After I dressed as a fake young master from a wealthy family, I became popular [entertainment circle

Hang Yang is a good person in the conventional sense.

"A loss is a blessing." This is what Hang Yang's mother often said in the meager memory of his childhood.

The face of the deceased has been blurred and beautified a little bit by the washing of the years. Now whenever Hang Yang thinks of his mother, for some reason, he can’t see her face clearly, but he always feels that the face should be extremely beautiful, always with With a gentle smile, she is kind to others and often helps others without thinking.

He lived in a small town when he was a child, and the filming location of "Montefontaine" is different, but the level of wealth is similar, so there are always some subtle commonalities - such as the pirated copies everywhere in the supermarket Snacks, those cheap, ugly, but quite sturdy household items, or the layout of the street, the atmosphere of the neighborhood... His family is living on the street in the town, his mother runs a small shop, and his father goes out to work. After the year, I can't see him a few times, and Hang Yang's memory of him is of course even weaker.

He only remembered that his mother was smart, beautiful, and always smiling, so the business at home was doing pretty well, and his mother was always busy.

Therefore, when shooting "Monte Fontaine", Hang Yang often looked at the past that was dusty at the bottom of his memory through those scenes that seemed to be the same and seemingly unrelated, and often waited until Hang Xiutu came to pat himself, or call himself With a sound, Hang Yang realized that he was in a daze.

He is far away from those days, separated by a change of residence, a sudden change in circumstances, and even a death.

Hang Yang thought he had forgotten it, but he didn't expect to brush off the dust on his memory and open the box made of time—only to find that he seemed to remember it.

This has happened many years ago. Hang Yang's peaceful and stable life ended in the fifth grade of primary school.

It was an ordinary day. Hang Yang’s mother bid farewell to him and went to visit her husband who was working thousands of miles away along the eastern city. Before leaving, she knelt down and told herself as usual: “Before going out, remember to tidy up your clothes. Dress neatly, do your homework well, don’t slack off in your studies, drink plenty of hot water, and remember to find Aunt Liu next door if you need anything, the phone numbers of your parents are posted next to our landline, do you remember them all?”

When Hang Yang nodded and agreed, his mother took him to look up and down twice, smiled, turned and left.

But no one thought that this side was farewell.

Hang Yang only felt that his mother's long trip away from home was longer than usual. After a few days, he moved a small mat after finishing his homework every day, and sat quietly at the door of his second-floor bungalow and waited.

——But he didn't see the figure who came back. All he waited for was the news that his parents were killed in a car accident in a foreign land.

That year, Hang Yang had just turned 10 years old. Overnight, he became an orphan in a daze, and was taken to live with his mother's only relative, his aunt in the city.

There is also a child in my aunt's family, who is one year younger than myself and has a bit of a bad temper. My aunt and uncle are not very polite to Hang Yang, but they still have food and drink to support him when he grows up.

Hang Yang seems to remember everything, but he seldom thinks about it deliberately, but now that he recalls it, he feels that the past is like a hazy fog, and he can't see it clearly.

Strange, really strange.

Is this also the fault of rebirth?

"Mr. Xiaohang? Teacher Xiaohang?" With the sound of wood piling smoke sounding again, Hang Yang's thoughts were pulled from the distant past to the present small consulting room.

Mudui smoked his hand lightly on the armrest of the sofa beside him, and said with a smile: "There are very few people who are in a daze when chatting with me. It seems that my professionalism still needs to be honed! Moreover, I think you seem to be interested in Not interested in the story?"

"No." Hang Yang vetoed it on the spot, his long eyelashes drooping down, like a slightly curled small brush, casting a fine curved silhouette in front of his eyes, looking quiet and beautiful, like a sea of ​​wind when there is no wind Qingtan.

"It's Mr. Mu's narration that is fascinating. Coincidentally, the name is the same. I was a little stunned when I entered it." Hang Yang raised his head slightly, showing an impeccable smile.

"Then I will continue." Muduiyan looked at Hang Yang.

"Of course, please." Hang Yang nodded gracefully.

The gentle voice like running water sounded again: "I noticed him later because I saw the scar on his arm."

With the rhythm of Wood Pile Smoke speaking, the whole room fell into a moment of silence.

Hang Yang seemed to tremble slightly, but the amplitude was so small that Muduiyan thought it was just an illusion when he was holding up his glasses. Hang Yang's slender eyelashes blocked his lowered eyes, and he sat down with his head down. On the sofa, it seems to be listening quietly and contemplating.

Mu Duiyan couldn't see his expression, so he continued to speak slowly: "There are many reasons for campus bullying. Many people who come to me for consultation have encountered such a situation. Many reasons are very ridiculous: for example, 'He (She) likes to flatter the teacher', 'He (she) is hard-working and out of tune with the whole class', and even more outrageous 'He (she) always likes to speak Mandarin without speaking a dialect, which looks very pretentious'... However For my childhood classmate, the reason why he was bullied on campus is even more bizarre, because he is a very pure and good person."

"There are also many forms of campus bullying, some are beaten and scolded by small groups, and targeted by a specific person... But the resulting environment is very consistent," Mu Duiyan took a sip of the coffee in front of him, he Staring at his handsome face projected on the brown liquid in the cup, he said lightly, "We need collective indifference."

"At that time, the form of campus bullying experienced by 'Hang Yang' was very simple. To put it bluntly, it was isolation in attitude and banter in words."

"But as far as I know, the bullying by his classmates did not reach the point of violent beating. Then he," Mu Duiyan said in a softer voice, "why does he still wear long sleeves in summer? Why does he refuse to be with others? Change clothes? Occasionally, I saw the bruise under his old Baba's shirt, is that an illusion?"

