In the days following the charity performance, Lu Zhixian's life actually became quiet.

Old Zhao blocked all interview requests and declined all variety show invitations. The reason was simple—"Let the bullet fly for a while."

Lu Zhixian was happy to have some leisure time. He slept until he woke up naturally during the day, went to the recording studio in the afternoon to discuss ideas for his next song with Zhou Bin, and returned home in the evening to eat a bowl of instant noodles and lie on the sofa for half an hour.

There were still many messages on his phone, but he was too lazy to look at them.

The hot searches stayed up for three days. The discussion in the comments section evolved from "fragrance of rice lyrics analysis" to "What other instruments can Lu Zhixian play," and then to "Is Lu Zhixian single?"—the topics drifted further and further away, so he simply stopped looking.

At 9:30 PM, he sat up from the sofa.

Having stayed home all day, he felt a bit stifled.

He changed into a black hoodie, put on a baseball cap, pulled a mask over his face, and headed out.

The night temperature in Beicheng was just right, neither cold nor hot. There weren't many people on the streets, walking in twos and threes. The roadside barbecue stalls were smoking, and a few young people sat on folding stools drinking beer.

Lu Zhixian walked slowly along the pedestrian street by the river.

He had no destination; he was just walking.

He passed a convenience store and went in to buy a bottle of water. The cashier was a young girl who gave him a few extra glances while scanning the code, but she didn't recognize him. The concealing effect of the hat and mask was decent.

Out of the convenience store, he continued walking forward.

After walking for about ten minutes, he heard a sound.

A guitar.

Someone was playing the guitar.

He followed the sound around a corner and walked onto a small plaza near the river on the pedestrian street.

There were several groups of people active on the plaza. The square-dancing grandmas occupied the largest area, a skateboarding youth was practicing tricks nearby, and further in—

A young man sat on a folding stool with a phone stand propped up in front of him. The phone screen was lit up, with bullet comments floating across it.

A livestream.

The young man looked to be in his early twenties, wearing a plaid shirt with somewhat long hair and bangs almost covering his eyes. A guitar amp sat in front of him, an acoustic guitar hung around his neck, and a QR code sign was placed on the ground nearby—"Donations are up to fate, singing is just for fun."

Lu Zhixian stopped in his tracks.

Because he was too familiar with the intro this young man was playing.

The harmonica melody had been replaced with guitar harmonics; although the tone was far from it, the melodic framework was correct.

fragrance of rice.

Lu Zhixian stood seven or eight meters away, unscrewed his mineral water, and took a sip, not in a hurry to walk over.

The young man cleared his throat and began to sing.

"If you have too many complaints about this world—"

The pitch was fine. The rhythm was right too. His vocal conditions were average, but he won out on sincerity, singing very heartfully. His breath control was a bit lacking, and the breath transition before the chorus was handled a bit roughly.

But overall, for a street cover, being able to sing like this was already not bad.

Lu Zhixian took another sip of water and slowly walked a few steps forward.

The bullet comments on the phone stand were floating. He could only see them clearly now that he was closer.

"This song has been so popular lately."

"The singing is okay, keep it up."

"Old Li is in good form today."

"I'm here, I'm here, I camp out in Old Li's livestream every day."

The number of people in the livestream wasn't many, just over a thousand. For a street streamer, this number was already quite decent.

The young streamer, named "Singing and Playing Old Li," continued to sing with his eyes slightly closed, completely immersed in the melody.

"Why do people have to be so fragile and depraved—"

When he sang this line, his expression was very serious. It wasn't the performative seriousness seen in livestreams, but a genuine feeling for the song.

Lu Zhixian squeezed the water bottle in his hand, the corners of his mouth curving slightly.

He made a decision.

He didn't move yet. He waited for the chorus.

"Remember you said home is the only castle—"

When Old Li reached the chorus, his voice rose and he had power, but he was clearly struggling a bit in the high register.

Lu Zhixian took off his mask and stuffed it into his pocket. He pressed the brim of his hat down a bit.

Then he stepped forward, walking to a position about two meters behind Old Li.

Old Li was singing with his eyes closed, fully invested, and didn't notice at all.

But in the livestream feed on the phone stand, Lu Zhixian's figure had already appeared in the background.

The bullet comments exploded first.

"??? Who is that person in the back?"

"Wait, someone is approaching from behind."

"No way... that height, that build."

"Am I seeing things???"

