conspirator's love

Chapter 62

Dialect came out of the bar, and on the bustling streets of the city, she was in a trance for a moment, wondering where she should go.

Looking up at the sky, in the dark sky divided by high-rise buildings and bright neon lights, the stars are dimmed.

Originally, she could have blamed her, called her phone to yell at her, and wrote a cold letter, but there was only one sentence in her heart, it turns out that the lover is such a lonely thing, the initial loneliness is bearable, But ever since I fell in love with you and left you, I can't get used to that feeling of emptiness.

Once you know how comfortable it is when your heart is full, you can no longer bear the coldness after taking it away.

Fang Yan walked aimlessly, and she came here in a blink of an eye. She went upstairs, took out the key from her pocket to open the door, and turned on the light.

It's been a year, and she stepped into this room again. The last time she was homeless, she came here, but this time she was still homeless.After knowing that she had resigned, the parents could not express their disappointment in her other than being outraged.

Once again she made her choice without consulting them.

In the past year, looking at the mountains in the mountains, she saw despair. The continuous mountains are a kind of tangible imprisonment, which makes people dare not step out. Countless people are repeating the lives of their ancestors in the mountains. become desperate.

But there is another kind of imprisonment that is invisible. In the human heart, it is like a cage and shackles, imprisoning the human spirit, making you afraid of change, and you can only succumb to the already arranged path.

Dialect kicked off the shoes on his feet and lay down on the bed in the bedroom. As expected, Tian Qi hired someone to clean it every week as promised. The sheets smelled of clean washing powder.

She buried her head in the pillow, Mo Jiaxin was still so considerate, knowing that she would have nowhere to go, she even asked herself to come to her in the letter.Fang Yan smiled wryly, what a superfluous kind of tenderness, but he was greedy for this kind of tenderness, wanting a little more, a little more, spinelessly.

There was no smell of her on the sheets anymore.

Sadness, grievance, and resentment are like tides, which will come sooner or later, but will eventually recede. It washes away the heart of the dialect, leaving behind the emptiness after washing.

She turned her head to look at the alarm clock on the bedside. It was 7:10, a night without dreams, and the sadness that hung over her heart early in the morning was not unbearable.

She rubbed her forehead and stood up. There are too many things to do today. She has to report to the studio and find a new place to live. How can she have time to feel sorry for herself here.

As soon as Fang Yan appeared in the studio, a familiar figure jumped out, "My dear, you are here." Ding Dong, Fang Yan cried out in his heart, but felt that it was not good to call someone a nickname, but he couldn't remember her real name anyway. up.Tinker Bell was dressed as thinly as ever, with a pink suspender dress inside the sweater cape.

"When Datouqiang told me that you were coming, I couldn't believe it. How can you be a photography assistant? This job doesn't make much money. It's very hard, my dear." Ding Dong took dialect to himself Speaking freely, it solved the embarrassment of dialect.

Dialect looked down at her belly, her round belly was raised high, she was obviously four or five months pregnant, and she was able to give herself the impression of jumping out just now, how casual she was.

So Fang Yan stretched out his hand to support her, "Miss Boss, where is the Boss?"

Ding Dong patted her, but she was a little embarrassed, "What's your name, lady boss," he said, pointing to his belly, "I can't help you now, dear, please help Datouqiang with this job The room is his wish. He is inside, go, I will take you there."

In just over a year, the photographer Da Touqiang and his assistant Xiao Dingdang have tied the knot and are about to give birth to a son.

It’s interesting to say that Zhu Ziqiang, the photographer I met at Tian Qi Bar before, is a friend in the circle of friends in dialect. In the circle of friends, they like and comment on each other, and the communication is quite frequent.

Recently, Zhu Ziqiang wanted to set up his own company and recruit troops. Fang Yan recommended himself in a smooth manner.

Zhu Ziqiang didn't say much, but asked her a few questions, one is why do you want to do this job?How long do you think you can last?

Dialect asked himself the same question, why he suddenly wanted to be a photographer's assistant.Of course it was because she wanted to be a photographer.

Dialect felt that she had gone mad, she wanted to get closer to Mo Jiaxin in a certain part of her soul, this girl who hid behind the camera and looked at the world, how she thought, how she felt, how she became what she is today Because she wants to know this too much.

When he met her, Fang Yan felt that he was complete. When he left her, Fang Yan felt that he was missing. Becoming her, being as confident and unrestrained as her, will he be able to get back his lost soul?She can only find the answer by herself.

So she said with a smile: "The profession of photographer is very fascinating. I want to try it. I think I should be able to persist until I graduate."

The big head shook his big head, and looked at the dialect thoughtfully, "Profession can still be charming, this is the first time I've heard of it. But to be my assistant, you don't have to be my apprentice. This profession requires understanding and hardship. .Come to work on Monday.”

The studio is not big, there are only two rooms in total, the outer room is the reception room, where the fee-based retouching and selection of films are negotiated, and the inner room is the studio, where Datouqiang is watching the workers install the scenery.

