The first time she heard his voice was late one night with insomnia.
Big Data pushed a song to him, and she listened to it again. She didn't know who he was at that time. But she remembered that voice - a very sincere voice, like a whisper in her ear.
She later met him at a music festival. Thirty meters away, he stood on the stage singing. She was the only one in the audience who didn't raise her cell phone and listened to the whole thing quietly. When he sang the last song, he glanced in her direction. Just one glance.
Still later, she became the curator of his projects. He called her "Teacher Shen" and she called him "Yi Heying". He wrote down everything she said in a memo, thirty thousand words long. She hid a work about his voice in the deepest part of the exhibition hall.
She thought it was just a brief encounter. But the sound will not stop and the heartbeat will not be forgotten.
This is a story about "voice" and "thoughts". A person who sings finds someone who only listens to his singing. A person standing behind the scenes is seriously seen by someone.
The sound never ceases, and I never forget it.
[Sweet pet, sister-brother love, curator × singer, running in both directions]
