After the white moonlight cuts the black

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor lingers for a long time, and the two benches for resting are similar in style.

The back of Meng Huaiming's head hit the tiles, a similar coldness spread along his scalp, and even the ends of his knuckles lost temperature.

Yan Hui woke up once when she was in the ambulance, and the inexplicable daze and melancholy in the past dissipated completely, and her eyes were so clear that Meng Huaiming wanted to cry.

He swam for a long time in the deep sea of ​​consciousness, and finally climbed to the shore.

The broken fragments became smooth, he looked at Meng Huaiming, and quickly closed his eyes, the edge of the dream was still warm.

The nurse came out to report the results of the examination, her eyes were slightly numb, she briefly conveyed Yan Hui's injury, and then went on to do other things quickly.

Soon Yan Hui was transferred to the ward.

During the high incidence of influenza, the hospital was overcrowded. Meng Huaiming looked down at Yan Hui on the hospital bed, feeling that he had become strange and yet so familiar.

Yan Hui looked at him still holding up his energy, Meng Huaiming didn't say anything, just shook his uninjured hand.

"I don't know how to explain it."

Yan Hui blinked, her slender eyelashes were like a pair of butterflies, "But if you want to hear, I can say something else."

He was completely different from the state he had been in a while ago, and he was sober and frightening.

There was a thin line between sobriety and madness, Meng Huaiming took a deep breath.

"it is good."

"Meng Chuqi asked me if I regretted it. In fact, I am not that noble. I haven't cultivated to the state of no regrets. At least I can only do not regret in some parts."

His tone was soft, no different from the tone of a bedtime story, different from being completely out of it.

Now he has finally opened the door of memory, and he is about to tell a story that belongs to him.

"In Lanting, I didn't lie to you."

He said: "The previous rhetoric is to deceive you. It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not. At least at that moment, I really didn't intend to fool you. I am very grateful to you."

Meng Huaiming has always understood that the person who wrote about love may not believe in love himself, and Yan Hui's family split him into two parts.

Half of it is nostalgia for relatives, and the other half is training the ability to know people in repeated disappointments.

The starting point for their construction of love is reference and simulation, while the creators themselves lack original experience.

There may be two sources of true gentleness to others. One is to learn love from an early age, and use an intuitive way to tell the ability to obtain and give back love. This is the most ideal and healthy way, and too many people do not have this condition.

So one's own tempering became necessary and difficult.

They project emotions they cannot have on others, such as Meng Huaiming's habitual attachment to his lover, which is easy to make people addicted.

This is not the correct way, Yan Hui upholds that any addictive thing should be chosen to quit.

But he obviously overestimated his concentration.

Meng Huaiming broke into his heart at the turn of spring and winter with the misty rain in Lanting.

"I'm actually terrified."

Yan Hui sighed softly, "I'm afraid you will find Yan Hui like that, addictive, wanting more, very greedy Yan Hui."

He looked into his eyes as sincerely as a lover who spoke the most affectionate love language in the world.

"I want you to see me. I am not a lover you brought out from Lanting, nor a Pygmalion. Our backgrounds and origins are far apart, and the probability of making it to the end is too small."

Yan Hui bit the tip of her tongue and continued the narration through the tingling pain: "I am not an interesting person. My views are sometimes paranoid and closed, and sometimes naive and terrifying. It is a blessing to have no resentment left.”

"I think I need to find a way."

He looked up at the infusion tube, and a string of small bubbles bubbled out of the medicine.

"I have a prototype, but I don't know if it can be implemented, so when I know that you have a first love for a long time, my first reaction is not pain, but joy."

Yan Hui turned his upstream gaze back to Meng Huaiming's, and he said solemnly, "This way I can have a reason to make you addicted to me."

This pattern is actually very interesting.

After the unqualified doctor surnamed Xu learned of Yan Hui's decision, a hint of amusement appeared on his usually cold face.

Dr. Xu said: "People are making excuses for their scumbag behavior, you are not high-end."

"Just like the wife cheated after the husband cheated, when you make this decision, there is no room for the two of you to save."

