Don't laugh at our youth

Luo Xiaolu is still in his graduate program in music at his old college. Every day, he carried his cello in his arms and walked along the corridors of the vines-covered music building. Only the sunlight jumped and passed on his face. The professor was an old man wearing sunglasses. He was very old-fashioned and strict, sometimes even scolding him harshly for a misaligned string. Only rarely did he see the professor play. The only time was late at night, when he went to the dormitory building to visit his former teacher from the art academy, he overheard the cello sound on his floor. The sad, heartbreaking sound of low-pressure strings. After a long time, Luo Xiaolu overheard that the former professor had a beautiful wife. They were the most envied couple. But he died of a heart attack. His wife's favorite song was that song.