A band, or a battleground?

Qi Yuan replied, "Yes, a blue water lily."

Qiu Mengxue rolled her eyes at him again, and without bothering with further conversation, immediately began assigning tasks:

“Qi Yuan will sing this song, and the three of us will handle the instruments. For the chord progression, I feel 1645 is suitable. I'll use the guitar as the base. Qian Yu, keep your drums simple, just use hi-hat and rims to maintain the rhythm. Yi Yi, the bass will be synchronized with the drums to ensure a stable harmony... By the way, Qi Yuan, what are your requirements for the arrangement?”

Qiu Mengxue made the arrangements and suddenly realized that she needed to respect the ideas of the lyricist and composer.

Then the three girls all stared at him, waiting for his opinion.

Qi Yuan suddenly realized that playing in a band might actually be a good choice. If he were to do it on his own, he would definitely have to learn music first, and he didn't even know where to begin.

Unlike now, three people are eager to help, and they'll do it even if they're not paid.

Moreover, they are three beautiful girls with distinct styles.

Qi Yuan composed himself and said, "Keep it simple."

Qiu Mengxue said solemnly, "We have almost no room for rehearsal for this song, and the focus is on the lyrics and music, so I'm asking you to sing it well later. But there's another question: for that last high note, can you only use falsetto?"

Qi Yuan: "I can sing high notes if I let my voice out."

"You're going to just force it?" Qiu Mengxue cautiously suggested. "Or, I can help you with the high notes?"

"it is good."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

004 Nothing can stop it

The automatic doors of the office building slid open to both sides, letting in a sweltering evening breeze.

Lin Yan stood on the steps, raising her hand to rub her stiff neck. After a whole day of working on design drafts, her eyes were sore and dry. Her phone screen lit up; it was 8 PM. For an ordinary UI designer who had only been with the company for two and a half years, being able to leave the office at this hour was already a blessing.

On the way to the subway station, the crowd was bustling. Everyone stared blankly at their phones or wore headphones, disconnected from the world. Lin Yan was also part of this large group, but today, instead of heading straight for the subway entrance as usual, she paused at the intersection, turned around, and walked towards the shopping mall on the other side.

Yesterday, when she passed by the small square on her way home from get off work, she stopped and looked at it for twenty minutes.

There were three high school girls. One was carrying a guitar, one was holding a bass, and the other was sitting behind a makeshift drum set.

They covered several pop songs, but the drumbeats were occasionally off, and the bass rhythm was off a few times. Their faces were young, and their performance was somewhat inexperienced.

But they were laughing.

The short-haired girl playing the drums nodded vigorously as she played, her bangs swaying with each movement. The long-haired girl playing the guitar sang as she played. The girl playing the bass bit her lower lip, glancing nervously at her two companions every now and then.

That unreserved energy, that pure desire to do something well, was like a needle piercing Lin Yan's numb nerves.

At the end of yesterday's performance, the long-haired girl who played the guitar bowed to the few passersby and said loudly, "We'll be here again at this time tomorrow, please come and see us again!"

Lin Yan was standing on the periphery at the time and nodded subconsciously.

This was a small bright spot she found in her stagnant life. Going to see the little girls' performance after get off work today was a small reason to look forward to the day.

The square remained noisy.

Lin Yan bought a rice ball and a bottle of water at the convenience store and walked to the corner she had been in yesterday.

They had arrived. The instruments were back in their places, the speakers still connected. But Lin Yan took a bite of her rice ball and stopped.

There's one more person in the band.

It was a boy, wearing the same style of high school uniform, but he wasn't carrying any musical instruments. He was quite tall, with his hands in his pockets, standing in front of the microphone stand.

Lin Yan frowned slightly. This boy's demeanor was completely out of sync with the three girls. His face was gloomy, and his eyes revealed a nonchalant indifference, even a hint of ferocity. Standing there, he didn't look like a lead singer about to perform; he looked more like a street thug collecting protection money.

Were these girls being extorted by delinquent boys at school?

Lin Yan took two steps forward, her eyes fixed on the boy. If he dared to push her even slightly, she would immediately pull out her phone and call the police. After all, she was an adult and couldn't stand by and watch a young girl be bullied.

