Red door

He Yuan is also hostile to this girl, his eyes are sharp like knives, and he has a smile on his mouth, "Did I bother you? But there is indeed no place elsewhere."

"It's all right," the girl named Ann Marie said with a smile, "It's never too late to talk between us."

Mary is a smart girl, she knows how to play tricks at all times, she is not in a hurry to confess to Luo Ye, the confession may be rejected, but for her, of course not, at least when she loves him and needs him, of course No.Another good idea is to let everyone know that they like him, so that not only will the girls leave him, but the boys will follow suit and forcefully push him in front of them.She knew these immature young men all too well.

One sentence easily poked his pain, and when the tip of the chopsticks touched, He Yuan froze. After a long while, he forced a smile and said, "Some things are well said earlier, and the earlier they are said, the earlier they will be rejected."

"Did I say something wrong?" She didn't know who He Yuan was talking about, her left hand wearing a gauze glove crossed the table and put it on his arm, and said with concern: "Where there is no grass in the end of the world, you can't hang yourself On the crooked neck tree for a moment, an affectionate man like you deserves better."

He Yuan withdrew his arm unobtrusively, glanced at Luo Ye, and said, "He is the best."

"If the person I love says that about me to others, I'll wake up laughing in my dreams," the girl shook her shoulders coquettishly, looking at Luo Ye meaningfully.Luo Ye ignored both of them, and single-mindedly picked out the minced garlic from the dinner plate. He didn't like it, because after eating it, there was always a taste in his mouth.

"Now I love him too," He Yuan pushed the fruit box to Luo Ye and the mints to Mary, "We will keep in touch again."

Ann Marie smiled: "You are an old-fashioned infatuated person. You will definitely not see her. You will cry when you see her. Can you contact her by letter?"

"Not really." He Yuan rolled his eyes: "I contact him by dreaming, and there is always him in my dreams."

Mary knew that he didn't want to say more.

The rain outside became heavier, and the dense raindrops hit the glass. Luo Ye took a piece of watermelon and ate it, then put the plate back into the recycling place, and walked out.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?"

"Not really." Luo Ye didn't dare to look him in the eye, and lowered his head, "I'm a helpless 17-year-old student, I don't know why I deserve your love."

Perhaps because he was once the darling of a masked muse, he is empathetic and extremely sensitive to emotions.Luo Ye knew that what He Yuan said was not mixed with lies, but since the day he was away from the pen, this wonderful ability made his mind very noisy.Other people's love and hatred, other people's love, hatred, anger and ignorance, all attack him and stimulate him.Now He Yuan is trying to shake him with his grand love, if he is still the author full of wonderful ideas, he will definitely respond to that love with intense emotion.However, that was already in the past, the thick wall in his heart imperviously blocked the roses that He Yuan handed out.

"There is nothing worthy or not." He Yuan pulled a chair and sat down: "You are my salvation, you are my muse, because you will always be yourself, so I will always love you."

"Are you a poet, or a writer?"

"No, I'm a reader, the best reader."

"Do readers need some advice from Muse these days?"

"The best readers need, the best readers need wholehearted love, a romantic feeling." He shrugged his shoulders pretending to be relaxed, "I lived by my love for you, and I lived hard until I was 20 years old. Continue to live, for love until the end of life."

"You must be very good at writing love poems." Luo Ye said sincerely: "Or before I knew it, all readers had the potential to write poems?"

"I don't know," He Yuan said, "Poetry is a burst of inspiration and a gift from God. I wanted to write about it in the past, but whether it is Shiva, Vishnu or Infinity God, no god has favored me. All I can think of The words have been written by others."

"It's a bit miserable, like?"

"Too many, for example, I can sit by your side and talk till dark."

"Then please forgive me," Luo Ye clasped his hands together and bowed reverently twice.

He Yuan opened a bottle of soda and handed it to him: "You really don't want to write anymore?"

"Never again," he said firmly. "I'm like Don Quixote pointing a spear at a windmill. Maybe I should be more realistic. It's good for me."

"You will change your mind." Sitting on the chair, He Yuan stretched out his arms as hard as he could, and the water splashed into his palm, "I know your struggle, but your choice is your destiny, I hope very much Met you. I really love you."

The high wall in Luo Ye's heart was broken, and the soft surface was exposed again. It belonged to the muse. He clumsily wanted to record this moment of inspiration, but the smiling face of the invited aunt appeared in his mind again. Here, great shame and embarrassment gripped him, and he couldn't write!I can't write it either!

