Chinese people love traditions and celebrations. As the highest university in the world, ZU’s annual New Year’s Day Art Festival naturally attracts much attention. However, this year is the largest and most prestigious in the past five years. Almost all the big names in the literary and art circles have been invited to attend.
Come.
On New Year's Day, before the opening of the art festival, Qin Yan finally showed up at school, but his left hand was hung with a bandage around his neck, which was particularly incongruous with his handsome face. It seemed a bit funny and attracted people's attention along the way.
He came backstage to look for Mo Yan, but because their dance was scheduled for the finale, Qin Yan pulled her to the corner before it was her turn to put on makeup and change clothes.
He hadn't seen Mo Yan for almost a week, and Qin Yan relied on the two of them every day to chat on WeChat, which almost cost him half his life.
Seeing the real person at this moment, he used up all his reason to control himself not to hold her in his arms, but he held her hand for a long time without letting go. There were countless longings in his pair of bright peach blossom eyes, "Yanyan!"
"Why is your hand injured? Is it serious?" Mo Yan glanced at his left arm, bit his lip until it turned white, and then looked at him intently, with real worry in his almond-shaped eyes. It was no longer the same as before.
The coldness and alienation.
Qin Yan felt the changes in the ink smoke, and his heart was like fireworks that began to bloom in the night sky, extremely gorgeous; the melancholy of longing was completely eliminated at this moment.
"It's not serious. There is something wrong with the project over there. I just had a small accident when I was giving advice to others. It will be fine in a few days." He shook his left arm to prove that what he said was true, with a happy smile on his face.
With Mo Yan's concern, everything is worth it.
Mo Yan raised her chin at him, looked at the evidence on her left hand, and said slowly, "You are already in a plaster. It will take a hundred days to break your muscles and bones. How many days will it take for you to recover?"
"Oh, this is Xu Qian making a fuss. There is only a little bone fracture and she insists on me putting on a cast. Don't worry, I'm really fine. Yanyan cares about me so much. I'm so happy. She would be even happier if she could give me a hug.
Being in a good mood makes you feel better faster!”
Qin Yan leaned against the wall, looking down at the ink smoke beside him. The dim light printed on her pink lips was extremely tempting, but he was still desperate for survival, so he replaced "kiss" with "kiss".
The word "hug" was added.
Then he curled his lips casually, stretched out his right arm, opened his arms and waited for Mo Yan.
Mo Yan pulled his hand down, took a step back, suppressed his smile, and said seriously, "In ancient times, you would be treated as a deceiver and beaten out with sticks if you behaved like this."
As soon as he finished speaking, he heard Qingtian shouting not far away, "Xiao Yan'er, it's your turn to put on makeup."
"Okay, come right away." Mo Yan turned around and said goodbye, then said goodbye to Qin Yan and strode away, "I'll go over first, bye."
"Okay, Yanyan, I will wait for you obediently." Seeing this, Qin Yan deliberately shouted shamelessly behind her.
Sure enough, everyone in the backstage turned around after hearing the sound, paying attention with a full sense of ritual. The tips of Mo Yan's ears felt hot, so he had to lower his head and speed up his pace, quickly escaping from the place of right and wrong.
This guy is really a slut everywhere.
Three and a half hours after the official start of the art festival, it slowly came to an end, and finally the "Dunhuang Feitian Dance" came on stage.
On the stage, the crescent moon spring is filled with smoke as a water curtain. Mo Yan is wearing a water-green embroidered silver garden skirt. She is sitting by the spring with a konghou in her arms. I don’t know whether the scenery is more beautiful or the person is more beautiful; her fingers are like rubbing pancreas.
Playing the strings, the clear and ethereal sound slowly came out, attracting the attention of everyone present.