At the very beginning of the video, a fair, slender palm appeared.
The palm moved away from the camera. The hazy morning light fell through the window, enveloping the room, coating everything in a shallow layer of gold, giving it an unreal, dreamlike feeling.
In the center of the frame were two girls.
The most conspicuous was a tall, slender girl in sportswear. A smile beamed across her face, her white hair loosely draped behind her, her youthful, lively aura almost bursting out of the screen.
“Hello, hello! Welcome to Shengxia and Dongxue’s vlog. This is Dongxue~”
She waved her hand. Her voice was natural, yet carried a hint of lazy trailing tone, like an unadorned white flower.
The other girl sat in a wheelchair. Her cyan hair was braided into two pigtails that hung over her shoulders. She wore a light-colored cardigan, and a thick dark gray cloth covered her legs. Her hands were folded on top of that cloth, her ten fingers facing each other, her fingertips poking at it one by one.
“Hi… this is Shengxia…”
Her voice was as small as a mosquito’s. She quickly glanced up, then immediately lowered her head, her fingers poking even faster.
Perhaps she thought her little movements were insignificant, but in reality, the camera captured them clearly.
Dongxue gently pressed her hand on her shoulder and tucked a few strands of Shengxia’s hair behind her ear.
“Today, I’ll show you the piano we just bought. It was purchased with our live broadcast income~”
As she said this, she let go and walked to the side of the camera to pick up the camcorder.
The frame began to shake. The ceiling, the curtains, and half of Dongxue’s face appeared in succession, finally stopping at a relatively distant position.
In the center of the frame was a brand new piano. Dongxue nodded in satisfaction at the camera’s position, then stepped out of the shot.
“Come on, move forward a bit~”
Dongxue’s voice came from off-screen. Soon, she pushed Shengxia’s wheelchair to a short distance in front of the piano.
During this process, Shengxia remained quiet, not saying a word, like an exquisite life-sized doll. Her cyan braids swayed with the wheelchair’s motion, and her sky-blue hair ribbon fluttered gently, like a dancing fairy.
Standing behind the wheelchair, Dongxue lowered her head, a gentle smile on her face.
“Little Shengxia, do you know how to play the piano?”
“I… I know a little.” Shengxia’s voice was still very small. “I haven’t played since the accident… for several months. I should still remember some.”
She tilted her head slightly, only revealing a small part of her profile.
“What about you, Dongxue?”
“Well, as for me…” Dongxue tilted her head, her gaze falling on the piano. “My piano skills… they’re about the same as my singing—still at the stage of barely taking shape.”
Shengxia let out a snicker.
After laughing, she remembered the camera was still recording. She immediately raised her hand to cover her mouth and lowered her head again. Her braids slid off her shoulders and swayed on her chest.
Dongxue’s lips curled into a beautiful arc. She bent down, heavy with purpose, lifted the thick dark gray cloth from Shengxia’s legs, folded it, and placed it on the armrest. Then, she turned sideways, slipped one arm under the girl’s knees and the other behind her back, and lifted her up in a princess carry.
Shengxia’s arms naturally wrapped around Dongxue’s neck.
Dongxue straightened up, with Shengxia held entirely in her arms. Shengxia’s face was buried in Dongxue’s shoulder, her braids hanging down, the blue bows at the ends of the braids touching Dongxue’s wrist.
Gently placing Shengxia on the seat in front of the piano, Dongxue picked up the thick cloth from the armrest, shook it out, and covered her legs again, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles.
“Let’s start.”
Shengxia nodded. She took a deep breath, her shoulders slowly rising. Her hands paused over the keys for a moment, then descended slowly.
The pleasant sound of the piano rang out like a clear spring.
It was Rain of Fleeting Years, a piece everyone who learned piano had played.
This piano piece was easy to learn but difficult to master. Many people played it mechanically, like reciting a score from memory, without any emotion. Thus, Rain of Fleeting Years was also known as the simplest piano piece to distinguish a master from a fake expert.