"I understand." Yan Hui didn't feel guilty about being exposed at all, "I just got stuck in it and couldn't extricate myself."

Because this is much more interesting than writing in words, he moved the novel to reality and opened a powerful net.

He compiled a script for Meng Huaiming, which only he can interpret.

Meng Huaiming boasts that he can understand Yan Hui through words, but Yan Hui, who is good at shaping characters, can't. He deconstructs the person next to his pillow, and uses the insight that should not be placed on his lover to speculate on Meng Huaiming.

So what if Bai Yueguang is back?

He thought that time was the only thing that could defeat time.

This is the paradox of using the spear of the son to attack the shield of the son.

What's more, Bai Yueguang can't really fall in love with Meng Huaiming.

Su Yaowen approached Yan Hui two or three times, each time with cynicism, Yan Hui responded coldly on the face, but couldn't help laughing in his heart, jealousy and greed corrupted the star beyond recognition.

What's even more amusing is that jealousy actually took over. His attachment to Meng Huaiming's empathy is far more than using his hands to reach new heights. That's why he came to Lilac Street in person to make such time-wasting and life-wasting talk.

There must be no addiction between people, Yan Hui watched Su Yaowen slam the door away, turned the pen in his hand, humming a tune to water the lilacs in the courtyard.

When you are used to being loved, it is extremely painful to be separated. With Meng Huaiming's learned love, you may not know how to cherish it, but taking it back must be uncomfortable.

He knows how to play a lover of taste, five points of tenderness, two points of admiration, two points of intelligence, and one point of infatuation, enough to make anyone addicted to it.

Yanhui wants Meng Huaiming to get used to his existence. Even if one day all traces of him are erased and lilacs can no longer bloom, as long as the leaves are still there, there will always be the sound of pruning in the dream.

"And the result was not what I expected." Yan Hui smiled, "You did turn around."

Only then did Meng Huaiming realize what he really wanted to express.

That layer of spring water is just an illusion, Yan Hui just reversed the direction of ice and water.

"Do I really love you?"

Yan Hui sighed: "It's still like what Dr. Xu said, I'm just fascinated by such a role-playing game. I'm finally not satisfied with controlling the characters. I want to control living people. I don't really want to To get your love is what I want to get, just to see you being manipulated by me, inverting the position of teaching and being taught, I don't want to talk about reason, I want to let reason speak in reality."

Seeing that Meng Huaiming hadn't responded for a long time, Yan Hui asked with a smile, "Is it very sick?"

He completely let go of the responsibility and leaned back, "Okay, are you satisfied with the story this time?"

Meng Huaiming still held his hand, but forced him to open his palm, and wrote a word in his clearly lined palm.

"no."

Meng Huaiming organized his speech for a while, and said, "Sometimes I find it really difficult to deal with things like you."

Yan Hui gave him a puzzled look.

Meng Huaiming didn't give him a chance to ask questions, "I've never said before that when you're telling something, your expression is really attractive, so people who listen will always choose to believe you, and then fall into your logic, so Get the emotion you want, whether it's relief or anger."

Meng Huaiming met his unabashed eyes, "Then please tell me, Mr. Yan Hui, since you have decided to play such a game, but the rules of the game are that once you lose interest, you should give up decisively, so what are you obsessed with?" ?”

"Because of accidents." Yan Hui said, "I never thought that there would be so many accidents."

"No, it's not an accident."

He said: "You are... how to put it, you are actually a very clean freak, and the program of the game is to be done step by step, just like the script has his established lines. Your rule is that I recognize reality, become fascinated by you, and then You turned around and chased after your wife, staged a scene of chasing your wife at the crematorium, but since the process was interrupted by accident, what are you waiting for?"

"You clearly know that if I find out that the accident is your experience, and the game object doesn't care whether you suffer or not."

Yan Hui clenched his hands tightly, and Meng Huaiming pressed his hand, "Let go, the needle is still stuck."

"You know?" Yan Hui couldn't relax for a long time, "Then what else can we talk about?"

Meng Huaiming shook his head, "I found that once you have the ability to think, you will definitely make up a new routine, so you want to drive me away?"

