critical

After standing still for a while, Yan Deng turned and walked back to the living room: "In the long river of time, nothing is long, so both pain and remembrance have an end."

Her voice is clear and ethereal, talking to herself is extraordinarily sensible, with a kind of inhuman cruelty.

Yan Ji followed her, thinking: What's the use of deceiving yourself, you are so in love.

Thinking of Yan Deng's long love, she couldn't help but feel a little bit amused, she had completely forgotten about Yan Deng, and Yan Deng was still thinking about herself, a KFC sundae would forgive her for being heartless.When Jing Xing arranged the house, he defaulted that he should be in Yan Deng's life.

Yan Ji was in a particularly good mood, and forced out her Kindle to carry out teaching work and taught Yan Deng. She smiled and went to pack the two bags of sundries she brought back: "Where do I hang my clothes?"

Yan Deng still remembered how she tricked herself into sleeping on the sofa yesterday, using the excuse of playing a game console for a while to sleep on the sofa: "If you want to sleep on the sofa, hang it on the balcony, if you want to sleep on the bed, take it on it."

Yan Ji blinked his eyes, he didn't have the nerve to say that he wanted to sleep with you.

Seeing her stuck in the porch, Yan Deng thought she wanted to go to the balcony. He put down the e-book and stood on his lap, holding the e-book in his palm like holding a sharp sword: "I'm blocking your way?"

Yan Ji picked up the clothes bag and stomped upstairs.

The disadvantages and advantages of lofts lie in the integrity of the home. To put it bluntly, there is no private space.The wardrobe in the upstairs bedroom reached to the railing, Yan Ji opened the wardrobe and looked down openly.

She glanced at Yan Deng, a little distracted, and when she looked up, the clothes had been put away, and her T-shirt was hanging next to Yan Deng's shirt. The ones are jeans, convenient.

Yan Ji closed the wardrobe and leaned on the railing: "Yan Deng."

Yan Deng was reading "Principles of Economics". Hearing her calling him, he put down the e-book and stood up: "Huh?"

Yan Ji leaned on the armrest and smiled: "I'm disturbing you from reading."

When she was a little more reckless, Yan Deng was very happy: "What do you want to drink?"

Yan Deng walked towards the kitchen, halfway he saw the bag leaning against the corner, stuffed with something bulging, as if he was about to leave home at any time, very annoying.

She pointed to the floor of the porch, looked up at Yan Ji and said, "You don't want me to throw this out for you."

"It's too fierce, you." Yan Ji stepped down the stairs with his slippers on, "It was given to me by Chairman Ji, the teacher's stuff. I haven't read it yet."

Yan Ji opened the bag, and inside was a large file folder, made of withered yellow kraft paper, at least in the style of more than ten years ago.The folder is well preserved with no fraying on the edges or corners.

Yan Ji hesitated for a while, and pulled out the folder with one hand.

The file folder was unexpectedly heavy, slipped from Yan Ji's hand, and fell to the ground with a "click", scattered letters all over the place.

Yan Deng followed the sound and saw Yan Ji squatting down nervously. There were envelopes of different shapes and colors on the ground. There were standard No. 7 envelopes with kraft paper red frames, envelopes with cartoon prints, and white envelopes with hand-painted patterns...

Yan Ji was both surprised and delighted: "It's a letter I sent to the teacher. It's been many years. I didn't expect her to receive it well."

Yan Ji sat cross-legged on the floor, gathering the letter in his hands.These letters are neatly arranged in chronological order. The changes in the envelope and the maturity of the handwriting are the trajectory of a child's growth.Clearly, at a glance.

"It's been so many years." Yan Ji flipped through the letters one by one, feeling a lot of emotion in his heart.

Yan Deng stood by and watched quietly, those were the times she had missed and never been able to participate in.Saying regret will appear heavy, but the sadness in my heart can't lie to myself.

Yan Ji tidied up the letters, opened the file folder and wanted to put it in, but was caught off guard when he saw a few sketches in the back of the file folder.

She hurriedly covered it, fearing that Yan Deng would see her "immature works", and thoughts would wander in her head, and she felt that what she painted was not so shameful, so she opened the file folder again by accident.

