I don’t know if it’s because of this, he suddenly wanted to laugh, just like he talked about the fight in Gu Fei’s store that day, and now he wants to smile foolishly.

"I..." He turned his head and looked at Gu Fei.

Gu Fei took a sip of the soup, looked at him, then turned his head open, and then sprayed all the soup out.

With this squirting, their silly smirk switch turned on.

Jiang Cheng smiled so much that he couldn't even hold the chopsticks. The chopsticks fell on the table. He wanted to put them, but the chopsticks rolled to the ground again. He laughed and reached out to pick them up, picked up a small wooden stick and put them on the edge of the bowl.

Gu Fei held the bowl and saw the small wooden stick, and smiled so much that half of the soup in the bowl could spill out.

"I can't do it anymore," Jiang Cheng smiled and pressed the wound on his ribs with his hands. "I am a wounded man, so I can't smile like this..."

Gu Fei didn't say anything, leaned against the wall behind him, continued to laugh for a while, and finally sighed: "I almost couldn't get up."

After laughing, Jiang Cheng felt that the wind was pouring in with the window open, and he occasionally felt a little cold on his back, but now he was sweating behind him.

"Oh," Jiang Cheng took out his pockets, trying to find some paper to wipe his mouth, but he couldn't touch it for a long time, "I'm so tired."

"Finding paper?" Gu Fei pointed to the table behind him, "There is there."

Jiang Cheng turned around and there were rolls of paper on the broken table behind him.

He reached out and took a roll, and a piece of paper that was taken from the table fell at his feet.

When he picked it up and wanted to put it back, he stopped again, staring at the thing on the paper.

This kraft paper with the stitching mark was torn off from the stitching marking book. He was very familiar with this paper. His favorite is this kraft paper colored stitching book.

There is nothing strange about a piece of paper with five-line notes. A poor student like Gu Fei might have bought it as an English book...

But what surprised him was that the paper was written.

Most of the page's score.

"Fuck," Jiang Cheng blinked, held the edge of the table with his hand, and tried to align the ghosts in front of him, and then hummed a few words, "It sounds nice, what song?"

Gu Fei still leaned against the wall, stared at him for a while before saying, "Do you still know the principles?"

"Nonsense," Jiang Cheng leaned back with the score, leaned against the table legs, and looked down, "We academic masters, can do everything... Who wrote this song?"

Gu Fei didn't say anything.

Jiang Cheng looked at him for a while, looked up at him, and pointed at him with his finger: "Did you write it?"

"Huh?" Gu Fei took a sip of wine, "Why is it me? Do you think I look like a person who can write music?"

"It's not like it, but..." Jiang Cheng played the paper, "But this tune, look at this b, it's the same as what you wrote, with a piece of it growing on the bottom, like a one-handed hip."

"What the hell?" Gu Fei smiled.

"Did you write it? Or did you copy it for someone?" Jiang Cheng shook at him while holding the paper, and hummed a few more words, "It sounds pretty."

"Academic masters are academic masters. You can still remember this when you learn the 5-line score. Gu Fei did not answer his words.

"Damn, underestimate our academic masters," Jiang Cheng stood up and slapped the paper on the table. He felt that he was probably really happy at this moment. He was very excited and spoke with wind, "I'll open my eyes to you."

"Do you want to sing?" Gu Fei was also very interested and stood up and leaned against the wall to applaud him.

"Wait," Jiang Cheng took his schoolbag on the sofa, "I don't remember if I brought it with me... I usually carry it with me... Oh, here."

Gu Fei watched Jiang Cheng rummaging in his schoolbag for a long time, and pulled out a translucent slender plastic box, flute?

Jiang Cheng knew the score and could hum it immediately when he was surprised. People like Jiang Cheng, even if Lao Xu said he was a top student, he probably wouldn't believe it if he didn't get his grades. Fighting is a strength, so it's not surprising that he can play basketball. Knowing the score is a real surprise.

Just like myself, even if he wrote the composition on Gu Fei, the unfamiliar people thought that he had beaten the composition and robbed it.

Jiang Cheng must be excited to drink. A cup of wine is about two and a half. Jiang Cheng's cup is empty. For people who don't drink often, eating at a speed of two and a half is almost the same virtue.

"Is the flute? It's so thin." Gu Fei looked at the slender black metal tube in his hand.

"Well, the whistle," Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. "I like the Irish whistle, but I don't blow it very much in normal times, and I didn't blow it at home before."

"Why?" Gu Fei asked.

"Because I'm not as good as the piano," Jiang Cheng smiled, "My mother... I don't like it anyway, and she says it's noisy. She likes the piano."

"You still know how to play the piano?" Gu Fei looked at Jiang Cheng's hand. He didn't pay attention. At this moment, Jiang Cheng's fingers were pressed on the flute's vent. It was quite long, and the knuckles on the thin fingers were clear but not abrupt.

"Yes, do you want to kneel down? I see there is a cushion on the sofa, please take it over," Jiang Cheng pointed to the ground in front of him, "Just kneel here."

Gu Fei laughed, touched a cigarette and lit it.

He felt that he had never heard of the whistle whistle before, but after Jiang Cheng blew a short passage, he realized that for a while, Ding Zhuxin liked Celtic music very much, listened all day long, and there should be whistle whistle whistle in it.

He didn't know what Jiang Cheng was hyping, but he sounded very familiar.

I just sighed that Jiang Cheng didn't expect that Jiang Cheng would still play with this, and he blew very well, his fingers flexibly on the vent... Jiang Cheng suddenly stopped, turned his head and coughed twice: "Sorry, start over."

Gu Fei had to clap his arms again.

Jiang Cheng glanced at him, put the flute back to his mouth, lowered his eyes, and the notes slid out again as his fingers thrust.

This is the first time Gu Fei heard someone playing the flute in front of him, and he felt indescribable.

The discomfort and irritability that Jiang Cheng often had on his face disappeared when the first note jumped out, and his gently trembling eyelashes looked quiet and calm.
Chapter completed!