"Teacher Zhu!" Fang Yan greeted him.

Seeing Fang Yan coming in, he nodded and said, "Ding Dong, you can teach her, file first, and then design a promotional page." After that, he said to Dialect: "We are two and a half people now, anyway, we just have something to do. , do everything."

When we met last time, I thought this person was glib, and he was practical and ruthless when he really did his job, without any unnecessary nonsense.

After half a year, when the proprietress finally couldn't jump up anymore, the studio recruited two more people.As a veteran of the company, the boss of Datouqiang really didn’t treat the dialect as an outsider. He taught her how to set up lights and sets, including how to mobilize the emotions of the subjects, and gradually handed over some work of retouching pictures to her.

A year later, Datouqiang began to let Fangyan try to take a few shots after the serious shooting task was completed, and then told her what the problem was to the computer. Fangyan felt more and more that he was following the right person, and shouted at each teacher Sincerely, my hands and feet became more agile, and I tried my best to do what I could, and gradually became the last person to leave the studio every day.

Physical exhaustion numbs her spirit very well. Although it was because of that person at first, but as she worked slowly, Fang Yan really began to like this industry that uses light and shadow to make magic.

She rented a small single room near the studio with a meager salary, just for sleeping, which was enough.

Maybe it's because the elders have figured out the truth of "the children are not allowed to stay when they are old", and recently they have stopped clamoring for Dialect to move back home, and let her go with the attitude of "out of sight, out of mind".

There are no Saturdays or Sundays in this job, and all three meals are settled in the studio. When she returns home exhausted, she often climbs into bed and falls asleep. Occasionally, when she takes a day off, she takes a camera and goes out on the street. Going around and taking pictures, taking pictures of couples hugging, girlfriends wearing the same clothes, old men and old ladies holding hands, pigeons circling in the sky, godson crying face, disgusted face Mom, take a picture of the pet dog jumping into the pool on the fountain square.

She turned her head to look at the cafe with floor-to-ceiling windows, where she met the grown-up Mo Jiaxin two years ago.

Dialect walked in and sat down at the same window seat, the view was still wide and the sun was still shining.She pulled out her computer to edit the picture.As soon as he connected to the wifi, he jumped out, "Beauty, I want to see you."

"It's fine, why do you want to see me suddenly, you will scare me like this." Fang Yan made a surprised expression.

"We've known each other for so long, and I haven't seen you. I'm going out of town next month. If you don't see me again, you won't have a chance!" Quejin Shaoliang insisted.

In the past two years, the two have basically insisted on the communication frequency of singing once a week. Although the chat time is not long each time, they have also formed a tacit understanding, sharing some inhuman concerns with each other, occasionally making fun of each other, and occasionally cheering each other up.

Although I have never met, I am closer than many people around me.

Dialect is actually a little afraid that this kind of tacit understanding that has been cultivated for a long time will disappear because of the meeting. Didn't Hannibal also say in "The Silence of the Lambs" that people will desire what he sees.

She's not afraid of having other thoughts about herself, but the relationship between the two is just based on an illusory network. Once it falls into reality, many things will change, and they will have more expectations for each other Or simply disappointed.For example, he found that he was too ordinary to be called a beautiful woman.

"You can see me if you want, but I told you, I'm not a beauty at all."

"Well, it's conceivable that you weigh more than 200 kilograms and wear glasses with thick bottle bottoms?"

"That's not it."

"Ann, it doesn't matter if you are a dinosaur. I am not a handsome guy, and I have nothing to do with Gao Fu Shuai. You should not have any expectations."

"So why do you want to meet?" Fang Yan laughed.

"You guy, didn't I tell you that I'm going to another place?" The other party directly sent a dynamic light wave, trying to beat her into a monster.

"It doesn't matter, anyway, it won't be any different from now." Dialect sent back a Kameha qigong.

"I have known you for 6 years, and I don't even know if you are round or square."

"Are you sure you know me, not the bucket or the desk? Because I am neither round nor square." Dialect laughed.

The other party rolled his eyes.

"Okay, see you, where are you? White roses or Entertainment Weekly?" Dialect continued to tease him.

Quejin Shaoliang didn't bother, and asked directly: "When will you rest next week?"

"Wednesday."

"Then at the art gallery on Wednesday afternoon, there is an oil painting called "Dream", which shows a girl riding a unicorn. Let's see you under the painting."

Dialect thought this agreement was novel and interesting, and asked again: "But how do I know who is you?"

"I'll take Entertainment Weekly, you take White Rose."

"Forget it, you take Entertainment Weekly, and I'll bring a photo album."

"Your work?" Quejin Shaoliang asked.

"Well, my work."

"Okay, it's a deal."

"A four-horse is hard to chase." Dialect said after thinking about it, "Should I say see you or leave? Why does it feel neither fish nor fowl?"

"That's right. Netizens are promoted to official friends. I value this interview very much."

"It's even weirder if you explain it that way."

"Stop talking nonsense! 88!"

Dialect made a closed expression, waved his hand and stepped back.