Red door

The editor called him early in the morning and asked him when he would have time to go to the bookstore to hold a book signing, and he had to arrange it early.

Luo Ye smiled bitterly and said, "I'm just a lowly character."

"You are no longer, Mr. Writer," the old man said cheerfully, "I'm going to hand you over to Sister Chen. I'm going to retire, and I can't bear it anymore."

Sister Chen is ten years younger than the old man. Because of her aggressive personality, everyone who has worked in the editorial department calls her sister.The old man also teased her from time to time.

"What will you do when you retire?"

"Accompany my wife, the child has grown up, she is alone at home, she still doesn't like to go out, no one can accompany her." The old man's tone was a little regretful, and he said: "It would be nice if I met you ten years earlier La."

Luo Ye understood, "Say hello to Auntie for me."

"Success!" The old editor said boldly: "You have to take what I told you seriously, remember, the signing event! Hey, I still have something to talk to Zhou Mei, let's talk when I have time."

Luo Ye stood quietly beside the phone, of course he was happy, happy and proud, like sitting naked on a rock, letting the tide of happiness drown his whole body.

I am indeed a writer, he thought.

Luo Ye went to knock on the door of his father's study room, and after getting the answer, he pushed the door open and said, "I have my own book signing."

There was warmth in his father's eyes, "Congratulations, writer."

At this moment, when the sun was shining, he regretted that his muse, who was like a storm and wind, was like Cinderella without a pumpkin cart, and he had no chance to celebrate this day with him.Luo Ye planned to write down all the important moments in his life that He Yuan had missed, and read ten of them to him, so as to see the annoyance he couldn't hide.

After weighing the pros and cons, he still needs to go to the salon. The literati's salon is full of love, hate, and hatred. He always suspects that one day there will be a murder case there. Whether it is saving people or testifying, it is very troublesome. thing.

Luo Ye was picking out ties one by one with the wardrobe open, when suddenly it began to rain sparingly outside, the rain was not loud, but the thunder was very loud, and he immediately relaxed, this tormenting salon, he just started today No need to go.

He Yuan stepped out of the mirror, walked with a limp, and plunged into the quilt without even giving Luo Ye a look.

Luo Ye felt that this was unusual, so he walked over and patted him on the shoulder lightly: "How is it?"

"not good?"

He suddenly recalled the last time he committed suicide to bid farewell to his mother, and every muscle in his body tensed up. Luo Ye asked, "Did you commit suicide again?"

"I didn't!" He Yuan changed his mind wearily: "I remember that you were very popular with your classmates when you were in school. How did you do it? Can you give me an idea?"

"What happened to your foot?"

He Yuan swallowed: "My father kicked it."

"Where's your mother? Didn't she come to stop him?" In Luo Ye's view, this was almost unimaginable. How old is He Yuan?A high school student can't support himself, and lives under the fence of his own family, like a walking punching bag. Luo Ye thought, my lover has the best brain, surprisingly good empathy, and is a simple and kind person. Why would someone To hurt him?

"My mother is talking to the upstairs neighbor about when to go to tell the fortune." He Yuan smiled quietly. He felt that his bones were rotten. He really deserved to be a second-rate product made by his father's inferior genes. After expressing his helplessness and pain, he knew that it was useless to cry and beg for mercy to heartless people like his parents, so he complained to Luo Ye.

Because he knows that Luo Ye loves him in his 20s, Ai Wu and Wu also have a good impression of him.Seeing Luo Ye suffering from his pain, he felt an inexplicable joy in his heart for no reason. He said: "I broke it with a broom handle. I know the bone is not broken, but it still hurts."

He asked again: "Is this a mirror image? The shadow doesn't need to go to any hospital."

Luo Ye patted him on the shoulder and comforted him: "We're going to the hospital right now, even if we are a shadow, don't be a lame shadow, and let other shadows laugh at you."

He Yuan tried his best to raise his upper body, and the young man's long chest was pressed tightly against Luo Ye's chest. Luo Ye heard his heartbeat and breathing, and his exhausted lover hugged him tightly.

"Plato?"

"what?"

"Plato fucks/Little boy, you know that?"

"I don't do it."

"If we don't mess with Plato, we'll have sex/love," He Yuan said with certainty in his tone, as if he was sure that every word he said would become a reality.

Admitting "Plato" means having sex with him, but not admitting "Plato" means not admitting spiritual love, and the ending is still going to bed.

His cunning lover uses her means to woo him.

