After reading every copy of Mao Buyi carefully, he couldn't help but sigh: "You have written a lot."

"That's natural." Yan Lin replied.

Without this hard work, he wouldn't know that he was so useless.

These were written by Yan Lin at different times. Before writing, he was full of confidence and had the illusion that he “would definitely do this time”.

But without exception, every time the late emperor started his business and the middle way collapsed.

Mao Buyi picked two pieces of feeling, to be precise, and it seemed that they could be rescued, and then asked Yan Lin to take back the others.

"Let's use these two as examples."

Yan Lin hurriedly put his head over, just like when he was studying, listening carefully.

Mao Buyi was silent for a moment, as if he was organizing language.

"It is not difficult to see from your creations that you want to express sadness."

Yan Lin nodded.

It is said that a young man does not know the taste of sorrow, and he insists on saying sorrow in order to write about sorrow. He was really worried at that time.

A person who is abroad is hidden by the company and the contract is far away. In order not to worry his parents, he did not dare to mention it. He silently endured everything alone.

So sad!

Seeing that he did not refute, Mao Buyi continued: "Although the overall work you wrote is sad, you do not have a good entry point, it looks very scattered and cannot be condensed together."

"There is a characteristic of prose in literature, that is, the body is scattered but the spirit is not scattered, and the same is true for writing songs.

But when your work is halfway through, God will disperse, so you can’t continue to write it.”

As he said, he drew circles on the manuscript paper, with a serious attitude.

Yan Lin also knew that this was a good opportunity for him. When he encountered someone he didn't understand, he asked, and Mao Buyi also answered him patiently.

"Actually, there is no need for you to write some words that look very high-end. The words serve to express emotions. If you cannot express your expressions, even the most gorgeous words will be futile."

Yan Lin was a little embarrassed. When he created, he often used some high-profile words.

People have this mentality, just like playing games. No matter how skill is, their skin looks good.

The two kept talking, from lyrics to music, from content to style.

The night gradually became deeper. Although he was particularly reluctant, because he had to record a program the next day, Yan Lin was embarrassed to bother him again, so he could only get up and say goodbye.

Before leaving, he looked at Mao Buyi with greed in his eyes.

This kind of man should be hung on his thighs.

With the help of Mao Buyi, Yan Lin also knew the general direction.

When he returned to his room, he did not rest and had a night of fighting.

"Who has painted the starry sky and forgot the moon. Who has been stained with loneliness and melancholy."

This is the beginning he wrote from the beginning, and he was very satisfied with this, and it was also the only thing Mao Buyi expressed his approval.

However, these two sentences seem to consume all his brain cells, and the things written later always feel like they are a slight beginning and a slight end.

Now after Mao Buyi's point of view, he seemed to have been opened to the Ren and Du meridians and wrote.

"Under the warmth, sighing at the passing years, the paper is short and the love is long, the coldness shines in my heart, and the night wind sings solo."

“…”

He kept revising and revising it, and he forgot about the time. He also wrote and accompanied the guitar and hummed lightly.

"Looking at yesterday's story turned yellow, where is the old man? If the longing echoes, the stars are everywhere.

Even though the future is sad, even if it is confusing, as if the world has no dreams, how could it be that the sound of the flute is melodious."

At first, he felt that since he wanted to express his sadness, he would be sad all over the article.

However, Mao Buyi told him that the whole article was too pessimistic and the look of smiling with tears was the most heartbreaking thing.

After thinking carefully, Yan Lin felt that what he said made sense, so he revised it.

"The future is sad and confused, and if the world has no dreams, how could it be that the sound of the flute is melodious?"

Although I am very confused now and cannot see the hope of the future, I still have to stick to my dreams, because people without dreams are no different from salted fish, and I don’t know the melodious sound of the flute.

When the whole song was written down in full, Yan Lin read it over and over again, and felt the urge to cry.

It's so rare, he is Nezha in the history of music.

Nezha's mother was only pregnant with him for three years, and for this reason his father also developed the Qilin arm, which was so strong that he could hold the tower.

It has been two years since his song was brewing.

Although Yan Lin also knew that this song might be a bit different from other singers, who is the father who thinks his child is ugly?

It's your own.

Putting down the guitar and pen in his hand, Yan Lin realized that it was not known when the sky was dawning.

After looking at the time, it was already past six o'clock. He carefully packed the manuscript paper and then hurried to make up for his early sleep.

In the training hall, all the students gathered. Song Qian asked strangely: "Why haven't Yan Lin come yet? Isn't he the earliest every time?"

Now the recording time is almost here, everyone is here, and only Yan Lin is missing, which makes her very surprised.

Yan Lin is the most punctual person in normal times.

"He should be taking a break. He went to bed very late last night." Mao Buyi guessed.

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone looked at him.

Mao Buyi was startled and said, "What do you think of me?"

Huang Zaitao said with a treacherous smile: "How do you know so clearly? What did you do last night."

The others were also looking at him strangely.

Mao Buyi was confused. Who are these people? You can think of this wrongly.

He quickly explained, "Why are you all like this? Last night, Yan Lin went to my place to ask me about writing songs. We discussed it together for a long time. He didn't go back until after twelve o'clock. After he returned, I vaguely heard the guitar sound in his room. He should have gone to bed very late."

When they said Cao Cao, Cao Cao arrived, they were talking, and Yan Lin hurried over.

"Sorry, I'm late." Yan Lin said awkwardly. He was still a little panting because he ran too fast.

He was really embarrassed. He originally wanted to take a short look, but who would have thought that he would die of sleep and didn't even hear the director's phone call.

If someone hadn't called him, he would have been sleeping dead now.

"Is it done?" Mao Buyi asked suddenly before anyone else could speak.

When he heard Mao Buyi mention this, Yan Lin nodded excitedly and said, "It's done. Thank you very much for Teacher Mao. If you didn't give me any advice, I wouldn't have written this song "A City" so quickly."
Chapter completed!