Ruyizhai

Wu Xingchen also sat down, and sat on both ends of the sofa with the writer, sitting in a stiff posture, he said: "No, let's talk about why Jack didn't call the police first."

The writer nodded, looked at Wu Xingchen, and said: "Jack hopes to chat with you. You are someone who has been to a war camp. He is very curious about such people, but he has no way of contacting them."

Wu Xingchen remembered something and said, "Jack is very interested in war." He asked, "Is he writing a new book?"

The writer said: "In Simon Lord's war stories, human beings are forced to take up arms and participate in wars, but," he paused, and asked Wu Xingchen, "do you know what the antonym of forced is?"

Wu Xingchen fell into deep thought, and the writer said, "It's voluntary, it's obedience."

Wu Xingchen asked him: "Where did you learn this? Was it taught in the academy?"

Although the vocabulary of the prospective writers far exceeds that of ordinary new humans, Wu Xingchen is not sure that the academy will teach these writers the antonym of "forced". Just hearing the word "forced" makes people uneasy. The vocabulary of new humans is so calm and calm. It is rare for people to hear it and see it.

The writer said: "This is what Jack learned from Zhu Nanxi's diary."

Wu Xingchen rubbed his fingers, and murmured: "That diary, whether it's the original version, the transcript, or the printed version, has been destroyed..." He looked at the writer, and asked him, "Have you seen the diary with me last time?" The person I came with? His name is Ruyizhai, Jack should remember him, the owner of the antique shop."

The writer's eyes narrowed, revealing a natural smile, Wu Xingchen seemed to be able to see the mechanical lower bones moving stiffly under his skin.After a while, the writer said, "Oh, Jack remembers."

Wu Xingchen said: "Are you reading Jack's memory just now? Because the consciousness in your body is not your own consciousness, so... how should I put it... there is a delay?"

The writer's eyes were far away, and fell behind Wu Xingchen, Wu Xingchen turned around and looked, there was nothing behind him except the bookshelf and the books on the shelves.The writer stood up, walked to the bookshelf behind Wu Xingchen, and put his hands behind his back.There was a small window on one side of the bookshelf, and the writer looked out of the window: "Jack remembered that he was standing on the terrace, his hair was long, he was wearing white clothes, he was very young, and Jack, he was getting old, he Little by little, his life was ignited into ashes. He was smoking, which made Jack feel terrified. The weak fire was burning as if it was his life. Jack wanted to kiss the youthful lips, but he dared not approach him. Jack suspects he's a youthful phantom that disappears at the touch of a finger."

The writer turned slightly, looked at Wu Xingchen, and said, "You're right, there will be some delays, so Jack hasn't seen guests for a long time, just writing, handing in, continuing to write, continuing to deliver."

Wu Xingchen thought of a question: "Is Jack immortal now? As long as the mechanical bodies are maintained regularly, they can survive for a long time. This 'long time' length of time is equivalent to immortality in the concept of new humans."

He also thought of a question, eager to know the answer, so he asked quickly: "You said that you have a delay in reading memory, is it related to the structure of your mechanical brain? Using the technology of mechanical body to make the brain Do mature human brains also have all kinds of problems when reading memories?"

The writer was a little surprised, and said: "Mechanical bodies read memories, but humans are just memories."

Wu Xingchen explained: "Yes, yes, it's just a different way of saying it," but then he realized the weirdness, "No, you should not have the consciousness of a mechanical body, you should use Jack completely, use Thinking in the way of new human beings, your consciousness should be filled with the concept of new human beings, so is this a writer's view on human reading memory? You use the term 'human memory'."

The writer reiterated: "Human beings are just memories. Human beings look back on memory, like swimming in the sea. They keep swimming forward and forward. When he wants to take another look at a piece of coral reef on the bottom of the sea that he has seen before, he turns and sometimes he finds that coral reef, and sometimes he finds it, and sometimes he finds nothing, and sometimes he finds not the coral reef he's ever seen, and sometimes he knows it, and sometimes he doesn't, and all his life he doesn't know, Sometimes it's ten years, 20 years before he realizes it's not the coral reef he was thinking about."

"It's the relationship between humans and memory."

Wu Xingchen shook his head and said: "But as we all know, at least from childhood, as far as I know, memory is read, memory is a book, if you want to find a coral reef, just turn to the catalog page, locate the If you look at a coral reef, you're sure to find the one you've seen before."

Wu Xingchen said again: "Your metaphor is very romantic, maybe because you are a writer." He shivered, "Romantic is also an uneasy word."

