Yanyun Fengyue

"Wen Mo, I've never thought about it like this!" Huai Yan supported his arm, and the wound was beating with blood, as if the heartbeat accelerated by the severe pain came from here, and Liu Hao took it into the hands of the crew. While stopping Huai Yan's bleeding, he couldn't help shouting to Liang Wenmo: "If Mr. Jiang hadn't saved you, you would have been smashed to death. Instead of helping to treat the wound, you are messing around here! Do you have a conscience!"

"Just let me die inside!" Liang Wenmo drank with red eyes, turned around and was about to go down the mountain, just in time to bump into the director Hu Jiabin who hurried from the city.

"Hey, Mr. Liang!! Are you okay?" Hu Jiabin pinched Liang Wenmo's shoulders and looked them up and down carefully, "I'm going to the city, so I never expected you to come now! It's Xiao Pei and me. Said..."

"Cough cough!" Liang Wenmo coughed suddenly, and Hu Jiabin realized that he had slipped his words. He raised his eyes and saw Huai Yan was injured, so he hurriedly trotted over, took a look and gasped, "Mr. Jiang is so hurt. ! How did you do it?"

"It was scratched by an iron nail." Liu Hao was very anxious, "The nail must have rusted after a long time, and I have to go to the hospital immediately to get Titnis antitoxin..."

"My God...there is a war in the city! Do you see the flames? The bomb was dropped on the mountainside, so the house on our set collapsed..." Hu Jiabin's bald head was wet with snowflakes, "Well, Everyone hid in the air-raid shelter if nothing happened, and just now a prop master had his toe broken, and Xiao Liu drove them to the hospital in the city together!"

"Director Hu..." Xiao Pei frowned and said, "Gas prices have skyrocketed these days. Did you forget that you were not willing to refuel that day? Now there is not enough left in the fuel tank to drive to the city."

"Put the oil of several cars together, we can't kill people." Hu Jiabin glanced nervously at Huai Yan's pale face, but someone whispered again: "The city is so dangerous... Let's go Will something happen?"

The empty field suddenly became very quiet, the sound of gunfire and bullets could be heard in the distance, the snow was getting heavier and heavier, everyone stood still, hesitating, a beautiful brand new car drove up from nowhere, eagerly After honking the horn twice, everyone raised their heads. Liang Wenmo was sitting in the driver's seat. He still had a sullen face and said angrily, "I'm going to the city. If you want a ride, come up quickly."

"Mr. Liang, I apologize to you, you are a good person!" Liu Hao was not polite, and directly pulled Huai Yan into the back seat, and everyone carried the prop master who was grinning in pain to the car. Liu Hao was in the passenger seat. After sitting down, Liang Wenmo stepped on the accelerator and drove out of the mountains.

It is tens of kilometers from the set to the hospital, the slippery mountain road is not easy to walk, and the city is full of traces of street fighting. Fortunately, no troops from the two sides were encountered. Liang Wenmo sent them to the hospital. After leaving in the car, Liu Hao went through the formalities for Huai Yan and the prop master. After Huai Yan's wound was treated properly, he sat down on the chair in the ward sweating profusely.

"Brother Hao...too much trouble for you today..." Huai Yan poured him a glass of water with his uninjured hand, and Liu Hao hurriedly took the thermos from his hand, "Mr. Injury is my fault..."

"The antitoxin has been administered, and the wound has been sutured. It's nothing serious." Huai Yan lowered his eyelashes, silently staring at his gauze-wrapped arm.

"Mr. Jiang, I don't know if I should say something." Liu Hao rested for a moment, looked up at Huai Yan and said, "Liang Wenmo probably has something to hide from you..."

"I know... Maybe he's not writing novels these days." Huai Yan's face didn't show any ups and downs. He looked at the gray and gloomy sky outside the ward, and the snow had already fallen like flakes.

Liang Wenmo drove around the deserted streets of Kaifeng. Because of the war, the doors of every house were closed, the electric lights gave off sickly white light, and the snowflakes under the lamps danced like moths. As he stopped, he felt like a lonely ghost.

