"Rip——" The second express package was opened.
The first thing that caught the eye was layers of foam padding. Gently pushing it aside, a wooden guitar lay inside.
This was the gift Su Yu sent all the way from Shanghai.
The body of the guitar was a deep, warm wood color, like ancient amber, with veins of varying shades intertwining like mountain ranges.
Under the light, it resembled a flowing painting.
The strings were new and taut, gleaming with a subtle silver sheen.
The neck was slender and elegant, with mother-of-pearl inlays adorning the fretboard.
At the headstock, there was no brand logo, but rather the words "Su Yu" elegantly sketched in gold paint.
The entire guitar weighed just right, feeling comfortable and solid in hand, with perfect, smooth curves.
It was like an exceptional beauty lying quietly in wait.
This was the most beautiful and perfect guitar Tang Song had ever seen.
The desire in his heart as a guitarist was instantly fully awakened.