The writer laughed: "A writer should not be romantic, a writer should be insecure, a writer should be intimidated by everything, you think a writer is romantic, maybe because you and a writer are intimidated by the same things, after all romance is having someone with you, you are not alone The feeling of being alone."

The writer added: "About the relationship between human beings and memories, that's what Jack learned from Zhu Nanxi's diary."

Wu Xingchen was suddenly relieved: "No wonder, that is a diary from hundreds of years ago. The relationship between human beings and memory has long been different from that of Zhu Nanxi. They sound like they are playing hide-and-seek with memory, which is too inconvenient , It affects the efficiency of work and life too much."

The writer turned around, walked to Wu Xingchen's side, picked up the blue-covered book he had put on the sofa, and said, "You are a member of the museum's identification department."

"It used to be..." Wu Xingchen helplessly corrected the writer.

"It used to be..." the author smiled, and put the blue-covered book back on the shelf. "I must have read many ancient books, but it seems that I have never been influenced by the way of thinking of the predecessors, and still maintain the way of thinking of new humans."

Wu Xingchen said: "That's just my work, my research, what I need to do is to understand, not to understand."

The author said: "I heard that people who work in museums, people who study history, and some evolutionary scientists have a common characteristic of toughness of character. In layman's terms, they admit death."

Wu Xingchen said: "You can put it this way." Now he has relaxed a lot, the writer obviously has no intention of calling the police to deal with him, and there are only two of them in the room, he said: "Actually, I came to ask about genres Yes, I would like to ask if you have heard of a detective, if so, what is the purpose of the detective?"

The writer stood in front of the bookshelf, thoughtful, and asked Wu Xingchen: "What do you want to ask is the purpose of creation, the purpose of publishing, or the purpose of readers?"

Wu Xingchen blinked his eyes. He didn't expect that the purpose could be divided into so many types. He was speechless for a while, and the writer said: "Detective, Zhu Nanxi likes to read it very much. She said it is good to pass the time. Maybe this is the purpose of the readers. The writer paused for a while, looked down at the ground, and then continued, "But in the eyes of Junanxi and Simon Lord, they are all used to pass the time." He raised his head, "Jack remembered, They discussed detectives with Lee Myung-sae."

Wu Xingchen listened intently.The writer talked eloquently: "Li Mingxi believes that everything can be classified as a detective. Readers observe every character in the writer's description, and they can't help but speculate and reason about each character's experience. The key elements of the detective, why does the murderer kill? What kind of past does he have? What is his motive? Is it related to his growth environment? Or is he inherently evil? Are there really inherently evil people? He and the victim are the same What's the relationship? Questions, piecing together other people's lives, peeking at other people's secrets, that's what detectives are all about. However, Simon Lord pointed out that the creators of detectives usually avoid falling into the embarrassing situation of being guessed by readers. Too much focus on misleading the reader, showing off the core tricks..."

"The core trick?" Wu Xingchen couldn't understand.

"That is the method of committing the crime. Take a detective involved in a murder case as an example," the writer raised an index finger, "90.00% of the detectives are involved in a murder case, and the core trick refers to the murderer's modus operandi, or the method of revealing the modus operandi." .”

"I've heard a term called narrative trickery."

"Yes, there is such a saying." The writer analyzed, "If you encounter a No. 1 narrative detective, you have to be careful that No. 1's 'I' is a schizophrenic, you have to Be careful that everything that 'I' knows may be an illusion, a fantasy of 'I'." Wu Xingchen heard a half-knowledge, and said: "So, 'I' is a very deceptive pronoun?"

The writer nodded: "That's right, Jack believes that when people use 'I' to refer to themselves, they have lost a part of themselves, which includes a sense of distance from the soul and the objectivity created by this sense of distance , but Jack also believes that it is the loss of this part that makes a human being."

The writer raised his eyes slightly: "Just like the great writer Simon Lord is just an image created by the publisher, his own way of thinking has nothing to do with him, he sold his own for money and fame The soul, the "I" in him is under the guise of the author's personal experience, but that is not the real him, but it is also a more real him, a real, vulgar, fame-seeking literary worker."

The writer's eyes returned to Wu Xingchen: "How is it, has Jack answered your doubts?"

"Then what is the purpose of the publisher?"

"Publish the detective? Of course it's because of the money." The writer laughed heartily.

"What is the purpose of creation?"

"Of course it's also for money!" The writer patted Wu Xingchen's shoulder heavily, "It's a very happy thing that words can be converted into money."

The writer added: "However, there is also the creative purpose of making fun of fooling readers."

"It seems that detectives are different from other types. Its purpose is not clear, but mixed." Wu Xingchen scratched the back of his head, "It's a bit chaotic."

