embrace the moon

My heart

is a city

a smallest city

no clutter market

not many inhabitants

desolate

desolate

my dream

is a city

a smallest city

no fortified palace

no sacred tombs

Quietly

Quietly

——Gu Cheng "I am a small city"

------

In the first year when I came to this southern city, I had no money, no power, and no one to rely on.

At that time, he found a part-time job, painting murals for a studio, and he could get a sum of money, not too much, but he could barely support himself, so he could no longer be so poor and desperate.

The beginning of the story happened on the night of the sudden power outage.

The owner of the studio is a middle-aged man with a thick face and sly eyebrows. He dresses like a thorny boss who collects rent from the society. No matter how he looks, he looks like the kind who hangs "Bodhisattva Blessing" and "God of Wealth" in his shop. People who made a fortune in the temple did not expect to be arty and painted murals in the style of the Western Renaissance.

He didn't want others to know these things, whether it was family members or former classmates, especially Jian Qiao.They are all people who have reached a certain level. They are proud and arrogant on weekdays. They look down on some jobs, and even if they have money, they don't want to earn it.But at that time he had no choice, he had no money, so he had to make money.

Hengrou walked over with a fat body, kicked the paint bucket behind him, and shouted: "I will see the finished product tomorrow! Don't tell me it's not easy to paint at night, just do things for others with money, Where are so many poor people, you think you are Gu Qianfan, I have to compliment you?!"

Leng Qing didn't speak, and silently painted with a brush.

The light is good during the day, and there are large glass walls in the shop, the light is suitable and you can see clearly.But it is not the case at night, the light is dim, and there is no natural light, but the lights in the room may have been in disrepair for a long time, flickering and ambiguous.

At that time, Leng Qing was still taking medicine. The more he took, the worse his ability to distinguish colors when the light was bad, sometimes even to the point where he could only see the world in black and white.

After throwing off her fat body and leaving with harsh words, Leng Qing had to finish painting overnight, and the next day was easy to deal with.In the middle of the night, he was really hungry, so he rubbed his stomach, but there was nothing to eat, so he had to hold on.At that time, he didn't even settle his bills, he had very little money on him, and even bought medicines, he would pick and choose, preferring to eat without money.

In the middle of the night, Leng Qing was so hungry that he had to sit down and sleep against the wall for a while.His eyelids were fighting endlessly, and his mind was full of confusion.

He may have only slept for half an hour, and that sleep was very sound. Although he was cold and hungry, but when he thought that he could pay the bill tomorrow, his heart that had been drooping finally calmed down a little.

When he woke up, he opened his eyes, and there was indeed darkness in front of him, a darkness where he couldn't see anything, only the empty room and his own thin figure as companions.

Leng Qing was a little scared, looked around, but didn't see a trace of color or light in the surrounding environment.He stood up against the wall and began to feel palpitations.

He frowned, touched the wall with his fingers, and the coolness in his palm penetrated into his heart, turning into a tingling pain.He struggled to catch his breath, trying to calm down with steady breathing, while slowly walking over to the switch.

Leng Qing pressed the switch, turned on and off the lights, repeated several times, but there was no response, and the lights in the room did not turn on.

The power went out, and the world fell into bottomless darkness.

Leng Qing rummaged through boxes and cabinets in the house, and found a small piece of an old and disfigured candle, which seemed to have been soaked in humid air, and he didn't know if it could be lit.He took out the lighter from his jacket pocket, pressed it, and a small flame rose in the darkness. The warm yellow light pierced the night, and the room was brightened immediately.

He fixed the candle on the table, turned around and picked up the paintbrush to continue painting. In the dim light, his eyes were in chaos, his head hurt and he was dizzy, and his heart was in endless panic. Even he himself didn't know the difference between colors. It's useless, and I don't know why I insist on it so paranoidly.

When the small piece of candle was burned out and the whole room suddenly fell into darkness again, he stood in front of the cold wall, holding the paintbrush, knocking his head powerlessly against the wall, and a drop of cold tear slid down his cheek.

"Look at these colors, you can't tell the difference between red, orange, yellow, and green. I'm better than you!" shouted a fat man, "I'm just perfunctory for the sake of business. I deserve this poor look!"

Leng Qing doesn't bother to argue. It's hard to find other people who can paint this mural to such an extent. However, some colors were indeed used wrongly last night. In such dim light, he can see clearly. what colour.When the boss said this, it was nothing more than wanting to pay for it.

