mtlumby2d Chapter 423 The Closest Place to a Lie
Chapter 423 The Closest Place to a Lie
Center stage.
The light had completely transformed into a scattering of tiny glimmers, like countless fireflies dancing around Jiang Bai's bright yellow fitted dress.
The song has come to its finale.
Jiang Bai had completely immersed himself in that deeply buried memory.
At this moment, his voice was clear and tender, like a handful of spring water just melting from the snow-capped mountains; every "ah" carried a purity that could physically penetrate the soul.
"Ah—ah—"
"Every night I think of my mother's words, and tears well up in my eyes... Lupine flower."
He asked himself silently:
Why do the stars in the sky twinkle when a baby on earth misses its mother?
The floodgates of memory were completely opened at this moment by the melody of this song.
in the past.
When he was just a tiny little boy who couldn't even hold a guitar properly, the car accident that took away his parents also took away all the color from his childhood.
At that time.
His relatives surrounded him, looking at the tiny little boy who wasn't even as tall as the table, their eyes filled with pity and helplessness.
The uncle patted his head and said:
"Little White, don't cry. Your parents didn't go far. They just thought the ground was too crowded, so they turned into stars and went to live in the sky."
"If you miss them, look up and you'll see the two brightest stars."
At that time, he truly believed it.
Countless late nights.
He carried a small stool and sat in the yard, craning his neck to stare at the night sky.
As I stared at them, my eyes got tired, and the stars became blurry, looking as if they were winking at me.
He would wave to the starry sky.
She would talk to herself and say that she got a little red flower at school today.
They would ask their parents in heaven if they were cold.
As Jiang Bai grew up, he realized that this was just a gentle yet cruel lie.
He knew that the stars in the sky were twinkling fireballs thousands of light-years away.
Not Mom and Dad.
Even after understanding the truth, Jiang Bai later became a street singer who had to make a living by busking.
He also consistently refused to go to bars or indoor places.
He preferred to brave the cold winter wind and have his fingers freeze stiff in order to work in the open air.
At that time, he would carry his guitar and, during a break between songs, habitually look up.
Because it was an open-air environment.
That was the closest he could feel to the starry lie whenever he looked up.
[Ding! Host, your broken expression, like "I'm an unwanted orphan," is almost enough to make those old men in the audience reveal their bank card PINs!]
Jiang Bai choked back tears as he retorted:
"Tongzi, you're the wild child!"
"Get the hell out of here... I'm really, really, really homesick this time."
He slowly raised his head, his misty eyes gazing at the array of lights high in the studio, his voice trembling with a hint of sadness:
"Ah—ah—"
"I think of my mother's words every night~"
"Sparkling tears~"
The last word, "light," was as light as a gentle breeze afraid of disturbing a dream.
It swirls and entwines in the air before slowly dissipating.
As the music ended, Jiang Bai maintained his head-up posture.
In that instant.
In a daze, he actually saw twinkling stars, filling the entire sky.
But it wasn't an illusion, nor was it a special effect of the system.
Those twinkling lights weren't stars either.
Rather, it was the tears of the thousands of audience members below the stage.
At this moment, they were all crying so hard that their faces were contorted, and tears and snot were streaming down their faces.
Under the stage lights, those tear-stained faces shone like a galaxy of stars.
The song has ended.
The silence was deathly, like a giant sponge that instantly absorbed all the sounds in the room.
Jiang Bai stood in that dim, warm light, the hem of her bright yellow dress trembling slightly.
Just then.
In the eerily quiet audience, a sob, slightly distorted, suddenly erupted:
"Wow!! Mom!! I missed you so much!!"
That sound was like a drop of ice water being poured into a pot of boiling oil.
The sourness that had been suppressed in my throat exploded instantly!
"Waaaaah... I need to buy a ticket right now and go back to my hometown to kowtow to my mother!"
"I miss my mom too! I'm going home right now, even if she beats me into a spinning top with a broom tomorrow, I'll accept it!"
"Goddess Baizhi! You're too ruthless! That one look you gave me just now, I felt like all the maternal love in the universe poured into my bald head!"
"First round, you sing about your ex; second round, you sing about your ancestors for eighteen generations. Goddess, are you trying to send the entire audience to the Western Paradise for repentance?"
"Wow, I haven't even had a chance to be a filial daughter to my mom, and she's already become a star!"
Those who cry the loudest and most heart-wrenchingly are mostly those who have already lost their mothers.
In this world of cultural and entertainment wasteland, the song "Lupin Flower" is like a depressing nuclear bomb that precisely strikes the depths of the soul.
For them.
The passing of a loved one is never a sudden downpour, but rather a dampness that lasts a lifetime!
Every time I wake up in the middle of the night.
Whenever I see the twinkling stars in the sky, a chilling sensation spreads through my bones.
At the edge of the stage, Hua Shao, who is known for his "fast-talking, professional, and cool GG" delivery, was gripping the microphone tightly, his whole body trembling like a reed in the wind.
He hadn't forgotten his responsibilities; he knew it was his turn to take the stage.
He should be hosting the proceedings in front of thousands of people crying their eyes out, and reading lines for the big spenders.
But the tears wouldn't listen to me!
Hua Shao wiped his face and was about to take a step when the image of his grandfather, who used to sit on the threshold of his old home mending clothes before he became famous, suddenly popped into his mind.
At that moment, the stars in the sky seemed to transform into my grandfather's image.
"Grandpa... Junior Sister Bai Zhi is right, will you also turn into a star to watch over me?"
Hua Shao slapped his thigh hard, trying to use physical pain to counteract the trembling of his soul.
He frantically wiped his eyes, but they kept flowing again after he wiped them dry.
A full five minutes passed.
When Wang Dazhong in the control room was about to crush the walkie-talkie, Hua Shao finally managed to salvage the last vestige of his professionalism.
He took a deep breath and forcefully suppressed the heavy nasal sound.
With slightly unsteady steps, she walked onto the stage soaked with tears.
"Thank you... Phew... Thank you, junior Bai Zhi."
Hua Shao's first words were husky with a kind of extreme restraint, which, combined with his slightly red eyes, created an eerie sense of harmony that seemed to say, "Let's all cry together, and no one should laugh at anyone else."
"I think the studio no longer needs Jia Shao Bao herbal tea to cool it down; what we need is... a lifeboat."
Hua Shao muttered something into the microphone, his voice not loud, but it carried precisely throughout the entire venue.
Upon hearing this, many of the audience members' sadness dissipated instantly.
This is the skill of a top-notch host!
On the stage.
Hua Shao looked at Jiang Bai, his eyes devoid of their usual politeness, filled only with a deep reverence for his talent.
Followed by.
He turned his head and looked at the four old foxes in the instructor's seat, their eyes already red-rimmed:
"Four mentors, if your tear ducts aren't completely paralyzed, please give your feedback!"