Just having saved that pair of "rhythm difficulty households" singing "Nan Shan Nan", Lin Feng felt comfortable all over, and even his breathing was much smoother. He even felt the Red Scarf on his chest was brighter—although he wasn't wearing one.
However, this kind of pleasure generated from acting on behalf of Heaven only lasted for less than two minutes.
When he walked to the other side of the square fountain, a burst of new guitar sounds and singing voices drilled into his ears.
This time, it was a solo singing girl.
She sat all alone on the steps by the fountain pool, her equipment very complete: a microphone stand, a small speaker, and a Taylor folk guitar that looked quite expensive. But this girl covered herself strictly tight, wearing an exaggerated wide-brimmed fisherman hat on her head, and a huge black mask on her face, only revealing a pair of eyes. If one didn't look at the guitar in her hand, one would think it was some star who just finished medical aesthetics and was afraid of seeing light.
At this time, she was playing and singing "Empty" (Kong Kong Ru Ye).
"I muddled through a year..."
Have to say, this girl's voice conditions were extremely good. Even separated by a layer of thick mask, the voice sounded a bit muffled, but one could still hear that kind of penetrating power and thickness. That was a timbre of God awarding rice to eat, even several grades stronger than that guitar player imitating Ma Di just now, and could spit and step on Ren Yichen completely.
But.
Everything is afraid of "but."
Lin Feng stopped his footsteps, and the brows that had just smoothed out once again ruthlessly locked together, even locked tighter than just now.
If not listening to the accompaniment, only listening to the a cappella, this sister's singing voice was absolutely that kind of first-class level that could make people stop their footsteps. But the problem lay in that she was playing and singing herself.
Her guitar level... how to say, belonged to that entry-level of "probably know how to press chords, but fingers don't quite obey orders."
But this was still not the most fatal.
The most fatal was her sense of rhythm.
This song "Empty" pays attention to that kind of light, jumping syncopation and groove. But under the interpretation of this masked heroine knight, this song seemed to have been poured with ten catties of lead blocks.
She was dragging the beat.
Extremely serious dragging of the beat.
At every measure's entry beat, she was late by that zero point few seconds compared to standard time. She was like a straggler forever unable to keep up with the team's tail, desperately trying to chase, yet chasing slower and slower. The guitar strumming was even more soft and cottony, completely lacking that kind of crisp and neat rhythm support.
If it was a band performance, the drummer could still forcibly drag her back. But now she was soloing, nobody managed her, so she ran wildly on the road of "getting slower and slower," singing a light pop song into a funeral song of an old ox pulling a broken cart.
"How is this 'Empty', this is clearly 'Constipation Discomfort'..."
Lin Feng felt the pores all over his body were protesting.
The [Ancient Rhythm Sacred Constitution] inside his body was madly sounding the alarm; that kind of auditory delay sense made him produce a kind of physiological dizziness, just like playing that kind of online game with latency as high as 500ms, where every operation lagged by half a second, uncomfortable enough to want to vomit.
"No way, can't endure it."
Lin Feng took a deep breath.
Just now that was a problem solvable by snapping fingers, because there were two people checking each other. But now this girl was playing and singing herself, having already fallen into her own "speed reduction domain," so relying solely on snapping fingers basically could not save it back.
The only method was to take that source creating noise—the guitar—over from her hands.
Which is also commonly known as "substituting the player."
Lin Feng strode his long legs, walking straight through the sparse crowd of onlookers, walking toward that girl.
At this time, the masked girl was just singing to the chorus part. Just because of not pressing the barre chord tight enough, she was somewhat burnt head and scorched forehead, completely not noticing a tall black shadow had already shrouded her.
Until that black shadow blocked the street lamp's light.
The girl subconsciously raised her head. Through the gap between the hat brim and the mask, she saw a face.
That was a handsome face, but cold as if just taken out from a freezer. Inside those deep eyes there were no waves, only a kind of... scrutiny that made one's heart palpitate?
No, that was disdain.
Lin Feng's inner activity at this time was actually very polite: Hello, this Miss, your rhythm is seriously dragging, the guitar accompaniment has no groove to speak of, in order not to waste your excellent voice conditions, I suggest I accompany you, this way we can jointly complete a perfect performance.
But due to the long-term "facial paralysis" habit, plus the hostility not yet dissipated from being tortured in the system space for a month just now, as well as the anxiety brought by the onset of OCD...
When he opened his mouth, a thousand words and ten thousand phrases converged into a sentence of cold, hard command without any fluctuation:
"Guitar, give it to me."
In this instant, the air seemed to solidify.
Masked girl: "?!!"
She looked at this man in front of her whose aura was strong to the point of terror, and countless social news headlines instantly flashed through her brain.
"Guitar Robber Shockingly Appears in University Square!"
"Robbing Instruments in Broad Daylight, Is It the Distortion of Human Nature or the Loss of Morality?"
"Certain Famous... Attacked Here!"
Seeing she didn't react, Lin Feng's brows wrinkled even deeper.
In his view, this was the opponent hesitating whether to accept a stranger's help.
But in the girl's view, this was the precursor of the robber losing patience. That action of frowning was clearly saying: If you don't hand it over again, I am going to make a move.
"I..." The girl was scared until her voice trembled, the hands hugging the guitar tightened, and the whole person shrank back, "You... what do you want to do?"
"You play too rottenly." Lin Feng spoke the truth, his tone carrying a kind of ice-coldness stating objective facts, "Rhythm all chaotic, seriously dragging the beat. Uncomfortable to listen to."
After speaking, those slender big hands of his directly reached over, grasping the guitar neck.
"Let go."
Only two words, concise and comprehensive.
The girl looked at those hands that allowed no doubt, and looked at Lin Feng's face that had "I am doing this for your own good (if you don't listen I will kill you)" written on it, and her psychological defense line instantly collapsed.
How is this a discussion, this is clearly a notification!
"G... give you..."
The girl carried a crying tone, like a primary school student being extorted by a school bully, tremblingly let go of her hands, watching helplessly as her beloved Taylor guitar fell into the devil's palm.