like love

When Zhou Weixia arrived in London, the weather was fine and it was a sunny afternoon.Shen Yunman asked her classmate when she was studying abroad to pick him up and take him into the apartment she bought before.

His cold was already very serious. After getting off the plane, it was as if two balls of cotton were stuffed in his ears, and everything he heard was foggy.

The other party was quite enthusiastic and helped to clean the room in advance.Zhou Weixia said thank you lightly, said goodbye to others, turned around and fell asleep in the bedroom for a long time.

He didn't eat much for almost a day or two, and when he woke up, his stomach hurt badly.It was four o'clock in the morning, the sunrise was very early in London's summer, and the sky had already begun to brighten. The bright sunshine from yesterday came in through the curtains he hadn't drawn.

His suitcase was dumped in the hallway, and his mobile phone was placed on the tea table in the living room.Zhou Weixia dragged his tired body to pour a glass of water. After drinking, he picked up his cell phone and looked, it was his sister's call.

It was still morning in China at this time, Shen Yunman received his call back, he was relieved knowing that he was safe and well, and told him to take good care of himself.

After Zhou Weixia said yes, he hung up the phone and searched in the suitcase for a long time, and finally found the domestic calling card.

He squeezed the small card, squatted until his legs felt a little numb, rubbed his breathless nose, and put the phone card back into the phone.

The startup time was extremely long, and Zhou Weixia never took his eyes off the screen for a second.He stared closely, for fear of missing a word.

But the signal is connected, everything is normal, nothing.

Text messages, missed calls, WeChat... nothing.

He sat in front of the window, the sunlight gradually filled his body, but the phone screen gradually dimmed.Zhou Weixia closed his eyes, feeling a little warmth.

As if to remind him that now he was living in the London summer.The previous summer in City A, like the movie I watched while hiding in Ye Xingzhi's arms that night, was just an illusion.

Zhou Weixia counted very clearly, he waited for ten days for an explanation.

He decided not to wait any longer.

He took out the phone card and put it back in the bottom pocket of the suitcase calmly.After a while, I drew the curtains tightly and fell asleep again.

Five years later, in the small town of Nuenen on the outskirts of Eindhoven, the Netherlands.

"Journey sending in lovers meeting."

"Wandering ends at the meeting of lovers."

Zhou Weixia lay on the side of the long wooden table, scribbled down these two lines of text, pasted them on a photo, and then put them into a large working folder in front of him.

"Hey, Shakespeare, is the evaluation so romantic?" He poked his head out behind him, apparently seeing his actions just now.The visitor smiled and said to him, "It seems that you have the same vision as my father."

Zhou Weixia smiled, and stepped aside a little, "Where's the teacher?"

The young man pointed upstairs, "I should be busy directing people to move his treasured paintings." He said, picking up Zhou Weixia's work folder, and found that photo again, "But my dad's painting doesn't seem very good. Worth the money..."

He read the title of the painting, "Knulp Number 19."

Zhou Weixia laughed, and reached out to take the things back, "It doesn't depend on the price whether the painting is good." He glanced at the painting again, and said, "It should be the work of some cutting-edge painter."

"I don't understand." The young man took a last glance, "Why is it called Knulp? What does one hand have to do with Hesse's book?"

"It doesn't necessarily refer to that book, maybe he just wanted to use this word." Zhou Weixia explained while packing his things.

"Oh—" the young man dragged his voice, walked behind Zhou Weixia shaking his head and said, "Wandering soul..."

There are many classic scenes of Van Gogh's paintings in the small town of Nuenen. Some painters like to open studios or buy a vacation house here. Zhou Weixia's teacher after graduation is one of them.

"Teacher Yan." Zhou Weixia returned from the courtyard to the living room of the villa, and greeted the people who came downstairs with a smile.

"Xiao Zhou, how are you? Do you have any ideas for the exhibition?" Teacher Yan was smoking a cigarette while flipping through a booklet in his hand. After reading it, he casually put it on the stairs and asked kindly.

"It's a little bit." Zhou Weixia shook the folder in his hand, "I'll show you later."

Although he studied business at university, Zhou Weixia participated in several activities curated by his father's friends during his studies, and gradually developed a little interest in curating.

Going around, I still did work related to my parents' career.

He is now 25 years old and has just graduated for two years. The teacher who brought him has some friendship with his father, and he usually takes good care of him. He has slowly let him go and lead the planning.

"This exhibition is very small, so we will show it to people in our circle. A few friends will join us, and they will bring a few pieces from the collection. If you have any ideas, you can try it boldly."

"Okay. Thank you teacher."

"Dad, that painting "Knulp No. 19", which artist's work is it?" Yan Ping, who had walked away, turned back at some time and said with a cup of coffee, "Brother Zhou just said with certainty that it is a new artist .”

Zhou Weixia looked at him dumbfounded, "Are you serious?"

"That painting..." Teacher Yan thought for a while, and said leisurely, "Yes, it was drawn by a young man who is not well-known."

"When I returned to China last time, I saw it from Lao Su. He said that a former student finished painting and put it here for consignment."

"Uncle Su?" Zhou Weixia asked casually, "Did you go to City B?"

"Yeah." Teacher Yan turned to go upstairs, beckoning them to come up, "I remember that painting seems to be a series of works. But I like this one the most, so I bought it."

Zhou Weixia followed him upstairs, and said by the way, "I want to see other works in this series because of what you said."

"Hey, wait for me." Yan Ping stepped up the stairs, chasing after Zhou Weixia, "Are all of you curators with such sharp eyes? Can you tell if you are new or not?"

Zhou Weixia smiled and confessed as he walked upstairs, "What an amazing thing. It's just that the signature of this painting has never been seen before."

Yan Ping suddenly realized that the people coming and going on the second floor happened to be moving the painting, so he stretched his head over and took a look, "It's true, it's a strange symbol. It's not symmetrical."

Zhou Weixia was amused by his words and stopped to look at the painting. The painting was leaning against the wall, the frame was not large, the colors were very strong, and it showed a left hand that was about to be stretched out.

"Speaking of..." He didn't come closer to look at the painting, but turned his head and joked with the person beside him, "A long time ago, someone said that he would draw a hundred paintings for me."

Yan Ping raised his eyebrows and said in surprise, "Sketch? Oil painting is not easy."

Zhou Weixia turned around and walked farther and farther away from the painting, his tone sounded very indifferent, "I don't know."

"Did he draw it? It must be right, hahaha." Yan Ping said, "It takes a long time for my dad to draw a picture."

"That's right." Zhou Weixia pulled up the blinds of the corridor on the second floor, and said softly in the evening breeze with the fragrance of flowers, "Perhaps he also knows that he can't do it."