ideal entertainment circle

Before dawn, the sea breeze was blowing on the lonely town surrounded by mountains and sea.

The tide caresses the beach gently, and the sound of the waves is clean and soothing.

A young man came from a distance on the beach, with a dull expression, slightly pursed lips, carrying an easel and painting utensils, and a flashlight hanging around his neck, walking along with him in the darkest hour before dawn, feeling the darkness The light of the dangling flashlight came to the crude wooden pier.

He sat on the edge, put the small plastic bucket aside, listened to the sound of the ocean, and squeezed the paint onto the palette.

He was wearing clothes with several patches, his hands were red from the cold, but his movements of squeezing paint and toning were steady and precise.

The colorful and bright colors appeared little by little in his hands. The young man lowered his head slightly, and continued to correct the colors that should be there without saying a word.

Suddenly, his lowered eyes, which were covered by thick eyelashes, lifted up, his calm eyes stared calmly at the sea level that finally revealed a ray of light, and the next moment he raised his hand, and took a ray of deep Purple smeared on the drawing paper.

Chaoyang was born, the young man completed a beautiful and bright painting, then stood up, took the tools and the completed painting, turned to face a few townspeople who came to the pier, got up early and prepared to go out to sea with the ebb tide, hesitant and dull nodded.

Most of the people who went out to sea were middle-aged men, with smiles on their faces, and they greeted the young man with a cheerful and generous grin, revealing the gully on their faces that had been blown by the sea wind.

The boy stayed on the spot awkwardly and awkwardly for two seconds, then turned and left the pier.

The opening of the film is peaceful and warm.

With the back of the boy slowly leaving, the screen cuts into the bright and warm psychological counseling room.

Beside the boy was a mother with a warm smile, and opposite was a kind and gentle psychiatrist, while the boy was sitting on a soft sofa, holding warm water in his hand, exerting so much force that his knuckles turned white.His lowered eyes trembled uneasily, and occasionally he raised his eyes to look at the doctor in a calm and warm casual attire. The care and obsession in his eyes hardly required any guesswork from others.

The boy fell in love with this man.

His mother and the doctor he likes hope that he can successfully integrate into the crowd.

After many times of guidance, the young man finally nodded and said yes, the corner of his mouth had a very slight arc, which disappeared in an instant.

The town is very good, the school is very good, and the neighbors are very warm and honest. When they have extra seafood, they will send some to their mother and son.

Everything is fine except for the occasional leather kid who calls him a nerd.

So good that the teenager felt that he seemed to be able to get rid of the fear in his heart-although he still needed to take some antidepressants and antipsychotic drugs to maintain the state.

But it is undeniable that his fear and rejection of others has gradually decreased a lot.

Also aware of his feelings, he stopped going to the psychiatrist who was a full four hours away from home.

A year passed, and the teenager was sorting out his paintings in his small attic.

He turned out the ferocious turbulent waves and dark clouds that had been smeared in the past, secretly put them into the stove at home, and burned them all.

He should make up his mind to say goodbye to the past.

The boy thought so.

But the turn of events came too fast and caught off guard.

Because he was not in the classroom temporarily, the classmate who collected the homework opened his schoolbag and prepared to take out the homework by himself, but he couldn't find the homework, but saw the medicine inside.

And the only few photos of the doctor carefully collected by the teenager.

It was as if the dream was shattered, and the sweet dreamland finally woke up.

The small town can accept an introverted and dull young man, but it cannot accept a mental patient, let alone a homosexual.

The weather suddenly changed.

The wind and rain beat down, and the sky was torn apart by thunder and lightning.

The warm and calm tone sinks with the setting sun, and the icy rain and the strong wind that almost blows the entire town away occupy the entire screen.

The drenched and muddy boy returned home tremblingly, and closed the door without waking up his mother who was resting in the house.

He took a shower in silence, washed his clothes in silence, rubbed alcohol on the scrapes and scratches on his body in silence, and then went back to his small attic in silence.

The boy's back looked a little ugly.

He huddled on the mattress in the narrow and dark attic, turned off the lights, listened to the sound of rainwater hitting the roof, and buried himself in the quilt.

The boy had a dream.

Dreaming that nothing has changed.

When you go out, you can see the smiling faces of your neighbor’s uncle. When you go to the pier, you can be stuffed with a small bag of seafood by Uncle who has returned from the sea. When you go to school, you can see your classmates laughing and making noises, and occasionally you will take him with you.

But the thunder of reality woke him up, and several wounds on his body were still aching from the friction of the bedding.

The cold eyes of neighbors, the disgust and isolation of classmates, and even individual bullying, the attitude of people in the small town as if they were avoiding bedbugs made the young man feel dazed.

What am I doing wrong?

Where am I wrong?

The teenager locked himself in the small attic and never went out or went to school.

He just kept asking himself, asking his mother, if he did something wrong.

Mother hugged him and sobbed softly, saying that he was not wrong.

No, I must be wrong.

The boy thought so.

It's his fault for being hated by people, it's his fault for being accused and heckled, it's his fault for making mom worry and cry all the time.

Otherwise, why wouldn't other people be treated like this, wouldn't make mother cry, but he would be the only one?

The boy was taken to a psychiatrist again by his mother.