"Have you discovered it yourself? When you are confused, you will want to rely on me, and when you are clear, you will want to push me away."

Meng Huaiming patted Yan Hui's head, Yan Hui seemed to recede from the fire, and even stopped breathing, Meng Huaiming didn't stop dismissing it.

"You always say, love or not, and tell me many times that you lied to me. This is just a joke that you have become obsessed with writing novels, but you never said why you are persistent."

"Even if I never save you, it doesn't fit any heroic deeds in the novel, even if I can't promise you anything other than giving you money and time."

"The ultimate goal of the game is to win and pass the level. You are waiting for me to turn back, and you have such a deep sense of condemnation of yourself. You are still afraid that you will go crazy. You know that few people can patiently treat a madman. You You are still back, you are still waiting for me, just like the original script, it continues with a seemingly doomed tragic ending."

"You're not Lin Jun's kind of emotionally deficient patient. You're more afraid of being hurt than anyone else. What are you doing now? It's so fun to fly moths into flames?"

Yan Hui looked at him with burning eyes.

"Superb lies are half-truths and half-false. I can probably hear how much you are adulterated and mixed with the truth."

Meng Huaiming said, "Actually, it's not that you don't love me, you just don't love yourself."

Yan Hui desperately wanted to speak, but a ball of wet cotton was choked in his throat, preventing him from uttering half a word.

"You describe yourself as a veteran of the game world, but which veteran would want to experience failure? You say so much, but you still want to use your way to interpret us as vulnerable. Without Zhao Hao, you just use Using other methods as an excuse, you still believe in the existence of love, but you never believe that one day it will be your turn."

"Do you think I'm going to be like those scumbags who hate you for your involuntary suffering, or do you think you'll be a burden to me? Promise me 60 years of mine when you're in a daze, then wake up Isn't it a little too hateful to just turn your face and deny anyone?"

Meng Huaiming pressed Yan Hui's shoulder, "I just want you to tell the truth."

"Are you willing to believe me that we won't be unable to make it to the end because of our backgrounds and those unclear right and wrong?"

"Where is the end?"

Yan Hui asked in a hoarse voice: "There is no end. You will feel tired. You will feel tired in this kind of meaningless guessing. Even if it can be buried in the depths, as long as there is a trigger point, it will explode. I can't stand it anymore. Even if I hope that's not true, what evidence is there?"

"Yan Hui." Meng Huaiming interrupted him, "What did Yan Ran say to you?"

Yan Hui was startled, almost jumping up from the body as if stressed.

He thought of that moonlit night, he couldn't move, he didn't even have the strength to crawl, Yan Ran broke through the door, there was such a big noise, but he walked up to him like a cat, bowed his head and couldn't even close his legs, looked up Brother lying on the ground.

Yan Hui locked Yan Ran in the bedroom. He thought those people were just asking for money, but he underestimated the obscurity of people's hearts.

"Sister." Yan Hui said, "Cover me a blanket."

Yan Ran looked at him with great interest.

"Pfft..." She narrowed her eyes, and under the bright moonlight, she smiled: "Hui, we are the same now."

Yan Hui stared at her blankly.

Yan Ran tilted her head, her long hair covered half of her face, "That's great, we are equally dirty."

Meng Huaiming was so shocked that he couldn't move.

"It's not because of her words." Yan Hui covered her eyes, "I just didn't expect that she hates me so much, she might as well just kill me, it would be better..."

Meng Huaiming pressed the hand that hit his head, "Yanhui, calm down, don't think about it, don't think about it!"

"It's better than letting me finally find out that everything in the past is fake..."

Meng Huaiming finally understood where Yan Hui's conflict came from.

Having experienced a complete betrayal, he has given up on putting his heart on what might happen to him.

He is afraid that everything is his imagination, and that what he cherishes will one day reveal the truth in the cruelest way.

At that time, he will suddenly realize that he has never owned anything.

The love he believes in does not belong to him.

Nor can it belong to anyone he loves and wants to protect.

- This is the sharpest knife.

The author has something to say: Lao Meng has come to this step and finally sees the situation clearly (the old mother is sad and tears)