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

"How was your chat with Mr. Mu?" Hang Xiutu asked while driving in front, "I see you chatted for nearly two hours."

"Yes, the coffee is delicious." Hang Yang lay in front of the car window, his breath slapping the glass when he spoke, covering it with a layer of mist.

"Coffee..." Hang Xiutu smiled, "Then I have to come to him for advice on how to make coffee later on."

"By the way," Hang Yang lowered his head and said in a low voice, "he also mentioned a classmate of his, who has the same name as me, also called 'Hang Yang', and he said that this 'Hang Yang' was also an actor. Brother, you Ever heard of this guy?"

Hang Xiutu was sitting in the driver's seat, and from Hang Yang's perspective, he couldn't see the expression on his face, only his slightly tensed jawline.

A few seconds later, Hang Xiutu's deep voice sounded: "Know."

Hang Yang froze for a moment, an indescribable taste drilled into his heart carefully, bringing indescribable mixed flavors, and finally only left a sigh in his heart: So he still remembers me.

Just listen to Hang Xiutu's voice and continue: "I filmed "Famous" with him."

Hang Yang whispered: "So he made "Famous"?"

"It's just a small supporting role, and there are no lines." Maybe it needs to be recalled, Hang Xiutu's speech speed is usually very slow, "but an excellent actor can explain the charm and characteristics of the character in just two acts. No one would have thought that he only has 7 minutes. The scenes of the show can get a lot of attention on the Internet, and it can be regarded as a dark horse that has become popular unintentionally."

"So I invited him to the celebration banquet, and I met him again."

"He, he is so inconspicuous, do you still remember him?" Hang Yang swallowed involuntarily.

Hang Xiutu was driving, unable to turn his head, he just "rebuked" lightly: "What's 'inconspicuous', what did you say."

"That person's health is not very good, but I was impressed by his eyes," Hang Xiutu lowered his voice a little, "very bright."

"If, I mean, if you have the opportunity to meet, you should hit it off very well."

In the corner of the back seat where Hang Xiutu could not see, Hang Yang raised the corner of his mouth slightly, trembling slightly, and said very vaguely: "You really remember him..."

Hang Xiutu didn't hear clearly: "What did you say?"

Hang Yang laughed: "nothing."

That night, Hang Yang went to bed early.

After rebirth, he seldom recalled his previous life, perhaps because of the great changes in his living environment, perhaps because he died once, or perhaps because he deliberately avoided it.All the details of memory, everything becomes hazy with the opening of the new life.

It was as if memories were crumpled into small balls and thrown into a glass full of water. Holding the glass, he could only see the refraction of the water and the glass, like looking at flowers in the fog and looking at the moon in the water.

But after seeing the woodpile smoke, some tiny, small fragments seemed to have quietly surfaced from the bottom of the water, and at some point, they quietly placed in front of Hang Yang.

—he could touch it as soon as he reached out.

In the dream, everything around suddenly quieted down, with the blue sky above and the water below.

Hang Yang's heartbeat suddenly accelerated, and every cell in his body seemed to be clamoring for him to stay away, but Hang Yang still squatted down tremblingly, and picked up the fragment of memory from the water——

All kinds of obscurity and beautification of memories in my subconscious are all invalid at this moment, and everything is completely exposed in front of Hang Yang.

"A mother's face should be extremely beautiful, always with a gentle smile"

no, no,

The mother's beauty has long been worn away in the repressed life, and the hazy and soft light in Hang Yang's memory faded away, making him shudder to see the real appearance of his mother: the woman's face is haggard and sallow, and the withered hair Mixed with silver threads that cannot be ignored, the whole person looks thin and shriveled, always slightly hunched, speaks softly, and even lowers his eyebrows.

His mother is a hard-working person who keeps saying that "a loss is a blessing".

She was originally admitted to university, but her family could not afford to support her. If she went far away, her only younger sister would drop out of school, so her mother went home and silently provided for her younger sister, watching her study step by step, walk into the city, find a decent job...

And her younger sister, who sacrificed everything to raise her, almost never came back here after she left the countryside.

In Hang Yang's impression, his mother rarely mentioned this little aunt. Occasionally, when she heard neighbors scolding "white-eyed wolf" and other gossip, she only smiled, neither angry nor sad, because life had been pulled away from her. Too much mental effort, leaving only a exhausted body||body.

In the second year of her mother's marriage, the man went to the south to work, while she supported a small shop in the town alone, relying on manual labor to make ends meet.

And the day she left her hometown forever was not to visit her husband, but to prevent a heartless man from abandoning her marriage.

When she left, she was not smiling, she was crying. The haggard woman took a deep look at her son and left her hometown in silence.

And what Hang Yang waited for was not the bad news that his parents died in a car accident—but his mother committed suicide by jumping off a tall building.

Hang Yang didn't know what kind of stimulation she received from the so-called "husband" in that wealthy and prosperous city. He only knew that when he heard his mother's name again, she had turned into a fragmented corpse.

The mother died because of the father's betrayal.

This is the truth.

The memory that was constantly beautified out of self-protection was suddenly shattered, and those distorted and ugly things floated up, and they were placed naked in Hang Yang, and he had nowhere to hide.

In the dream, Hang Yang suddenly became short of breath, and he broke out in cold sweat, like a dying fish just fished out of the water, screaming uncontrollably——

"Hang Yang!" With a loud "dong", Hang Xiutu stomped open the door, broke in directly, forced Hang Yang's curled up body open, and almost roared to him, "Breathe! Breathe!"

Hang Yang's scream quickly weakened, his trembling hand grabbed Hang Yang's arm that was about to hit 120, and while taking a deep breath, he made a hoarse voice like a gossamer: "Don't... I'm fine... Just, just, I had a nightmare..."

