Chapter 120: The Charm of Song (Please Subscribe)

The sun gradually tilted westward, the heat easing slightly. People finished their nine-to-six workdays and set off on their journeys home.

“Driver, please take us to Qi Ming Gynecology Hospital.”

In front of a residential complex, a young couple hailed a taxi and got in.

“All right! Please take a seat,” the driver said, starting the car and weaving through the bustling traffic.

“Mengmeng, let’s get married and have the baby, okay?”

“If we have the baby now, how will we support it? Your career is just taking off, this is a crucial stage. I don’t want you distracted by taking care of me. We can get married, but let’s wait a few years before having children, alright?”

“But... I’m sorry, it’s my fault for not being capable...” The man choked back his emotions helplessly, gently caressing the woman’s belly, where a new life was growing, yet he felt powerless to protect her and bring their child into this world.

“Ah!” The driver overheard their conversation and sighed softly—not with disdain, but with a sense of helplessness.

The pressures today’s youth bear—housing, cars, marriage—and the elderly parents they must support—it’s all an immense burden. They are truly exhausted.

And pressure knows no age: young people have their struggles, but middle-aged folks like him face even greater challenges.

As the saying goes online, “I’ve spent my life supporting those who raised me and raising those who depend on me. As for myself? I leave it to time…”

It’s a sad, powerless truth, but one that speaks to the harsh reality: in this society, elites and the wealthy are just a small fraction; the vast majority are simply struggling to survive.

With a sigh, the driver turned on the car radio, hoping to ease his heavy heart.

“Next, we bring you a song about love and longing by young singer-songwriter Yang Qing. May your life be free of regrets and filled only with happiness.”

“If you have the time, will you come see me…”

As the radio began to play, the three passengers were drawn in by the deep, resonant melody.

As the sorrowful, yearning tune spread through the car and the words “Across three thousand miles, I happened to see you” echoed, the woman couldn’t help but lean into the man’s embrace, quietly sobbing.

His eyes reddened too, blurred by tears. He recalled their first meeting, the fluttering heartbeat when they first held hands, their vows to love and protect each other for life.

Love needs nurturing, and more than that, it needs to endure through new life.

He stroked her belly once more, his heart writhing in pain and conflict.

Finally, Yang Qing’s “Mohe Dance Hall” ended, followed by commercials. The car stopped at a traffic light.

Just two intersections away from the gynecology hospital, the man’s heart began to race, his nerves unraveling.

After another intersection, he glanced several times at the girl resting in his arms, wanting to speak but remaining silent.

Then, the radio came back on:

“Welcome to Yangcheng Radio. Up next is a children’s song written and composed by young singer-songwriter Yang Qing, ‘I Am a Painter.’ May your life always be filled with joy and companionship.”

Soon, the cheerful voices of three little children filled the car:

“I am a painter, with strong painting skills,

I want to paint that new house even more beautifully.

Painting the roof and then the walls, the brush flies like a bird... hiahiahia...”

Listening to the joyful childish voices and their infectious giggles, the driver’s lips twitched into a smile. Meanwhile, the woman in the man’s arms suddenly froze.

After a moment, as the brief but happy children’s song ended, she raised her head, gazing at the man in a daze and spoke softly:

“Let’s have the baby... let’s bring it into the world.”

“Click!”

The man was stunned for a moment. Then, overcome with emotion and disbelief, he nodded firmly, choking back tears:

“Yes! We’ll have the baby! I’ll work hard, earn money, and give you both a good life!”

“Mm,” the woman said tearfully, “We’ll work hard together!”

“Haha... folks, today’s a happy day!” The driver chuckled. “Are you still going to the hospital? If not, I can take you back.”

The man smiled, “We’re going.”

The driver was silent.

“Haha, don’t worry, driver, we’re just going for a check-up.”

“Oh, good, good. Young people, always out of breath when they talk.”

The woman laughed—a genuine, radiant smile—and said, “These two songs really saved us.”

“Yeah,” the man nodded heavily, “The singer-songwriter is Yang Qing. I’ll remember today, remember him, thank him, and support him!”

“Mm…”

Two songs saved a life and brought happiness to a family.

After an afternoon of spreading, Yang Qing’s “Mohe Dance Hall” had surged into the top forty of the trending charts and top fifty of the new song charts.

As for Xiaochun’s song, it was even more astonishing, breaking into the top ten of both charts!

Only Xiaoqiu’s and Xiaoxia’s songs lagged slightly, entering the top one hundred on both charts.

“Horse Racing” and “Hundreds of Birds Facing the Phoenix” had already secured fifth and sixth place on the pure instrumental charts of Huaguo, and their momentum was still climbing.

Thus, Yang Qing rose to fame in one fell swoop!

More and more netizens, moved and captivated by his songs, wished to follow him—only to find he hadn’t opened a social media account. This was... quite baffling.

So they flooded Wang Ying’s social media instead, tagging her since she was the first to promote Yang Qing’s music.

Unfortunately, Wang Ying wasn’t logged in at the moment; she was fully immersed in practicing “Yearning,” determined to perform it flawlessly at the concert.

Meanwhile, what was Yang Qing doing as everyone eagerly awaited his updates? He was dressing Xiaodong in little clothes for a day out.

Tiny shorts, a short-sleeved shirt, socks, and shoes. Beside him stood three lively little kids dressed similarly in shorts and short sleeves.

Yesterday, Niannian gifted Xiaobai a small soccer ball, and today the three little ones insisted that Yang Qing take them to play soccer. Now they were ready to set off.

“Brother Qing, are you done yet?” Xiaoxi, clutching the soccer ball, called out impatiently in her childlike voice.

“Almost, almost,” Yang Qing said, putting shoes on Xiaodong before lifting her up and looking at the three kids.

“Let’s go and call Daddy Bai to join us.”

“Whoosh!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiaobai dashed out like the wind, then her childish voice rang out:

“Old man! Are you ready yet? Hurry up! The kids are all waiting impatiently!”

Bai Zhijun, sipping his porridge, rolled his eyes: “Hurrying what? You’ve already nagged me three times while I’m eating a bowl of porridge! What’s the rush?”

Xiaobai →_→: “You eat porridge so slowly, slower than the kids! Is it too hot? I’ll blow on it for you!”

She ran over, blew on his bowl, and instantly a spray of saliva flew everywhere.

Bai Zhijun: (ー_ー)!!

Thanks a lot, you little brat!

“Brother Bai, let’s go.”

Yang Qing, holding Xiaodong, came downstairs with Xiaoqiu and Xiaoxi, smiling at Bai Zhijun.

“All right, so... got anything for us?” Bai Zhijun winked at Yang Qing.

Yang Qing chuckled, “Dongning and Wang Ming just called. They’ll come find us after they finish work and treat us to barbecue. What do you think?”

“That’s a given!”

Bai Zhijun beamed, finishing his porridge in one gulp and said to Xiaobai at his feet:

“Little rascal, let’s go!”

“Hmph!”

Xiaobai pouted, then took the hands of Xiaoqiu and Xiaoxi, and they all ran out.

“Hiahia... Sister, we’re going to play now. Don’t miss us, okay?” Xiaoxi happily waved goodbye at the door, with Xiaoqiu and Xiaobai waving too.

Tan Jin’er: (??ˇεˇ??)

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