After the white moonlight cuts the black

General Dong's soldiers and horses captured the city, spent extravagantly in November, and built a low-temperature palace, but the Snow Maiden did not come to be favored for a long time.

Yan Hui's abnormal reaction came and went quickly.

Meng Huaiming wiped off the water stains on his face with a paper towel, a thin layer of red appeared on Yan Hui's cheeks, it was terribly hot, it was a method that could burn through the paper.

He was feverish in a morbid state, but cool ice slag fell out of his bones, and his teeth collided with each other, making a small clucking sound. He screamed so badly just now that his vocal cords could be screamed out by him, and now his Adam's apple is struggling to move up and down.

Meng Huaiming was half asleep and half awake when he heard the first cry, and his heart, liver, spleen, lungs and kidneys were severely whipped once.

Yan Hui took a sip of water from Meng Huaiming's hand, and there was a light red mark on the edge of the glass, he bit his lower lip, blood came out, his throat was full of fishy sweetness, it was strangely uncomfortable.

He was not very conscious, turned over and turned his back to Meng Huaiming, like an angry child, refusing possible communication in the most stupid way.

The sky in the early morning was pure black, and the ticking of the wall clock became so loud.

Meng Huaiming gently closed the door, walked to the kitchen, took out a can of Snow Beer from the refrigerator, and pulled open the ring bolt forcefully, the tight and empty bubbles filled his chest in an instant.

Abstract pain, densely lingering, Meng Huaiming drank half a night of stuffy wine, with thousands of descriptions, none of which he understood.

The plan to start work on the script was postponed, and Meng Huaiming had to ask Yan Hui to treat his illness.

When Yan Hui got up, she still looked sleepy, but when her eyes touched Meng Huaiming, she evaded and shrank imperceptibly.

Meng Huaiming got in touch with a psychological counselor, who agreed to come to the house for consultation. After learning on the phone that Yanhui's close relative was suffering from schizophrenia, he was vaccinated in advance. If the result of the consultation was suspected of mental illness, he still had to be sent to the hospital.

Meng Huaiming was silent, and this familiar process jumped from the script to the present.

The consultation time was 10 minutes. Meng Huaiming read the script of "Honey Pot" over and over again on the soft leather sofa in the lobby. The night of the deadline.

He remembered that Yan Hui made a large table of dishes, which was as sumptuous as a couple's last supper before farewell. The scented candles were lit, and the sweet fragrance surrounded them softly.

Meng Huaiming got drunk, stood up and asked Yan Hui to dance, he saw the young man's eyes suddenly wide open, his cold white skin was dyed crimson, burning from the base of his ears to his cheeks.

This apple hanging high on the branch is plump and juicy, juicy without knowing it, lonely and unclear, never loved, obviously flattered, and still holding a little bit of sense, it is a pretending stubborn little lover.

They were too close and their breaths were wetly entangled.

Yan Hui's knowledge of dance theory is rich, but his practical skills are poor. His body is stiff, and his fingertips are consciously or unconsciously scratching the back of Meng Huaiming's hand.

Meng Huaiming's breath blows away the broken hair on Yan Hui's forehead, and also blows away the shyness and vague confusion between his brows.

He failed to grasp this ray of melancholy, Meng Huaiming grabbed the back of Yan Hui's neck and brought him into his arms.

Yan Hui's eyes looked over his shoulders, and fell on the blue-white moon outside the window, illuminating the Sapinberry branches and leaves in the courtyard. Meng Huaiming said, "Yan Hui, the next book is called 'Dear Man by the Window', okay?" good?"

Yan Hui was silent, and wrapped him in with his arms, hugging Meng Huaiming like hugging a tree, the suit material abraded the palm lines so painfully, a layer of skin could be peeled off with a little tugging.

Yan Hui agreed to him softly, and said a name in a low voice: "Ye Ziqing, the protagonist is called Ye Ziqing." After a pause, he added: "I will give you the best Mr. Ye."

But "The Best Mr. Ye" is Su Yaowen's projection.

