Red door

Chapter 11

Luo Ye heard a thunder that shook the sea and mountains.He bound the prepared manuscripts into a book and pushed them to the corner of the table. A pair of slender hands that belonged to young people held the manuscripts into his arms. Luo Ye raised his eyes, and it turned out to be He Yuan.

"A gift for me?"

"Yes, it was written specifically to please you."

A pale smile appeared on his face, looking extremely tired.He Yuan turned on another desk lamp, and flipped through the manuscript amidst thunder and lightning: "Oh, it's a detective novel?"

"That page is for the editor."

He Yuan smiled and said, "You have to write me a page too."

Luo Ye was also unambiguous, and found a piece of Daolin paper of the same size, wrote it with a dip pen, and handed it to him.He Yuan looked at the wet ink, and said softly, "Respect Muse."

"Respect Muse." Luo Ye repeated, his world-weary pretty face was softened by love, "Respect you."

He Yuan glanced at him cunningly, very proud.

The two comprehended, each bowed their heads to do their own things, and could hear the sound of paper flipping from time to time.In the silence of the heavy rain as white noise, He Yuan yawned shallowly.

"You look more tired than me."

"Because it's exhausting to deal with my father."

Luo Ye looked up: "I thought that was something Wen Ji would do."

DID is the abbreviation of Dissociation of Personality. According to the limited information that Luo Ye can find, in the case, after the alternation of two personalities, one personality will not retain the memory of the other personality, and He Yuan is obviously different from Wen Ji.

"Wen Ji is struggling with one thing, and if it is not necessary, he doesn't like my father."

"What is he struggling with?"

He Yuan showed an indescribably weird expression, and said, "Wen Ji is thinking about how to kill pigs."

Luo Ye was stunned: "Killing pigs? Why does he still like this?"

He Yuan shook his legs in boredom: "I saw rural people killing pigs, because I was a child, and they refused to ask me to watch the whole process, and finally they showed me the pig's head, and the pig's head was actually smiling. Wen Ji was very interested in this, and he decided that something happy happened."

Luo Ye didn't understand these two personalities.

"Actually, it's a little scary." He Yuan said without thinking.

"What's scary."

"When Wenji controls this body, my senses seem to be veiled. I clearly know what I am doing, but all actions cannot be determined by myself." He shrugged pretending to be relaxed, but Luo Ye knew that this was not an easy story.

He Yuan stopped and continued to read the novel in his hand.Luo Ye is closer to the so-called "naive poet". He has excellent, calm rationality and fluency when constructing the inner world of his works. He is not racking his brains to consider the feelings of readers. All his experiences come from nature. It is as if the Muse channeled the power and beauty of nature into the tip of his pen.

The story tells that the protagonist "I" went to the countryside of the defeated country to recuperate because of a serious gastrointestinal disease. The villagers were very hostile to "I", but "I" really/he/mother didn't care. Then, "I" discovered that all of this was true. Strange - the villagers are protecting someone.Behind the beautiful nursing home with a garden where "I" lives, there is a three-story building from the last century that destroys the beauty, and it is full of old people.But neither the villagers nor the staff of the nursing home gave any explanation for this.

"I" was very fond of a young and rich gentleman, and sometimes "we" would eat together, and then go for a walk together, or go fishing.

At the same time, every day, the bones of the elderly are moved out of the three floors by silent companions to be buried.The old men were quiet, almost rude. When "I" communicates with these old people, they will answer all questions slowly, but once you ask them, "What did you do when you were young?" They will keep silent, and every old person is like this.It almost makes people wonder if they were doing things for Cthulhu when they were young.

Until one day, "I" discovered that when the body of one of the old men was brought out, he had an army ceremonial sword stuck in his chest.

As a retired policeman, "I" began to suspect all the old people immediately, and dug the grave that night to check every corpse. This is the only one who committed suicide with a sword.

What keeps everyone silent?And who caused the serial murders?

He Yuan already knew the answer, because Luo Ye, who was writing a detective novel, was indeed not smart. Of course, it was the young man who seemed to be kind to the protagonist who executed the old man. When Luo Ye was not paying attention, he secretly glanced at Luo Ye. Ye turned to the last page.

Sure enough, it was the rich young gentleman.

"The young man's hair was wet and he was howling like a beast, 'Brutal bastards, you killed my grandfather! Killed my grandfather!'"

