Aesthetics of Violence [Entertainment]

It was three o'clock when I came out of the hospital.

I still remember memorizing it in geography class when I was a child. The warmest time of the day is two o'clock in the afternoon.Ge Qiao took a deep breath of the cold winter air, and then shivered.He was a little curious, how warm can it be at two o'clock in the afternoon in winter?

"Do you want to go back to the company?"

"...Well, I don't really want to go."

"Would you like to visit my studio?"

Hearing Zhong Mingcan's always calm voice, Ge Qiao suddenly felt at ease. With his personality, he seemed to regard everything as floating clouds, rarely lost his temper, and always restrained his emotional ups and downs. Joe knew him, probably just a passerby with a weak sense of existence.

But it is this soft personality that occasionally bursts out with a strange force.This is probably like the winter air at two o'clock in the afternoon, it is always the warmest moment in the cold.

"Okay."

Hearing his quick promise, Zhong Mingcan raised the corners of his mouth, a little proud. He felt that he really knew more and more when Ge Qiao was the best to speak, as long as he was unable to react or had no idea to attack Ask questions, no matter what the request is, he will answer.

The 25-year-old man was secretly delighted that he had finally caught the "handle" of his sweetheart.

"Let's go, let's go to the vegetable market to buy some ingredients, and dinner will be settled together."

Ge Qiao was surprised: "Can you still cook in the studio?" Live so delicately?

Zhong Mingcan nodded: "Well, of course."

Not only can you cook, but you can also sleep if you want.

Ge Qiao silently followed Zhong Mingcan to the bus station, barely functioning his brain that was still in a dull state after being frightened all day, thinking about the size of Zhong Mingcan's studio with a kitchen, until he got into the car and sat down by the window , was awakened by the air-conditioning and gasoline smell mixed in the carriage, and finally reacted.

"Where is your studio?"

"At home." The little fool had found the point.

Ge Qiao was at a loss for words. At first, he felt speechless. When he invited someone to his house, he just said to go to his house. Why did he have to emphasize the "studio"?After thinking about it again, I suddenly became a little embarrassed. Zhong Mingcan realized what I hadn't settled down before. Fortunately, I was still so entangled before. I guess Zhong Mingcan didn't know that "inviting me to be a guest at home" didn't mean anything to Ge Qiao, who was innocent. What does it mean to a single gay boy.

Forget it, the ignorant is innocent, Ge Qiao thought to himself, then I should pretend that I don't know anything.

After doing a good job of psychological construction, he became more confident, smacked his lips, and started thinking about the dinner menu again.

"You know how to cook? When did you learn it?"

Zhong Mingcan answered solemnly: "A person studying abroad, if he can't cook, he will starve to death."

It's a pity that Ge Qiao didn't believe it. If he didn't know how to cook, he would have to starve to death. Then how did he survive the past 28 years: "How could it be so exaggerated..."

"Really, if you don't believe me, go to the United States and try it for a week. When you get there, you will have to..." He couldn't give an example, and suddenly got stuck, staring up at the back of the head of the person in the front seat of the car, thinking about a suitable description, and suddenly had an idea Moved, "If you were asked to eat McDonald's every day, wouldn't it be terrible?"

Ge Qiao suddenly thought of the very formalistic winter picnic at noon today, and couldn't help laughing out loud, leaning against the car window and leaning on his body, "hehe" and having fun. Ge Qiao's beautiful peach-blossom eyes were filled with a layer of moisture, shining brightly, and when he smiled again, his eyebrows and eyes curved, and suddenly there was an indescribable allure.

Zhong Mingcan glanced at it, his throat tightened in his heart, he quickly looked away, and accidentally noticed that a male passenger standing in front of him was also sneaking at Ge Qiao. He said it was sneaking, but he didn't How to cover it up, he held the armrest of the suspension ring with one hand, tilted his head, rested his chin on the raised arm, stood in a distorted posture that looked uncomfortable, and slipped his gaze to Ge Qiao's face from time to time, the nightmare Take a look, and then pretend to look out the window.Although everyone has a love of beauty, but when it comes to Ge Qiao, in Zhong Mingcan's view, this kind of behavior is a complete hooligan.

He wanted to warn that person with his eyes, but he ignored him.Therefore, Zhong Mingcan raised his hand and pulled out Ge Qiao's down jacket and hood that was pressed on his back, and covered his head with a "swipe", covering most of Ge Qiao's face, and blocked his sight. Living.Ge Qiao was caught off guard, and was once again enveloped by a black shadow falling from the sky, so frightened that he stopped laughing instantly.

"...Fuck me, what's the matter?"

