Eternal Burning

Fortunately, the bar has placed a high-power vertical heater next to each booth, and the marble coffee table has repeatedly bonfires from the gap in the middle, doing its best to provide more warmth for each customer.

There is a four-piece band not far away, and a foreign female singer in an evening dress is singing lazy blues with a strong and melodious voice.

The table that Shang Muxiao was sitting on was facing the river. When I went over, he was standing in front of the guardrail with his elbows on the railing, his head lowered slightly, and he was bored watching the scenery.

He was young, and the night was so cold that he was only wearing a thin black sweater, and the coat was casually thrown on the back of the chair beside him.

The waiter asked me if I was here, and I was about to nod when Shang Muxiao heard the movement and turned around, and then I saw clearly that he still had something in his hand, a whiskey glass, and a cigarette that had just been lit.

You finally came. He leaned lazily against the guardrail, looking like he had already drank a lot.

The waiter moved me a chair so I could sit in a wheelchair, then gave me the drink list and asked me what I would like to drink.

Bring him a glass of orange juice. There was only a huge ice ball left in the whisky glass. Shang Muxiao handed it to the waiter, then took a seat beside me and flicked a piece of ash from the ashtray. Or do you prefer apple juice?

There was no problem with his questioning, and he had a non-disgusting smile on his face, but I always felt that his tone was wrong. This tone was not aimed at an adult older than him, but more like at a child younger than him, showing a little connivance and a little helpless pampering.

No, bring me a cup of oolong tea, hot. I returned the drink list to the waiter, who nodded and turned to leave.

Shang Muxiao smiled: Teacher, you are quite healthy.

If you don't call me out, I'm already drowsiness brewing on chat now.

Why are you here alone? I asked.

I had nothing to do at night, I was a little bored, and I didn't want to mess with Zhou Yanyi and the others, so I came here. Shang Muxiao looked at the dark and peaceful river surface, and slowly exhaled a thin puff of smoke. This place is very suitable for drinking alone.

I was keenly aware of the strangeness in his tone, and couldn't help frowning: Did you and your family quarrel again?

His body froze, as if he was stabbed by me, and he looked a little annoyed when he looked back.

I hurriedly said: I know, don't mention this.

His expression softened a little, glanced at my legs, and suddenly pulled his jacket and threw it on me.

Cover, it's cold outside.

Again, that kind of tone as if treating a child. I think these words are very familiar. It seems that every time I take Yang Youling out to play, I am afraid that she will catch a cold.

Thinking like this in my heart, I still thanked him on the surface and calmly accepted his coat.

The waiter quickly brought a tray of hot tea and another glass of whisky.

The two of them were silent for a short while. I took a sip of tea from the cup, and my attention was attracted by the female singer who was singing.

The other party wore a shiny pink sequined tight skirt with a large V-neck and high slits, revealing a splendid figure. While pleasing to the eye, I inevitably felt cold for her. Especially after I saw that her hands were freezing red, I really wanted her to go into the house and change into warmer clothes.

Does it look good?

I was stunned for a moment, then looked back at Shang Muxiao.

He was also looking at the female singer, and when he noticed that I was looking at him, he retracted his gaze and looked at me.

Is she good looking or am I good looking? With a cigarette between his fingertips, he leaned into the soft sofa, his tone was very light, and his chin was raised in the direction of the female singer.

what is the problem...

I looked away and looked back at the female singer, without answering his question: I just thought she sang very well.

The voice fell, and there was a slight noise behind him, Shang Muxiao walked over to the female singer.

I grabbed him subconsciously, afraid that he would mess up.

What are you gān?

It may be because of drinking, his hands are very hot, like a blazing flame. In just a few seconds, I felt as if I was about to get burned, and hurriedly let go. However, the moment the fingertips were detached, Shang Muxiao caught up and held my hand even tighter, completely preventing me from pulling it back.

What do you think I want to gān? Smash the field? He rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb, warmed my cold fingers, and sang to you, wait. After he finished speaking, he let go of my hand and walked slowly to the four in the center of the terrace. people band.

I don't know how he communicated, the female singer nodded again and again, but did not leave the venue, but the pianist on the side got up and gave way.

Shang Muxiao sat down on the piano bench, adjusted the position of the microphone, played a few notes to feel the pitch, and when he was almost ready, he nodded to the others and pressed the first note.

The world-renowned Little Star Variations sounded quietly on the terrace, and the brisk tune was full of childlike innocence. But after two paragraphs, the style of the song suddenly changed, and he repeated the beginning again, and the tonality had changed from brisk and short to melodious and lazy.

The guitars and drums slowly came together to form a unique piece with a strong blues style...Little Star.