"'Son,' said an old man who had been silent, 'Son, we waited too long to die, but we never regretted it, we were only soldiers who failed.'

This is the story of a soldier's descendant slaughtering a soldier in order to avenge the soldier.

"Br**o," He Yuan flipped a page casually: "This page, 'Look, the green mountains and the beautiful morning mist, the tiny lives of human beings, but they try to use all means to get them out of the hands of their companions." Take it away. They don't know that it's not the mountains and the landscape that belong to humans, but the humans that belong to the land they're on. 'I kind of like your book, and you can make me love you more, too."

"Okay, editor Heyuan, what do you need?"

"Cake, sweetened coffee, and...well, something sweeter."

Luo Ye stood up and rubbed his neck, found a briefcase and put the manuscript in it, then put the sleeping orange cat in the cage, holding He Yuan's arm, "Let's go, let's go to the screenwriting department together, hand over After finishing the manuscript, let's go eat something."

"You don't have a cat?"

He lied without changing his face and heartbeat: "The old editor is allergic to cat fur."

He Yuan was very disappointed.

A nice looking lady is sitting on a bench in the waiting area.

This is another rising star in the literary world, a lady who will become "notorious" in the future. Of course, she is very principled in her dealings with others, and she is a smooth-faced person.If plagiarism is not mentioned, of course she can be regarded as a writer of "the domineering president falls in love with me" well.

When Luo Ye walked in, her eyes were attracted, his unique world-weary face made him look like a god instead of a writer.They rarely met, but whenever she chatted with reporters, she always said he was her daffodil.

"She's looking at you," He Yuan whispered to him, "I know her too."

"Then she must be a famous writer?"

"It doesn't count," he said maliciously, "but he is much more famous than you."

"As a writer, she is very negligent." Luo Ye almost laughed angrily: "She just grasped the female market, but an author who knows readers well will not create works for readers. In another century, such readers—— With such a spirit, it emits a repulsive stench."

"Look, once I say that others are good, you will be jealous."

Luo Ye looked at him deeply: "It's what you want to say."

"what?"

"One day in the future, you will appear in front of me and tell me very arrogantly that you are the best reader."

He Yuan thought about it for a long time, and smiled very happily.

One day when He Yuan was in high school

"The late philanthropist, educator, and writer Luo Ye's "Our Silence" is about to hit the movie screen. The film, directed by new female director Cai Wen, tells the story of a group of forgotten soldiers involved in a murder case."

The host said: "This novel has great humanistic care, and it is also the cinnabar mole and white moonlight in the hearts of all Luo Ye readers—"

The classmate cursed and said: "What they said to me is not a novel at all."

He Yuan was spinning the pen on his seat, but his thoughts were brought into a dream.

The book in the dream indeed contained a kind of compassion that ordinary people cannot detect.Those old people who got involved in the war, they often kept silent, bowed their heads, they decided that they were guilty.As a soldier, he failed to bring victory to the motherland, but as a human being, he lost his humanity. PTSD takes a toll on their bodies and minds.They spent the rest of their lives in repentance, and the appearance of the murderer just gave them a reason to die.

In the end they were completely silent in the noisy heavy rain.

a report

Reporter: "About the work "Our Silence", does Mr. have a prototype?"

Luo Ye smiled and said, "Yes."

Reporter: "Is it convenient to tell this story? This work has caused a great sensation since it was published. We want to know whether this is a true story."

Luo Ye said: "This story comes from my muse. When he told me, I was immediately shocked by the power of this story. I think we should consider the story behind the silence. As for whether it is true or not, haha, A writer I like said that for the author, it is impossible for the author to deny that 'I' is not the protagonist of the story, and to make readers not think that this is a true story. This is the task of a fiction writer."

The reporter scribbled down notes: "So, sir, would you like to tell us about your muse?"

"Oh, of course." Luo Ye said: "My muse comes on a rainy night. If there is wind, that's even better. I like rainstorms, and I also like lightning. When he appears in front of me, I will ask He kowtowed three times and bowed nine times."

As he spoke, he himself laughed, but even though he was smiling, he shed tears: "You have to believe that he is always the best reader. He is a naive reader. When he reads, he is tolerant." , for everything you think, he will never make superficial criticism.

But I will never see him again. "