This is a language trap, of course Luo Ye can hear it, but he said: "Your state is not suitable, and I don't have safety/safety/protection around me."

"Then go buy it, I'm going to sleep with you today."

There is a kind of innocence in his eyes, he wants to be loved too much, but at the same time he doesn't believe that he is indeed loved, and he desperately wants to use all means to understand how he is loved.

"I love you, I love you very much." Luo Ye understood him. They didn't have any deep conversations about him, but he could understand his frequency, and he was used to making others comfortable: "If you feel uncomfortable, go Take a nap, but you have to know that I do love you, but I don't sleep with minors."

"But I will grow up," He Yuan bewitched him: "In my memory we fell asleep, this is what happened."

Speaking of the muse's ability to predict the future, Luo Ye couldn't help laughing: "I still remember a few of your prophecies."

"Ok?"

"You said that I would become an unknown writer. Seriously, I am ready." Luo Ye looked at him tolerantly: "Guess what I have prepared?"

Knowing that he was not sure, He Yuan shook his head.

"I thought at the time, I must write something for you, because you are my muse." He smiled shyly as he said this: "I am ready to be kicked out by my father, eating black bread and old godmother every day I spent my days, writing second-rate works, earning poor manuscript fees, being scolded bloody by editors every day, and finally died on the street because of drinking too much alcohol."

He Yuan showed a rare embarrassing smile.

"I love you, without you, my muse," he said, "I would be a dull actor, acting in dramas, wasting my pretty face on the wine table, you have to believe me, I will definitely be like this did. But with you, everything is different."

He also said: "If you are willing to be by my side on the day I die, I will die of joy."

He Yuan pursed his lips, "Tell you a good idea, a good idea that caught my attention."

"what?"

"When you are old, don't use old photos as your girdle, use your 27-year-old photo," He Yuan raised his head slightly, "I will meet you when I see sex, you are my king, and I will show you Please be safe, you are my master, and I will be your loyal dog."

"A loyal dog? You?" Luo Ye couldn't help laughing: "You look like He Yuan."

The orange cat that He Yuan pointed to now weighs fourteen catties, and is already a heavyweight player among house cats.

"I'm not so fat." He muttered dissatisfiedly, and after a long silence he asked, "Can you guess what my mother's fortune-telling came up with?"

Luo Ye asked with a smile: "Do you think you are a prosperous man?"

He Yuan clapped his hands and laughed, "You are so right, when do you want to marry me?"

An interview with "Hundred Flowers Literature and Art Review"

"Hundred Flowers Literature and Art Review": When did you first write?

Luo Ye: When I was a teenager and in high school, I was eager to vent my emotions. I had so much to say when I was young. I was very good at making friends, but the conversation I needed was the conversation with books, so I So I started writing novels, hoping for a kind of inner peace.

"Hundred Flowers Literature and Art Review": Has it never stopped? 40 years without a break?

Luo Ye: There was a break, I was lost, like walking into a fog, I didn't know where my path was, and I didn't know who I was writing for.Like a wind-up music box slack, inspiration has dried up.

"Hundred Flowers Literature and Art Review": Then in college, your muse appeared?Then you started your writing career again, didn't you?

Luo Ye: Right.Both problems.My muse is a mysterious person, and he is my good reader, he is amazingly perceptive, we exchange literature, I tell him my ideas, or he reads my manuscript, he can always help me finalize Details or adjust the rhythm.

You know, a good reader is so important.I am blind because of love. I love my novels deeply, and I love every character I write so deeply that I dare not pour some bad things on my characters.

That's when my muse would hold on tight, saying, "Hit him! Hurt him like you loved him! Hurt him hard!"

I got his inspiration, I did it, and my work flowed in blood.

"Hundred Flowers Literary Review": Then what kind of environment do you usually write in?

Luo Ye: I can write at any time. At first I wrote novels in high school, and I wrote them in a notebook, densely packed.During the holidays, I bought very expensive Daolin paper and bound them together, made very thin grids with pencils, and wrote on them with M-tip pens or freshly sharpened pencils.I remember writing like this for a long time, so that I am still used to recording my inspiration like this. The editor tried to persuade me to write it on paper, but the first draft, if I didn’t write like this, I would have no inspiration and no sense of security, and patience would be out of the question. .

I like the wind, not the kind of biting cold wind, I hope it brings a little moisture.It would be better if there was heavy rain, lightning and thunder, and everything else was silent, I really love that feeling.