"Exactly! Mr. Ye sings so beautifully—it's like hearing a voice from heaven! You play the matouqin beautifully, too, and your Mongolian is excellent. Mr. Ye, could you sing another song about our grasslands? I'll treat everyone to dinner!" The hotel owner poured Ye Chen a drink and raised his glass to him, making the generous offer.
Everyone called out in unison, "Exactly! That was amazing, and the boss is so generous! Mr. Ye, sing another one! One more!"
Ye Chen smiled.
That was easy. He already had a song ready: I Come from the Grassland. He hadn't sung it on his livestream yet.
Whether or not they got a free meal didn't matter. I Come from the Grassland was perfect for the occasion, and he wanted to sing it.
Ye Chen smiled and raised a hand, gently pressing it down in the air.
The surrounding crowd fell silent once more.
Ye Chen smiled. "Thank you all for your kind words and for enjoying my songs. The boss is so generous, so I'll sing you another one: I Come from the Grassland."
Everyone burst into applause and cheers again.
Ye Chen began playing the matouqin once more.
As its melodious notes rang out,
Ye Chen began to sing: "I ride beyond a thousand mountains, listening to the wind sing its heavenly song. The years may have changed, but my heart remains free. I sing across ten thousand miles, with the bright moon by my side. The distant horizon waits for me, and my heart surges... The wind comes from the grassland, stirring my heart. It carries my love, across this sea of fragrant flowers. I come from the grassland, to warm your heart. My feelings will never change, beneath that sky so blue. The clouds are white—white as the felt roof