the capital until two days ago, so his mind was now full of turtle major generals.

It's definitely not enough to just write about war, not to mention that the audience who listens to the song is both men and women, Luo Rong herself is a woman, she definitely hasn't experienced the battlefield battle, or love is the most suitable for her.

Then it's decided, write a song about recruiting people to gallop on the battlefield and beautiful women to stay alone in the empty house.

Xingzhe lifted the pen, as if he could really see the scene of lovers in front of him, the battle never ended, and the general could only look at the moon every night and miss his wife at home.

The same is true of the beauties, each of whom looks to the north and prays for her husband's blessing, hoping that he will return triumphantly as soon as possible.

(The following is all original.,It's so tired that I'm tired.,If you don't think it's written well.,Don't spray me.,Thank you.] ）

The cold rain knocked down the moonlight like ink, the rouge blurred my face like blood, the peony flowers were scattered, the fragrance of tears, and the oil-paper umbrella tilted slightly, supporting my heart.

The old wounds on his body are still hot, the heart is pierced into the coldness of the broken sword, the blood is crying and the intestines are sad, the clothes are dyed red, the gold and jade bottles are scattered, and the drunken dreams are dying.

The dust is lightly covered, the carving is hidden, and in the cold night, the slight candlelight is shaking. The years of jackdaw crow, the beauty returns to the empty house, where is he entangled in green silk.

The sleeves are flying, the sword shadow and sword light, and the shouts and neighs echo on the battlefield of Xiao Killing. He was thin and old, and his fine iron armor was cold. Thinking about her day and night, whether she is sad.

I will play a song on the piano for you, and tell your mood with the sound of the piano. Provocative, plucking the emotional strings in the heart, who can hear the voiceover clearly.

I poured ink and pen for you, leaving marks on rice paper. The ink inkstone pen depicts the memories, and those things have never been forgotten.

In those years, I couldn't go back, in the bronze mirror, who was crying, the jade fingers were withered, the face was old, and the makeup was dyed with tears.

In those years, I couldn't go back, in a pool of blood, whose teardrops were, scarred, and rusty in the bitter wind and rain.

Spring goes to spring and comes every year, and the tears and makeup are rewarded for you, the neon clothes and dance, the rouge lane, the white jade light is bleak, sprinkled on me.

Day and night are only half an hour, holding the frost in your hand and looking in your direction, the golden shark armor is broken, the battle is on the battlefield, and the horn is cold, surrounding me.

The dust is lightly covered, the carving is hidden, and in the cold night, the slight candlelight is shaking. The years of jackdaw crow, the beauty returns to the empty house, where is he entangled in green silk.

The sleeves are flying, the sword shadow and sword light, and the shouts and neighs echo on the battlefield of Xiao Killing. He was thin and old, and his fine iron armor was cold. Thinking about her day and night, whether she is sad.

I will play a song on the piano for you, and tell your mood with the sound of the piano. Provoke and pluck the emotional strings in your heart.

I poured ink and pen for you, leaving marks on rice paper. Ink inkstone, the pen traces memories.

In those years, I couldn't go back, in the bronze mirror, who was crying, the jade fingers were withered, the face was old, and the makeup was dyed with tears.

In those years, I couldn't go back, in a pool of blood, whose teardrops were, full of scars, ruthless swords, and rust left by the bitter wind and rain.

can't go back, the interweaving of flowers and moons, only the blood wash of rouge and swords.

Xingzhe slowly put down the pen, as if he had just come down from the battlefield, experienced the wind and sand, experienced the horse leather shroud, just so that after everything was over, he could see her smiling face again and hug her into his arms again.

Seeing Xingzhe Leng not moving, Luo Rong was puzzled, so she walked to the table and saw the song written by Xingzhe.

The red lips opened and closed softly, and she sang the song silently, and she wept, for these two people who didn't exist at all.

"You dare to bully Rong'er!"

Yu'er, who had just come back, saw Luo Rong standing next to Xingzhe in tears, thinking that Xingzhe had done something to Luo Rong, so she immediately pulled out the short knife on her waist and stabbed Xingzhe without saying a word.

"Yu'er, stop!"

Luo Rong opened her arms to block Xingzhe, the short knife stopped in Luo Rong's chest, and the sharp short knife cut a small cut on Luo Rong's clothes, fortunately it did not hurt Luo Rong.

"Rong'er, why are you protecting him? She bullied you, I want to teach him a lesson. ”

"Yu'er, you are mistaken, Xingzhe Gongzi didn't bully me, I was moved by the poems he wrote, so I cried. ”

Xingzhe was taken aback by Yu'er, and almost lost her life, this girl, who is jealous of the wind is even greater than Feng Wu and Wan'er, it is too terrifying.

"That...... Miss Rong'er, this song is different from the songs you usually sing, I don't know if you can compose a song. ”

"Xingzhe Gongzi, don't worry, there was already a melody when I was reading it just now, and now as long as I tidy it up and improve it, it should be no problem. ”

Different from ancient poetry, Xingzhe writes this kind of similar pop song, this kind of song is very catchy, sometimes only the lyrics can be sung, and the composition is simpler.

"That's good, I'd better get out of here first, or I'll be dead in a while. ”

"Childe walks slowly. ”

Xingzhe finally wrote a song title "Rouge Sword" on paper.