Before the prelude of Qing Tian began, Pei Muchan glimpsed him pressing the C chord with his left hand and was already somewhat bewildered.

"4323, 5323."

The two measures of melody were clear and bright, like pouring a can of ice beer into the oppressive heat of summer. But before Pei Muchan could collect her thoughts, the melody abruptly ended.

"Is that it?" she asked, startled.

Xu Qingyan looked up at her, "I don't know what comes next."

He had songs in his head, but no sheet music; he could differentiate the correct melody and sing on pitch, but he couldn't play a bit.

"Have you... learned guitar before?"

"Messed around with it following some videos for a while, didn't keep up with it for more than a few days."

"No wonder." Pei Muchan nodded, "You have a bit of a foundation, remember a few simple chords, and can understand some music theory, so teaching you will be much easier."

"I have melodies in my head, but I can't play them," he said.

Hearing this, Pei Muchan hesitated for a moment before saying.

"Well... some people are naturally sensitive to melodies. Even if they've never touched music, don't understand music theory, but their minds have a strong sense of perceiving and distinguishing melodies."

"These people have a better musical sense, simply put, they can recreate melodies they've heard."

"If I have a melody in my mind and want to write my own song," guessed Xu Qingyan, thinking it was about time, he put down the guitar, "how long would I need to study?"

"After systematic learning, it might take about half a year to a year," Pei Muchan explained patiently.

"That long!"

"You're in too much of a hurry!" she said, touching her forehead, and seeing Xu Qingyan's furrowed brow, she couldn't resist adding, "Actually, there's another way."

"What is it?"

"You sing the melody, let a professional help you write it out."

"Alright."

"Huh? Why are you... looking at me like that?"

Both were free at nine o'clock.

In the show, the other guests would choose to go downstairs for a relay live stream as a way to boost their popularity. Xu Qingyan couldn't be bothered, and as for Pei Muchan, she didn't need the popularity; she was already number one.

But then again, no matter how stunning an intro is, it wouldn't leave a lasting impression on her. Xu Qingyan knew Pei Muchan was simply humoring his whims.

Their relationship, if called friendship, seemed perhaps premature, with only a couple of days since they met and grew closer. There was some ambiguity, yes, but over time it got twisted with friendship.

Confidants? Even less so. Xu Qingyan had a song library but wasn't overly passionate about music. He had no dreams of music, he did it purely for money.

As for romance? He might as well watch an episode of "Wisdom Tree" at eight to clear his mind.

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Some things are better left unsaid by both parties, keeping everyone happy. If you take it seriously and the other doesn't, then you're the clown.

Yes, I'm talking about ambiguity.

Ambiguity is like blowing a gorgeous, colorful bubble in a certain period. Once the novelty wears off, forget about falling deeply in love—it'd be a miracle if you could still be friends.

Xu Qingyan firmly believed that the wise are not those who never fall in love, but those who avoid becoming clowns.

The goddess, forlorn for a moment, squatting by a small roadside ditch telling you that with you, anywhere is a vista of mountains and seas. Once she regains her spirit, what she desires is still the stars and the sea.

Not the evergreen from the land of sycophants, the pillar in "Joker," the mascot of McDonald's, or the big boss of Gotham City. The one who takes it seriously is the best clown.

When the ambiguity fades, you say "Wishing you great fortune and prosperity" during New Year's, and she replies, "I'll take your kind words,"—a sentence even a dog wouldn't respond to. You say after the Winter Solstice there's still Christmas and New Year's Day, two more chances to connect, even dogs would shake their heads at that.

Back at the Love Cottage, almost everyone was in the living room.

Song Enya and Bai Jinze, who'd been away all day, were also there, sitting on the same sofa, talking and laughing. When they saw Pei and Xu enter, both had a momentary pause in their expressions.

Shen Jinyue wasn't there; it was unknown where she'd gone.

You Zijun was chatting with Chen Feiyu, and Nian Shuyu seemed to be absent as well. Liu Renzhi, left by himself, sat in a corner on the sofa, pretending to play with his phone, looking somewhat awkward.

When Pei Xu entered side by side, Liu Renzhi actually stood up.

Bai Jinze, noticing this from the corner of his eye—he knew Liu Renzhi liked Pei Muchan—thought there might be a good show and couldn't help but smile.

To his surprise, Liu Renzhi, who had been alone all day, didn't approach Pei Muchan for a chat. Instead, he walked over to Xu Qingyan, squared his shoulders, and called out.

"Brother Xu, did your photo shoot go smoothly?"

Bai Jinze's expression froze in an instant. He didn't even have time to respond to Song Enya's words, turning his head in disbelief to look at the trio.