Not long after, the rain stopped, the sky cleared up unexpectedly, and the emotional agitation in his heart also stopped. He looked around, and there was no one on the chair.

Boys in their twenties are seldom quiet, and they can't stand being pushed by others. Later, when the moon rose, a boy shared his wonderful idea of ​​how to escape to the countryside, and the others followed suit.There is a bar that is not a bar at the foot of the mountain. From a distance, the signboard is crumbling on the verge of bankruptcy.

A team of 16 descended along the rugged mountain road, and the silver moon was like the face of a dead woman.

Luo Ye came out to watch the wind, but when an overactive classmate handed him the wine list, he knew that he would inevitably get drunk today.

However, he couldn't trust the bartending skills of this bar, so he only ordered a glass of beer, held it in his hand and looked passively at one of the boys and said aggressively, "I've never been to a bar."

There is almost no one else in this bar except them and a bunch of guys under 20 years old.You have a pair of wild mandarin ducks, but the rings on your hands are not a pair.

He took a sip of his beer and felt a tightness in his chest.Of course, Luo Ye does not reject the joy of playing video games and playing mahjong in bars, but what can really entertain him is a more powerful and long-lasting entertainment method. It is not so much writing as it is immortality.

Luo Ye is sincere about writing. He dreamed of his draft like a pregnant woman. When he looked back at his ink, his soul seemed to return to that time and space.

At that time, he knew that a writer does not exist alone, and the author's life is placed in the works.He once devoted himself to it, and that kind of passion was engraved in the horizontal folds and strokes of every word. Whenever he thinks of it, he is proud and happy.

When the school newspaper reporter walked into the bar, the group of boys who were having a good time caused a brief commotion.

The school reporter joked: "Write you into the manuscript, and my task will be completed."

A boy begged for mercy: "Don't, don't, senior sister."

The school reporter ordered a drink and said, "I don't care. I'm a reporter. I just write and don't care about anything else."

At this time, it started to rain again, and the neon lamp shell was covered with raindrops. A familiar slender figure walked to the bar and raised his arms: "Red Fang, add soda water."

Then he sat beside Luo Ye and blinked his left eye: "It's a long night, is there anything you can drink to relieve your sorrow?"

Then he said, "Is your muse finally giving up on you?"

The bartender pushed the wine glass to his side, and He Yuan patted Luo Ye on the shoulder: "Charge it to his account."

"There are no muses," Luo Ye raised his wine glass, "The one who accompanied them was caught by the school newspaper reporter."

"What a sad story." He shrugged, not caring much.

"You should have pity on me too, because I came with them."

But He Yuan said: "Of course I will always face you with all my emotions."

"here we go again,"

The plots of the characters in his own pen gradually emerge again, those characters that seem to have existed in the world, those plots that seem to have happened... He used to treat writing so truthfully, but now he is "before seeing this flower, this flower and you Return to silence together."

One day in He Yuan's childhood

"The muse of the late Mr. Luo Ye was a lady who appeared on the night of lightning and rain," the hostess on TV had a proper smile on her lips. "This is really a poetic statement. All his poems and The novel has her shadow."

"Mr. Luo Ye is very concerned about women and children who are victims of domestic violence, and has also established relevant rescue organizations, aiming to enable every woman and child who has suffered domestic violence to escape from their families."

His mother walked up to him: "He Yuan, you have watched the rerun for the third time, do you like this writer very much?"

"No, I just thought he looked familiar,"

Familiar was a good vague word, and his mother wouldn't take it to heart.But when Lin Daiyu entered Jia's mansion, Jia Baoyu said, "I have seen this my sister." Zhang Ailing said the same when she saw Hu Lancheng: "Where are you too?"

He is reluctant to talk to his mother now, he loves her very much, but she is undoubtedly negligent.As a mother, she never stopped her father's violence against him, and she didn't have the courage to leave the family. She even gave false testimony for her husband, so that he escaped the legal sanction of domestic violence.

This time my father hit harder.He even felt that he was going to be beaten to death. He went to the hospital and suffered a concussion. He couldn't die, so he dropped out of school and went home to lie on the bed and watch TV.

People who write novels always have some eccentricities, and Luo Ye is even more eccentric. He insisted that his muse would come on a rainy night, and in the rainy private hospital, he pulled out the oxygen tube at the last quarter of his life and staggered away. Got into the rainstorm outside the hospital and died.

Readers who mourned him said sadly: "He certainly answered the call of the tragic muse Melpomene."

You can't die, He Yuan thought, why did such an interesting and good person like you die?If I appear by your side, I will definitely let you live.