I did one thing to the extreme

Chapter 134
It's been two full days.

Every morning there will be a sharp donkey braying from afar.

What happened to this donkey?Why is it screaming so terribly?

Standing on the balcony, Lu Fangfang looked at the solar water heater on the roof opposite with two thick panda eyes, and couldn't help asking, "Have you called enough?".

"Son. Son"

The donkey in the distance responded to her with a bark, as if two old friends were chatting, and at the same time, indirectly conducted the first "cross-race dialogue" in history.

Lu Fangfang's panda's eyes were red with redness. She turned around slowly and walked to the bedside. She performed a Thomas roundabout jump, her body turned 180 degrees in the air, hit the soft mattress heavily, and bounced back a few times.

Suddenly, a growl of gritted teeth sounded, "I killed you stupid ass!".

"Son. Son"

The donkey was still like an old friend, sitting on the soft sofa, smiling, drinking tea, and chatting with her about recent interesting things.

Lu Fangfang collapsed completely, ran to the bathroom, washed up hastily, got dressed, took her mobile phone and keys, went out, looked for donkeys, and killed donkeys.

In the small park with a beautiful environment, Wang Liang held up the suona and played it with enthusiasm. Up to now, he has explored 108 kinds of donkey braying sounds. No one knows donkey braying better than him, even the linguists of the donkey tribe have met him. , You have to call "teacher".

After these few days of hard practice, he feels that he has the potential to be a musical instrument performance artist.

Some people may think that he is bragging, but in fact he is not. What is the most important thing to be an instrumental artist?Some would say "talent", others would say "love", and still others would say "perseverance".

These are just the basic conditions, what is the most important thing?
emotion!

Every time you play, you must devote yourself wholeheartedly to it, use your heart and emotion, just like now, don’t look at it as a simple donkey bray, which contains Wang Liang’s perception of life, Fighting against fate, thinking about the universe.
Not worse than Beethoven's Symphony of Destiny.

"Hey! Stop blowing!"

A discordant sound suddenly appeared, interrupting Wang Liang's wonderful performance.

"It turned out to be you. I thought someone was mistreating the donkey, which caused me to scream every morning. I beg you, I beg you, stop blowing it up and leave me a way to survive. Now I can dream of miserable things every night. The donkey brayed, and then woke up in fright!"

These words were like a blue-fired machine gun, "Da da da, da da da", Wang Liang was stunned when he hit him. Looking at this slovenly young lady with a haggard complexion, he said, "You have a lump of nose in your clothes." shit!".

"what?"

Lu Fangfang looked down and saw that there was really some. It was yellow in color and thick. It must have been thrown off by the bald old man with a waking nose who passed by just now. I went to a small shop to buy a pack of wet wipes, and when I came back to talk about the donkey braying, a pack of wet wipes suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. The hands holding the wet wipes were white and clean, with slender fingers, and they were pretty good-looking.

"Thank you!"

I took the wet wipes, endured the nausea, wiped them, and just threw the wet wipes into the trash can when the nightmarish donkey braying started again.

"Handsome guy, can you play it in another place, it's really ugly!"

Change?
It is impossible to change, and it is impossible to change in this life. Wang Liang found that only blowing in the park will blow for 1 minute, and a progress bar will increase. If blowing at home, blowing for 10 minutes will increase by one. What principle.

It seems to be related to the number of listeners. Go to a crowded place tomorrow and try.

Putting down the suona, said with a smile: "This beauty, I am a real art, as long as you calm down and listen carefully, you will find the beauty in it!".

As soon as the words came out, the surrounding uncles and aunts couldn't bear it anymore, gathered around and said in one go:

"Little young man, go elsewhere to perform art, we really can't appreciate your art"

"Auntie will give you one hundred, you go to the Internet cafe to play games for a while, don't play suona, ah!"

"I don't need you to appear now, when I die, I will definitely ask my son to pay you to perform"

Listening to the words of the grandpa and aunt, Wang Liang complained secretly: "I call it art! Art! Do you understand? It is true that in ancient times there was a pair of cows playing the piano, and today there is a suona playing to the grandpa and aunt. It is impossible to communicate with each other."

Suddenly, an old man with a stooped body walked out of the crowd, took off the suona pinned to his waist, and said: "That's not how the suona is played, listen carefully", and as he spoke, he raised the suona, and a loud and sad tune sounded. Bring Wang Liang to the funeral scene.

All he needs is a coffin for him to lie in and listen to.

The uncles and aunts at the scene stopped talking, their eyes were full of fear, probably because they were afraid of sending them away.

As soon as the sad tune was changed, it suddenly became cheerful. Sometimes, it seemed to be the cheerful cry of a bird.

"it is good!"

"It's been years since I've heard a hundred birds chasing a phoenix, good!"

"it is good"

The constant applause at the scene made Wang Liang have to admit that his blowing was indeed a little bit bad.

After playing the song, the old man blushed and panted and said, "I'm old! When I was young, I played all night without stopping."

"Iron lung Hu Youfu?" Someone recognized the old man.

"It turned out to be Hu Youfu, my great-grandfather invited you when he died."

Wang Liang has also heard of Hu Youfu, the most famous drummer in this area of ​​Jincha City—the folks in the Northwest call it, and people who play suona, drums, and sheng, etc., who often appear in red and white events, are collectively called drum maker.

His grandfather often said that when he died, he must invite Hu Youfu to play a few paragraphs, and he was happy to leave.

It is said that Hu Youfu was born in the old society and had no parents since he was a child. The drummer team thought he was pitiful and took him in. He started playing the suona when he was seven or eight years old. The highest record, even playing for seven days without stopping.

There must be exaggeration in these rumors, otherwise they would not spread, just like the headline party on the Internet, which shocked 14 billion people at every turn. It seems that the people of Longguo do nothing and are shocked every day, but this can also be explained from the side , Hu Youfu does have some skills.

Hu Youfu held his fists together, said some polite words, then turned around and said, "In this day and age, there are still young people who like suona. All western music".

Speaking of this, looking at the suona in his hand, he sighed heavily, and then said: "The times are advancing, and we old things are destined to be eliminated, but it is a pity that the tunes passed down by our ancestors."

A dry hand covered with age spots fumbled for the suona on his waist.

A heavy sigh sounded again.

A shriveled, rickety body slowly moved to the distance.

A gust of wind blows, and a few white hairs fall from the temples.

"Wait!"

　The author's small diary: I actually suffered from insomnia yesterday, and now I am so sleepy, but I have to code words again, so difficult! ! !

　　
　
(End of this chapter)