"Singing songs? Haha, it's interesting. Does she think she is an actor? I hate listening to operas the most!"

"Yeah, my brain hurts when I hear that stuff!"

Not only the generals, but also the literati and nobles all dropped their faces in helplessness. Except for those old men, who likes to listen to these babblings?

Fu Yunche breathed a sigh of relief. Opera is better than doing nothing at all. He is afraid of being out of tune and making people laugh. Su Mengdie, I have chosen to stand by you at this moment. You have to fight for the Su family. For this

South Vietnam wants to win. In fact, you don’t have to do anything now. Those people have already made a decision. Why bother?

Su Mengdie held up the guitar. She didn't teach the musicians much. She just played a song to them briefly. At that time, everyone shook their heads. Yes, the song, song, and background music of the song were not sung, which was a bit weird.

, his eyes glanced at the anxious father, and when the old man saw that he was looking at him, he immediately gave a relieved smile, as if to say, no matter what, you are my daughter, and then looked at Mengli and others, they were all very kind.

He was looking at her. In fact, she was not alone. Even Fu Yunche gave her a smile.

He glanced at Wan Qi Shen Feng from the corner of his eye. He really believed in her, as if she would definitely win. Su Mengdie, don't be nervous. You must not be nervous. Even if you make a fool of yourself, no one here will know you. Back to modern times,

No one will laugh at you, so when you think about it, there is no pressure at all: "This song contains too much, but the overall meaning is only one!"

"Stop talking and sing, we're all waiting!"

"Stop being too pretentious!"

Doesn’t it bother you that rude people slam the table with dissatisfaction?

Su Mengdie swallowed her saliva and took a step forward, as if she was facing countless flashing lights. She closed her eyes and brewed her feelings. She recalled that when she was in school, she stood on the stage and attracted everyone's attention. When the old man participated in her performance for the first time, he raised his head.

With his little hand, he snapped his fingers, and a soft music suddenly sounded. Not everyone recognized it, but when the strange sound of the instrument came out, everyone became quiet, opened their red lips, and sang slightly with the singing.

Changing his expression, he lowered his head and looked at the strings: "On the palm of my hand, the eternal moonlight

That injury, the desolation that passed away with a smile

Looking up, you stand there

It's your madness that was born as a dragon

Remember your name is Yanhuang!"

The singing voice is rather neutral, neither male nor female, but extremely pleasant to the ear. It is a melody and words that are unfamiliar to everyone. Fu Yunche's breath froze, and his eyes were locked on the one who at that time looked up at the crowd and sometimes lowered his head to stare at the strings.

Woman, is this a music score written by herself? The words and sentences are good, and every word contains meaning. What's even more rare is the touching singing voice.

It turned out that Qu'er could still sing like this. There was admiration, surprise, astonishment, and disbelief in Feng's eyes. His whole body was integrated into her singing. At this moment, he seemed to only see her, a woman who was not beautiful or fragrant.

woman.

Remember your name is Yanhuang... Wanqi Shenfeng raised the corners of her lips. Is she admonishing people that the world belongs to one family? Don't start a war? After just a few words, I heard the mystery.

Yu Ruolin's pupils were also wide open, with fear written in them. He seemed to see ten cities gone...

In fact, Su Mengdie didn't look at anyone. She knew that everyone had been attracted. She spread her legs wide, her left thigh arched the piano body, her upper body leaned back slightly, and continued to sing with a sad expression: "On the beacon, on the battlefield.

setting sun

Beside the broken blade, time flows quietly

Twelve chapters, you pay tribute from a distance and look around

The Yellow River and the Yangtze River with rushing blood

It’s your innate arrogance

Wind and rain have worn away the red walls and green tiles

The painting leaves behind the yellow flowers of tomorrow
Chapter completed!