This star is from the earth

Xia Yuan nodded, took out the ballpoint pen sandwiched between the notebooks, and started the interview.

Ms. Wang first turned against the guest and asked, "Do you like Wang Jingshu's performance?"

Xia Yuan was stunned for a moment, raised one corner of his mouth, his expression seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then he said decently: "Part of it, that one bumped into it made me understand a lot of things."

Then Xia Yuan didn't let the topic continue, flipped through the notebook, and said, "Then let's start from the beginning?"

"Why not turn it upside down," Ms. Wang leaned back slightly, her mouth raised, "Do you know that Wang Jingshu is a master at teasing?"

Xia Yuan in the audience raised his eyebrows, and said with a smile: "Why don't we save some effort, there are more important things than teasing me. Besides, your habit of addressing yourself in the third person is quite difficult for people to adapt to."

Xia Yuan picked up the conversation and asked, "What kind of books do you usually read?"

Ms. Wang waved her hand and said, "Wang Jingshu doesn't need to study. Wang Jingshu lives in vibration and is essentially supersensory."

Xia Yuan stretched out a hand, signaled to stop, and said, "Let's put aside the super sense for now, what is the vibration you are talking about?"

Ms. Wang said: "How can I describe the vibration to you in vulgar language?"

Xia Yuan restrained his smile a little, but remained polite, and said, "I don't know, can you try to describe it?"

"I'm an artist, I don't have to explain everything!"

"Then I'll write [she vibrates for a living and doesn't know why]."

Ms. Wang frowned: "Wang Jingshu started to dislike this interview, and Wang Jingshu felt your hostility."

Xia Yuan smiled: "So this is vibration?"

Ms. Wang leaned forward, fixed her eyes on Xia Yuan, and said, "This is over, let's talk about my mother's boyfriend abusing me."

"No, I just want to know what vibration is"

Ms. Wang sighed heavily, rolled her eyes, pondered for a while, and said, "It's my radar to find out about this world."

Xia Yuan wrote in his notebook and continued to ask without raising his head, "Radar, what do you mean?"

Ms. Wang raised her hands to her chest, made a [cross] gesture, and said: "You are a very annoying person. Listen to me, our interview started very badly. Wang Jingshu attaches great importance to this interview with your magazine. , You have a lot of readers in your magazine, but you are prejudiced against me. Why don't you let Wang Jingshu talk about her fiancé? The fiancé is a very good conceptual artist. He pastes a basketball with colored paper, a genius idea..."

Xia Yuan interrupted: "Ms. Wang, first of all, what you said is meaningless. Secondly, what I have heard now is all nonsense that cannot be published. If you think you can fool me, say something [I am Artists, you don’t have to explain], then you’re wrong. Our magazine has a strict and educated readership, they don’t want to be fooled, and I work for this group of people.”

Xia Yuan stared straight at Ms. Wang.

Ms. Wang stood up and said angrily: "Then why don't you let me talk about my bumpy, painful and indispensable artist path!"

She no longer uses the third person.

Xia Yuan's expression was very speechless: "Who is it indispensable to? Sigh... Ms. Wang, what exactly is vibration."

Ms. Wang stared blankly at Xia Yuan, shedding tears first: "I don't know what vibration is, I don't know!"

Xia Yuan pointed to the notebook with a pen, and said impatiently: "You don't know?"

"I don't know! Maybe it's a sign of bullshit."

"that's right."

Ms. Wang cried even harder: "I want to talk to your leader... let her change to a better reporter."

Xia Yuan sneered: "A suggestion, I hope you can talk to my leader for a longer time, she is old, and you are too stupid to be cured, you can make her happy."

Hearing this, Han Jue who was sitting on the side finally couldn't help laughing.

He had witnessed a case where a mean reporter exposed a mystifying artist.

From the very aura of the artist at the beginning to the embarrassment at the end, Han Jue even felt that this process was a kind of artistic performance.

Han Jue's smile instantly attracted the eyes of the two ladies. The audience stared at Han Jue expressionlessly, while the audience on the stage glared fiercely at Han Jue.

Han Jue nodded to them with his bag in his hand, and while moving towards the intersection, he stretched out his hand to signal them to continue, to continue.

Then he ran away in a flash.

Han Jue ran out of the street, stopped, and drank the little water left. Checking the time, it was already 4:24 in the afternoon.

It was still bright, but not so hot.

[It's almost time to go home. 】

Han Jue turned his head and looked around, looking for a way out of the park, only to find that there was a tattoo shop in front of him.

The signboard of the tattoo shop is very clean, only black and white, the font is a designed black font, and the rest of the signboard is mostly left blank.

oh? The style of this store seems to be quite high, so it is better to hit the day than to choose a date. Han Jue intends to solve the problems left over from the predecessor's history today.

