"Sadly, love is hard to let go of, holding back tears, keeping love letters. Sobriety in wounds is more painful than being unconscious, tightly closed eyes, dragging mistakes—when true love comes, how can you hold onto it?"

As she howled like a wolf, Mu Yichen’s voice gradually faded. She hugged a wine bottle to her chest, singing with exaggerated motion.

At that moment, she was not the quiet, indifferent Qin Mu; she was a Qin Mu who needed to vent, a Qin Mu in the midst of venting.

Mu Yichen gradually lost his voice, listening to her sing along with the stereo to that love letter song, and he leaned over to grab a bottle of the strongest liquor.

Soon, the staff brought some fruit and snacks. As the song ended, Qin Mu was already singing another tender song, but she was singing it in a mess.

When it came to singing, she was like a middle schooler who hadn’t graduated, awkward to the point of having no technique and not knowing how to conceal it.

She didn’t care about the staff’s gaze, since Mu Yichen was forcing her to let loose, so she wasn’t planning on sitting quietly, being tormented by Mu Yichen.

Simply put, since he didn’t call for a stop, she would keep singing.

After all these years, she had never sung so recklessly and with such indulgence.

Later, a song from Nuoding Hill started playing, and Qin Mu hugged the wine bottle and took a couple of sips. She looked at the MV on the screen with some envy. It must be said, she’d watched that movie twice, and she’d fantasized about flaunting her success, bringing Mu Yichen to various events to show affection.

But now...

She was still being showered with his lavish gifts; every moment he was gifting her this or that, values ranging from low to high, only she couldn’t keep track of it, but he could afford anything.

Mu Yichen slowly drank alcohol, finally hearing her true voice—so gentle, so devoted.

Qin Mu stood up, swaying her body gently to the music. Seeing the female lead on the screen flash a toothy smile, she couldn’t help but smile herself.

In her heart, Mu Yichen saw a sense of yearning, but he felt she didn’t have to indulge in such fantasies since his money was enough to support her extravagant lifestyle for a lifetime.

Qin Mu raised the wine bottle for another sip, lightly touching her lips to feel the cool wine taste.

The translated lyrics of this English song into Chinese go something like this: She may be the face I can’t forget, the trace of pleasure or regret, my treasure or the price I have to pay. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

These were Qin Mu’s favorite lyrics; there was also a part translated as, she may be the reason I survive, the why and wherefore I’m alive, the one I’ll care for through the rough and ready years, meadows and fields—I’ll take her laughter and her tears and make them all my souvenirs, go where she goes, my life’s meaning is her, just her!

Though the "she" in the song was female, Qin Mu heard it as "he."

She felt this song echoed her own state of mind at times; Mu Yichen was her everything. When speaking in sentimental terms, they could never be separated in this life, even if worlds apart, they must know that the other is living well.

Qin Mu sang until her voice became hoarse, then finally sat down again, still in the same spot, with his arm, his embrace always open to her.

As one grows up, it becomes apparent that later singing sessions are filled with those childhood favorites, mastered songs are only a few, and though there are many new songs that are quite good, they never leave a lasting impression.

Mu Yichen eventually put on a show, singing and dancing, like he wasn’t Mu Yichen, but a dazzling mega-star.

To be honest, as Qin Mu sat on the sofa, watching Mu Yichen flaunt in that boastful stance, he was not worse than those excellent singing and dancing artists.

(In truth, one’s own man looks good no matter what.)

As he sang that old song, Qin Mu couldn’t help but laugh, finally seeing a twinkle in her eyes.

Qin Mu chugged down another bottle of liquor, set the bottle down, stood up, shrugged off her jacket, and raised her hand: "I want to sing too!"

Mu Yichen walked over to her, his dark eyes delving deep into hers, resting his forehead against hers, holding the mic and asking in a low voice: "What do you want to sing?"

"The First Love!"

Qin Mu held the microphone too, but her voice wasn’t as seductive as his; she simply wanted to sing.

She suddenly stepped back, then kicked off her high heels, tossed them aside, and jumped onto the soft black sofa.