Chapter 615: Chapter 394: Writing Love Songs is Also Difficult_1

One day later, Harrison Clark arrived in Carlisle first.

He had an inkling that, on a timeline he couldn’t reach, it would be unlikely for him to leave for Carlisle on May 28, 2020.

It seemed as though the reality was on that timeline, but he couldn’t go there.

Whenever he tried to find the “reality,” his world would collapse upon encountering special keywords, without even struggling.

His world was too small and fragile, and some things were not for him to think about.

Harrison didn’t stay at the star hotel across from Mason Academy, but went straight to the villa district in Newport Beach.

The $10 million villa offered a different living experience.

Besides the building itself, he also bought the entire small butler-team serving the 0.91-acre estate and a sports car and high-end business car in the garage.

It was just getting dark when he arrived, and the setting sun cast its glow over the swimming pool.

Harrison lay back by the pool, raising his legs comfortably.

Some Chinese cold dishes were arranged on the table beside him, while in the kitchen, the butler and a team of eight chefs invited from a famous local Chinese restaurant were busy preparing the meal.

Mr. Clark once again stated that the life of capitalism was really damn corrupt.

This villa consumed nearly $100,000 in maintenance fees every month, not to mention taxes.

The service team for his dinner, including human resources and material costs, was worth more than $4,000.

But he had no choice; his appetite was too big, and he couldn’t get full eating just two dishes and one soup like a regular person, especially since there would be other people tonight.

Before long, Carrie Thomas arrived in her bodyguard’s car.

As soon as she entered the estate, she saw Harrison sitting by the pool basking in the sunset and walked over, jokingly saying, “I really didn’t think you’d know how to enjoy life.”

Harrison spread his hands, “How can this be called enjoying life? Just trying to eat a good meal.”

Carrie sat down, picked up a bite-sized dessert, and said as she ate, “So many people serving you for one meal, and it’s not called enjoying?”

Harrison replied without thinking, “Compared to the 31st century, this so-called enjoyment isn’t a big deal. Every ordinary person in daily life has the help of artificial intelligence and manufacturing machines, and it just takes a few seconds to get a good meal. They can even have intelligent robots feed them.”

Carrie imagined the scene, compared it to the staff members who were bringing dishes nearby, and sighed, “The future is really nice. I envy you.”

Harrison thought for a moment, “If there were no invaders, then it would be truly enviable.”

Carrie suddenly asked, “Is the medical technology in the future very advanced?”

Harrison nodded, “Yes.”

“Is there such a thing as incurable disease?”

“Almost none. Aside from premature aging and death due to overwork and exhaustion, there are virtually no deaths from diseases.”

Carrie rubbed her nose, “That’s great…”

Her tone was a bit off, as if she was sad.

Harrison didn’t find it strange, considering what he knew about her life story from historical records.

Carrie was born into an average family, her parents were ordinary workers, and they were not professionally engaged in music.

Her grandfather, who played a good saxophone and other traditional instruments like piano and violin, was her first music teacher.

But her grandfather passed away early, succumbing to an illness when she was not yet ten years old.

This was a regret in Carrie’s life.

A few minutes later, the dishes were all spread out on the long table.

The two chatted as they ate.

Carrie tried to restrain herself from asking about the future.

But as they talked, she couldn’t help but ask a few more questions.

Carrie focused on four things: if her completion of “Morning Wind” had become faster, if she had written better songs, if they had gotten married as promised, and how their married life had been.

Harrison picked through her questions carefully.

He didn’t lie, “Indeed, you’ve finished it more quickly. But your other new works… ”

“What’s wrong with them?”

Harrison told her the truth, “There aren’t many, just two more. The quality hasn’t declined, though, and remains on par with ‘Self-Combustion,’ ‘The Fire,’ ‘Sharp edges fully exposed,’ and ‘Dreamwalking in Virgo.’

Carrie fell silent for a moment, “Really? It seems that I will also have a day when my talent runs out.”

“It’s not that your talent has run out, I think you probably just got into a dilemma that restricted the breadth of your creations.”

Carrie frowned slightly, “A dilemma?”

“Yes. I think…”

Just as Harrison was about to explain, Carrie raised her hand to stop him, saying, “Don’t say it, let me figure it out.”

“Alright.”

Carrie began to mutter and ponder.

“Given that my level hasn’t dropped, I should have written more new works of a similar level, but I didn’t.”

Harrison said, “It doesn’t impact your historical status; having ‘Morning Wind’ as a foundation ensures a solid position.”

Carrie shook her head, “Historical status doesn’t mean much.”

After a long while, she gradually sorted out her thoughts and analyzed, “Although my previous songs had different styles, their range was actually quite narrow. The themes mainly focused on inspirational topics in popular vocal music.”