Han Jue walked in.

Han Jue's tattoos are entirely out of pragmatism. If you ask him why he wants to get a tattoo, he can't tell. He can't tell others that there used to be more than one scar in this place, right?

When Han Jue entered the room, he was really surprised when he saw the tattoo artist. In addition to the tattoos on her body that prove that she is linked to the profession of "tattoo artist", she is thin and thin, with a soft voice, and she looks like a high school student, the kind who studies well. It doesn't fit Han Jue's image of a muscular man with short hair, or a down-and-out male artist with loose clothes, thin body and long hair.

"Do you have a pattern in mind?" the tattoo artist asked Han Jue softly.

Han Jue didn't think about what to write before coming here, so he shook his head.

"Where is the text?" The tattoo artist turned around to search for something.

"Wrist," Han Jue said, "the inside of the forearm."

The tattoo artist nodded and brought a picture album. Most of the patterns inside are flat graphics on paper, which are relatively small and uncomplicated, and are suitable for writing on the wrist. There are also photos that have been written on other people's bodies in the album, which are also for reference.

Han Jue flipped through it for a while, and found that either the shape of the pattern couldn't cover the scar, or the pattern was too ugly, which he disliked.

Han Jue closed the album and thought about what to write.

[Girlfriend's name plus the appearance of a white dog? No, no, those who don’t know think the name on the side is the name of a dog. 】

[Write a sentence? What to write? Chinese English Latin? ...]

[If it was his predecessor, what would he want to write? 】

[Writing is for a lifetime, what will follow me for the rest of my life? 】

Han Jue thought about it, and his thoughts drifted to the past.

…………………………………

Han Jue and his girlfriend were sitting on the sofa in the apartment, each holding a book on one side and reading.

The atmosphere was quiet, and Dabai was sleeping under the sofa. It was very cold in winter, and they would rub their feet on Dabai's belly to keep warm.

His girlfriend suddenly tapped his leg with her foot and said, "Hey, listen, this sentence is quite interesting."

Han Jue looked at the book and asked, "What?"

The girlfriend cleared her throat and read slowly: "The past doesn't inspire us—but it still wants to say something. The crow may know more about the dirt of history than we do."

Han Jue looked up at his girlfriend, who was holding a copy of "Thomas Wentzlowa's Selected Poems" with bright eyes, expecting his reaction.

"It's not bad, it feels quite cold." Han Jue raised his head, tasted the product carefully, and nodded in affirmation.

"Right, right~" His girlfriend laughed.

Han Jue also laughed.

…………………………………

"Just tattoo a crow, no, a few crows, the kind that perch on the branches." Han Jue said to the tattoo artist with a smile.

The tattoo artist nodded. She keenly felt that although the man in front of her was smiling softly and with a sense of happiness, that smile was like a fragile object that would break at the touch of a finger.

[I think of my ex-girlfriend. 】she thinks.

The tattoo artist took a sketchbook and drew a conceptual sketch on the paper, drawing the pattern in her mind.

"Like this? How about these?"

"Let's add another one on top, it will fly."

The final modified pattern is: a few crows stand on the bare branches with complicated lines, and the branches cut the space on the skin, as if to trap them. At the top of the tree, there is a crow flying up the forearm. From a distance, those crows standing on the branches look like few leaves left.

The price of the tattoo is within Han Jue's acceptable range. Although he won't be able to eat properly for a while, he should just go eat for a while.

Han Jue showed his arm to the tattoo artist.

The tattoo artist looked at the scars without saying anything, and started working as usual, looking very professional.

Han Jue looked at the scars with different colors from the surrounding ones, and the slight pain, one after another, Han Jue actually liked it a little.

I like this kind of behavior that requires pain to obtain beauty.

The tattoo took about 2 hours, and after the end, the branches on the scar looked quite three-dimensional. Han Jue was very satisfied, and said that he would look for her next time he wanted a tattoo.

After Han Jue listened to the tattoo artist's warning about precautions, when he came out, the sun was about to go down.

Han Jue plans to go home and eat nearby noodles that are cheap and plentiful. Covering those scars also seemed to cover something in Han Jue's heart, and Han Jue became more relaxed when walking.

At dusk, the sun that has been cooking for a day finally matures, red and round, shining on the clouds and Han Jue far away.

————

On the other side of Shanghai, Guan Yi, who was waiting in the office for Han Jue to send a message to inform the audition situation, had been waiting for almost a day, because he couldn't wait, so he took the initiative to call Han Jue. He heard the silent cell phone in the bag.

Guan Yi took the phone from his ear.

Guan Yi held the phone, frowning and thinking.

【eliminated? Still advanced? 】

Guan Yi thought for a while, then stood up, packed his things quickly, left the office, and started the car.

The direction the car was heading was exactly the direction to Han Jue's home.

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