He described him as thin, exhausted and haggard, with thick black eyes.

He looked at the doctor with a calm expression, neither happy nor sad.

It is also wrong to like the doctor.

The young man remained silent, once again wrapping his world in a thick cocoon, lowering his eyes, staring at his fingertips, no matter how the doctor and mother guided and persuaded him, there was no movement at all.

The doctor was silent for a moment, then called the teenager's mother out of the office.

The young man raised his eyes at this moment, and stared blankly at the corner of the lavender knitted coat that the doctor always likes to wear. After only about a second, he looked away and listened to the soft closing of the office door. sound.

They can't travel to and from the town within a day, and they usually stay in the cheapest guest house nearby for one night.

50 yuan a night, a single bed, sleeping mother and child.

Because the guest house is cheap and does not require an ID card, anyone can live in it.

In the afternoon, the boy was lying on the bed, staring at the billboard that could be seen outside the window with his eyes open. His mother was still at the doctor's side.

He heard a loud knock on the door, but he just lay quietly on the bed, as if the knock didn't exist.

It wasn't until the knocking on the door finally stopped that he sat up slowly and slowly, and walked to the door.

Open the door, there is a person lying in the door.

To be precise, it was a corpse.

The cause of death was a drug overdose.

I just knocked on the door, probably asking for help.

The young man quietly looked at the grim and painful corpse for a while, as if he was thinking about something, but he didn't seem to think about anything.

Then he squatted down, carefully rummaged through the clothes on this person, and calmly put away a few syringes and a few poorly packaged liquids. Afterwards, as if nothing had happened, he quietly closed the door and lay down again. on the bed.

When everyone didn't realize it, and it was completely unexpected, the boy hid in his small attic and injected himself with the first thing that should not be touched.

He felt his mood and body improved a lot in an instant.

With his mind in a state of extreme excitement, the boy went to school again with his schoolbag on his back.

Then, when surrounded by several tall and strong students, he picked up a sharp stone and opened a hole in each of their heads.

The residents of the town are boiling!

It was astonishingly scalding like a frying pan that had been rolled into hot water.

They blocked the door of the boy's house, angrily asking them to get out, asking them to leave here.

And the boy's mother was in the small attic, looking in disbelief at the discarded syringes and the expressionless son who had finished injecting the last liquid. Amidst the shouts of the people downstairs, she broke down and wailed, Turned around and left the cramped attic.

The boy didn't seem to hear anything.

He calmly sat cross-legged in front of the short table in the small attic, tidying up his own small world, and then when the sky was getting dark and the sounds from outside gradually disappeared, he left behind his own packaged paintings, and put those discarded syringes in the On the top, just like before, carrying an easel and painting utensils, and hanging this flashlight around his neck, he left home.

The boy sat by the sea all night.

The sea breeze was cold at night, and he didn't seem to notice it.

When the sun rose in the morning, he seemed to have been inspired, and walked towards the sea.

The sun gradually rose, and a seagull landed on the easel that the boy had left untouched.

The painting tools and easel were quietly placed beside the half-built sandcastle by the boy. On the drawing paper pasted on the drawing board, a magnificent and bright painting was half completed.

The still very wet palette was carefully and securely placed on the small cloth stool, and in the small plastic bucket filled with clear water, a touch of warm orange slowly spread out, as if the owner of the painting had just put down the brush in his hand and got up Leave in general.

The sound of the waves is refreshing and pleasant, and the soft and warm radiance of the morning sun sprinkles on the water. With the chirping of seabirds, another new day begins.

Chu Qiu stared at the announcement in a daze, and was awakened by the bright lights after a while.

Sure enough, it is the standard Guo Kuang-style blank space.

Chu Qiu rubbed his face fiercely. No matter how many times he watched it, he still felt that this kind of ending setting made people feel an irresistible warmth spontaneously.

Especially after the suicide episode, the remaining hope is particularly bright.

Chu Qiu stood up, looked down at his watch, and glanced at the movie that was about to be shown next, and decided to take it easy today.

Chu Qiu walked to the door, but was stopped by a person.

The man had a beard, curly hair, a fat figure, and a friendly smile on his face.

Chu Qiu glanced at the card on his chest. It was different from the purple guest pass that Chu Qiu was carrying, but the green invitee pass that that person was wearing.

That is, film critics, or invited industry insiders.

"You are..." The man looked at Chu Qiu carefully, a little uncertain.

Most Europeans and Americans who don't have much contact with Asians are a bit blind to Asians, which is why Chu Qiu doesn't bother to cover up.

Of course, a large part of it was because basically no one knew him here, and it was inside the film exhibition venue, so naturally there was no need to hide anything.

But to his surprise, he was recognized.

The man slapped his forehead and called out his name accurately: "Chu Qiu!"

The Chinese pronunciation used is a bit crappy, but it is very friendly.

As soon as he shouted, several people not far away turned around and looked over, staring at the star of the movie who had suddenly appeared in surprise.

Chu Qiu felt as if he was a sheep strayed into a pack of wolves, and this group of enthusiastic and generous M people overwhelmed him in an instant.

The author has something to say: Chu Qiu:? ? ? ?

Qi Tianrui: @张大大@张大大@张大大, what do you think of the child?

Zhang Dali: ...Get lost!