In the first few measures, Shengxia’s rhythm was a bit unsteady, but soon stabilized. The tempo picked up slightly, but the notes didn’t become crowded because of it.
The melody flowed from the piano, tinkling like raindrops falling on a blue stone slab, one after another, unhurried.
It was not just pleasant to the ear.
Deep within the melody hid something—very thin and faint, tucked into the trailing end of every note. It wasn’t sadness; it was lighter than sadness. It wasn’t loneliness; it was farther away than loneliness.
It was like sitting by the window watching the rain all day, thinking many things in between, yet feeling as if nothing had been thought at all.
The last note fell. Shengxia’s fingers still hovered above the keys for two seconds, then slowly drew back and rested on her knees.
Dongxue applauded softly and walked behind Shengxia.
“As expected of my little Shengxia~ You’re so beautiful you’re good enough to eat, even when playing the piano.” She leaned down, resting her chin on the girl’s shoulder. “I can’t help but want to take a bite. What should I do?”
The tips of Shengxia’s ears turned red. She turned her head and gently patted Dongxue’s leg.
“Stop teasing… If you want to play, then go ahead.”
Dongxue let out a laugh. She straightened up, lifted Shengxia back into the wheelchair, covered her again with the thick cloth, then turned and walked to the piano, sitting down.
She tilted her head toward the camera and smiled—a bright, generous smile. In the hazy morning light, it was like a memorial to a departed wife.
She turned back, raised her hands, and brought them down.
The music began.
It was Summer of the Plane Trees.
A classic as famous as Rain of Fleeting Years, but with a completely different temperament. Compared to the faint melancholy buried in the drizzling rain of Rain of Fleeting Years, Summer of the Plane Trees was entirely a passionate and gentle piece.
Dongxue’s wrists were steady. Every note fell at the most appropriate time. Her fingering was clean, the melody line was clear, and the accompaniment layer spread comfortably underneath, neither intrusive nor overpowering.
Very skilled, but… it seemed to lack something?
Hard to put into words. It was like the plane tree leaves falling without a rustling sound, or the sunlight falling on one’s shoulders without any warmth.
The final chord fell. Dongxue closed the piano lid and let out a sigh.
“As expected, I can’t compare to little Shengxia. No soul at all, too hollow.”
The wheelchair moved. Shengxia pushed the wheels slowly closer, stopping gently to the left of the piano seat. She reached out and gently placed her hand on top of Dongxue’s hand.
“Dongxue, you’ve only been learning for such a short time. Being able to play like this is already really good.”
Dongxue turned her head and glanced at her.
“If only I could get a kiss from little Shengxia.” Her voice suddenly grew louder, loud enough to be heard in every corner of the room. “If that happened, I definitely wouldn’t be discouraged~”
Shengxia’s fingers sprang away from Dongxue’s hand and retracted, like a startled little rabbit.
“R-right now… we’re still recording the video…” She turned her head away, not daring to look at the camera, but presumably her face had turned red again. “People will see…”
“In that case—” Dongxue turned around and gently wrapped an arm around her waist, her lips curling up as she pressed them close to the girl’s ear.
“As long as no one sees, little Shengxia can keep kissing me?”
Shengxia’s body visibly trembled, as if from an attack on her overly sensitive earlobe.
“No… I didn’t… you—Dongxue, don’t talk nonsense!”
Then she abruptly raised her hand and waved it frantically in the air. Her braids swayed along, the blue bows at the ends trembling.
Dongxue stood up, walked to the camera, and bent down. Her face filled the entire frame—sky-blue eyes clear, fair skin smooth, and her lips curved into a smile with no attempt to hide it.
“Babes, today’s vlog ends here~” She waved her hand, making a bye-bye gesture. “I’m going to go receive some personal comfort from Shengxia~”
Dongxue remained bent over, a mischievous smile still hanging at the corner of her mouth.
Through the gap of her clothing, Shengxia could be faintly seen behind her. One of Shengxia’s hands was suspended in the air, as if to stop her, her mouth open, her expression a mix of panic and embarrassment.
The frame froze here.
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