Hang Yang gently closed his eyes where the wooden pile of smoke could not see, the fog covering his memory seemed to have dissipated a little, he suddenly tore off a corner of the veil to hide his ugliness, and saw the corner of his memory That hideous old wound.

In his impression - there is a child in my aunt's house, one year younger than myself, with a bit of a bad temper, and my aunt and uncle are not very polite to Hang Yang, but they still provide for him to grow up with food and drink, It can be considered as benevolent.

Is that so?Is it really benevolent?

No, no!

Hang Yang flashed in front of his eyes, as if something was swaying through the air with a sound of "buzz", and it was about to fall firmly on his body. Hang Yang's left finger moved slightly, and subconsciously wanted to raise his left arm to stop it. But this inexplicable impulse was forcibly pressed down by him.

Hang Yang remembered that at his aunt's house, he had been insulted and beaten frequently for a long time, especially during the first and second day of junior high school.

My uncle's business was in a downturn, so "it was a matter of course" that he regarded the extra mouths that were eating at home as "unlucky funeral stars", and worked as a low-level kid outside. Orphan vents vent.

A few times, when Hang Yang shrank in the corner of the room, gritted his teeth and was beaten, he would look at his aunt for help from under the arm tightly covering his head.

But his aunt—the younger sister who is related to his mother's blood, she only glanced at him briefly, and then walked away. Her eyes were empty and indifferent, as if she was looking at an object with no vital signs.

Hang Yang is still sitting in this cozy hut, everything around him has not changed, the temperature and humidity are just right, it should be completely comfortable, but he feels as if an invisible water surface is slowly rising, gradually submerging his chest, The neck, and finally the mouth and nose, so that his breathing stagnated for a few seconds, and then he had to use a strong cough to cover up his biological instinct to breathe heavily.

"Mr. Xiaohang, Teacher Xiaohang?" Muduiyan stood up quickly, and after seeing Hangyang's gesture of refusing to help, he walked aside and poured Hangyang a glass of warm water.

"Thank you." Hang Yang took the cup in his hand, but his throat was even convulsed with tension, and he couldn't swallow anything at all—even a sip of water.

So Hang Yang put the cup on his knee in silence, didn't say much, and looked at him quietly with a smile of "only skill but no emotion", and signaled Muduiyan to continue with his eyes.

"I found out that my classmate seems to be suffering from long-term and continuous domestic violence," Mu Duiyan said softly, "It's the kind of old wounds that are superimposed on new ones, and it won't heal."

"The situation improved after we entered the third year of junior high school and obtained the qualification to live in school. Studying is a source of pain and depression for others, but it is like a dream haven for him. I've never met anyone who worked harder than him at a good school, and of course he was doubly isolated because of it, but he didn't care."

"After graduating from the third year of junior high school, he was admitted to the Olympiad class of the best city key high school in the local area—with me," Muduiyan smiled lightly, and adjusted his glasses, "Yes, we are classmates again."

He clasped his fingers lightly: "As the surrounding environment improved and he lived on campus again, he gradually became more cheerful and talked a lot. That's when I thought: oh, maybe he's not a naturally withdrawn person, Maybe he liked to laugh and playful when he was young, and he was very popular because of his big brother personality who loves to help others...Of course, this is just my speculation."

Hang Yang sat opposite the wooden pile of smoke with a smiling mask nailed on his face, looking at him quietly with a pair of black eyes shining brightly.

Teacher Mu suddenly felt a chill in his back: it was as if his old classmate who had passed away was looking at him quietly through the eyes of this amazingly beautiful star in front of him.

"Mr. Xiaohang," Muduiyan looked at the wall clock on the wall deliberately, "It's getting late, why don't we make an appointment and talk next time?"

After a moment of silence, Hang Yang reacted slowly. He slowly put the cup in his hand on the coffee table, and slowly stood up. The whole person seemed to be pressed with a 0.5 times speed button. He rushed to the wood pile Yan nodded: "Of course, I am very touched by your classmate's story, but you mentioned it to me in such detail..."

"He has passed away for several years." Muduiyan said softly.

"Sorry." Hang Yang said, but there seemed to be no apology in his voice.

Finally, before Hang Yang left this consulting room, he looked at Muduiyan and said the longest sentence since we met today: "Teacher Mu, with all due respect, in your memories, I can see that you I am very concerned about this classmate, but...you seem to be just a very loyal camera, a camera that records everything perfectly, but nothing more. I can see that you feel sorry for this classmate, but he suffered from school bullying And domestic violence, I don't seem to hear what you really do?"

"You didn't chat with him? Even secretly?" Hang Yang said softly, "Or, if, I mean if, his so-called family members beat him at the school gate, would you like to go up and stop him?"

Muduiyan didn't expect Hang Yang to say such words at all, and his expression was blank for a few seconds, but he quickly returned to the previous calm and gentle, only tinged with a slight guilt: "I didn't."

It had been a while since the door in front of him had been closed, and Muduiyan didn't know if tens of seconds or minutes had passed. He stretched out his hand to the teacup in front of him in a trance, but the moment his fingertips touched the warm cup , As if being scalded, he shuddered and retracted his hand reflexively, but accidentally knocked over the cup.

Accompanied by the crisp sound of "pop" and the water stains splashed on the trousers, Muduiyan suddenly woke up.

At that moment just now, he almost regarded Hang Yang as "Hang Yang".

Muduiyan staggered to the sofa and sat down, holding half of his face with trembling hands, with only one thought in his mind: I think I'm really crazy.

The author has something to say:

In the end, a little abuse, after explaining Xiao Yang's story, he fell in love directly, and entered the copy of the variety show (wiping sweat)