[Jin Guang] [Mo Qiao] I don't know

The sparse shade of the row of trees can't beat the heat of late spring.He parked the car outside the courtyard, pushed open the concealed courtyard door and walked in like last time.The peonies planted in the small courtyard at some time had already been densely packed at this time, and it was a bustling bright red.When Qiao Rulai was walking in with a bag of materials on her back, a fish jumped up from the pond in the garden, and fell back into the water with a splash.

The door of the small building was also unlocked.Qiao Tathagata asked a question with good manners, but there was no response for a long time, so she had to bite the bullet and enter the room.He didn't enter the room last time, but looking at it now, the room is still in a desolate style - the furniture and decoration are so simple that there is almost nothing, and half of the sofa is piled with various books, as if it is reluctant to leave some hospitality free time.There was no TV (a medium that Mr. Lamer would not have liked), and even the nearby phone was not connected to the line, giving priority to the blinking Wi-Fi router.Qiao Tathagata swept up the stairs and saw that the door to the room in the courtyard was half open.

"Come in."

Mo Cangli's voice sounded from the house.

"Yes."

He promised to go in, only to find that the curtains were drawn when he entered the room, and a small projector was playing photos of the temple murals on the white wall beside him—he didn't even know when Mo Cangli took the photos.And the owner of the house is sitting among the books and papers in the room, staring at the flipped photos one by one, not knowing what he is thinking.

"Mr. Mo?"

"You're here." Mo Cangli didn't intend to stand up, "Have you found all the materials?"

"Only part of it. I brought it here because I thought my husband might need it." Qiao Rulai turned out the materials and explained the photocopying rules for those thread-bound ancient books.Mo Cangli asked after listening, "How much is your account number?"

"Hey?"

"Just take a picture, don't worry about the price."

"I'm just worried about the filmed parts, there's not much you need."

Those jet-like eyes turned to him again.

"What do you think I need?"

"Are you going to write this mural?" Qiao Rulai asked.

"Replace asking questions with thinking." Mo Cangli said, looking away again, "You already knew the answer."

——For the first time, Qiao Rulai had the urge to stop being a good student.

Find an excuse in front of the professor, no matter what the paper is, give up the impossible to exhaust the ancient books, give up this job, these troubles of running around, and the opportunity to meet this person.

And he can do it.

Now, Shi Jingzhong has a choice—though he's not even used to that freedom.

The seat turned half a turn.

The mystery novelist flipped through the materials he brought over, and the speed made people wonder what he had read.Behind him, the mirage lights and shadows changed, and the man's unmoved face was drawn out on and off.He always looked like that: nothing could shake him, nothing could change him, nothing could hold him, and it felt like thousands of miles away even though they were only a few feet away.

Qiaoru's rejection that came to her lips disappeared again.

"I'll... come again."

He said in a low voice, turned and left, almost fleeing.

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After that day, Qiao Rulai's follow-up work slowed down instead. He rummaged through Mo Cangli's book list while looking for information for his term paper. He gave up expensive shooting and used the simplest pen and paper. , Copy down the many familiar personnel and place names line by line:

There is a village called Jinlei, and it is a good year for the witch.It is said that there is a white snake that lives under the mouth of the dragon's saliva and does not come out for a hundred years.

I heard that there is a Tianmen bell, which rings day and night, and I forget my worries when I hear it.Never heard of it again. ...

The barnyard official and unofficial history recorded by this kind of literati has nothing to do with the facts, and Qiao Tathagata can't think of what it has to do with the murals that have been handed down from time to time.He flipped through the categories of notes such as "foreigner", "swordsman", "overseas" and "strange news", knowing that Mo Cangli was probably trying to piece together something.

Maybe he is not the only one who remembers.

But no one has ever asked, and no one has ever said it, as if this is how you can deceive yourself and others. You have never experienced all the meetings of love, parting, and resentment. A little bit of karmic fire tormented——

If Qiao Tathagata remembered it, how could Mo Cangli not remember it?

Qiao Tathagata sighed, and buried her conjectures and inferences deep in the data.Out of some inexplicable procrastination mentality, he didn't progress fast in collecting the information on that book list, and Mo Cangli didn't urge this.Instead, his e-mails always ask about the murals: Has the history of the temple been found out?Is it possible to find the original sponsor?Are there any relevant local records?If there are relevant materials, they will be sent-even if the professor is urging the progress of the thesis, it is nothing more than that.

