The celestial light had brightened, and Zhou Xuan, who rarely had a good night's sleep, felt refreshed. After dressing and washing up, he headed to the hall.
In the hall of the Jingyi Shop, Yun Ziliang was listening to Bai Guang's new song, nodding along.
"Huh, Lao Yun, I remember we don't have a record of this song at home."
Zhou Xuan, listening to the lyrics, felt somewhat unfamiliar.
"Bai Guang knows I love her songs. She released a new song and specially had someone send me a new record."
Yun Ziliang, as if showing off treasures, opened the cabinet of the phonograph, took out a kraft paper bag, and handed it to Zhou Xuan to see: "Look, it even has Bai Guang's signature on it."
"I didn't expect that at your age, you'd become part of a support group."
Zhou Xuan glanced at the paper bag, Bai Guang's elegant handwriting seemed to flow on the kraft paper.
"This handwriting is really impressive."
