Chapter 64: What’s Wrong With You All?

Is this song, “Friends,” written about us? The composer, Wu Wei, felt a surge of excitement in his heart.

Jabe really is a person of true character… The lyricist, Sun Bing, flushed from drinking, looked at Li He with warmth in his eyes.

Li He stood at the center of attention, head bowed, deep in thought. Everyone in Group F believed he was perfecting a sudden flash of inspiration.

Only Li He himself knew that he was desperately trying to recall the lyrics.

He had loved the song “Friends” sung by Zhou Huajian in his previous life—often humming a few lines when he had nothing to do—but to remember the entire lyrics and sing them all would be a bit of a stretch.

Yet, the most impactful lines of a song you listen to often are easy to remember.

All Li He needed was to recollect those few lines that had been branded into his memory.

A minute later.

Following the rhythm he remembered, Li He clapped his hands.

“These years alone,
Through wind and rain,
There were tears and mistakes,
Still remember what you insisted on,
Only after true love do you understand,
There’s loneliness, there’s looking back…”

The moment Li He started singing, everyone was stunned.

They knew Jabe was a prolific songwriter, but they never heard he could sing so well.

Songwriters might not have a singer’s vocal prowess, but to claim they aren’t musical would be sheer nonsense. Their understanding of music, their grasp of theory, far surpasses artists of the same level—otherwise, they couldn’t write songs that resonate with listeners.

Of course, mindless pop tunes don’t count.

“Jabe really is a songwriter, not just a singer—his voice is outstanding, and combined with his striking appearance, he leaves those so-called pop idols far behind.” Wu Wei’s face was filled with awe.

Jabe’s voice, so rich with stories, was utterly dazzling.

How can other singers compete with that?

Though everyone was still clapping, they were no longer following Li He’s rhythm, but rather the rhythm of the song itself.

“There are always dreams, with you in my heart,
Friends walk together for a lifetime,
Those days are gone,
One word, a lifetime,
One love, one drink…”

After hearing this passage, everyone trembled.

All of them were songwriters who had written many songs; they could instantly judge the quality of a piece. These few lines elevated the song to a new height.

Wu Wei nearly burst into tears.

While persuading him to drink, he’d told Jabe, “Once we drink, we’re brothers.”

It was just a phrase—a polite gesture. How could someone truly open their heart and become brothers after just one day?

But now, Wu Wei realized he was wrong—very wrong.

He’d thought it was just a social nicety, but Jabe took it to heart.

Friends walk together for a lifetime… The weight Jabe placed on friendship was immense, far greater than his own.

“To know Jabe and to become his friend is my honor,” one songwriter was moved by the lyrics’ tribute to friendship.

“Jabe doesn’t write songs with his hands, but with his heart,” another songwriter said, sincerely.

“Friends are never lonely,
One word—friend—you’ll understand,
There’s still pain, still wounds,
Still a journey, and still me.”

Wu Wei murmured, “I understand.”

If in my life I can be friends with Jabe, I have no regrets… An old-school songwriter thought to himself.

Unconsciously, everyone’s clapping grew heavier; their hands reddened without their realizing it.

All were deeply moved by the song’s depiction of friendship.

Most importantly, Li He’s singing was impressive, his voice unique, drawing everyone into the musical world he painted.

The line, “Friends are never lonely, one word—friend—you’ll understand,” completely ignited everyone’s emotions.

Nowadays, who dares claim to have a confidant?

Society is racing forward, material wealth ballooning, but relationships between people have grown fragile.

When all is said and done, there’s not even a friend left with whom you can share your deepest thoughts.

Behind the Group F songwriters stood hotel staff.

Their eyes were wet, their hearts stirred.

Many were migrant workers from distant rural towns, far from home, alone.

Wang Peng was a simple waiter in the restaurant, from a remote village in Lu Province.

Life in the countryside lagged far behind the cities in many ways, but in one thing, the city could never compare:

Human relationships.

