Entertainment: I, Mr. Deyun Da

　　The interview is over.

　　He was waiting outside the stage door with his guitar in hand.

　　Then, the second-to-last Jiang Shan performed and sat on the throne of the singer, and a lively show came to an end.

　　The door was opened, and the director signaled that Wu Shaobai could start.

　　……

　　The velvet curtain was pulled up again.

　　The stage was dark.

　　Only vaguely could see a person sitting in the middle of the stage.

　　It's Mr. Wu!

　　301 spectators, including the judges, immediately came to the spirit.

　　At this time, everyone heard the sound of paper rubbing against paper.

　　"??"

　　Before I could wonder what the sound was, suddenly, a small flame lit up on the stage.

　　"Clap."

　 　Then came the sound of breathing:

　　"Hush~~~hh~~"

　　With the sound of breathing, the stage lights suddenly turned on.

　　Everyone saw that in a burst of smoke that had not yet dissipated, Mr. Wu took off the cigarette that was burning in his mouth.

　　Next to the cigarette is a table with a glass of... wine?

　　"...????"

　　The audience's original desire to cheer immediately fell silent.

　　Then, Mr. Wu, who was sitting at the table, did not continue to smoke, but inserted the cigarette directly into the gap between the strings on the top of the guitar.

　　The cigarette was inserted into the top of the guitar, Mr. Wu looked soft and calm, holding the pick, plucking the strings like no one else.

　　"Ding ding dong dong..."

　　For some reason, the applause that originally wanted to start again, accompanied by his actions...

　　Completely disappeared without a trace. .

Chapter 1764

　　"Ding Ding Dong Dong ~ Ding Ding Dong Dong ~"

　　After the four rhythms, the sound of sand hammers and African drums sounded at the same time.

　　Sitting on a chair, Wu Shaobai's guitar sound suddenly stopped amid the smoke of cigarettes.

　　The drum kit and sand hammer also quieted down at the same time.

　　As if something felt wrong.

　　"???"

　　"what's the situation?"

　　"Show accident?"

　　Before everyone could talk to each other, the idea simply popped out of his mind when he saw Wu Shaobai put down the pick and picked up the wine glass.

　　Half a glass of beer with foam, he just took a small sip.

　　Then casually put the cup aside and picked up the guitar pick again.

　　With the first fiddle, a hoarse voice followed the drums, sand hammers, and piano sounds:

　　"Whose father~ is dead."

　　He closed his eyes.

　　"Please tell me how to be sad."

　　"Whose lover~ is gone."

　　"Please tell me how to forget."

　　"Hey YEAH~~~"

　　"Hey YEAH~~~~"

　　There is no dazzling element.

　　There is no deliberate use of smoke.

　　Unremarkable, Mr. Wu's own voice.

　　But that 29 tone is no longer as loud as it used to be.

　　Some are just a touch of hoarseness, and... that can be perceived by everyone, an emotion contained in the hoarseness.

　　That emotion... is called sadness.

　　It quickly infected everyone's hearts.

　　In this performance, in the previous performance, someone sang the domineering "Farewell My Concubine".

　　Someone sang "Blooming Life", which represents life.

　　Others sang the inspirational "Ordinary Road".

　　Someone even brought everyone the elegant "The Phantom of the Opera".

　　The audience heard many, many things.

　　Feeling a lot of different emotions.

　　However, there was no song that he sang quietly on the stage as he is now.

　　Through sound, all emotions are wrapped up and transmitted to everyone's ears.

　　Even some people with good eyes can see the cigarette ashes from the cigarette burnt out under Mr. Wu's chord fiddling.

　　Some soot even fell into Mr. Wu's hands.

　　However, he still closed his eyes, unaware.

　　"We are born alone."

　　"We were born alone~"

　　"Whatever you have~"

　　"We were born alone..."

　　Mr. Wu... Are you paying homage?

　　Look at that cigarette.

　　Look at the plain black suit he was wearing.

　　He looked at the glass of wine he had drunk on the table.

　　He...is a non-smoker.

　　Because smoking will ruin his throat.

　　He is also very poor in drinking, and many people talk about it.

　　Some people even say that Mr. Wu's alcohol consumption can be used as a unit of measurement.

　　For example, if you can drink two Wu Shaobai, then you are really weak.

　　You can drink ten Wu Shaobai, oh, that's a huge amount for you.

　　but……

　　Look at the man singing on stage.

　　Countless viewers not only burst out with a question from the bottom of their hearts.

　　What kind of sadness makes a person light a cigarette that he will never touch in his life.

　　What kind of sadness made him drink that sip of wine willingly?

　　"Hey YEAH~~~~~~"

　　"Hey YEAH~~~~~~..."

　　Simple lyrics.

　　Extremely simple.

　　The song composed of a few lyrics was narrated in his mouth in an ordinary tone.

　　"Let me take a look at you."

　　"Starry sky, and night!"

　　"The flying birds that go west."

　　"We are born alone~"

　　"Hey YEAH~~~YEAH..."

　　"Hey YEAH...YEAH~~"

　　After looping the chorus twice, Wu Shaobai's singing stopped.

　　Drums and sand hammers all disappeared.

　　Only he was fiddling with the strings.