After Ge Qiao reacted, he quickly raised his hand to pick up the black shadow in front of his eyes, widened his eyes and looked around, there was nothing unusual, and then put his suspicious eyes on Zhong Mingcan's face.

Zhong Mingcan's face did not change: "The sun is too strong, it is not good for the eyes, help you to block it."

Ge Qiao, who is intermittently "stupid, white and sweet", really believed this, his expression relaxed, and he let go of the hand holding the brim of his hat, living up to Zhong Mingcan's "good intentions", letting the black shadow block his vision, with the aftertaste of a smirk just now He said "hey" twice, and happily added "thank you".

Beautiful things are so rudely put away.

The standing passenger was caught by someone with a heart, and his eyes instantly lost their direction.Zhong Mingcan watched him take back that hooliganism in a daze, and his satisfied mood at this moment was as if he had just won a battle.

Zhong Mingcan took Ge Qiao to the vegetable market near his home first.

It is said to be a vegetable market, but it is actually a tourist attraction development zone planned to sell folk customs and simplicity. Ge Qiao looked at the three characters "Shatang Lane" engraved on the stone arch above his head, and sighed in his heart that it is indeed the residence that the artist fancy Even the place that sells vegetables has such an obscure name, this is the real delicacy down to the bone, and looking at Shen Yan's hypocritical image project, it can make people laugh out loud.

Shamelessly in his heart, he stomped on each other with all his strength, and followed Zhong Mingcan closely, his eyes never idle, looking left and right curiously.

The name of Shatang Lane is not in vain. This vegetable market is indeed transformed from a long alley. There are many shops on both sides of the street. There are independent houses and buildings that do not interfere with each other. They all use uniformly designed signboards. Neatly.In front of each store is a ceiling lamp with light yellow light, which will be lit at [-] pm in winter, which is very warm and eloquent.Because the shops are separated, when there is no business to do, the bosses will hide in the comfortable heating room and chatter, and there is no need to come out to hawk or walk around the streets, so the whole market is very quiet, only occasionally. Hear the sound of the wind blowing.

Ge Qiao has never seen such a clean and beautiful vegetable market. In his impression, or prejudice, the noise full of human touch and the messy harmony are what it should be like here.

Of course, the vegetable market in the traditional sense still exists, in fact, it is only a 10-minute walk away from here, but Zhong Mingcan knows that Ge Qiao is a person who does not touch the spring water, and is afraid of warm greetings and greetings with the uncles and aunts he is familiar with. Ge Qiao was scared, so he pretended to be a jerk aggrievedly and brought him here.

But in his opinion, this place is just a beautifully packaged commercial street, and there is really no life atmosphere.

Even Zhong Mingcan felt a little regretful because the fireworks here were too thin.After all, it was hard for him to find the best way to attack Ge Qiao, so he started from his weakness and let Ge Qiao adapt to the ordinary and happy "life in the world" as soon as possible.

The two of them had a heated discussion about what to have for dinner while walking around. After hearing Ge Qiao's series of "reported dish names" without panting, Zhong Mingcan, who was in charge of the cook, responded with a hmm, and quickly bought tomatoes, Eggs, and a few bundles of Shanghai Greens, I decided to make him a bowl of tomato and egg noodles when I went back.

Before leaving, because he was worried that Ge Qiao would slap the table and get mad when he saw him arbitrarily changing delicacies from mountains and seas to simple meals, he even pretended to be pampered, but actually bribed him to buy two catties of fried chestnuts with sugar.

Stepping into the house, Zhong Mingcan habitually glanced at his phone, it was not yet 05:30.

Inviting Ge Qiao to come to the house is really an unexpected harvest. Too many things happened today, probably thinking that it doesn't matter if there is one more thing, just mentioning it casually, and Ge Qiao answering it casually, and it is now like this.

Because all the items in the house are used by Zhong Mingcan himself, and there is only one piece, so he encountered difficulties when he first entered the door.

He rubbed his nose a little embarrassedly: "Well, I'm the only one in the house, so there are no extra slippers..."

Ge Qiao didn't care. After taking a look, he felt that the wooden floor in the room was quite clean. As soon as he kicked off his shoes, he would go in: "It's okay, I'll just go in with my socks on."

This is the way of hospitality!

Zhong Mingcan quickly grabbed him and kicked his slippers to Ge Qiao's feet: "You can wear mine."

Ge Qiao was stunned for a moment, but he didn't refuse. When he stepped on it, another thought slipped by. This person is obviously only a little taller than him, but why are his feet so much bigger than him?

"Sit down and rest for a while, and I'll clean up the room."