But the boy didn't make a move. He simply turned around and nodded to the long-haired guitarist.

The long-haired girl took a deep breath and plucked the strings of the piano.

An unfamiliar prelude began to play.

Lin Yan searched her memory but couldn't find a matching song. It wasn't a currently popular internet hit, nor was it one of those well-known old songs.

The guitar playing wasn't complex, just basic chord strumming. Then, the drums joined in. The short-haired girl played the edge and hi-hat, keeping a steady rhythm, without the impatience of yesterday's attempts to show off but frequent mistakes; instead, she sounded restrained and focused on stability. The bass followed suit, deep and steady, like a solid foundation.

The accompaniment provided by these three girls was completely devoid of any fancy elements. All their attention was focused on maintaining a steady rhythm.

Just then, the boy with the somewhat fierce-looking face approached the microphone.

He didn't close his eyes and bask in the glow of many lead singers, nor did he shake the microphone stand. He simply stood there, his eyes fixed on a point in the void ahead, and opened his mouth.

"Nothing can stop your yearning for freedom..."

The moment the sound came out, Lin Yan almost dropped the rice ball in her hand.

It wasn't the clear, crisp voice typical of teenagers, nor did it possess any deliberately crafted technique. There were no vocal transitions, no breathy sounds, and even the control of breathing seemed somewhat rough.

However, there was something in that sound.

Heavy, weathered.

It was like a rough stone being thrown straight into a stagnant pool.

"A life of boundless imagination..."

"Your heart is free of all attachments..."

The boy's voice echoed at the edge of the empty square. The noise from the shopping mall seemed to be blocked out by an invisible membrane at that moment.

Lin Yan stood there, forgetting to swallow the mouthful of rice in her mouth.

She looked at the boy. He clearly had the face of a sixteen or seventeen-year-old and was still wearing a school uniform, but the tone in which he sang those lyrics was like that of someone who had walked a long, dark night.

It was a weariness that didn't belong to someone his age, yet it was incredibly real.

It seemed like this kid worked overtime even longer than Lin Yan, a grown-up corporate slave.

"Through the dark years, I have also felt lost..."

Lin Yan felt as if something had hit her chest.

Dark times? Hesitation? What does a high school student know about darkness and hesitation? Shouldn't his biggest worries be his exam scores and the teachers' opinions?

But the song somehow convinced her.

The male singer's performance was completely unadorned, relying entirely on his raw voice. Some notes were delivered with a slightly dry quality, but it was precisely this dryness that made the struggle in the lyrics feel exceptionally real.

The three girls providing accompaniment continued playing intently. The long-haired girl stared down at the strings, her fingers mechanically switching chords; the short-haired girl gritted her teeth, striking the drumhead again and again, afraid of missing a beat; the bassist was even more nervous, her forehead covered in sweat.

They became the most solid foundation of the song, completely supporting the male voice.

"Only when you look down do you realize the path beneath your feet..."

Lin Yan swallowed the food in her mouth, and her eyes inexplicably felt hot.

She remembered working overtime in the office until 1 a.m. last night, and seeing the empty streets when she walked out of the building. She remembered being berated by a client the day before yesterday for a proposal that was garbage, and all she could do was nod and smile apologetically. She remembered herself when she was 22, fresh out of college, vowing to put down roots in the city and live a brilliant life.

Only then did I realize the path beneath my feet... Where does this path lead?

She takes the same subway line every day, buys coffee from the same convenience store, and does repetitive editing work. Her life is like a wound-up machine—regular and rigid.

"The world of freedom in my heart is so clear and lofty..."

The boy's voice rose sharply at this moment. It wasn't a perfect tenor; you could hear the friction at the edge of his voice, even a slight, dangerous urge to crack. He wasn't showing off his vocal range; he was screaming.

It wasn't a hysterical roar, but a power that had been pent up for a long time and was released from the chest.

It was a longing for something broader.

Lin Yan felt a chill run down her spine.

"Blooming, never fading, the blue lotus—"

The last sentence, the last three words.

