Sheng Qingxue sat in front of the piano.
Then, the prelude began to play.
Once the first note started, everything seemed unstoppable, the atmosphere crazy heightened, passionate and fiery.
So many memories were frantically unfolding in his mind.
His youth.
His youthful days.
The dream he thought would never come true again.
All along, he had been pretending not to care, pretending that everything was over, pretending that these things no longer mattered.
But at this moment, he realized that he still hadn't forgotten.
Hadn't forgotten such youthful days, such reckless times.
He realized he so badly wanted to pick up his electric bass and sing his heart out to the world!
He forgot, how many songs they sang that night, how many tunes they played, as if to piece together their youthful days without any regrets.
The audience grew, everyone was so supportive, that day's Ten Miles of Red Makeup was more lively than ever.
Some people cried as they listened.