Ge Qiao secretly looked at Zhong Mingcan's house. Last time he saw the musical and sent him home, he just wandered around the neighborhood. Now he finally has a chance to glimpse the internal structure, but he is a guest, and he dare not be blatant Wandering around, but slowed down the pace of walking towards the sofa, trying to stretch his neck out of sight, his eyes rolling back and forth.

Zhong Mingcan's voice came through a wall: "Don't be cautious, just look at it casually."

This man is as keen as a surveillance camera.

Ge Qiao cleared his throat in embarrassment, looking for something to say: "Then what, you still need to tidy up your studio before you can see people?"

Just at this time, the voice from the other side of the wall came again: "...Okay, come in."

Hearing this, Ge Qiao slipped in with a turn and a slippery step. Zhong Mingchan stood beside the door with a smile on his face, patted the Beijing drum that had been moved to the corner, and grandly introduced to Ge Qiao with the sound of dong dong. own studio.

"This is my studio. All the things I usually use to write music are here. It's a bit messy, but it's orderly in the chaos."

Ge Qiao glanced over the electronic piano, the guitar leaning against the wall, the Loopstation[Note] with wires on the floor, the messy score and draft paper on the table, and finally stared intently at the On that large projection screen, his face was calm, but his heart was already surging. It would be ridiculous to talk about dreams when he was almost 30 years old, but for Ge Qiao, although he was still satisfied with the status quo, music was still the one thing that he could not do. Realize the dream you always dreamed of.

"The song that will be competed in next week has been recorded, do you want to listen to it?"

"The one adapted with Dong Linzhi? You said that the original song is a Peking opera?"

"Yes...it's a bit difficult, but the effect is not bad."

As Zhong Mingcan said, he turned on the projection screen, quickly clicked the mouse a few times to bring up an audio file, and pretended to be modest before opening it: "In case you feel dissatisfied, don't make it too obvious..."

However, what is the probability that Zhong Mingcan will dissatisfy Ge Qiao?

Smart, bewitching, soft...

Brilliant, stunning, and avant-garde.

How did he do that?Dare to make Peking Opera forget the rules and regulations, and give up the formal and euphemistic posture.

The sound of Beijing drums is deep, the piano is light, the strings are melodious, and the female voice is charming.

The progress bar has only gone for more than ten seconds, but Ge Qiao's mind seems to have exploded with fireworks, shouting and jumping for joy. Facts have proved that Ge Qiao's vision is really good. Bole meets a dark horse, and a craftsman sees Pu. Jade.He unknowingly brought eighty layers of fan filters to himself, and felt that it would not be an exaggeration to use all the beautiful words in the world on this melody.The ear-scratching electronic sounds and strong drumbeats in those widely acclaimed pop music are completely incomparable to the shock brought by such a modern adaptation of the national style.

"How is it?" Zhong Mingcan waited for his reaction, a little nervously waiting.

But Ge Qiao didn't know what kind of reaction he should make to be worthy of Zhong Mingcan's work, he choked for a moment, and finally squeezed out two words from between his lips: "... Awesome."

With his affirmation, Zhong Mingcan breathed a sigh of relief and grinned: "I also think she's awesome. I really didn't expect Miss Dong to sing so well."

Dong Linzhi's voice was brilliant, but what surprised Ge Qiao the most was the seemingly indifferent person in front of him.

But Ge Qiao still followed his words: "That's not surprising, after all, Dong Linzhi used to be the idol of all middle-aged uncles, and he must have two brushes."

"Are you coming to the show next week?"

Ge Qiao's eyes widened all of a sudden, shining brightly: "Can I go?"

"It's all voted by the audience. Although most of the places are applied for from the official website of the TV station, the contestants have the privilege. They can call relatives and friends to help out."

"Then you..." After a pause, Ge Qiao still asked this question that he had always been curious about but never mentioned, "Aren't your parents invited?"

"No." Although he refused without hesitation, he couldn't hear any special emotion, "They won't come."

Ge Qiao intuitively felt that this was a very sensitive question, so it was inconvenient to ask in detail, so he simply changed the subject, pointed to a small thing in the shape of a prism on the electric piano and asked, "What is this?"

Zhong Mingcan walked over and picked up the thing and threw it to Ge Qiao: "The metronome [note] is for rhythm."

Feeling fresh, Ge Qiao fiddled with this little machine over and over again, and hooked up the corner of his mouth, and then hooked out the coquettish nonsense he had hidden: "You still need this? Didn't you say that awesome musicians Do you count BPM[note] by shaking your legs? Can't you?"