"Get out!" He took out a wad of money in an envelope from the drawer of the counter, and threw it on him with a wave of his hand, "It's just such a rotten thing, I'm kind enough to give you money!"

Frowning coldly, he clenched his fingers tightly, his nails embedded in his palm, but he didn't seem to feel any pain.He didn't speak, and bent down to pick up the money.The wad of money was much thinner than he should have gotten, but he was at fault first, so he had to swallow his anger and turn around and walk out of the store.

Not long after walking outside, the phone rang along with the cool wind blowing.Leng Qing took out her mobile phone from her coat pocket, glanced at the screen, and connected it.

"Xiao Qing, how are you doing over there?" A kind woman's voice came from the receiver, "If you are not used to being there, I'll come and see you in a few days, I'm going on vacation this month, I don't know what to do when you leave."

"...Mom," said Lengqing softly, "don't worry, and don't have to run so far to see me, I'm fine."

"Mom doesn't take the trouble, you kid, you're not happy anymore." The woman laughed and scolded him.

Leng Qing stopped and stood by the river, looking at the river flowing in front of him.In summer and autumn, the river swelled and flowed recklessly, rushing from one end where it didn't know how far it came to the other end where it didn't know where it would go.

His left hand was in the coat pocket, gently stroking the envelope with his fingertips, holding the wad of pitifully small money inside.

"Everything is fine with me. I still received my salary for painting today. Don't worry, and don't send money to my card anymore. Keep it for yourself," Leng Qing said.

"Stupid child, of course the mother earns money to spend on her son. How is your health recently? Have you taken your medicine properly?"

"I'm fine, and I've taken less medicine. Don't worry, take care of yourself." She replied coldly, burying all the truth in her words.

"You must take the medicine, don't worry about other problems. With your temperament, you always report good news and not bad news..."

What mother was still saying, Leng Qing couldn't hear clearly anymore. He stared at the river in front of him, desperately trying to see something worth watching silently, but he couldn't see anything.Like his life, he tried desperately to find the right wonderful way to live it, but couldn't find it.

After hanging up the phone, Lengqing remained in a daze for a long time, and didn't think about anything else, after all, nothing was enough to make him happy.

He hesitated for a while, picked up his phone, found Jian Qiao's phone number in the contact list, and dialed it.

After the beeping busy tone, the phone was dialed, and the bell rang, and the faint music played lightly, as peaceful and peaceful as a pool of lake water, the wind was light and the water was soft, soft and delicate, as if he had never been from Jianqiao. The gentle comfort you get.

The music faded away quietly, a mechanical female voice sounded, but no one answered the phone.

The little bit of courage that he had managed to accumulate with all his strength collapsed at this moment, and his heart fell suddenly.

He took out the cigarette case from his coat pocket, took out the last cigarette, lowered his head and lit it with a lighter.

The fire in his hand was flickering and flickering, and the smoke was lingering around his fingertips. He took a sip, and the smell of the smoke penetrated into the depths along with his teeth, numb the senses that were tightly wrapped in wind and dust.

In this strange and indifferent city, he lives like an isolated island where no one sets foot.Later, he did some errands for others, and he was a down-and-out wild dog who was not appreciated and ridiculed several times. He should have expected that he, who was so proud before, would be at a loss in the face of traffic and traffic. In the big city, I can't find an inch of foothold.

Until one day, he was sketching in Qingshan, sitting alone in the grass by the roadside, painting silently without saying a word.

An old man came over. This man was dressed like an old Taoist priest practicing Tai Chi. He had a white beard and looked very kind.

He stopped behind Leng Qing, looked at his drawing board carefully, stroked his beard, and laughed carefreely: "Young man, the drawing is not bad. Who are you from?"

Leng Qing was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at him: "Hi, I don't have a teacher right now."

"You paint so well, but you don't have a teacher?" The old man was very surprised, "Find a master of traditional Chinese painting, don't let your talent be buried!"

Leng Qing smiled, turned his head away, and didn't speak.

The old man smiled, shook his head, and left with his hands behind his back.

This old man doesn't look like a serious person, but rather like an idler who spends his time doing nothing in the shade.

Later, I often met this old man in Qingshan when I was sketching in a deserted environment. Every time the old man saw him, he would stop with great interest, watch him carefully, and occasionally say a few opinions and suggestions, and he was quite good. It makes sense, and it can be regarded as establishing a little prestige in Leng Qing's heart.