After he finished speaking, he seemed to have exhausted all his strength, tilted his head, and fell into a dreamless deep sleep.

Hang Xiutu was left to look at his face so pale that it was almost transparent, and the hand holding Hang Yang trembled rarely.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Is it because of the psychiatrist today?

What did that surnamed Mu tell him?

Hang Xiutu changed Hang Yang's clothes, helped him cover the quilt, and then stared closely at Hang Yang's side all night before returning to the room at dawn.

But what Hang Xiutu didn't expect was that Hang Yang insisted on going to Muduiyan for psychological counseling.What made him even more puzzling was that, except for the three words "having a nightmare", Hang Yang didn't mention anything about the situation that night.

As for Hang Yang himself, except for being more lethargic, it seems that nothing has changed.

The second time, when Hang Yang went to visit Muduiyan, the moment he entered the door, he could clearly feel the psychological counselor in front of him tremble.

"What's the matter?" Hang Yang smiled, "I don't think your condition is very good, don't healers heal themselves?"

Muduiyan quickly returned to normal, and he smiled lightly: "We are also ordinary people, and we also need regular consultations with psychological supervisors."

"Drink coffee?" He raised the cup in his hand and gestured to Hang Yang.

“Well.” Hang Yang nodded.

Muduiyan put the coffee in front of Hang Yang, and after a few seconds of silence, he tentatively said: "The last consultation turned into my one-sided storytelling, this time I think you can talk more, it's a happy thing , Unhappy things, just talk casually, how about it?"

Unexpectedly, Hang Yang flatly refused, and he smiled slightly at Muduiyan: "Teacher Mu, I think the story of another 'Hang Yang' gave me a lot of spiritual strength. From your description, he should be a A kind and generous person is right, since he has been dead for several years, he probably won’t mind you using his story to inspire more living people, don’t you think so?”

Muduiyan: "..."

Even though his face was completely different, Hang Yang sitting in front of him made him feel more and more like the person in his memory. Muduiyan's blinking speed slowed down a bit. After a while, he slowly said: "I and him I was promoted to the same high school and the same class, because my family overcame difficulties and my family conditions got better and better, my parents planned to send me abroad to study in university, so from the third year of high school, I entered the international class.”

"After the final exam at the end of the second year of high school, the school gave the Olympian class a two-week vacation. The other students grabbed their schoolbags and left. He was the only one..." Muduiyan said softly, "He was dawdling on the seat. I don’t want to go home, but, maybe I’m about to leave the group, and in a class with only two people left, I walked over suddenly.”

This may be the last time Muduiyan saw this person. He walked up to Hang Yang, and just patted his shoulder lightly. The thin and thin boy trembled violently, and knocked down Mudui in an instant. Yan's hand, seeing his suddenly pale face, Muduiyan instantly understood: this is almost pathological mental sensitivity after domestic violence—especially now that he is about to go home, his anxiety may have reached its peak.

Facing Hang Yang's "sorry" and "sorry" over and over again, Muduiyan quickly interrupted: "It's okay."

He sat down at the table in front of Hang Yang, paused for a few seconds, and spoke again, but it was just a trivial matter: "A few days ago, when they organized a group to scold Liu Yang behind their backs, I saw you put earplugs on."

There was no trace of blood on Hang Yang's pale face. He stared quietly at the wooden pile of smoke, and after a long while, he only whispered: "I just feel that there is a lot of noise."

"Last week during the cleaning, the top ten students in those classes hid in empty classrooms to do their homework, and the teacher didn't say anything." Mu Duiyan stared into his eyes, "Only you called them, didn't you?"

Hang Yang lowered his eyes: "but no one came back."

Muduiyan was silent for a long time, and then said: "You are the same as junior high school, you have not changed."

"This is the last time I saw him." Muduiyan whispered, he frowned, and didn't even notice the change in Hang Yang's expression at all. This memory seemed to be full of struggles for him.

"This is the last time you saw him..." Hang Yang repeated in a low voice, and slowly closed his eyes. Along with the words "old friend", he seemed to read it again slowly - to see himself in the end How did it lead to death.

This may be the most gaffe in Muduiyan's consulting career. He took the young master of the Hang family who had the same name and surname but never the same fate in front of him as his poor old friend, and told him the story that had been accumulated in his heart for many years: "I went abroad Finally, within a short period of time, I, I discovered—"

Muduiyan's voice lowered: "I don't know that it started from that moment in the five years of my classmate's life. I fell in love with him."

Fortunately, he didn't look up, so he couldn't see how shocked Hang Yang's expression was at this moment.

"But I don't have his contact information, and the classmates I contacted don't know his whereabouts. Some of them only vaguely heard from the head teacher that he was admitted to H University..."

"But when I return to China," Muduiyan held half of his face with one hand, the corners of his eyes trembling slightly, "he is no longer here."

"I didn't know what I was missing until the moment the news of his death was in front of me."

In the car returning home, Hang Yang held the back of the front seat and asked in a low voice: "Brother, do you know that 'Hang Yang' with the same name and surname as mine has passed away?"

The corner of Hang Xiutu's right eye trembled inexplicably, he was silent for a while, and answered clearly: "I know."

"Didn't "Famous" vigorously promote that it was his posthumous work?"

Hang Xiutu's voice was flat, and he couldn't hear too much emotion: "A person's death should not be consumed."

Hang Yang was silent for a while, and continued to ask: “then do you know how he died?”

This time, after a long silence, Hang Xiutu said, "I, I don't know."

Hang Yang slowly lay back on the backrest, covering his eyes with one arm, and smiled silently.

Only then did he realize belatedly that in this vast world, when he died quietly, no one mourned for him.

The author has something to say:

I promise to end this little abuse tomorrow and let the two of them go into a relationship (wipe off again)