"Take off the hat and let me see the face!"

Lu Zhixian didn't look at the bullet comments. He stood behind Old Li with his hands in his pockets, listening quietly.

Old Li was still singing.

"Running along with the fragrance of rice and the river—"

The trailing sound of the word "running" wasn't handled well, and his breath broke for a moment.

But Old Li seemed to realize it himself; he frowned slightly and continued singing.

The bullet comments were already scrolling at lightning speed.

"Holy crap holy crap holy crap!!!"

"Is that Lu Zhixian?!!!"

"It definitely is! Look at that height!!"

"Bro, stop singing with your eyes closed, the original singer is right behind you!!!"

"Old Li! Open your eyes!!! Open them quickly!!!"

"Hahahahaha, I'm dying, this scene is too impactful."

"A live-site appraisal is here, I see."

The number of people in the livestream began to jump.

1,200. 1,500. 2,000.

Someone took a screenshot and posted it to Weibo and their friend circle; the news was spreading.

3,000. 5,000.

Old Li was completely unaware, still playing the interlude. He even started using the guitar to play an adapted version of that harmonica melody; it was quite imaginative, changing the original single-note melody into double-stops, making it sound much fuller.

When Lu Zhixian heard this adaptation, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

This kid has some skill.

The interlude ended, and it was the final chorus.

Old Li took a deep breath and opened his eyes—

Then he saw the bullet comments.

The screen was filled with "Behind you! Behind you! Turn your head!"

"The original singer is behind you!!!"

"Old Li, look back!!!"

Old Li's fingers faltered on the strings, and the melody broke for half a beat.

He instinctively glanced behind him.

A tall man wearing a black baseball cap stood less than two meters behind him, hands in his pockets, looking at him.

Their eyes met.

Old Li was stunned first.

Then his pupils dilated bit by bit.

He recognized him.

"...Lu... Lu Zhixian?"

Lu Zhixian smiled at him and tilted his chin up.

"Don't stop, keep going."

Old Li's face turned red at a visible speed.

From his neck up to the tips of his ears.

"I... you... this..." He was incoherent, his hands resting on the guitar, not knowing where to put them.

The bullet comments completely exploded.

"Hahahahaha, Old Li's social death scene!"

"The original singer drops into the cover scene, who wrote this script!!"

"Old Li: I'm singing your song, and you're listening???"

"Lu Zhixian's social butterfly level is maxed out."

Livestream viewers—12,000.

Still rising.

Lu Zhixian walked over to Old Li, squatted down, and looked at the bullet comments on the phone screen.

"You changed this interlude well; that double-stop idea was quite good."

Old Li's mouth hung open, and after a long while, he blurted out: "You... you heard it all?"

"I heard it from the intro."

"Then my singing... was it okay?" Old Li's voice was shaking.

Lu Zhixian thought for a moment and gave a very honest evaluation.

"The pitch is fine, and the sense of rhythm is okay too. The high register in the chorus is a bit tight; push it forward, use the air from your abdominal cavity to support it, and keep your throat relaxed."

Old Li was stunned.

The bullet comments were also stunned.

"Wait, is this a free vocal lesson in a street livestream?"

"One-on-one teaching, zero tuition, and the teacher is Lu Zhixian."

"Old Li, you've used up all your luck for this lifetime, you know."

Lu Zhixian stood up and looked at Old Li's guitar.

"You've maintained this guitar well."

"I... I bought it second-hand for eight hundred yuan." Old Li finally managed a complete sentence.

"To get this tone for eight hundred yuan, you got a bargain."

Lu Zhixian paused and looked at the bullet comments. They were all saying "Duet! Duet! Duet!"

He looked down at Old Li.

"You haven't finished the song yet."

Only then did Old Li react; the final chorus indeed hadn't been sung.

"How about... how about you do it?" Old Li held the guitar up with both hands, as if presenting a weapon.

Lu Zhixian laughed.

He took the guitar.

Old Li quickly stood up and gave up the folding stool. Lu Zhixian didn't sit; he stood and hung the guitar strap over his neck, his left hand pressing onto the frets.

He tested the sound. The tuning was accurate.

The bullet comments had gone crazy.

Livestream viewers—80,000.

Lu Zhixian's right hand swept across the strings, and the arpeggiated intro flowed out. It was different from the studio version—more casual, more relaxed, as if he were truly sitting in his own courtyard playing for fun.