"Have you thought it over clearly, you really don't plan to paint Chinese paintings?" the old man asked.

Leng Qing hesitated for a moment, but still shook his head, and finally told the truth: "Actually, I have color weakness, and it may become more and more serious in the future, maybe..."

He paused, and every time he thought of this, his heart was still a little unwilling and turbulent. He thought he could treat it normally and accept everything, but he couldn't let it go.

"Maybe I won't paint in the future." Leng Qing said.

The old man looked at him, patted him on the shoulder, and laughed: "Little young man, deaf people can still make brilliant achievements, so what is color weakness? Color blindness is fine, and blindness is fine."

Looking at him coldly, he blinked blankly.

"Come with me, I'll teach you how to paint ink." The old man also looked at him intently, with soft eyes, and said, "I'm Gu Qianfan."

So in this city with boundless mountains and rivers and high-rise buildings, Leng Qing found a place to stay.He followed Gu Qianfan to the Painting Boat Hall, the place where his dream started again.

He put down the oil paint and scraper, picked up ink and rice paper.Because he learned painting early, Gu Qianfan asked the other children to call him Senior Brother.There is also a kid who doesn't paint in the painting boat hall, who is the grandson of Gu Qianfan, who hangs out with everyone all day long.Compared with the indifferent faces of the previous oil painting class, these people were a little too enthusiastic.

"Brother Lengqing, you used to be an oil painter?" There was a boy named Wang Yuanqi, who seemed to have not yet entered high school, and he kept talking endlessly, asking questions one after another, "You are so tall! Oh, yes , I heard that Master picked you up on the mountain? Tell me the details!"

Desolate and silent, lowered his head and washed his pen.

"Brother, Master asked me to be in your group." There was a boy named Chu Yang, who was the same age as Wang Yuanqi, cute and well-behaved, and spoke politely and naturally, "Do you want a drink of water? By the way, pour you a glass."

Leng Qing continued to wash his pen, shaking his head.

"Zhao Mishan, you fool!" There was an earth-shattering roar from the yard, and it was the boss Yi Xianghan who was mad again, "Bah! Straight man of steel!"

"Don't pay attention to him, don't pay attention to him," came a soft and light female voice, her laughter was as crisp as a silver bell, mixed with the smell of summer, it was Wen Zhu, "Senior sister, don't be as knowledgeable as him."

"You women are troublesome," said the straight man who always speaks bluntly and doesn't know how to expose everything. Zhao Mishan is about the same age as Lengqing, "This is not right and that is not right, the independent constitution should be written by you. "

The kitchen door was suddenly slammed open, and a head poked out from the crack of the door. The boy who was always busy with various trivial matters was Gu Yu, the grandson of Gu Qianfan. He rushed outside and shouted: "Grandpa! Come and see The cabbage bought by your precious elder sister is like a beggar!"

"What's the matter? How does it look like a beggar?!" Yi Xianghan refused to accept it, and gave up the thrilling encounter with Zhao Mishan's needle-pointed wheat, and instead rushed to the kitchen, "Gu Xiaobao, you know how to sue! Master, look at him—"

Leng Qing put down the dyeing pen, sighed softly, and took the pen to wash the water to change the water.

At first, he didn't adapt quickly. He just felt that this group of people was simple and noisy. There was always endless talk, there were always quarrels and fights one after another, and there was always a steady stream of pure happiness and small joys. .

He likes these people. Although they are noisy, they have a vigorous and positive vitality, which is what he lacks.

"Master will show you something!" Gu Qianfan walked into the yard with a smile, raised his arms and twirled around, "New trendy dynamic ballroom dance!"

"Oh—" There was a roar in the yard.Wang Yuanqi quickly turned over while leaning on the window frame, and shouted, "Master, I'll tell you!"

Gu Qianfan was different from what the media reported, and it was also different from what he imagined.Leng Qing thought that he must be an artist with a melancholy expression and a solemn posture, but he did not expect that he was an old man who rode a small electric donkey for a walk with his dog, and also liked to play cards with old men and dance with old ladies.

His life began again, in an eyes-opening way.Everything in the past is like dying yesterday; everything in the future is like being born today.He began to be more and more silent, speaking less and less, not too sad, and not smiling much, as if he had never been loved by the world, and had never been hurt by the world.