Chapter 3

At seven o'clock the next evening, Xinhua bookstore.

Chen Feng appeared in the reference book area of the bookstore.

When he went to work during the day, he had found out on the Internet what books Chun Mengxin, a completely zero foundation, should read when he began to learn music creation from scratch.

He has to learn from scratch.

When ordinary people learn to compose music, they need to have a considerable degree of research on the theoretical systems of music theory, harmony, rhythm and musical form, and form a rational and perceptual cognition in their hearts. Only in this way can they have a deep understanding of music and write complete works.

With cognition, we need emotion, rhythm and structure

These latter realms are too far away for Chen Feng. He doesn't even know the spectrum now. He is still thousands of miles away from independent creation.

But he was not in a hurry. When ten thousand tall buildings rose from the ground, things had to be done step by step.

He doesn't intend to be a real creator. He takes the standard answer to deduce the problem-solving process, which is much simpler than real creation.

He doesn't need inspiration. He just needs to be a porter.

He spent two hours in the bookstore until the salesman reminded him that he was going to leave work. Chen Feng left the bookstore with reference books to consolidate basic knowledge, such as basic music theory, learning to create from three strings, zero basic guitar, spectrum recognition and so on.

He also bought an inferior guitar for 300 yuan online. It won't arrive until about two or three days.

It was nine o'clock at night when she came home, and Zhong Lei upstairs had already gone out.

Chen Feng temporarily gave up the idea of continuing to approach Zhong Lei. Anyway, he couldn't stick it. It's better to rely on himself.

Unconsciously, a month passed.

At 8:30 that night, Chen Feng clenched his teeth and fiddled with the guitar strings in the room.

The sound of Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang.

Bean sized sweat drops came out of Chen Feng's head, slid down his cheeks and fell on the floor.

He clenched his teeth with a slightly ferocious expression.

He didn't expect to learn musical instruments so difficult.

He can basically recognize the notes on the basic score, and can barely recite them in his heart, but it's terrible to play them.

For a few more minutes, Chen Feng threw his guitar on the bed, threw his head up at the head of the bed, his eyes were dull and his mood was lost.

This is the 50th time in nearly 30 days that he wants to give up.

The thinking mode of adults has become a stereotype. They have no sense of smell of artistic cells. It's too difficult to learn music from scratch.

If you don't have talent, even if your eyes understand and your ears remember, you think you will, but you can't do it well.

These days, Chen Feng sleeps almost four or five hours a day.

Having to work during the day and having no money to hire a teacher, he can only barely study with very low efficiency in his spare time at night.

His sleep time was too short, which made him depressed for a long time during the day.

Chen Feng feels that if he goes on like this, he may not copy the song. He's afraid he'll die of fatigue first.

What's more frustrating is that with the passage of time, the classical melodies and lyrics he barely wrote down are gradually forgotten.

Except for "boring", which has written down a few lyrics, he can't remember almost a complete lyrics of other songs.

What's more painful is that even the song "boring", he can't remember the whole song, but only the catchy chorus.

Memory is like sand in the hand. The harder you grasp it, the more it will slip away from your fingers.

The more he thought, the more he got nothing.

It's just that when he was listening to songs in his dream, he never thought he would copy these songs one day.

Otherwise, he might as well hum a few more words at that time.

"Alas, I'm afraid I'll have forgotten it all before I learn it?"

If he could turn back time and give him another chance to "dream", Chen Feng felt that he would cherish it.

From the beginning, we have to study hard and practice hard, and try to copy a few songs from him in a year, even if he memorizes them by rote.

Unfortunately, now the dream has not only woke up, but even broken.

Chen Feng smiled bitterly and said to himself, "when you count the ball, sometimes you must have it in your life. Don't force it in your life. Don't practice!"

He sat up fiercely, grabbed the guitar and played it crackly, hoping to break the string.

Anyway, Zhong Lei must not be at home at the moment, and no one will be disturbed by him.

If their biological clocks were not completely staggered, Chen Feng would not dare to practice in the room.

I didn't think about it. Thirty seconds later, I heard heavy footsteps downstairs outside the door.

Dong Dong Dong.

Chen Feng's door was knocked heavily.

When she opened the door, Zhong Lei, wearing light blue pajamas, stood at the door with messy hair. A pair of bleary beautiful big eyes were staring at Chen Feng angrily.

