PDLP Chapter 26 Is this a song written for me?
Chapter 26 Is this a song written for me?
"Comrade Xu Yang, the comrades from the provincial propaganda department just told me that they want to recommend the script of 'Cheering' to the provincial arts festival, and asked if you could polish another version before next month."
Zhang Dahe suddenly stood up, almost tipping over his chair.
Xu Yang nodded: "Yes."
After Officer Liu left, Zhang Dahe excitedly paced around the lounge three times.
"Xiao Xu, you're now the pillar of our propaganda team. Once these comrades from the province leave tonight, your name will be known throughout the entire arts and culture system of Jiangcheng."
Xu Yang slung his bag over his shoulder and casually said, "Director Zhang, let's put aside the issue of being a pillar of the stage for now. I still have to rehearse my harmonica solo tomorrow, so please don't give me any extra work."
Zhang Dahe laughed heartily, patted him on the shoulder and said "okay" three times before letting him go.
Xu Yang rode his bicycle towards the family compound. The night wind was chilly, making the collar of his Zhongshan suit flutter loudly.
He glanced down at a brown paper bag hanging on the handlebars, which contained a harmonica he hadn't used that night, and a newly written manuscript.
This script is the real highlight of the evening, and he cares about it more than the skit.
It was almost ten o'clock when I got back to the Liu family home.
The lights in the hallway were still on. Liu Xiaoli sat in the living room on the first floor, with the script of "The Herdsman" open in front of her, a pen in her hand, staring blankly at a certain page.
Hearing the door open, she looked up, her initial daze instantly replaced by surprise: "How did it go? How did it go? I heard from my third aunt that Minister Han even stood up and applauded!"
"Aunt Hui's information is even faster than mine." Xu Yang smiled, put down his handbag, and sat down opposite her.
"She also said that you were nominated by the province and will be recommended to the provincial performance next month?" Liu Xiaoli put down her pen, leaned forward, and her eyes shone like two stars.
"Yes, we need to polish another version of 'Cheer Up'." Xu Yang nodded, then took the new manuscript out of his bag, placed it on the coffee table, and pushed it over.
"I wrote this after the performance. Take a look."
Liu Xiaoli took it and her eyes fell on the first line of text.
It was the lyrics and score of a song, neatly transcribed on manuscript paper, with every note drawn meticulously.
The title is three characters: "Velvet Flower".
"There is a beautiful flower in the world, it is the bloom of youth..."
She read down each word one by one, her lips moving silently, as if she were chanting.
When she saw the chorus, her fingers suddenly gripped the edge of the manuscript paper tightly, her knuckles turning white.
"Xu Yang..."
"It's for you." Xu Yang admitted it before she could even ask.
Liu Xiaoli looked up at him, her lips moved as if she wanted to say a lot, but in the end she only said softly, "This song... is even better than 'The Story of Time'."
"Of course, what I write for you is definitely the best."
Liu Xiaoli's ears turned red again. She carefully placed the manuscript paper on her lap, looked down at the lyrics, and suddenly began to hum softly.
Her voice was very soft, as if she were testing the temperature of each note.
Xu Yang leaned back on the sofa, listening to her hum with his eyes closed.
She has a great ear for music; she can hum the general melody after just glancing at the sheet music once.
She still had some awkwardness in the transitions in a few places, but she had already hummed out about 70-80% of the melody's gentleness and affection.
After she finished humming the last line, Xu Yang finally spoke: "I want you to sing this song at the opera house's performance for the benefit of the people."
Liu Xiaoli was stunned: "Me? I'm a dancer, not a singer..."
"You have a very good voice; that humming you did just now was quite good." Xu Yang looked at her earnestly.
"Moreover, this song needs a voice like yours to sing it—clean, soft, and warm. A professional singer might not be able to capture this quality."
Liu Xiaoli was persuaded by his earnest tone. After hesitating for a moment, she whispered, "Then I'll ask Teacher Fang tomorrow."
"Okay. Take the sheet music. I'll have your piano teacher accompany you tomorrow to see how it goes."
Xu Yang stood up, stretched, glanced at the clock on the wall, and said, "It's getting late, I should get some rest."
"Xu Yang".
"Um?"
"Thank you." Liu Xiaoli hugged the manuscript to her chest, her voice soft. "This seems to be the second time I've thanked you since you came."
"There will be many more times in the future," Xu Yang said with a smile, then turned and went back to his room.
The moment he closed the door, he heard soft humming coming from the living room again.
This time it was even smoother than before, and the gentle melody came through the door panel, like a thin layer of moonlight spreading over my heart.
He didn't go into his room immediately, but leaned against the door and listened for a long time.
The next day was Sunday, and Xu Yang slept in, which was rare for him.
When I woke up, sunlight had already squeezed in through the gaps in the curtains, drawing a few bright lines on the floor.
He had just finished washing up when he heard someone knocking on the door.
It wasn't Liu Xiaoli's light, quick three taps, but a solid, powerful five-finger clapping motion.
When the door opened, Old Master Zhao Weiguo stood outside holding an enamel teacup, looking displeased.
"Hey Xu, you really gave this old man a hard time last night. When you didn't come to teach me this morning, I practiced the moves in the yard and strained my back." Old Master Zhao complained, but the concern in his eyes was undeniable.
"I heard your skit last night made even the provincial leaders stand up? Well done, you've got some talent!"
"Grandpa Zhao, the performance last night was too late, so I got up late today. I'll definitely be on time tomorrow." Xu Yang smiled and ushered the old man into the house.
Zhao Weiguo sat down on the sofa, looked around, and his gaze fell on the several sheets of paper spread out on the coffee table.
"What is he writing now? The other day, Old Liu was playing chess with me in the pavilion. His mouth was practically stretched to his ears, and he kept calling me 'our little Xu.' Anyone who didn't know better would think you were his son."
Xu Yang poured the old man a glass of water and said with a smile, "Some ideas for new programs are still being refined. Grandpa Zhao, is your back alright? Let me take a look?"
"No need, no need, it's an old ailment." Old Master Zhao waved his hand, took a sip of water, and suddenly said seriously, "Young Xu, I'm not here today just to interrogate you. I have something I want to discuss with you."
"Please speak."
"Next month, our district is going to hold a joint military-civilian gala to express our appreciation to the stationed troops and their families. In previous years, this event was just a formality, with a few old songs sung and that was it. This year, the higher-ups want to make it more substantial, so that the soldiers can truly feel the care from the people." Old Master Zhao paused for a moment, "You are now a pillar of our district's cultural and artistic propaganda, and I would like to invite you to organize this program."
Xu Yang hesitated for a moment: "Grandpa Zhao, I've only been with the propaganda team for less than a week..."
"What's wrong with a week? You do more work in a week than some people do in a year." Old Master Zhao slammed the enamel mug down on the coffee table with a thud. "Just tell me, are you going to do it or not?"
"Let's do it." Xu Yang agreed readily.
Grandpa Zhao nodded in satisfaction, stood up, and patted Xu Yang on the shoulder with the same firmness as always: "Good lad, I knew you wouldn't back down. Someone will contact you about the specifics next week. Alright, I won't keep you from writing, this old man is off."
After seeing Mr. Zhao off, Xu Yang returned to the living room, sat down at the coffee table, and picked up a pen.