That's really suitable for Ruyizhai, after all, he is a cloud of turbidity between heaven and earth, he should be chaotic, muddled, and cloudy, but he always wears white clothes, black hair, and black and white eyes, which makes people completely confused. Forgot his "turbidity".

The writer said at this time: "No, all purposiveness is mixed and chaotic."

He smiled: "Simon Lord is always cursing the publisher, cursing the readers, cursing himself while writing, his purpose is too chaotic, money, the desire to talk, as long as you read through him, it is not difficult to find , Simon Lord's war-loving mechanical body has the shadow of Simon, the creator is always difficult to separate himself, 'I' can't satisfy his desire to confide, so he lets other characters confide, so to speak His is also a detective, Simon buried the secret, and Jack was the reader who spied on him and tried to decipher it."

Wu Xingchen bent down slightly, covered his face with his hands, and stared straight ahead: "Ruyi Zhai always said that he was in a detective book, so what are people reading this book trying to spy on, and what secrets do they want to unlock?"

"Did he kill someone?"

"No..." Wu Xingchen said.

The writer asked again: "Is he killed?"

"No...he's missing." Wu Xingchen said, "I thought that if I figured out what a detective is, I would be able to find some new clues about his disappearance."

"Not a little inspired?"

"Perhaps...he doesn't want to be peeped into the secrets by readers anymore, so he hid himself." Wu Xingchen said.

The writer smiled: "If he lives in a book, where can he hide? In the cracks of the book? Escape from Chapter 1 of the book, the preface and the table of contents of the book?"

Wu Xingchen also laughed, and he asked the writer: "What is Jack writing?"

Writer Says: "The Instructions for Jack Montgomery."

"Instructions? No?" Wu Xingchen was quite surprised.

The writer said: "Is there any difference between the manual and the manual?"

Wu Xingchen said: "But Jack is a biographer."

"The instruction manual can be used to check the damage and damage of the machine, and anything can be used to check the damage and damage of a person."

Wu Xingchen massaged his temples with a headache: "I'm a little confused again."

The writer asked Wu Xingchen: "Do you want to take a break?"

Wu Xingchen said: "I won't bother you anymore." He got up.The writer asked him, "Did Jack answer your question?"

Wu Xingchen thought for a while, then stretched out his hand, the writer also extended his hand, the two shook hands, Wu Xingchen said: "I don't know...but maybe I should go to his past to see, for example, the place where he was born, if If I can find that place."

The writer smiled and led Wu Xingchen out, Wu Xingchen asked him suddenly: "Why did Jack take off Jack's skin when he was writing?"

The writer laughed: "The authorities have cleared the fans of bystanders."

Wu Xingchen looked the writer up and down: "So...you have a mechanical consciousness?"

The writer shook his head: "Of course not. There is only Jack's consciousness in this body. How can I explain it? He must use the ritual of taking off his skin to complete a kind of detachment, so as to examine Jack Montgomery from a third-person perspective and create his own. manual."

Wu Xingchen said, "It's like an epiphany that breaks away from form?"

The writer shook his head again, and the two walked on the stairs. Going down, he said: "Jack is not pursuing epiphany, he may also be pursuing a detective book."

"Oh?"

"He wants to solve his puzzle."

Walking downstairs to the study room, the writer said to Wu Xingchen, "I hope you can solve the puzzle about Ruyizhai."

Wu Xingchen smiled: "I only hope that the moment when the puzzle is solved, Ruyizhai is not a hallucination of mine."

"Jack saw him too," the writer said.

"Jack said it was a phantom of youth."

"To Jack he may be a phantom, but to you he may be real."

Wu Xingchen sighed, and started to have a headache again: "I have encountered too many 'maybes' in these 24 hours."

The writer said: "Perhaps this is the true meaning of life."

Wu Xingchen looked at the writer, and he walked back up the stairs. For some reason, the creative font on the wall beside him seemed to read: Writing eternal confusion!

Wu Xingchen rubbed his eyes, waved goodbye to the writer, left the study, and left No. 25 Broadway.But the "eternal confusion" is still lingering in his heart, and that's what the slogan and the exclamation point have. They complement each other to imprint "confusion" and "eternity" in his brain.

Wu Xingchen didn't turn on the special car mode of the car, but just drove casually on the road. While waiting for a traffic light at a crossroad, he caught a glimpse of a light box advertisement in a bar by the side of the road: a silver saw blade was hanging on the two sides of "Silver Saw". Above a creative font, the saw blade cuts the word "saw".

He had seen this sign on the matchbox of Ruyizhai.