Huayu 2005: Chat groups are full of real celebrities

As for "Goodbye," the approach is different.

This song originally carried the reckless farewell feeling of youth, but it might not be suitable for Liu Yifei to sing it in that style.

Her voice isn't suited to screaming.

It's more suitable to blend those feelings of reluctance, regret, and feigned ease into the melody, singing it as if you're smiling and waving goodbye, but then you turn around, the wind blows, and your eyes start to sting.

So Jiangbei made the arrangement of "Goodbye" a bit lighter.

The guitar should be quieter, the drums more subdued, less reckless, more youthful.

He left blank spaces where they were meant to be left blank, extended the trailing notes where they were meant to be extended, and even gave her room to breathe during the half-beat pause before the chorus.

To put it bluntly, he wasn't providing accompaniment.

It's like tailoring a dress for Liu Yifei.

I had already mentally rehearsed which lines should be sung softly, which should be raised slightly, which words should be drawn out, and which should be shortened.

Soon, only the sound of keyboards and the melody playing on a loop from the simple speakers remained in the room.

The night grew deeper and deeper.

Occasionally, car headlights would sweep past the window, casting a play of light and shadow over the cramped rented room.

The ashtray on the table was empty, the instant noodle cup was tilted to one side, and the cold light from the computer screen reflected Jiang Bei's slightly tired face.

But his condition was getting better and better.

That's just how some things are.

Others need to try and work their way up repeatedly.

He doesn't need it.

All the experience and aesthetic sense accumulated in my previous life became the most handy knife at this moment.

Even broken equipment and a terrible environment couldn't suppress that almost cheating level of skill.

Before we knew it, another night had passed.

The next morning, Jiang Bei fell asleep on the sofa.

In a daze, there was a knock on the door.

With his hair all messy and eyes half-closed, he opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Liu Yifei was standing outside.

She wore a simple white short-sleeved shirt and jeans today, her hair was casually tied back, and she didn't wear much makeup, looking as clean as if she had just walked out of school.

The key is--

She came alone.

Jiang Bei glanced at her and stepped aside:

"So early?"

Liu Yifei waved the lyric book in her hand, her expression quite natural, as if the blushing and running away yesterday had never happened.

"Didn't you say we'd continue practicing today?"

"I was afraid that if I came late, you would sleep until noon again."

Jiangbei was delighted:

"Alright, if the fairy sister has spoken, I wouldn't dare to delay."

Liu Yifei rolled her eyes at him, picked up her bag, and went inside.

After entering the room, she subconsciously glanced around.

It was still that messy little rented room, with draft papers piled on the table, instant noodle cups and mineral water bottles in the corner, and Jiang Bei's jacket that he had casually tossed aside yesterday draped over the sofa.

But it was precisely this place that gave her a sense of anticipation.

Thinking about this, she felt inexplicably complicated.

Yesterday she was still worried that the eight million project was almost finalized, and Jiangbei might not really need her.

But then he thought, if he really didn't need it, why would he stay up all night to compose songs, practice with her, and tailor-make arrangements for her?

That vague unease was eventually suppressed by a stranger sense of security.

Without thinking further, she placed the lyric book on the table.

"Where's the accompaniment?"

"It's already prepared for you."

Jiang Bei didn't waste any words. He turned around, went back to his computer, opened the folder, and played the instrumental version of "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky".

As soon as the piano music started, Liu Yifei was stunned for a moment.

It's very light.

Very clean.

Like the wind blowing across the rooftop at night.

Then, the acoustic guitar and bass drum gradually fill in, the melody simple yet inexplicably captivating. Especially the sense of space, almost immediately noticeable—it's a space specifically reserved for female vocals.

Liu Yifei was initially just standing and listening, but as she listened, her expression gradually became serious.

When the chorus started playing, her eyes lit up.

Because she could clearly feel that the melody, rhythm, and even certain pauses of the accompaniment sounded as if they were being forced into her throat.

A higher floor might not be comfortable for her.

If it's too low, the taste will be worse.

But this version is just right.

It's as if someone knew in advance how she should sing, how she should breathe, and even where her emotions should fall.

After the song finished playing, the room was quiet for a few seconds.

Liu Yifei raised her head and looked towards Jiangbei, her expression changing slightly:

"Did you really make this last night?"

Jiang Bei leaned against the table and gave a lazy smile:

"Otherwise what?"

"Could it be generated automatically by AI?"

After saying that, he suddenly remembered that AI was not yet a common term in this era, so he added an explanation:

"AI stands for Artificial Intelligence, a technical term."

Liu Yifei nodded, then opened her mouth again, and after a long while, finally managed to utter a sentence:

"You made this with this beat-up computer and this beat-up keyboard?"

Jiang Bei casually tapped the keyboard, his expression incredibly calm:

"The equipment is not important."

"It's all about practice."

Liu Yifei: "..."

Her initial amazement was almost entirely wiped out by this guy's single sentence.

She tried to hold back, but couldn't, and rolled her eyes at him.

"You really can't be praised."

Jiang Bei laughed and handed her the earphones directly.

"Come on, put the praise aside and get to work."

Liu Yifei took the headphones and quickly regained her composure.

Yesterday's process of analyzing the lyrics, finding the right feeling, and repeatedly practicing the song had already given her a good grasp of the technique.

It went much more smoothly when I tried it again today.

Despite its appeal, "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky" is not the kind of song that you can easily understand by humming it a couple of times.

She still had quite a few problems after her first performance.

Either the rhythm is half a beat too early, or the emotions are too rigid, like someone is diligently completing an assignment but hasn't truly immersed themselves in the song.

Jiangbei isn't in a hurry either.

"Don't rush to lift it."

"Speak softer in the first half, not as if you're shouting, but as if you're talking to the night sky."

"Yes, don't take the phrase 'the brightest star in the night sky' too seriously. Relax and let your breath flow forward."

"Take it easy before the chorus, don't rush it, let the emotion build up little by little."

As he spoke, he would tap out a rhythm on the table. Sometimes, if he felt she wasn't getting the hang of it, he would simply hum a line himself and then have her imitate it.

Liu Yifei was not to be outdone.

If you sing it wrong, start over.

If you're in a bad mood, keep going on and on.

She was naturally intelligent and had a keen ear; with just a few words from Jiang Bei, she could quickly grasp the problem.

From awkward to smooth.

From "singing the song correctly" to gradually singing out the feeling of looking up at the night sky, as if talking to someone.

Around noon, she finally sang it all again.

This time, when the chorus came, Jiangbei was still looking down at the sheet music, but as he listened, he unconsciously stopped moving.

"The brightest star in the night sky—"

Her voice wasn't deep, and it wasn't particularly powerful.

But it is clean.

Bright.

It looks like it's been washed with water.

Especially that subtle, almost imperceptible tremor, which, when it falls into the chorus, doesn't seem weak at all; instead, it adds a kind of tenacious energy that makes you itch with desire.

It doesn't look like a show of skill.

It's more like there really is an eighteen-year-old girl, standing in the night, looking up into the distance, earnestly asking—

Are you there.

Jiang Bei looked up at her, and a very direct thought suddenly popped into his mind.

This song has found the right person.

After finishing the song, Liu Yifei took off her headphones and turned to look at him:

"How is it?"

Jiangbei didn't keep him in suspense and nodded:

"That's fine."

"We'll go into the studio tomorrow, and the samples should be ready in two days at most."

Liu Yifei's eyes lit up, and she visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"real?"

Why would I lie to you?

Jiang Bei turned to another page of the lyric book and raised his chin:

"Don't be too happy yet, there's still 'Goodbye'."

"continue."

Liu Yifei: "..."