There was always a smell of leather in the new car, Liang Wenmo habitually took out the perfume bottle and sprayed it twice, but was nauseated by the mixed smell of the two.

He staggered out of the car, and the fresh cold air poured into his abdominal cavity. He took a few deep breaths, and his throat hurt from the cold.

"A girl in a boudoir is as sad as the spring evening, looking forward to the good news and other good news, and there is no news, full of lovesickness, who can I tell, the flowers and leaves left behind after spring, flowers and leaves."

In the sluggish streets and alleys, the faint sound of singing could be heard from far away. Liang Wenmo was used to listening to Beijing opera, and he always felt that Henan opera's writing was indecent, and his makeup was not refined, but at this moment in the cold and windy night, A few lines of libretto really bring some human touch, and it also coincides with my own state of mind.

Liang Wenmo stepped on the snow and walked deep into the street. It turns out that there are many teahouses and theaters on this street, which are places for people to entertain. There are so many footprints, everyone seems to have evacuated early, only one teahouse with its door ajar, casting the dim light of an oil lamp, when Liang Wenmo approached, the singer inside began to weep softly, Liang Wenmo could not help but With a smile, it was really "ten out of Henan opera and eight out of crying", without hesitation, he patted the door knocker twice, pushed the door open and walked in.

This is an old teahouse. There are dilapidated benches lined up in a mess under the stage. The curtains are crimson red, making the pink clothes of the people on the stage crimson. The person stopped singing when he heard the knock on the door and stared at Liang Wenmo walked in, as if he was frightened, and after a while, he walked over lightly and slowly, as if stepping on a lotus, and said softly: "Guest officer, the teahouse will be closed this afternoon..."

Liang Wenmo took a closer look, this is a very young male actor, about sixteen or seventeen years old, with a faint scent of rouge on his body, without makeup, his eyebrows are like a crescent moon, and his eyes are as clear as autumn water Black and white are distinct, crystal tears are still hanging on the face, and there is something in the eyes that looks like Huaiyan. Although it is not as beautiful as the latter, it is still delicate and beautiful.

The expensively dressed man didn't talk to him, but just stared at him seriously. The boy wiped his face with his cuff in shame, lowered his eyes and whispered, "Guest officer...it's not peaceful outside, why haven't you come back so late?" Woolen cloth?"

"It's not peaceful outside, aren't you still practicing here?" Liang Wenmo walked to the bench in the middle and sat down, rubbing his hands and saying, "Why is it so cold, isn't there a stove in the hall?"

"The stove is too small, the heat cannot be transmitted to the stage, so it simply went out." The boy came over, rolled up his long sleeves, added a few pieces of charcoal with iron scissors, lit wood and threw them into the stove. The fire gradually grew stronger.

Liang Wenmo saw that he was so thin, his slender waist was unbearable to hold, and there were some bruises on the side of his snow-white wrist, so he knew that he had suffered a lot, so he asked with some compassion: "How old are you, and what is your name?"

"Seventeen, just call me Ling Chuang." Ling Chuang brought him the tea set, but Liang Wenmo stopped him, "Do you have any wine here?"

Ling Chuang opened his eyes and glanced at Liang Wenmo in surprise, and then took out a bottle of Dukang from the cabinet. Liang Wenmo, as if he had found a treasure, opened it, poured it into a teacup, and drank it.

"Can you sing a few songs for me? These are all for you."

Liang Wenmo took out another stack of banknotes from his wallet and put them on the table. Ling Chuang waved his hands in fright, and said that he couldn't use them. The team was not there, and he didn't act himself.

"It's nothing more than peach blossom flour noodles, almond eyes and cherry lips, even if you don't paint it. I just heard that you have a good voice, and your singing is full of charm." Liang Wenmo waved his hand nonchalantly, and Ling Chuang asked him to play, and he said that he also I haven't heard many Yu operas, so I can sing at will.

"The apricot blossoms bloom in Jiujinchun, the swan geese fly to the purple swallows, and the butterflies fly across the wall..."

Ling Chuang looked at his expression, returned to the stage and sang "Peach Blossom Temple", he thought while singing, how could a rich man like this have any worries?