"Solitude is a celebration for one."
Li Ang's gaze was unfocused, his back against the chair, looking at the wine glass held between his three fingers, and he said casually, "As your taste becomes more niche, it means the things, emotions, and arts you appreciate don't go with the flow. The deeper your understanding of yourself, the fewer people resonate with you, and naturally, the further you distance yourself from the crowd."
"Why do you say that? What are you up to? What's your purpose for saying these things? Who instructed you? What's your motivation? If you can't answer, sorry, I can only give you a fail on this wave."
Wang Congshan, sitting next to him, suddenly attacked, took off the headphones Li Ang was wearing, and put them on herself,
She heard Bach's 'Air on a G String' coming through the headphones, saw the familiar music app on the phone screen, raised an eyebrow, "Starting the gloomy cloud mode in broad daylight, huh."
"You don't understand."
