She suddenly remembered the sound of her mother's piano that she had heard when she was a child. At that time, her health was already very bad, and the days of listening to her play the piano were getting shorter and shorter. Mother's piano sound was so gentle, so inclusive, she was so beautiful, but after a short time she couldn't even lift her fingers.

"You know what? My mother taught me the piano. She smiled softly, "But no one understands why our piano sounds completely different." She looked into his calm eyes, suppressed the emotions that had haunted her for years, and changed the subject, "What tune are you playing?" Very nice to hear. ”

He sat on the piano bench and stretched out his long legs, his arms propped up on the lid, and he replied casually, "I don't know." The piece was originally played on a violin, written by a street performer himself. You can hear music everywhere in their town, but I just liked this one. Lan Qingchuan listened quietly, and the young man smiled as he spoke, "I gave him money to write the score to me." He didn't understand, so I gestured with both hands like a fool, but fortunately he gave it to me generously at the end. The red-haired, deep-eyed man gave him all the money back when he left, and smiled and shouted a local phrase that he thought was saying goodbye, and the foreign phrase meant "To you who are sad", the name of the song.

He bent his eyes, and he had never been so obsessed with such a thing. When he was young, he used to learn a lot of things, and so far, many of them have been abandoned, including the piano. He watched the score over and over again on the return plane, not knowing if he could still play it, and all he wanted at that time was to bring it back to her.

"If you like, I'll go back and get you the score." He stood up, only to see her shake her head, "No. She couldn't play his agility and vividness, and the sun jumped. Her piano teacher in France, Mrs. Müller, had tactfully told her that you could try something else, more cheerful and more enthusiastic. She shook her head, unable to pour out that emotion. Mrs. Müller said that time is still there, and you will always find those missing emotions. She has not been found.

"I can't play it, but I love it." She sat on the sofa, her eyebrows and eyes were painted, such a delicate and timeless appearance. Han Luochen sat down next to her, the two of them bathed in the sun together, the young man lazily closed his eyes, the back of his head against the edge of the sofa, it was rare to have such a quiet time.

"In that case, let's keep this song a secret for the two of us. Only I have played it to you, only you have heard me play it. "So be happy, Lan Qingchuan, you are always so calm and indifferent, I have to try my best to make you smile.

I won't be tired, but I'm afraid you won't like me.

Many words flashed through his mind, but in the end he didn't say them.

He didn't even ask the question he wanted her to respond to, he thought that after so long, he could wait for her, even if it was fine now.

Han Luochen slept in the couch of Lan Qingchuan's piano room for an afternoon, during which he was busy with exams and never felt tired. He finally slept enough and got up, there was no sunlight, and the lights were left in the room and the curtains were drawn. He was still covered with a blanket with her light scent.