Guan Qi is silent

Tan Tai Jian

Guan Qi's personal belongings are very few, a bunch of keys, a wallet that was emptied, and a mobile phone that was discarded by the fugitive.

I stared at the wallet in silence for a long time, and Fang reached out to open the wallet in front of me.

Empty, the identity card was taken away, and the prisoner carefully concealed his identity.The photo folder is empty, probably after Ah Mo came back, he removed it to prevent misunderstanding.There was nothing left in the wallet, except for a square-folded piece of paper stuck in the corner.

"12.2601.0809.04".

The birthday of sister Wen and I, and the anniversary of the death of his deceased grandmother.

Now it is his death day.

Really...

I put down my empty wallet and slowly ran my hands through my hair.

What a gentle and silly person.

Guan Qi's life circle is very small, and he only knows the staff of the editorial agency and some authors.

Sister Wen, who concealed her pregnancy, finally came to say goodbye, only three or five people.

"Master is really good. I used to hope that I could find a husband who spoils me like this in the future."

"Ah, before the Great God and Jianda got together, I really wanted to pursue the Great God. Being a warm boy is simply the direction of my life."

The words behind them gradually faded, and the few people fell into the silence of memories.

I am no exception.

In order to get a set of daily clothes for Guan Qi to pack, I took the bunch of keys and went back to the apartment.

The familiar silver four-edged key, the dust visible after opening the door floats and sinks in the twilight of the setting sun.

The balcony, the kitchen, the entrance and other places, no matter where they are, still retain the traces of the life of the two of them. Guan Qi didn't even put away the second cup on the washstand.

Sometimes I also think about Guan Qi's way of thinking.

Guan Qi hopes to be loved, but he doesn't want to know more people.Guan Qi is very afraid of being praised as a good person by others, because it means that the other party has demands, but he blindly gives earnestly and tenderly, and contradictoryly expects to be loved but does not want to be paid attention to or praised.

When gentleness has become a habit, how difficult will it be to correct it?

When I walked into the bedroom, the tragic scene made me dumbfounded.

The window was wide open, the manuscript paper was scattered on the ground, Guan Qi’s daily writing pen fell to the ground, and the glass pen filled with ink was very fragile, and the ink slowly overflowed from the cracks, leaving puddles that were difficult to clean up blue ink traces.

Guan Qi has a strange habit of not closing the windows, and he can't remember the lesson no matter how many troubles he has caused himself.

I bent down and picked up a piece of manuscript paper.Juicy and square, with very few strokes that are very characteristic of Qi.Handwriting written by a soft person.

The footers are all about Qi’s well-written fat figures, and occasionally there are a few pages with graffiti on the margins—presumably because they have reached a bottleneck in writing, and what’s more, there are various sketches on the back, sometimes homemade milk tea, small print Write down the recipe, sometimes the chicks resting outside the window, write the time, and sketches of acquaintances or strangers such as myself, me, sister Wen, etc., next to the time and event...

I sorted the manuscript papers with some amusement, only to see a white corner exposed under the bookcase—it was the missing first page.

I gently took out the paper, and the first thing that caught my eye was a row of two simple words "Silence".

It's probably a new book. He always likes to write in this way, saying that the style of writing written with office software is too impetuous and too much nonsense.

Then I froze.

Because I saw all the titles.

"Guan Qi said nothing."

It's not "there are few Sanskrit sounds", it's not "care about wine", but the word "Guan Qi" couldn't be more concise.

I immediately flipped through it.

What Guan Qi wrote this time is too difficult to sum up, it seems to be indifferent self-analysis, and it is like a trapped animal whispering for help.

His past, his longing, his begging, his loss, every word, every word is like weeping, every word vomits blood.

The full text is not long, and Guan Qi has not finished writing it. I straightened my head and stared at his Chapter 3 conclusion in a daze.

"This book is my call for help, but I dare not try to call for help, because I deeply understand how many 'Guan Qi' can there be in the world? When people around you who are gentle and talkative make a request, first think about whether the other party is 'Guan Qi'?"

I took out a cigarette and was stunned for a long time, feeling that there was a depression in my chest that was about to burst out, for some reason.

Indeed, even I could not understand Guan Qi.

Who can understand it.

The sky was completely dark, a pure black night with no stars or moon.The dim street lamps on the path outside the window suddenly turned on, waking me up from my daze.

I laughed at myself: "What I didn't understand when I was alive, can I understand it overnight after I die?"

Thinking about it, I put Guan Qi's distress and cries in the folder of the bookcase, closed the window, and said goodbye to this room that would no longer be lit.

Life is not an idol drama, and Guan Qi's ashes are not in any open-air cemetery, enjoying the beautiful fragrant flowers and receiving the dripping tears.

Guan Qi was placed in the public tomb, a building full of dead souls.Finally, when I looked back, I couldn’t find Guan Qi anymore. He was as ordinary as thousands of other drawers, silently fused together, building up the terrifying and obscure silence, together with those hard-to-let go secrets and Scars, dusty in one narrow space after another.

There was a period of time when I was still thinking about everything related to Qi, the reasons why he blocked himself one after another, whether the source of all this was the environment or himself.

But many years have passed, and I am no longer young. Sometimes I remember the young man who is aging in my memory, but I always want to know——

How many Guan Qi are there in this world.

Guan Qi said nothing.

No tenderness.

The full text of "Guan Qi Bu Yu"