Reborn 92's Business Tycoon

Chapter 497: Chapter 497: Heavenly music

In this scenic spot that is at least a thousand miles from home, everyone is quite high-spirited and relaxed, whether they are successful or frustrated in their daily lives. Regardless of whether they can dance or not, many people follow the staff dressed in national costumes and dance around the campfire.

This is one of the benefits of travelling, to escape from the original nest, whether it is a temporary anaesthetic or a short escape, it is a rare opportunity to relax.

Feng Yiping never felt this way. He always thought that when he had money and time to spare, he would go and explore the world.

So, until the time of his rebirth for reasons that are still unclear, he had only travelled around Southeast Asia. He had never set foot in many places in China, especially not in the northern provinces.

Thinking about it now, it really is quite silly. With his previous mindset, even if he hadn't been reborn, he probably wouldn't have been able to travel around the country and abroad properly before the day he finally met Marx. There's no end to the business of making money, and time, like the cleavage of a girl's chest, can always be squeezed out if you put your mind to it.

This bonfire party was quite interesting. Unlike the usual parties, where most people are spectators, sitting in the audience watching the performers on stage, there was a clear division between the two.

This one was different. There was no organisation, and no one took turns to perform different types of programmes. In fact, there was no distinction between the audience and the performers. Everyone participated, being both audience and performer.

If there really is a performance, there are only three of them. Two of them are playing music: one is playing the same morin khuur as Feng Yiping is carrying, while the other is playing the sihu. Standing in front of them is a burly Mongolian woman, very traditional in her attire – her face is like the full moon, and she is singing in Mongolian in a relaxed manner.

Although you can't understand what she is singing about, the melody is beautiful, the breath is wide, the emotions are deep, and it has a very grassland atmosphere, very primitive.

It has a more down-to-earth feel than the academic singers with their artificial sound, and it really touches people – Feng Yiping and Zhang Yan quite like this style of folk song.

It was in this kind of unintelligible singing that everyone followed the Mongolian brothers and sisters and started to dance like a cat, imitating the tiger. Whether they danced well or not was not important for the moment, but the atmosphere was really much better than those formal parties, and everyone enjoyed themselves.

After spending a long time in the concrete jungle, confined by rules and regulations, they just wanted to let loose under the rare bright stars in the city.

When everyone was holding hands and dancing around the campfire, Feng Yiping took a hold of Huang Jingping's hand and joined in, taking the hands of the people around him who he didn't know and dancing with them.

It wasn't really dancing, it was more like walking, but everyone who was dancing was very happy, and the parents watching were also very happy. Although some of them couldn't dance, or were embarrassed to dance, or really couldn't dance, they could still clap along to the beat.

The firewood crackled and sparks flew. Many people slowly retreated to rest, but Feng Yiping and the other twenty or so guys in their twenties, who were full of energy, got more and more excited as they danced, feeling like they were back in school at a party, until the music and singing stopped.

The older tourists gradually returned to their rooms to rest, while the young people like them still gathered around and refused to leave. There were also quite a few couples, whispering to each other by the campfire.

Feng Yiping wiped the sweat from his forehead, took his own music box, and said to the man playing the morin khuur, 'Sainu, aha, can I borrow this place to play a tune?'

The Mongolian man, who was drinking from a large cup, got up cheerfully, gave up his stool, and watched with interest as Feng Yiping took the horse-head fiddle out of its case.

Apart from singing with Huang Jingping at the class party in junior high school, this was Feng Yiping's first performance in front of a large audience. However, he was not too nervous, as he was at least the person speaking from the middle of the podium at a conference of several thousand people, and he was now addressing a few dozen people.

He tuned his guitar, adjusted the height of the microphone, and placed the guitar case between his legs. After a moment of concentration, he waited for the two cameras to be in position, then sent his right hand forward and played the song he had been practising for months.

His parents didn't even know that he wanted to show off here, but when they saw him walk up to the microphone, the parents who were about to go back and rest also understood what was going on. Of course, they wouldn't miss such a moment and gathered around again.

Mei Jianzhong looked at his grandson and the two employees carrying video cameras and asked Huang Jingping, 'Yiping, what is this for?'