"Hey, my teacher still keeps the pictures I drew when I was a child."

I don't know if it's telepathy, or it's rare to be considerate, President Yan approached, bent down and sat down on the floor beside her.

Yan Ji emphasized: "I drew them blindly when I was a child."

"Oh." Yan Deng drew a long tail.

Yan Ji pursed his mouth, closed the file folder, and held it down with his palm, as if he had a childish appearance of forgetting to read it.Yan Deng looked at her, then looked at the folder, covered his lips with the back of his hand and yawned, resting his head on Yan Ji's shoulder, and asked lazily, "What is the painting? Let me see."

Yan Ji stiffened half of his body, opened the file folder, and carefully took out the few paintings that were pressed at the bottom of the file folder.

Zhang Gongyu is the custodian of the Collection Department of the National Museum. He is proficient in literature and history, and is good at restoration.In comparison, these paintings are a bit crude.

"The teacher really bothered."

Yan Ji held a corner of the drawing paper and introduced to Yan Deng: "This is the gate of my university. When I went to report, I was very excited. I stood in front of the gate and looked at it for a long time. The seniors who picked up the freshmen thought I was stupid and kept asking me Do you want to go to the infirmary?"

"What is this one? Oh, that dam. I went there for an outing and finally came out to play. The teacher also asked me to write an essay praising the party leading the people to rebuild their homes after the flood. I may be too angry. The painting looks like a universe explosion. of."

Yan Ji quickly changed to the next one, but he collapsed in an instant, not knowing what the hell he was painting: "Eh, I have always kept a respectful distance from abstraction, um, it's quite charming when you look closely."

Even though she said so, she turned over the painting immediately, but Yan Deng intercepted her halfway and picked it up.

Yan Ji shaved his face, "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Feel the charm."

Yan Deng looked at the drawing paper, and the crooked lines on the drawing were like scattered wool, with no head or tail, scattered and scattered.Looking at the lines alone, you can't see anything at all, but staring at the blank space, you can see the fallen villain, the distorted mask, reappearing, and constantly deforming.

Yan Deng guessed that this was drawn unconsciously by Yan Ji when he lost his memory. The disordered lines represent the confusion of memory, and the picture composed of blanks alludes to the deepest memory in the subconscious.

Yan Deng handed the drawing paper to Yan Ji: "Put it away, it will be auctioned after 100 years."

Yan Ji thanked you, and quickly turned the drawing paper over and put it aside: "This one is not bad, look at this amusement park, how detailed the carousel is drawn."

Yan Deng raised his brows slightly, gave Yan Ji a sideways look, and even had the face to talk about the merry-go-round, if she hadn't spent all the money on shooting guns, the two of them wouldn't have been in a mess and could only stand by and watch others ride on the merry-go-round , play bumper cars, go to Monkey Mountain to feed monkeys... the snacks of the small squad leader who still have lunch.

Yan Ji didn't realize the danger at all, and Yue Yandeng was enthusiastic: "I don't know if the playground in the Old People's Park has been demolished, let's take a look someday?"

Yan Deng meant something: "Remember to bring money."

Yan Ji didn't realize it: "Of course, you can't really just go and see."

As she spoke, she opened the last painting.

"This is……"

This is a pencil drawing, the technique is immature and there is no technique at all, but the lines are smooth and drawn with both form and spirit.

The pencil drawing shows Yan Ji, who is eleven or twelve years old, his facial features have hardly changed, except that he has short messy hair like a tomboy, a gauze on his forehead, and a nonchalant smile.She rolled up her sleeves, holding half a piece of crushed ice in her hand. She was wearing a loose school uniform, and the place where her name was written on her chest was scratched out.

Yan Ji stared at himself in the painting, unable to control his tongue: "This is, is it...me?"

Yan Deng's long curled eyelashes trembled slightly, and slowly lowered. When he raised his eyes again, his eyes were dark and dark, and there was nothing unusual: "I drew it."

Yan Ji was stunned, holding the drawing paper and facing the sun, the person who applied the name badge seemed to be afraid of hurting the paper, he did it very gently, and the word "Yanji" could still be vaguely seen through the scorching sun of midsummer.