These issues are difficult to explain in a few words in an email exchange.Qiao Rulai then carried the collected information on her back, and rode a bicycle to Mo Cangli's house in the deeper and deeper spring.The trees on the slope seem to be lush and lush in a blink of an eye, and the shade of the trees is almost intertwined to cover the entire slope. However, it is still panting when riding up the slope-although the slope is not steep, it is long enough.He used to park his car outside the courtyard of Mo Cangli's home, and when he walked into the courtyard, he did not forget to add some fish food for the red carp in the pond.The door of Mo Cangli's room was not locked for a long time, and he knocked on the door at first, but after a few times, Mo Cangli got impatient and told him to come up directly.

The owner of the small courtyard spends most of his time in front of the computer, the table is full of materials stacked all over the room, and the reproductions of the two mural sketches have been pasted on the wall—Qiao Rulai can’t guess that Mo Cangli asked the professor for it Anyway, this person must have his own way.Mo Cangli always skipped the small talk, and asked directly: How did you find out about XX?

So Qiao Tathagata spread out the information and honestly told what she had learned.The history of this temple dates back 500 years ago. It adheres to the Zen sect in the north, or it may be related to the Buddhist country. At the beginning, the supporters were so-and-so and so-and-so. The age of the temple and how it corresponds to the records in the temple can be seen to be more credible.Of course, these materials are helpful, but they are just cocoons beyond the truth. If they are not extracted one by one, they will not be able to clear the clouds and see the fog.

Mo Cangli listened quietly and nodded.When rushing to draft, he would wear a pair of anti-blue light glasses, and he would hold it in his hand when listening to the Tathagata report and check the information.His fingers are very long, the kind that are very suitable for typing on the keyboard, and the gesture of holding the glasses is like a flower.Qiao Rulai occasionally looked at his fingers, inexplicably thinking of the night in Yeyu Mountain, but didn't dare to think too much.And behind Mo Cangli, that Shura was entangled with heaven and man, forming an endless cycle of reincarnation.

Dependent origin and extinction.

So Qiao Rulai closed the stapled copy materials: "——here it is, Mr. Mo."

Mo Cangli nodded, as if sinking into his own thoughts again.

Qiao Rulai got up silently and left, not forgetting to water the flowers and trees in the yard before leaving.

After Ming Doctor found out about his coming to be an assistant, Ming Doctor invited Qiao Ru to a good vegetarian restaurant near the school to have a meal in order to comfort him for his hard work: "Hey, my friend has a weird temper and is boring. It's really troublesome for you to be his assistant."

"No, Mr. Mo is very easy to get along with. However," Qiao Rulai smiled, "the requirements are really strict."

"He is a man who writes novels as seriously as he writes papers. This time it's you, and he drove away several editors before..." The doctor of the underworld shook his head, as if he couldn't bear to look directly at the history of blood and tears in the past, "Back then He studied for a Ph.D. in history and graduated three years ahead of schedule. When he was defending, the tutor couldn't get in the way. He received half a dozen letters of appointment, but he turned around and started writing novels. Alas, Mo Cangli, that guy, I never understood, In short, I know that what he decides is basically not wrong.”

"I know." It always has been.

"I will call him and tell him not to squeeze you too much. After all, you are still a student, and you are not an editor he is used to instructing. If it is really impossible, you can let him go for a day or two. There is no such rush..." Medic Ming thought After thinking about it, she began to repeat the routine, Qiao Rulai nodded her head one by one, and when she finally went out after dinner, she asked casually, "Professor, do you still remember what topic Mr. Mo did in his thesis?" ?"

"I still remember that the topic of the history department is long and convoluted."

The underworld doctor didn't care.

Qiao Rulai didn't pursue the question any further. After returning home, she used the school VPN to search the dissertation database. The title of the dissertation was Exploring the Origin of Transportation in the Early Nine Worlds (of course, it couldn't be a topic related to Mohism).After thinking about it, he still didn't click the download link, but directly exited the page.

The day Qiao Rulai finally found all the materials on the book list and copied them was almost summer vacation.His term paper was handed in, and the old professor said that if he worked hard and revised it, he could submit to a core journal—of course, there was no rush.During the few days when he revised the thesis, he first sent an email to Mo Cangli to ask for leave, saying that he would definitely bring all the materials there—and Mo Cangli did not send any more emails to promote the development (maybe it was because the doctor of the underworld was really I called to remind him not to be too hard on the students).He didn't ride a bicycle, but walked up the long slope slowly as he did when he visited for the first time. The acacias were in full bloom all over the street, and the ground was covered with fine white flowers.As usual, Qiao Tathagata fed the fish before entering the house. He was already familiar with these days, so he went upstairs to the study.

However, apart from the table full of documents, Mo Cangli was not there.

Qiao Rulai hesitated whether to put the information here or go back and contact first