'I don't know either. He has been practicing piano since after the New Year,'

'Why do you need someone to film it?' Mei Qiuping asked.

'He didn't tell me,' Huang Jingping shook her head, thinking for a moment, "probably, it must be related to business,"

Although Feng Yiping didn't tell her explicitly, she could guess some things from Feng Yiping's conversation with Jin Ling. Although there was a three-day promotional event at the beginning of this month, which was held during the Dragon Boat Festival, in fact, they had been preparing for a large-scale promotional event called "Half a Year" that would last for a week starting from June 30th on the Gregorian calendar since last month.

Feng Yiping, who doesn't like to show off, has prepared for a long time this time, and has chosen to perform in such a place, so it must be related to work. As for what he will do next, I will definitely have to ask him properly later.

The prelude was obviously music in the style of the grasslands. A group of people here listened to it and felt quite good, except that the Mongolian guy looked quite wistfully at the good-looking instrument Feng Yiping was holding, just as Zhang Yan's art teacher would have done if she had seen him using such high-end brushes and paints.

However, as soon as Feng Yiping started to sing with feeling, not only him, but also the female singer chatting nearby and the man playing the four-stringed fiddle looked over in surprise.

After the voice-changing period, Feng Yiping's voice is actually quite good, a rather magnetic baritone. In the first year of high school, his homeroom teacher, Chen, suggested several times that he join the school radio club.

'Wild geese, in the sky...'

He sang this song, which he had practiced for a long time, with a smooth use of diaphragmatic breathing. The only fly in the ointment was that he couldn't sing it in Mongolian. He always felt that the song had to be sung in Mongolian to be tasteful.

However, with his mediocre singing skills, he can do well in other places, but here, on the grasslands where Mongolian is spoken, he had better stick to Mandarin.

Without any professional vocal training, Feng Yiping is not quite capable of singing high notes like in 'The Sea', but he can still handle 'Wild Geese', which he really likes.

With more than 50 years of life experience in two lives, he sang this song very soulfully. Paired with his still mellow, but obviously young voice, it added a different kind of charm than the original singer.

To draw an inappropriate analogy, it's like those action movie actresses from the island country. Obviously they're engaged in performances that are so risqué they lack a scale, but sometimes, especially in their expressions and eyes, they look so pure and innocent, enjoying themselves yet at a loss. This contrast, you understand, adds quite a bit to their 'performance.'

Before, at home, he only played the zither, he had never played and sung at the same time. Even Huang Jingping's mouth fell open when he started singing.

Although Mr and Mrs Mei Jianzhong and Feng Zhenchang were already used to Feng Yiping coming up with things they didn't know about, they were still surprised, and even those around them could tell.

A father next to them nudged Feng Zhenchang, 'Yiping has this talent, and you didn't know?'

Feng Zhenchang didn't even turn his head, "No,'

and Mei Qiuping also couldn't take her eyes off her son, "It seems that when he was in junior high school, he learned to sing and draw for a while with Teacher Zhu,'

When he got to the second verse, the morin khuur player, who had originally thought that Feng Yiping was wasting a good instrument, as well as the player of the four-stringed fiddle and the singer, all gathered around, bringing the three microphones together in front of Feng Yiping, and then simply sat on the ground opposite him, humming along.

As industry insiders, they knew very well how rare a good song was. As the saying goes, there are plenty of people who can sing well, but there are even fewer good songs than there are good singers.

The soul-stirring singing voice made many tourists who had already returned to their tents put their clothes back on and run over. By the time the third verse was sung, the lights in tents further away were also on, as if someone was riding a horse over there?

Many of the scenic area staff who were already tired of the campfire party were comfortably lying in bed, but when they heard this moving singing, which was different from usual, many of them sat up in bed. They looked at each other, not understanding what was going on. Without saying a word, they threw on their robes and ran out, slippers and all.

However, no one pointed or whispered, for fear of interrupting this rare sound of nature. Everyone stood quietly, watching the young man sitting on the stool.

For a while, it seemed that even the wind had become gentle, no longer blowing the campfire with a whoosh. The insects in the grass around them also quieted down. In the empty grassland, only Feng Yiping's singing and piano playing echoed.