The muscles of Yan Ji's cheeks tensed and loosened, and he repeated several times before uttering a sentence: "...Did you paint this?"

Yan Deng replied, "It's not you, it's Zhang Gongyu."

Yan Ji seemed to have regained the ability to speak, and firmly denied: "It can't be me, I don't have the slightest impression, how could I erase the name on the badge, I... I had my head smashed at that time? Are you still here?" ? Did I lose my memory at that time?"

Yan Deng took the portrait from her hand, turned it over and put it back in the folder: "Don't think about it."

Yan Ji touched the scar on her forehead. It had been too long, the hideous wound had faded like a trace of water, and even she herself had blurred the memory of that period.

She murmured: "You knew it a long time ago, right? You know that I forgot you because of a head injury? This injury is not that serious. I can't remember it at all. You don't blame me. You are afraid that I will remember it... Teacher also Afraid... what are you afraid of?"

Yan Deng embraced Yan Ji's shoulders, and the two of them leaned their foreheads against each other, the skin conveyed warmth, and a similar helplessness extended.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, I wasn't there at the time. I'm sorry, I don't want you to think about those things. The past... just let it go."

Yan Ji bit his lower lip, forcing back the soreness in his nose: "Yan Deng."

Yan Deng answered her: "En."

"you……"

"Ok?"

Yan Ji reached out hesitantly, and touched Yan Deng's hair: "You never talk about the past, or the suffering you suffered in Cornwall. What are you? An escaped prisoner? The dead doctor's test product? I wanted to ask you yesterday, how many days have you not slept?"

Yan Deng clenched the corners of his lips: "Yan Ji."

Yan Ji interrupted her: "Feisi told me that if you don't sleep all the time, you will only feel sleepy at first, and your limbs will be sore. You will be woken up because you fall into a coma at any time, and you will gradually have hallucinations. In the end, you will self-mutilate. Rotten every skin on your body...you're better than them, aren't you?"

Yan Deng held Yan Ji's hand.

Yan Ji twitched the corners of his mouth and tried to force a smile: "Have you not slept since you received the call from Deaver? I can feel it. When Zhao Das invited me to eat mutton skewers, I knew you would By the side, protecting me, those words are for you... Let the past pass, you are the most qualified person to say these words."

At this point, Yan Deng can only bluntly express his worries: "When I was a child, my grandfather told me that a person's name cannot be forgotten because of its origin and inheritance, and it is a feather and ambition that must be cherished. The name is not only a person, but the words are the love and hope of parents and elders. "

Yan Ji closed his eyes: "Yes, the teacher won't change my name and surname for any reason. Yan Ji, the anger dissipated. I really don't know why I am so angry that I lost my memory."

She laughed at herself and shook her head: "Forget it, I don't want to. I'm really... too lucky."

Yan Deng heaved a sigh of relief when he heard the words, and urged Yan Ji calmly: "Okay, you cook in the kitchen. Make it richer, and clean up the dust for yourself."

"Okay." Yan Ji collected his mood, put a few paintings back into the bottom of the file folder, and picked up the letter on the side and put it back.

Seeing her walking back to the bookshelf with the folder in her hand, Yan Deng walked to the island in the kitchen with ease, and poured the green plum sparkling fruit drink just taken out of the refrigerator into a glass.

The faint plum blue liquid has a sweet and sour smell, the fine and dense bubbles rise and burst, and the diamond-shaped ice cubes float and collide, interweaving the most pleasant cool symphony in summer.

Yan Deng turned around with two glasses of drinks in hand, and saw Yan Ji leaning against the bookcase, holding a piece of open letter paper in his hand.

Yan Ji didn't want to lie to Yan Deng, but after putting the folder on the bookshelf, he accidentally opened a crack with his fingers, and pulled out the letter that was photographed at the front.

After scanning the letter at a glance, Yan Ji read it again from the beginning in disbelief, then pulled out the second letter, and after reading it, he simply took out the entire folder from the bookshelf.

"Yan Deng." Yan Ji ran to Yan Deng with a file folder in his hand, holding the letter paper he had just read, and said incoherently, "I, I haven't forgotten you... It turns out that I met Ying Zhao when I was young... ...That sentence was actually said by me!"