The neckline of her pajamas is a little low, but Chen Feng, who is guilty of theft, doesn't dare to look more.

Hell, why is she still at home?

"What are you going to do at night? Do you let people sleep?"

Chen Feng waved awkwardly, "I... I'm learning to play the guitar."

"You're a ghost! I can tell you clearly that I know you don't have a sense of music after listening to you play for five minutes! You're a person who can't sing with five tones and a mess of rhythm!"

After a month of hard study and practice, Chen Feng knows himself very well. He knows that Zhong Lei's words are half right.

But although Zhong Lei is telling the truth, it's too irritating to be sprayed face to face.

He wanted to say something to save face.

But Zhong Lei said again, "I beg you. Don't play. It's not easy for me to take a nap. Let me go."

Seeing that her tone was a little better, Chen Feng was trying to respond. Anyway, he was going to give up.

Don't want her to say again: "I'm also your guitar. Please don't play it. Although it's just a bargain, it's too miserable to be played like this. Why don't you just burn it as firewood and give it a relief, OK?"

Woge

Chen Feng almost didn't mention it at the bottom of his heart, "what..."

That's too vicious.

Even knowing that the other party can become a contemporary Beethoven, Chen Feng also wants to paste her bear face.

Zhong Lei didn't give him a chance to get angry, but turned and walked upstairs. "In short, don't blame me for not saying hello. If you want me to hear that noise again, I'll complain to you!"

She slammed the door again.

Downstairs, Chen Feng was so angry that he hated him.

But he really can't help it. After all, his own job is the apartment housekeeper. It's his job to deal with the noise disturbing residents in the neighborhood, not to mention the housekeeper himself.

If Zhong Lei complains, he will have to deduct his performance bonus for less than half a month.

Chen Feng wanted to say something. Don't bully a young man who is poor. Sooner or later, you have to beg me.

But he turned to think of his miserable self-study experience in the past month, and felt frustrated.

It seems that there is no chance of shame.

Forget it, that's it.

That night, Chen Feng tossed and turned in bed for nearly two hours before he fell asleep very hard.

……

"Private Chen Feng! Get out of the line!"

Chen Fengmeng opened his eyes.

The hazy sunshine is a little strange and dazzling.

Looking around, it is a huge square with an endless view.

In the distant sky, some cone-shaped aircraft are taking off quickly and slowly.

Nearby, there is a generous face with strange and familiar Chinese characters.

The owner of the square face was staring at himself angrily with the eyes of the hungry man.

The same place, the same people, the same angry eyes.

As like as two peas of dreams, they were exactly the same as they were when they first started a month ago.

Chen Feng lost his mind again in a trance.

I... I dreamed again?

After a month, I entered that dream again?

And still a reserve private?

Even the first sentence that instructor Ding Hu woke himself up was exactly the same!

This... What's going on!

"Still in a daze? Go and run around the playground for ten times!"

Ding Hu's deafening roar sounded in Chen Feng's ear.

Chen Feng gave a pep talk, even the lines that told him to run circles were the same.

In his last dream, Chen Feng didn't run laps for the first time, but asked me who I was, where I was, what I was doing and why I ran laps.

The result was that ten laps turned into twenty laps, which almost killed him on the playground.

This time, Chen Feng learned to be smart, gave a military salute quickly, and then turned around and ran away to the playground runway.

At the same time, he glanced at the electronic clock on the tower in the distance.

October 26, ad 3019, at 8 a.m.

This is really another day, back to the beginning of the dream.

He was still at a loss about what was going on.

Why do you have the same dream just a month later?

What is the two time as like as two peas?

What does this dream mean?

Zhong Lei's existence has proved that the dream is a real world. What does the ending of everyone dying mean?

Am I really dreaming?

Or did my soul cross a thousand years and come here?

But why can I go back?

Why is the second dream a new beginning?

Is time going back?

There are still 100000 reasons in my heart, but it doesn't hinder Chen Feng from clearing his mind quickly.

Don't think about things that you can't understand. Just grasp the key points that should be grasped at present.

At least it shows that I can really do it again. I will live up to my time this time!

When he was in a good mood, his steps in running circles were much lighter.

Yes, he will study music well this time!

After a month of hard training, he is still a scum.

What about a year of hard training?

Low income households don't have to go to work yet. They can concentrate on doing their own things!

And he can check the original songs at any time for comparison.

The dream came in time.