NIP Chapter 298 What's so great about singing about my deskmate?
Chapter 298 What's so great about singing about my deskmate?
Just as the two directors were hanging up the phone with each other, the Masked Singer entered its second round.
Due to the minor popularity of "The Sea" from The Masked Singer, many people switched their TVs to watch "The Masked Singer".
A barbecue restaurant in Shanghai, full of lively atmosphere.
It was during the National Day holiday, and a group of sales elites in their thirties were gathered together.
Beer bottles were scattered all over the floor, and the lamb skewers on the table were still sizzling hot.
They came out today to celebrate meeting their quarterly targets; they should have been full of pride and high spirits.
However, the wall-mounted TV was playing "The Masked Singer".
The song "The Sea" that just played brought tears to the eyes of the two grown men at the table.
A 32-year-old top salesperson was sobbing over a plate of edamame, covering his face and muttering the name of his first love.
"Hey Lao Zhang, Lao Wang, that's enough, you two!"
Zhao Li tilted his head back and downed a glass of Yanjing beer, looking at his company's top sales performer with a look of disdain.
"How old are you? How can you cry like this while watching a variety show?"
"Aren't we losing face for our sales department?"
"A man should have masculinity!"
The other two colleagues who hadn't cried also joined in the commotion:
"Exactly, one song was enough to physically exorcise you? Silver Fox just has a loud voice, is it really that serious?"
Old Wang retorted, sobbing:
"Old Zhao, you're heartless... That high note really hurt me."
"Don't be so heartbroken, I bet your legs hurt from kneeling on the washboard last night."
"That's just how this show is; after singing the high notes, they always have to get emotional."
Zhao Li wiped his mouth, and although he complained, his gaze still involuntarily drifted towards the television.
On the screen, the man wearing the silver fox mask returned to the stage.
"Hey, have you guys noticed?"
A colleague pointed at the screen.
"This silver fox picked up a guitar, and his posture is exactly the same as the former goddess Bai Zhi during the blind auditions of The Voice of China!"
"Coincidence, you can think of your goddess Bai Zhi no matter what."
Zhao Li snorted coldly, but quietly put down the wine glass in his hand.
"Judging by that aura, he's probably going to hit a high note again."
"Old Zhang, put the tissues away, let's watch something real!"
However, to everyone's surprise, things turned out differently.
The Jiang Bai on TV didn't have the same overwhelming power he displayed when singing "The Sea" earlier.
He simply sat quietly on a high stool, holding a very simple folk guitar in his arms.
A crisp, clean guitar strumming sound, even carrying a hint of a tree-lined campus, rang out from the television.
The noise in the restaurant seemed to have been muted.
at the same time.
At the bottom of the screen, four words slowly appeared: "My Deskmate".
My deskmate?
What's so good to sing about my deskmate?
Zhao Li didn't pay attention, but the voice drifted into his ears.
There were no fancy trills, no flashy vibrato.
Will you remember what you wrote in your diary yesterday?
Jiang Bai's deep, magnetic voice, as if whispering old times in your ear, traveled through every corner via the inexpensive speakers.
Zhao Ligang abruptly stopped, the wine glass he was about to bring to his lips.
What's going on with these lyrics?
Will you still remember the you who used to cry the most tomorrow?
"The teachers can't remember you, and they can't guess the question you asked~"
"I only remembered you, my deskmate, when I happened to be flipping through old photos~"
My deskmate......
Each word was like a hook, precisely catching the yellowed photo album deep in his mind.
He remembered the girl who sat to his left in his second year of high school.
In that instant, the barbecue stall in front of Zhao Li disappeared.
He seemed to smell a cheap yet incredibly refreshing shampoo scent, mixed with the smell of wood on an old school desk bathed in afternoon sunlight.
It was an afternoon during my second year of high school, and the fan was whirring overhead.
His deskmate was a girl named Xiaoya.
She always wore a faded blue and white school uniform, and her long hair was tied into a high ponytail with an ordinary red rubber band.
Every time she bent down to do math problems, her ponytail would sway gently with her movements, occasionally brushing against Zhao Li's textbook, which was full of doodles.
Zhao Li felt as if a wad of water-soaked cotton was stuffed into his throat, causing a painful blockage.
What did he know back then?
All he knew was that the gentle girl was a good student, and he wanted her to pay more attention to him.
So, he deliberately lost his eraser, deliberately got that simple trigonometry problem wrong, and then grinned and went over to her.
"Hey, deskmate, how do you solve this problem?"
"My pen is out of ink, can I borrow one?"
"Have you finished your homework? Hurry up, I'll be so grateful, let me borrow yours for 'reference'!"
Actually, he had a dozen M&G pen refills in his backpack, and he had already memorized the formulas.
He just wanted to see her frown slightly, then mutter "So stupid" under her breath as she pulled a warm pen from her pencil case and explained the problem to him in a soft voice.
At that time, he thought that these noisy days would last a lifetime.
At that time, he didn't know what "going their separate ways" meant.
On the television, Jiang Bai's singing continued, each line like a heavy hammer blow, striking Zhao Li's heart.
"Who will marry someone as sentimental as you?"
Who read your diary?
"Who put your long hair up?"
"Who made your wedding dress?"
The voice took on a slightly hoarse tone at that moment, carrying a subtle sense of powerlessness in the face of the passage of time.
boom.
Without warning, the wine glass in Zhao Li's hand fell onto the table, spilling pale yellow liquid all over the floor.
"Who...who made your wedding dress?"
Zhao Li murmured the words, feeling a tightness in her chest.
Now that I'm older, I understand that back then, he liked his deskmate, Xiaoya.
Unfortunately, time has passed.
He knew Xiaoya's contact information, but he didn't dare to bother her.
"I wonder if she got married? More than ten years have passed, she's probably married and has children by now."
"Damn it, why didn't you go earlier? What's the use of saying it now?"
Zhao Li murmured something, and her eyes suddenly reddened.
He finally understood. It wasn't some kind of friendship between classmates; it was the purest, yet also the most cowardly, feeling of liking someone in his life.
You used to be so careful—you'd ask me to borrow half an eraser.
You once mentioned it unintentionally~
I like being with you~
The music from the television was still playing.
"Waaaaah..."
In a corner of the restaurant, a group of young people who were playing a drinking game suddenly fell silent.
A blond-haired man in his early twenties lay face down on the table, crying like a child who had lost a toy.
"I miss my deskmate... Why did I ever steal her spicy snacks?! Why the hell did I draw a line down the middle for her?!"
This feeling was like a deadly virus, instantly infecting the entire restaurant.
Zhao Li, who had just been mocking others, could no longer hold on.
His eyes quickly reddened; the regret that had spanned more than a decade was completely and physically resolved by Jiang Bai with a guitar at this moment.
He turned his head and found that the colleagues who had been "masculine" with him just moments before had all completely succumbed to temptation.
Old Zhang, the top salesman, was staring blankly at a plate of cold tomato salad, his eyes filled with tears.
Department manager Lao Li was facing away from everyone, his shoulders trembling as he tried to hold back his sobs.
What was supposed to be a celebratory performance-building party instantly turned into a massive "first love memorial service."
"This silver fox..."
Zhao Li, his voice hoarse, sobbed as he cursed.
"This isn't a love song...it's like a bullet shot into my heart!"
Just then, a soft, slightly surprised female voice sounded behind Zhao Li:
"Would you like to order more beer for this table?"