String Empty

She chose dance because the erhu didn't count. She put down her bow, but she didn't know that all the erhu music she heard later would remind her of someone. He remembered the wrong song she sang, and she forgot what he looked like. Nine years later, he played it to her and she stood in the corridor and laughed. She didn't know at that time that he would carry that wrong voice with him for many years. She didn't know that she would spend more years remembering someone she would never see again. The gray car had been parked for three years. He hands over an earphone every day and she picks it up every day. She played half of those erhu pieces. She sat next to him and listened to herself playing for more than three hundred days without ever saying anything. She let go of his little finger, but his hand was still stretched out there and never bounced back. Later she realized that he was not waiting for her to return her hand, but that he was waiting for him to take his hand back. He held the cup of soy milk until it was cold and dry, but he didn't throw it away. The car didn't stop after that. The back seat sat empty for three years and three years, and no one sat in it again. No one ever handed her a pair of headphones and asked, "Does it sound good?" They loved it so much that they didn't even take a photo together. The only picture was from nine years ago - two children sitting on the ground, one gnawing an apple and the other playing the piano. Turn to the back, and there is a line of pencil writing: "The third sentence is wrong, but I like the version you sang better." Three years after the reunion, nothing remained. She looked through the photo album on her phone and found only one rearview mirror photo - the back row was empty, without him or her. She deleted it because after looking at it for a long time, she would wonder what he looked like. Later, after she finished playing a piece of music, with her hands still on the strings, she realized that there was no one around her who could turn around. She subconsciously handed the earphones to the side, and the hand she handed out stopped in mid-air. No one answered. No one will pick up again. The strings are still there, but the sound is gone. The people are still there, but the people listening are gone. The real Sora is not that he is gone. It was when she finished playing a piece of music and her hand stopped in mid-air that she realized that the position had been empty for three years and three years. And he would never know that all the songs she played later were to say the unspoken "don't go" for him. Concept: Concept of "Xian Kong" They did nothing wrong. No quarrels, no misunderstandings, no one sorry. It's just two people who were too young, walking on the same road for a while, and then going in different directions. It's not that I don't love, it's that when I love, I don't know how to stay. By the time I found out, the car had already driven away. The strings are still there, and the people are still there. But the person listening to the piano is no longer there. The real emptiness is not broken, but when you finish playing a piece of music and your hands are still hanging in the air, you realize that there is no one next to you. Every song she played later seemed to be asking him—does it sound good? But no one answered anymore. She kept the phrase "I pulled it" for more than three hundred days, until the person disappeared from the back seat, until the car stopped stopping, and until she never had the chance to say it again in her life. They liked it so much, but they didn't even take a photo together. The only one was from nine years ago, with two children sitting on the ground, one gnawing an apple and the other playing the piano. Turn to the back and there is a line of pencil writing: The third sentence is wrong, but I like the version you sang better. Three years after the reunion, nothing remained. All that's left is a car that won't stop, an erhu that no one listens to, and a word that will never be heard. After she finished playing every piece of music, her hands would stop in mid-air for an extra second. For that second, she pretended that there was someone else next to her.