Unexpectedly, Zhong Mingcan answered seriously: "I don't use this thing often, I usually count it by myself."

Ge Qiao raised his eyes and observed Zhong Mingcan's expression carefully. He really couldn't tell when this sincere-looking person was telling the truth and when he was telling lies.With a flick of his finger, he turned on the metronome, and while fiddling with the swinging hammer, he said provocatively, "Then can you know what BPM it is now?"

For a while, the room was so quiet that only the mechanical sound of "tick" from the metronome could be heard.

"Between 120 and 125."

The fingers flicked again: "What about this one?"

"Around 200."

Ge Qiao believed it, curled his lips, turned off the machine and put it back on the electric piano.

He also lost interest in sadism because he couldn't see his idol making a fool of himself. He asked casually, "Is it possible that as long as you have the rhythm, you can calculate it like this? Including your own leg shaking speed?"

"more or less."

After finishing speaking, Zhong Mingcan was relentless, wanting to take advantage of the victory and chase after him: "How is it? Is it fierce?"

Ge Qiao rolled his eyes: "It's amazing, but it killed you."

He kicked on his slippers and turned back to the sofa in the living room to sit down. His repressed ruthlessness was also exposed. He quickly lost the consciousness of being a guest and raised his voice: "When are you going to eat? I'm hungry!"

In front of Ge Qiao, Zhong Mingcan seemed to be an old mother who had her heart broken. She entered the bedroom, took out a thin blanket from the closet, and threw it to this useless "stupid son". As she walked into the kitchen, she ordered: "Cover it first, the floor heating has just been turned on, and it's still a little cold, I'm going to cook."

Having been accustomed to Shen Yan and Zhu Zan for so many years, Ge Qiao has long been at ease with this level of care.He stretched himself, curled up on the sofa and played with his mobile phone.

Even though Ge Qiao was far away, he could still hear subtle movements in the kitchen.

The "click" sound of ignition, the sound of splashing oil when frying, and the crisp sound of some bottles and cans.

These sounds are connected together, when Ge Qiao thinks that they are all produced by Zhong Mingcan, he suddenly feels that each sound seems to be deliberately arranged, becoming the sudden inspiration of the composer, each sound is a note, and he You just need to arrange them regularly to form a series of chords in a boring cycle.

Ge Qiao couldn't help but start thinking wildly again, is it like this when Shen Yan and Zhu Zan are cooking in the apartment?

Just as he waited and waited, and suddenly felt bored and wanted to get up to visit the kitchen, Zhong Mingcan had already come out with a plate and a bowl. He stretched his legs, hooked out the chair under the dining table with his foot, and put the still steaming The noodles were placed on the table with a bang, and a series of movements flowed smoothly. At the end, he called out to Ge Qiao: "Come and eat."

After finishing speaking, he turned back into the studio, dragged out the leather swivel chair he bought at a high price to inspire inspiration, and put it in front of the dining table. .

"Thank you for the dinner." Ge Qiao had already sat down, took the chopsticks handed over by Zhong Mingcan, and watched him bring out another disposable chopsticks, "Is there only one for everything in your house?"

It has only been a year since Zhong Mingcan returned to China, and Ge Qiao is the first guest in this house. When he lived alone before, he thought that as long as he had enough daily necessities, he suddenly realized that there is really nothing at home.

His eyes suddenly drifted over Ge Qiao to the TV. It was left by the previous tenant, and it was a new one just bought back. It's just that the screen is a bit small, and occasionally it will tire your eyes.

A thought slipped through the gap, obviously at a fleeting speed, but he grabbed it.

"What do you think, how about installing a projector at home?"

Ge Qiao was stunned by this thoughtless question, still chewing a small piece of tomato in his mouth, slowly turned his head and looked around the living room, nodded: "It's good, it must be more comfortable when watching a movie. "

Following his example, Zhong Mingcan raised his eyes, turned sideways, and scanned every corner of the room slowly and earnestly, and finally nodded.

His voice was very soft, as if he was talking to himself: "Well, I also think that installing a projector can make our home look more cozy."

The author has something to say: [Note] Loopstation: A composition machine that records audio tracks while playing musical instruments, that is to say, it can be used to superimpose another melody on one melody, without computer editing, it can be directly compose.

[Note] BPM: beatperminute, the number of drum beats in 1 minute is the counting unit of beat.

[Note] Metronome: The sound is the same as the countdown of a bomb. Since the rise of various mobile phone software that imitates the metronome, this small machine has become less common.It is a nightmare for piano beginners, but it is useless and will only bring shadows to young minds.

Water past a chapter of daily life~