embrace the moon

Silent, like an evening cloud. ——Gu Cheng

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three years ago.

The lights in the huge studio were dimly lit, flickering on and off, and the air was mixed with the thick oily smell of paint, and the smell of dry and slippery wood or damp and rough wood.The colors of the world faded from the eyes one by one, and finally the rest was as quiet as lifeless black, white and gray.

A middle-aged man sat in front of an old wooden table covered with mottled paint, sighed in disappointment and helplessness, and said earnestly: "The national competition is about to start, are you sure you want to quit the competition?"

Looking down at the boundless darkness in front of her eyes coldly, she nodded, not knowing whether it was numbness or firmness, revealing unquestionable determination.

"I felt sad when your painting was not exhibited last time," said the middle-aged man. "This opportunity is hard-won, so you should think carefully about it!"

Leng Qing raised the corners of his mouth and smiled, with boundless bitterness in his smile, he said: "Mr. Zhao, you also know my situation, I..."

He didn't finish speaking, it seemed that he was still unbearable and lonely when he mentioned it, and he said instead: "Jian Qiao is no worse than me now, and it is most suitable to give him this opportunity. Goodbye."

He turned and went out the door, and the strong smell of oil paint was taken away from him one by one, and was sealed in the studio where he spent his entire youthful years.

Qi Zirui stood behind the door and turned to watch him leave this place step by step.

He had taken nothing from the studio, and he would never need it again anyway.These things, brushes, paints, scrapers, canvases, picture frames...these were once the pride that submerged in his bones, and the indelible self-esteem between his head and eyebrows.

But now, it has become his eternal fantasy and luxury for the rest of his life.

Lengqing walked onto the street, the cool wind was blowing outside, slipped into the shirt from the cuffs, it was cold, and it made a heart that had nowhere to rest empty.He turned around and walked all the way to the downstairs of the community. In the dark night, the road was empty and there were not a few people to be seen. The street lamp standing alone by the roadside emitted an unclear warm yellow light.

A voice suddenly came from behind him, breaking the lifeless silence: "Stop."

He stopped in a calm and obedient manner, looked at the gate of the unit building, and did not speak.

Jian Qiao leaned against the lamppost, moved his fingers that were already chilled and stiff, and asked, "Are you leaving?"

Leng Qing raised his eyes and looked at the window on the third floor that was still lit. The original warm yellow light turned into a dying gray in his eyes.

"Speak." Jian Qiao lost his patience.

"Yeah." Leng Qing answered.Yes, I'm leaving, maybe I can't come back.

"Why?" Jian Qiao asked.

Leng Qing didn't answer, and now he doesn't want to say a word, he really wants to turn his head, look at him, run over, and hug him, just like when they were inseparable back then.

Leng Qing turned his back to him, and smiled softly, Jian Qiao is so good at face, but ran downstairs to his house without authorization to ask him why he left, so it was right to treat him as a way to keep him.

This was the only farewell in Leng Qing's heart. Later, his classmates sent him all the way to the airport without Jian Qiao.Those people said "goodbye" with reluctance on their faces, but he knew in his heart that no one was more reluctant to part with him than the person who couldn't even say "Can you leave" with a cold face.

Jian Qiao rushed over, grabbed him by the collar, and pushed him towards the door.Leng Qing slammed into the iron door, and his heart ached.He clenched his teeth, his face was pale and bloodless, his breathing gradually became rapid, and his fingertips were as cool as ice cubes.

"Why?" Jian Qiao repeated harshly.

If you leave, our promises and our common vision will be shattered in this powerless and tiring world.Jian Qiao didn't say these words, he believed that Leng Qing understood everything, but precisely because he understood, why did he let him guard their past so unbearably alone?

Looking down at him coldly, he raised his arms and approached his shoulders little by little. When his fingertips lightly touched his shirt, he lowered his hand weakly.

"Jian Qiao, I'm sorry." Leng Qing pushed him away, opened the door and walked in.

Jian Qiao looked at the closed gate and stood there.The lights in the corridor dimmed, leaving him only the silence under the dim street lights.

When Leng Qing returned home, her steps were unsteady, she collapsed by the bed, picked up the water glass from the bedside, and drank it with her head up.

Holding the cold glass with his fingertips, he remembered the scene of the previous few days.

"Do I have to take medicine?" he asked.

The strong smell of disinfectant in the hospital permeated every inch of the air. The doctor sat behind the table in a clean and spotless white coat and sighed softly: "This kind of medicine does cause color weakness. I know it will be a big blow to you, but There is no other way."

He nodded and smiled forcedly: "Okay."

Now he cherishes every bright color under the strong light very much. Once the light goes dark, his sight and his heart also go dark.

Leng Qing withdrew her thoughts, opened the drawer of the bedside table, took out several boxes of medicines, took out a large handful of medicines one by one, put them in the palm of her hand, and swallowed them with her head raised.

He paused for a while before getting up to take a shower.The dense water vapor in the bathroom rose up, wrapping his arms softly.Water droplets trickled down his hair, along the contours of his cheeks to the tip of his chin, dripping down.

The light in the bathroom was very dim, and when he entered the door, he even had a momentary impulse to turn off the light altogether.

You see people are really strange, the more sad and heartbroken you are, the more you want to tear off the blood-stained scar on your heart, let disappointment penetrate every inch of your skin, and make the depressed and lost heart even more unbearable.

Since taking a lot of medicine, his vision has become worse and worse. When the light is strong, he can still see every color clearly like a normal person. When the light is a little darker, the world begins to change, becoming gray, pale, and invisible. Vitality is full of despair that cannot be reversed, has no way out, and has no way out.