The boy continued to force his way through with his true voice, but moved a little further away from the microphone to avoid making the roughness of the high notes too obvious.

At the same time, the girl playing the guitar also moved closer to the microphone and sang the last three words together in an even more ethereal voice.

The two voices, combined with the gradually fading guitar strumming and drumbeats, created a distant and ethereal atmosphere.

Like a blue flower quietly blooming high above the deserted after a period of mud and struggle.

The last guitar chord vibrated in the air before dissipating completely.

A corner of the square fell into a brief silence.

The boy took a half step back, away from the microphone, and put his hands back in his pockets. His face remained expressionless, as if he weren't the one who had just sung of life's vicissitudes.

The three girls stopped what they were doing. The long-haired girl looked up, her chest rising and falling slightly, a fine layer of sweat on her forehead. The short-haired girl gripped the drumsticks, turning her head to stare blankly at the lead singer.

Lin Yan realized what was happening.

She tucked the mineral water bottle under her armpit, raised her hands, and slapped them together forcefully.

But the next second, Lin Yan was stunned.

She discovered that she wasn't the only one clapping.

To her left, a middle-aged man in a suit with his tie half-loose was standing there looking at her, holding a briefcase in one hand and slapping it loudly with the other.

To her right and behind, a young couple who were just passing by, holding milk tea in their hands, also stopped. The boy even whistled.

Looking further out, I realized that at some point, this once secluded corner had been surrounded by more than a dozen people.

There were middle-aged women who had just finished grocery shopping, students with backpacks, and deliverymen in their uniforms. They might not know what music arrangement or chord progressions were, but their applause was genuine.

"That sounds great!" the man in the suit exclaimed.

"What's the name of this song? I've never heard of it before!" The delivery guy stood on tiptoe to look inside.

The applause gathered together, and although it wasn't overwhelming, it was enough to be awe-inspiring on such a street.

Lin Yan looked at the center of the field.

The long-haired girl playing the guitar seemed taken aback by the reaction; she looked around somewhat bewildered, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. The short-haired girl playing the drums, on the other hand, excitedly raised her drumsticks and waved them in the air.

The boy with the somewhat fierce-looking face simply glanced at the crowd, then turned his head and said something to the long-haired girl.

The distance was quite far, and with the surrounding noise, Lin Yan couldn't hear what he was saying.

But she saw the long-haired girl nod, her fingers returning to the strings. The boy, however, walked to the side and picked up paper and a pen.

Lin Yan didn't leave. She found an edge of a flower bed, sat down, and took a sip of mineral water.

She decided to go home later today.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Even 005 himself couldn't hold back anymore?

Qi Yuan did not participate in the subsequent performances.

Qiu Mengxue returned to her position as guitarist and lead vocalist, and the songs the band performed became those she co-wrote with the other two members—mediocre, unremarkable, and occasionally with some mistakes.

Unlike "Blue Lotus," which has very low requirements for the instrumental parts and whose lyrics and music are so stunning that even if you play a few wrong notes, it won't be very noticeable.

As a result, the audience's enthusiasm gradually waned.

After the band finished performing three songs, a male audience member carrying a briefcase finally couldn't help but shout, "Let that guy sing another song! If he really can't, let him sing that flower song again!"

Qiu Mengxue turned to look at Qi Yuan.

Qi Yuan sat cross-legged on the ground, still writing and drawing. Qiu Mengxue could guess that he was probably writing a song again.

Does this mean he has more than one song like "Blue Lotus"?

Qiu Mengxue strummed the guitar strings but didn't continue playing. Instead, she said into the microphone, "Everyone, please wait a moment while I ask our new lead singer."

Then she walked up to Qi Yuan.

Qi Yuan noticed the commotion, looked up and asked, "What's wrong? Are you not going to continue?"

Qiu Mengxue sighed, "They say you have to throw out a brick to attract jade, but how can you throw out jade to attract bricks? You sang a song like that, how can we possibly continue with the songs we write!"

Ning Qianyu also ran over and said, "That's right, I'm also a bit out of the mood."

Jiang Yi also came over with her bass guitar.

Qi Yuan: "Then what should we do?"