His voice was like the deep sea, and the stars in the Universe.
Images from the past flooded her mind: him, in his office, teaching her college English and mathematics, with the mechanical pencil in his fair fingers, writing neat letters and formulas.
She had seen Long Xiliang play the piano, his clearly jointed fingers as if they were made for the black and white keys.
She had also seen him pick up a paintbrush and spread dazzling colors across the white paper.
He could do anything, every skill was a gift bestowed upon him by the heavens; even his singing was so enchanting.
His voice completely intoxicated people, making them want to embrace his broad shoulders and comfort his loneliness.
As the last note faded, the private room fell into silence; people were still immersed in the song, not having come back to their senses yet.
It was as if time had stopped, everyone frozen, except for Lu Xiaoyou and Long Xiliang; they were the only ones awake.
