[L Yue] Give me a forever lie

When I was 17 years old, I also wanted to open the door of the classroom and leave.At that time, in order to be admitted to a certain university, I stayed in the cram school every day, wasting time sitting in class.All the students carefully read the secretary's notes, but I only wrote a few sentences in the notebook I opened.The classmates sitting next to me often come to ask me questions, and the compliments are always endless.I answered them patiently, occasionally remembering to wear a cooperative smile on my face.I don't want them to feel stupid, and I don't want the teacher to feel useless.

The cram school is open throughout the summer.Whenever I lose my mind in class, what I see is not the shade of the campus, but the busy streets.Compared with the place where I am, the world with some distance is more immersive.In order to let more people see our place, we have posted advertisements in the downtown area, and many people on the street will pass by the billboard that reads "Famous teacher guidance, xx years of experience".In the midday sun, there are still so many people crossing the road in suits, I don't know how they have such patience.

I stared at that road, thinking about what I read in books a long time ago: how cities divide people’s relationships and spaces, how the division of labor in society objectifies human beings, modernity and postmodernity.When these unfamiliar words hover in the mind, they become a kind of wonderful mind game, which can not only pass the time but also bring comfort.That is why I am still sitting in this class.

The rules themselves are a kind of lie woven by people.Human beings stay in this prosperous lie, but cannot touch the core of steel and iron bones behind it.This is what I advocated for life when I was 17 years old.There is no youth or summer cicadas in it, not at all.

When I met Ryugasaki, I just started to practice my ideal.Every day I searched around the street with rental advertisements, and finally found the house by accident.The house is an old apartment, the advantage is that it is relatively close to the school.It's not big, it's a bit old, the corridor is painted in simple white, without decoration, it's almost the same as the underground garage of a high-rise shopping mall, pale and plain.But the elevator and the doors are still doing a good job.

The apartment is a two-person suite. I knocked on the door and quickly saw my roommate.

He looked about as rough as that corridor, with messy hair as if he hadn't slept well.There are two dark circles under the eyes, I don't know if it is natural.He stared at me with out-of-focus eyes.

"You are……"

He broke off after two syllables, as if he didn't want to speak at all.We just looked at each other like this for a while, and he raised his hand to run through his messy hair.

I said, "My name is Ye Shenyue, and the landlord told me that I can just come here to look at the house."

"Ah, yes, I promised him." The pale young man said. "I'm sorry, but he didn't inform me when someone was coming. Anyway, just take a look."

There was no tea or hospitality, he put his hands in his jeans pockets, turned around and walked slowly back to the room, leaving only my back view.I just stared at him for a while, and finally gave up my plan to communicate with him, and looked at the room carefully: I brought a table and bed with me, as well as common furniture such as a refrigerator.There is no air conditioner, which means I have to endure the hot summer alone.

Having said that, I didn't have much choice at the time: I had no money and no social experience, and I rented a house by myself. I could figure out a way about money, but it was difficult to deal with my identity.My father has declined to assist in this, so it is up to me.

As a result, I did not find any other reliable place to live except this house.Therefore, I can only temporarily think that patience with Ryuzaki should be regarded as one of the difficulties I have to face, which is relatively easy to solve.

Later, the landlord gave me the assigned key, besides the outside door, and the key of my own room.I held the small piece of iron, and my heart was very happy. For the first time in many years, I had such a space.Although this space is not like home, no one is in charge of cleaning, no visitors, no laughter, not even windows.But this place is safe.No one can step in.

I didn't bring any non-school related books.The bed was so narrow that I could only lie on it alone, and it was difficult to turn over.The computer in the room was the only item I brought.In addition, Ryuzaki and I shared the Internet bandwidth of the whole house, and a telephone line became the initial intersection between us.

I barely saw him the first few days: all I knew was that the man was in the room, seemingly sitting in front of a computer, but I had no idea what he was doing.He doesn't come out of the living room, and he doesn't talk to me. I tried to knock on the door and asked if he wanted takeaway, but I didn't get a response.

Just when I was on the verge of forgetting or ignoring my roommate, he knocked on my door one night.

"Do you still have to use the computer tonight?"

I opened the door to meet him, and he said something straight.

I asked him what happened.

Ryuzaki said that sometimes I use up too much of the network, making his emails very slow.He is due to hand in his manuscript tonight, and I hope I can give him the Internet for a while.That's when I realized he was a novelist.

I was very curious, so I asked, "Then what are you writing about?"

"Detective novels, murder cases." What he answered me was not the usual term in the literary world. Most people would call it "mystery novel".But I didn't care about this small inconsistency at the time, I just nodded in agreement.

"By the way, you should be doing some computer-related work."

I answered him, mainly to write things like websites, and occasionally to maintain servers for some people.So he bit his finger and looked at me, and asked me if I would be a hacker.It might be a bit stupid to put this question on others. Not everyone who touches computers can be a hacker, but it is appropriate for him to ask me, because I do know a little bit.However, this does not mean that I want to expose this relatively fringe hobby of myself.I shook my head, waiting for his answer.He just gave me a look and retreated to his room without saying anything else.

Later that day, Ryuzaki handed in the manuscript, seemed very relaxed, and finally came out of the room.He took out a piece of cold cake from the refrigerator and put it in his mouth with a fork.I just sat there watching his weird posture and movements. He was only willing to touch the fork with two fingers, as if he had some kind of cleanliness.I have finished my homework.There is a TV in the living room, and neither of us intends to turn it on.

Maybe it was me looking at him that made him uncomfortable, Ryuzaki said, "Yakami-kun."

Then he handed me the rest of the strawberries.I was a little stunned, and what came into my sight again was a certain look in the pure black vision.He seems to mean it.

"What's wrong?" I tried to break free from this confusion.

Then Ryuzaki asked me: "Then why are you looking at me?"

I explained it was because I hadn't seen behavior like his.Hearing this sentence, he shrank himself back on the sofa like a cat, and answered listlessly that everyone said so.This move carried a kind of youthful innocence, making it even harder to see his age.I used to learn how to be a policeman with my father, he said to learn to read people.Appearance, clothing, movements, eyes.And Ryuzaki was a wonderful object of observation.The more he was a puzzle, the more interested I became in him.

However, what topic can be connected with him?I feel that Ryuzaki is not the kind of person who is very enthusiastic, and he rejected me thousands of miles away from the beginning.It's even possible that he doesn't like me, which is why he is so cold.

"By the way, what are you writing in your novel?"

"I'm writing a new work recently, and I'm taking it to a magazine for publication." He sat up a little bit, which I interpreted as a sign that he was willing to answer. "Ye Shenjun... want to see?"

"Ah, please let me see it if you can. I haven't read any writer's first draft yet, so I'm just curious."

"Then wait for me." Ryuzaki stood up, took out the written manuscript from the room, and handed it to me.