As the sky darkened, it quietly brightened again.Opening his eyes desertedly, he saw the bright and brilliant colors in front of him, coffee-colored curtains, dark blue sheets, a white shirt thrown on the bedside, a blue-gray ceramic cup, an off-white lampshade, and the blue and clean sky outside the window.

He propped up the bed and sat up, staring at the bright blue outside the window in a daze.A gust of cool wind came in and tousled his hair.

He packed up and went out, and came to the studio where he and Jian Qiao used to draw together to make money.A man with beards was sitting at the desk writing, when he heard someone open the door he raised his head.

"Come?" The man said, pushing the contract in his hand forward, and placed it in front of Leng Leng.

"You also know that if you don't continue to paint, you will have to pay high liquidated damages," the man said. "Originally, this contract will expire next year. If you think about it, you really want to break the contract? This money Not a small amount."

Leng Qing didn't speak, looked at the string of numbers on the contract, paused for a moment, reached out to pick up the pen on the table, and signed his name.

The bearded man watched him sign, slapped his hand on his thigh, shook his head and sighed: "Oh, young people nowadays never think long-term when doing things, they only want to have fun for a while, and don't take money seriously! Back then we..."

"Is there anything else?" Leng Qing put down his pen after signing his name, and interrupted him to look back passionately.

"...Huh?" The bearded man stopped and thought for a while, "It's gone, the only thing left is for you to remit the money."

Nodding coldly, he turned and left the studio neatly.When he went out, he could still see the paintings hanging on the wall, some were painted by Jian Qiao, and some were painted by himself.Stepping out of this room, he will no longer have anything to do with these works and the past they carry.

After paying the high liquidated damages, he didn't have much money on him. He didn't dare to tell others about it for fear that his family would worry about it.As for Jian Qiao, he will know when he comes here next time.

What would Jian Qiao think?Will you guess why he gave up and continued painting?Do you often think about what he is doing in a distant city?

Ever since he broke up with Jian Qiao yesterday because of the quarrel with him, Jian Qiao didn't send him a message or call him today, and even when he left the next day, Jian Qiao didn't say a word.

His former classmates sent him all the way to the airport, and he didn't care much about their reluctance to let him leave, not to mention that some of them seemed quite happy.But the only person he cared about didn't come.

He turned his head, glanced at everyone's faces, and then glanced at the pit entrance.

Leng Qing has always been the top one in the oil painting class. The more people stand at the top, the more resentment and hatred they will incur at the foot of the mountain.In addition, he doesn't like to talk, and treats everyone coldly, but he has a good relationship with Jian Qiao.But Jian Qiao didn't come to see him off today, which is undoubtedly even more ridiculous to other students.Fortunately, as soon as he left, gossiping behind his back, it had nothing to do with him.

He smiled lightly at everyone, did not speak, turned around and walked into the boarding gate without looking back.

The plane flew across the sky, and the city under the clouds could be vaguely seen through the window.Roads, cars, buildings, pastures... Everywhere there are all kinds of people living, and every place has its own unspeakable stories that are unique to outsiders.

Jian Qiao stood at the bottom of the terminal building and did not go upstairs for a long time, waiting for the time to pass, the plane took off on time, rose into the sky, and flew south.

Leng Qing left this city, a city where few people missed him, moved away from this small northern town, and went to the far south to go to school.Whether he joined the painting group again, whether he continued to paint oil paintings, whether he got a good opportunity, Jian Qiao didn't hear about it.

Until one day, he saw Leng Qing's Chinese painting works in a magazine, and he didn't know that Leng Qing had really left, leaving him, leaving oil painting, leaving their passionate ideals, leaving them laughing and carrying the drawing board Summer drinking ice water.

"Here is your entry form," Mr. Zhao from the oil painting class handed him a piece of paper, "You check the information, and I will hand it in."

Jian Qiao frowned slightly, and picked up the piece of paper.

National Youth Oil Painting Competition Registration Form.

His fingertips trembled, he put down the registration form, raised his head and asked, "Shouldn't Leng Qing participate?"

Teacher Zhao sighed: "It's not that you don't know that Leng Qing has quit our oil painting class. Before he left, he recommended you to participate in this competition."

What does it mean?His last gift?Or a handout?Why didn't he walk cleanly, why didn't he try to seize every opportunity in his favor?

"I don't want to." Jian Qiao said.

"In fact, it was not his intention to leave in a deserted manner, and he had no choice. I don't know why he didn't leave after the competition, but it's good, this is a good opportunity for you, and your level is no worse than him!" Mr. Zhao She persuaded him earnestly, but Jian Qiao could barely hear what he was saying.

It was only later that Jianqiao also figured it out. He not only had to seize this opportunity, but also used it very well. He wanted to let Leng Qing know that giving up this opportunity is tantamount to giving up something, and leaving the oil painting class is tantamount to losing something.For a long time after leaving desertedly, Jian Qiao could realize that everything he did was out of anger.

Including later when he stood on the stage where everyone was watching, received the gold trophy, faced all kinds of reporters and cameras, and said the phrase "I picked up this trophy", the audience was in an uproar.Jian Qiao's face covered by the mask was full of unwillingness and reluctance.

Some people said he was playing cool, some said he was really cool, but no one knew that someone else gave him the prize, let alone who Leng Qing was.

In the past, Leng Qing always said that Jian Qiao was talented and had a bright future, but not many people remembered that at that time, the younger generation could draw better than Jian Qiao, there was still Leng Qing, only Leng Qing.

Who is impulsive?Who is irresponsible for their own life?That time when Leng Qing stopped him from questioning him, he really wanted to ask back and ask why Leng Qing was there.

Jian Qiao thought, he would have kept his grudge for a long time, if...if he didn't know the truth later.