At that time, Yan Hui didn't have many things, and he was just trying to make ends meet. He arranged Meng Huaiming's mansion in an orderly manner, relying only on his survival instinct and referring to a large number of videos and articles.

Yan Hui has never been very rich, and the gap between him and Meng Huaiming is not only education and family background, but vision and vision.

From material entities to social etiquette, from fly camping dogs to night walks in brocade clothes.

Yan Hui had only heard of many things before, and understood them through the screen. When he wrote them down neatly in his notebook, Meng Huaiming had already played with them amidst the applause.

Yan Hui is talking on paper, but he knows that as long as one thing is done slowly and carefully, mistakes can be avoided. Things he doesn't know, he can learn, and he can also step up to learn secretly.

Meng Huaiming laughed, "It's a good name."

At that moment, even Meng Huaiming didn't realize that the image in his mind was Yanhui's Ye Ziqing, not Su Yaowen's Ye Ziqing.

The door of the room opened with a click, and the consultant was the first to make a silent gesture, signaling him to talk in another place.

Meng Huaiming led him to the balcony. The noon sun was the only remaining tenderness in winter, and it melted the chill on Consultant He and Meng Huaiming.

The consultant didn't make a fool of himself: "It's like this. Mr. Yan already has a long-term appointment with a psychiatrist whose surname is Xu. I don't know how he consulted with Dr. Xu, but at present, Mr. Yan's skills are too strong. He is familiar with the measurement process and the way of answering questions, and the defense mechanism in the conversation is very heavy, and we cannot establish a consulting relationship."

"Then, does he have any other symptoms?" Meng Huaiming said awkwardly.

Mr. He frowned: "I'm not sure about his cycle time, acute transient mental disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder? What did he go through some time ago? You told me that her sister was schizophrenic, did he do it? What stimulated him?"

"I don't know." Meng Huaiming knew nothing about Yan Hui's situation some time ago.

"And you know he's been hallucinating intrusively?"

"what?"

Counselor He held back the thought of sighing: "He said that he sometimes sees people but can't see the face clearly, but he can clearly recognize your image in the hallucination. And the last time this happened was last night , He said that after you left, he had hallucinations."

Meng Huaiming remembered the day he came back from rebirth, how Yan Hui half coaxed and half tricked him with a knife to kill him.

But this morning, Yan Hui clearly had unwarranted fear of him.

What did that "Meng Huaiming" who went back and forth did to him?

"Mr. Meng, don't think of me as a consultant next, I just mentioned it in passing."

Mr. He hesitated, and said slowly: "That is, if Mr. Yan has any other relatives, it is best to contact them now. He is currently in an environment with many stress factors. It is not easy to be a family member of a mental patient. Having false hallucinations and engaging in creative work is also a kind of oppression. If things go on like this, it will have a great impact on his own health."

This consultant He was introduced by Chen Shao, and he is much kinder than that dude.

Consultant He has good eyesight, he has no position to say these words, and there is no guarantee that he will cause much trouble if he says more.

He could tell that Meng Huaiming was either Yan Hui's boyfriend, or simply the patron. The master wouldn't care about Canary's life, not to mention that they seemed to have clear boundaries, and there was alienation in their closeness.

Out of humanity, or to take care of the mentally precarious visitor in the house, counselor He couldn't bear to ask: "Well, Mr. Meng, although I have not established a consulting relationship with him, I still hope that if You decide to accompany him, um...he will ask you."

After Meng Huaiming heard this, he lowered his head and said, "Thank you."

Consultant He knew that he meant to see off the guests, so he consciously picked up his bag and left.

Meng Huaiming dialed Jiang Hua's number and asked him to contact a doctor surnamed Xu. When he returned to the room, he saw that Yan Hui was already fully dressed.

"I want to go out for a walk."

"Can I go?" Meng Huaiming asked.

Yan Hui raised the corner of her mouth: "What about the script?"

"Let's write at night, it's not a few hours away." Meng Huaiming turned around to get his coat, and handed Yan Hui a hand-woven scarf. His movements were casual, and he didn't ask any more questions, let alone a nervous expression.

