Before dinner, Gu Xianning finally rushed back.
"An’an." The young man’s eyes sparkled, like the brightest star on a sumr night.
But when he saw Liu Runxi walking out behind Shen You’an, his gaze gradually dimd.
He was always good at enduring, these emotions were hidden, unnoticeable even in turbulent tis, invisible to outsiders.
Gu Xianning nodded lightly as a greeting, clearly not as affectionate as he was towards Shen You’an.
Gu Chengzhao ca out of the kitchen with the cooked fish: "Dinner is ready, co quickly, co quickly."
They sat down at the dining table.
Gu Chengzhao had made a table full of dishes, half of which were Gu Xianning’s favorites, and the other half Shen You’an’s.
Gu Chengzhao thought of sothing, glanced at Shen You’an, and wanted to speak but hesitated.
Shen You’an smiled and said, "Uncle, what do you want to say?"
"I heard Yu Fusheng’s case is going to trial these days."
Instantly, everyone’s eyes at the table fell on Shen You’an’s face.
Shen You’an swallowed a bite of food and said slowly, "The court session is next Monday."
Elder Mrs. Gu snorted coldly, "Such a person should be executed, or else where is the majesty of the law?"
Na Amo glared at Gu Chengzhao, talking about such heavy topics during a al, see how it made the atmosphere awkward.
Gu Chengzhao also realized it was inappropriate to ask such questions now.
"An’an, I wrote a new song, your aesthetics and musical sense are good, help evaluate it later."
Gu Xianning tily changed the subject.
Shen You’an gladly agreed, "Alright."
Just after dinner, Liu Runxi received a call from Helian Yu, there was an urgent matter at ho, and he needed to return quickly, the tone sounded very serious.
Shen You’an saw Liu Runxi’s furrowed brow, and softly said, "Go back first, maybe Mrs. Liu really has sothing urgent."
Shen You’an knew very well that Helian Yu was definitely doing it on purpose, but she couldn’t let Liu Runxi fall out with his biological mother because of her.
Liu Runxi’s gaze quietly passed over the silent Gu Xianning, settling warmly on Shen You’an’s face.
"Tomorrow, let’s et at the library."
Shen You’an made an OK sign.
Liu Runxi picked up his coat, politely bid farewell to the elders, and turned to leave in big strides.
"An’an, let show you my room." Gu Xianning ca over and said.
Gu Xianning’s room had been furnished and moved into a month ago.
It was Shen You’an’s first ti entering his room.
Upon entering, the first sensation was one of space, large enough to hold a guitar circle in the center, large enough to connect the recording studio, music room, bedroom, and study into one, yet not chaotic at all, like a thoughtfully planned small world.
The bedroom was in soft light tones, the bedding as soft as clouds, leaving enough space by the bed to sit cross-legged at any ti, strumming a guitar, humming a song.
The night breeze gently lifted the pure white curtains, outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, under the vast starry sky, Jingshan looked like a sleeping giant, quietly accompanying.
The study had a huge bookshelf, under the soft light of the desk lamp, one corner of the desk seed like a quiet little world.
Further inside was a dedicated music room, the walls softly soundproofed, not glaring, not cold, more like a part of the ho, rather than a cold studio, a large space empty in the center, enough to hold his usual instrunts, effects, stands, and a comfortable chair, allowing him to sit for an entire afternoon, writing songs, practicing vocals, or daydreaming without being disturbed.
Further inside was a professional recording studio, soundproofed well and quiet, with the door closed, the outside clamor, the sounds of family, all faded away, leaving only him and the voice together.
The whole space was not intentionally luxurious, yet bore marks of being seriously considered everywhere.
He was a child nurtured with care, growing up in love, even the place where dreams rested was laid soft and stable by family.
Gu Xianning held a guitar, strumming and singing gently in the soft night breeze of late spring.
The room was only lit by a warm yellow lamp, the young man’s fingers had a distinctive slenderness, gently falling on the strings, even the breathing was light, as if afraid of disturbing sothing.
Upon opening his mouth, the voice was uniquely clear, softer and more transparent than usual, like spring water just thawed, pure without a trace of impurity, yet wrapped in a layer of cautious tenderness.
The tune was light and slow, his unique lody, simple yet gripping, without elaborate arrangent, only the sound of the guitar and his voice, he sang with restraint, no high notes, no flaunting techniques, each line laid in his breath, like whispering secrets by the ear.
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