Chapter 70

Han Mo sat at the table. The memory of the original Lord kept shuttling in his mind. Happiness, happiness, pain and trouble were intertwined like silk. Right and wrong could not be said clearly. After the soul fusion, although the consciousness still maintained Han Mo's own consciousness, the original Lord's more profound emotion and memory also had a great impact on him.

After a long sigh of relief, the back of his hand inadvertently touched something. Han Mo's eyes cast over. It turned out to be a box of stomach medicine.

Take out the only medicine left and take it with water.

Han Mo reached out and took the guitar standing on the piano stand beside him. This is the only thing of value in the luggage that the original owner and Shuya secretly ran from the south to Beidu. In those years, she had no money in her hand and no money for dinner. Shuya became a small gold lock she had worn since childhood and didn't give up letting the original owner sell the piano. She often said that because it represents his dream, No matter how hard or poor you are, you can't sell it.

Han Mo picked up his guitar. His mood was a little complicated. He opened the mobile phone on the table. The numbers on the screen were timing and the recording began.

Under the slender fingers, the paddles beat on the strings, and the beautiful melody echoed in the house.

"In a hurry that year, we said it several times, and then delayed after goodbye ~ unfortunately, who has? Love is not an eloquence. In a hurry that year, we put down our unbearable promise in a hurry and had to wait for others to fulfill..."

This song is the theme song of a movie. It was sung by Han Mo's former world singer diva. He has always liked it. Today, he wants to give this song to Shuya. The first reason is that Shuya's voice is very similar to this diva. The second reason is that Shuya's mood can interpret this song very well.

The pictures of the past life of the original owner and Shuya are playing like a movie in Han Mo's mind

"If you can't keep your eyes red again, can you still keep your face red? It's like a beautiful rumor that you're in a hurry to carve together forever. If the past is still worthy of nostalgia, don't let go of your past grievances too soon. Who is willing to do this, without hanging or holding each other? We owe each other. Otherwise, why should we cherish our memory..."

The number on the mobile phone screen on the table is still growing, the recording continues, the piano continues, the singing continues, and the memory continues.

The heart when we met, the pity when we fell in love, the helplessness and quarrel when we got along, the farewell and pain when we left, love, hate, regret and blessing, a song, a love, incisive and affectionate, no matter what will happen in the future, Han Mo is singing their hurried year with a complex mood at the moment.

"If you can't keep your eyes red again, can you still keep your face red? It's like a beautiful rumor that you were in a hurry to carve together forever. If the past is still worthy of nostalgia, don't let go of your past grievances too soon. Who is willing to do this, without hanging or holding each other ~"

"We should owe each other, we should break our ties..."

The music grew weaker and weaker and finally disappeared in the air.

This is a girl's song. Han Mo's voice is deeper, more perceptual and full of emotion.

After that, Han Mo didn't audition and sent it directly to Shuya in the form of audio file.

Han Mo didn't pass Peng Ye. He felt that this song didn't need anyone's hand. This is the best way.

The document was sent successfully. Han Mo put the guitar back on the shelf, and then went out to pick up the little guy from school.

Peng Ye disappeared in the morning. Shu Ya was very tired after a day's notice. She opened the door and threw off her high heels. Her swollen and painful feet could finally step on the ground steadily. Shu Ya walked to the sofa and lay down directly. She didn't bother to change her clothes.

Ding Dong, the mobile phone vibrated.

She closed her eyes, felt in her bag for a while and took out her cell phone.

An audio file, sent by: Han Mo, in a hurry.

Shu Ya was stunned because Han Mo hadn't sent her a message for a long time. Every call was related to the children. Their communication in recent years was only about Xuanxuan, nothing else.

Her first reaction may be the children's songs sung by Xuanxuan. Without much thought, she clicked on the play, put her mobile phone aside and continued to close her eyes.

"In a hurry that year, we said it several times and delayed it after goodbye. Unfortunately, who has ever loved is not an eloquence on seven emotions..."

Shuya suddenly opens her eyes, picks up her mobile phone and looks at the screen. This is Han mo

The song continued to play, Shuya's mood was complex, but there was a faint smile around her mouth.

Memories that I haven't remembered for a long time suddenly flashed in my brain. Those feelings have been severely crushed and integrated into the blood. I don't want to be remembered, but they are still flowing.

"... if you can't look red again, can you still blush..."

"... if the past is still worthy of attachment, don't let go of the past too soon..."

"... we must owe each other, we must break our ties."

The music gradually weakened, Shuya slightly closed her eyes, and a tear fell from the corner of her eyes.

Just after the singing, the mobile phone ring suddenly rang. Shuya slowed down and adjusted her mood before connecting the phone. Peng Ye's excited voice came from the receiver.

Peng Yezheng was happy that he won Meng Si with an overwhelming victory. "I just came out of sichen media. Xiaoya, I'll help you do a big thing today. Han Mo accepted our invitation song. He..." her words haven't finished yet.

"Oh, the song has arrived." With that, Shuya hung up the phone.

Peng Ye didn't understand Shuya's meaning, "what? Hello? Xiaoya? " There was only a beep in the receiver.

......

Han Mo gets along with the little guy and does very fixed things every day. He takes Xuanxuan home and starts washing his hands and cooking, then eating, playing with the children, bathing and brushing his teeth, and coaxing the children to sleep. Xuanxuan falls asleep. Han Mo also has to wash the dirty clothes the little guy wears during the day. Generally, he won't have his own time until after ten o'clock, but he enjoys it very much.

Han Mo is going to sort out the story of the journey to the dream ring, and then draw the illustrations of the story based on his impression. This is a little complicated, so he draws everyone's drawings first.

The mobile phone suddenly lights up, with Zhang Mingli's name beating on it.

Because the last time the phone almost made the little guy sleep, Han Mo paid great attention to it. Before coaxing the child to sleep, he set the mobile phone to silent mode.

Just after the phone was connected, Zhang Mingli's eager voice came out without concealment, "brother Han, you need to help me. Our program is waiting for your story. There's no good story. Children don't do it. "

The main reason for the decline in the ratings of Zhang Mingli's program is not that he has no personal charm and the children don't like it, but that there are too few good stories. There is nothing new to tell. Let alone that the children are tired of listening to it, that is, Zhang Mingli is tired of telling it himself.

Han Mo's two stories bring baby rabbit story telling back to life. The ratings are higher and higher again, but the two stories can only be told for two periods, and then it's over. If the quality of the story decreases, the ratings will plummet again.

Zhang Mingli had no choice but to continue to beg Han mo.

"Han Mo, I don't care. You must save me. Last time you said it was not for the time being, that is, it may be. If it is not today, you must give me a positive answer, or I won't hang up." Zhang Mingli said to Han Mo half coquettish and half begged.

The illustration is not good, but as long as the television station has sound copyright, the illustration can't be used. Han Mo glanced at the text version of the just sorted journey around the dream.

A faint reply, "today."