Wang Peng had dropped out of middle school to work in Qing City. Back home, he had a childhood friend—a brother. But since he left, their contact had dwindled. The busy work of a waiter had drained all his energy.

At this moment.

Wang Peng, eyes red, dialed the number of that childhood companion.

This song awakened memories of old friends in so many people.

Friends who once talked about everything, now no longer in touch.

Everyone’s emotions erupted; a few older songwriters couldn’t control themselves and tears streamed down their faces.

Then, the next moment.

Li He, who had just been singing with deep emotion, suddenly shook his head and stomped his foot.

Someone instinctively asked, “Jabe, why did you stop singing?”

Li He said regretfully, “That’s all I remember—no more inspiration for the rest.”

He spoke with genuine sincerity.

Everyone was stunned for a full minute before realizing what he meant by “That’s all I remember.”

This inspiration couldn’t have run out at a more awkward time.

Are you still playing us… Wu Wei, not ready to give up, asked, “Why not think again—maybe the inspiration hasn’t gone far?”

What kind of inspiration is that?

“Really, there’s nothing left—not a drop.” Li He replied innocently.

It’s not that I don’t want to keep singing, I just only remember these lines.

Really.

I, Li, have never lied… Li He said this with a clear conscience, calm and composed.

Damn it.

Everyone was on the verge of collapse.

Especially those older songwriters who’d been moved to tears; at this moment, they wished they could kick Jabe back to Spring City.

If you couldn’t finish the song, why sing it at all? Wouldn’t writing it down have been better?

Though frustrated, there was nothing they could say.

They were all songwriters—getting a flash of inspiration but not being able to complete a song was perfectly normal.

It was maddening.

Li He felt awkward as well—after all, they were colleagues, constantly seeing each other.

To make up for it, Li He called out, “Come on, let’s eat.”

They had spent the evening drinking and urging drinks; the main courses had hardly been touched.

After singing half of “Friends,” Li He was hungry.

At that moment.

Everyone felt even more frustrated.

Eat? Their hearts were so stuffed, they had no appetite at all. They couldn’t even drink water without it catching in their throats.

But not eating wasn’t an option—they had come for the meal, a feast out of the pocket of the head of the songwriting department.

The more they thought about it, the more stifled they felt. Watching Li He eat heartily only made them angrier.

In the end, the welcome banquet really became just a “welcome banquet.”

When they went to Zhang Yang to settle the bill the next day, Zhang Yang was puzzled.

What exactly did you eat yesterday to spend so little?

Dozens of people ate less than five.

That was too strange.

She called Li He in, asking how the food was yesterday—was it to his liking?

She suspected that Old Qin was too stingy and hadn’t treated Li He well; otherwise, how could dozens of people eat less than five?

Li He replied honestly, “My colleagues barely ate—maybe they wanted to save you money, Sister Yang.”

His answer only confused the cool, elegant Zhang Yang further.

Old Qin showed up at the company the next day, still a bit out of sorts.

He’d been forced to drink so much the night before that his stomach was unsettled.

“These people are animals—forcing me to drink alone,” Old Qin grumbled inwardly. “Is that how you treat a superior?”

He headed to Group F’s work area, ready to scold them for their unsporting, endless rounds of drinking.

But when he arrived, he found all of Group F’s songwriters listless, with dark circles under their eyes, as if they’d spent the night in wild excess.

What’s going on?

They looked even worse than he did.

At that moment.

Li He returned from Zhang Yang’s office, and Old Qin caught the cheerful Li He, asking, “After I passed out last night, what did you all do? Why do they all look like they didn’t sleep?”

Thinking for a moment, Li He replied seriously, “Maybe they had too much fun last night—got home and couldn’t wind down, so they couldn’t sleep.”

Is that so? Something feels off.

Old Qin gave Li He a doubtful look.

“Why are you fine?” Old Qin asked.

Everyone was up all night—except you. Who would believe that?

Li He replied as a matter of fact, “I’m young.”

He said it with such conviction.

——

PS: Post first, revise later