I didn't go very far when I went out, so I walked back and forth by the artificial lake downstairs.

Meng Huaiming was not afraid of Yanhui getting close to the water, he could always hold him back, and he was not afraid of him jumping into the lake. When this idea came up, Meng Huaiming was shocked.

If you have tasted death, you should be able to control life. Meng Huaiming has seen Yan Hui die in front of him. The blood dripped all over the ground, softening the scorched asphalt, making it greasy, sticky, and fluffy. Can't stand their weight.

He almost couldn't hold Yan Hui, and his body sank down.The vehicles on the left and right honked their flutes and raised their heads. At the end of the traffic lights, there was a bright light, such a grand spring.

Did Yan Hui feel relieved at that moment?

Meng Huaiming stared at the tassels of Yan Hui's dangling scarf, he tried hard to recall the appearance of Yan Hui lying in his arms, but he couldn't remember anything.

The only thing that is clear is the sentence "I'm sorry", which is heavier than the evening drum, heavier than the morning bell, and more awake than the [-] pestles after the death of the king.

Holding the wooden railings with both hands, the grass-green lake is reflected in the glasses with swallow gray exposed on the outside of the scarf. It is not clear enough, but the smell is good. Half of the weeping willow with crooked neck is snuggled into the water.

Yan Hui's fingers moved a few centimeters away, revealing a line of words carved with a knife, unethical behavior, and crooked handwriting, probably from a certain pair of young people who were blinded by love.

He could imagine the picture, the young couple saw this willow tree which is particularly hydrophilic, the clear water is microwave, the spring and Jingming, they were so emotional, their heads were hot, they wrote such ambiguous sentences, and they dared not write the whole sentence. .

"The Great Thousand World...is as long as a kiss of tongue, as thin as a line of poetry."*

Yan Hui pursed his lips and smiled, the rootless love beat his body, just like the hatred that could not be grounded, they had no support, they just filled the hole in his heart empty, like using a sponge to block a broken dam.

This may be one of the symptoms, perhaps his cranky thinking.

He was no longer afraid of the hallucinations of last night, and he couldn't hear the sound of the door lock, so he knew that "Meng Huaiming" was an illusion. This time he made a clear distinction, self-knowledge prevailed, and he soberly endured the punishment of nothingness.

The "opponent" had a compassionate expression, his brows twitched, restrained his nausea and disgust, approached his ear, whispered softly, and said the assessment that frequently fell into dreams.

——The tone of "him" is exactly the same as that of Yan Ran back then.

The cool wind poured into the nostrils, cleansing away the filth and sins of the world, Yan Hui looked sideways at Meng Huaiming, the man was tall and tall, with broad shoulders and long legs, and a double-breasted windbreaker that was slim and straight.

He is a good-looking man, exuding the temptation of words such as follow me, let me love, I will be here, come to depend on, and indulge me.

Pure longing and skillful methods are his way of loving, he skillfully comforts every lover, and eventually they will graduate from him, now Su Yaowen has also graduated, and it is not only him who is slow to graduate Yan Hui alone?

And Yan Hui felt that he was no longer qualified and had no position, and now he had no place to be worthy of even a little bit.

He doesn't deserve it.

Reason and heart run counter to each other.

The root of love and hate is like a long withdrawal.

"Go back, Fengliang."

Meng Huaiming approached, unaware that the phrase "cool wind" was a poison to Yan Hui in the past.

The sun shattered at the bottom of the lake, and Meng Chuqi, who came here on purpose, raised his camera from a distance, and captured the figures of the two people by the lake and the broken Golden Crow.

The author has something to say: * Tagore's poem "The worldputsoffitsmaskofvastnesstoitslover.Itbecomes□□allasonesong, asonekisssoftheeternal." Feng Tang translation: The world puts off its pants｜crotch in front of a lover, as long as a tongue kiss, as slender as a line of poetry.Much debated, here is a selfish quote as a purely sensual animal.