Chapter 283: Qingyu Collection: Qingshan holds the moon, unpolished jade lies in the warm clouds

My name is Xie Ming.

Born in this village which is neither big nor small.

As far as I can remember, I have never seen my parents.

There are always only my grandma and I at home, and there are always only two sets of bowls and chopsticks on the stove.

My grandmother was very strict with me, but I could feel her love for me.

She would tell me that her parents would send money back every six months when they worked away from home, and she would even record the amount of money they sent and ask me to remember it.

At that time, I didn't understand the purpose, and I once lay on the doorstep waiting, waiting for the two "Mom and Dad" who only existed on the remittance slip to suddenly appear at the entrance of the village.

Whenever I asked my grandma this, she would always look at me deeply with eyes that I couldn't understand, then she would sigh deeply, touch my head and say, "Grandma will always love you."

The village is nestled in a valley, and the days are as peaceful as the stream in front of the village.

Every day I had to climb the steep mountain road for two hours to go to school in the countryside, and when I came back I helped my grandmother weave bamboo baskets and dry goods.

Occasionally I would play hopscotch and hoop rolling with the children in the village, but what I looked forward to most was listening to the uncles who had returned from work talk about things in the city.

My uncle said that the buildings in the city are taller than the mountains, and the roads are wide enough for ten cows to run side by side.

He said that people in the city dressed very brightly, and there were movie theaters, amusement parks, libraries... My heart trembled when I heard that.

Lying on my wooden bed at night, I always imagine myself walking on the bright and prosperous streets, surrounded by busy city people.

But before dawn the next day, I would still obediently carry a bamboo basket and go up the mountain with my grandma to collect mountain products.

Because the money my parents sent was not enough to support the lives of my two grandchildren, because I was still in school, and because my grandmother wanted to make early plans for my future.

Those colorful city dreams are like rainbows in the fog, visible but untouchable.

The days passed one by one, like the bamboo baskets that grandma could never finish weaving, round and round, unable to get around the mountain.

When I was twelve years old.

My grandmother took me to the post office to withdraw money. Standing in front of the green counter of the post office, she handed over the wrinkled household registration booklet as usual.

But this time, the staff only pushed over one letter.

Thin and light.

"You don't have to come to get it in the future." The clerk wearing reading glasses hesitated to speak.

Grandma folded the letter and put it in her pocket, her skinny hands clenching it so tightly that it hurt.

On the way back, we passed by the wonton stall at the town entrance and she bought me a bowl as usual.

The snow-white wontons were floating in the clear soup, and I insisted on giving her most of them.

The heat blurred my vision, and I looked down to see my grandmother’s red eyes reflected in the soup.

Later I understood what the letter meant - my parents outside the mountain each had a new home, and I was left as an unnecessary burden in the old dream.

Going to school in rural areas is not expensive, and with compulsory education, other fees are also reduced or exempted. It is nothing for a normal family, but it is really difficult for me and my grandmother.

Every time I paid the textbook fees, the rustling sound of my grandmother weaving bamboo baskets would continue until later in the night.

After entering the first grade of junior high school, after only half a semester, my grandmother's hair turned grayer. She never showed it on her face, her living conditions were the same as usual, and even her pocket money did not decrease at all. But the more this happened, the more sad I felt.

Because I already know what's going on, and I know that those jobs are really tiring, very tiring.

That day, with my grandma watching me off, I went out with my schoolbag as usual, but turned towards the bus station at a fork in the road.

With the 101.6 yuan I had saved for a long time, I took a bus from the town to the city, and the fare was 16 yuan.

I held my schoolbag, which contained the remaining eighty-five yuan and sixty cents, as well as the new cloth shoes my grandma had made for me.

I spent so much money just going out.

The familiar green hills outside the window were receding rapidly, and ahead was an endless asphalt road.

I was both scared and excited, and my palms were sweaty.

I asked a classmate to deliver a message to my grandma, but I wonder if she'll forget it. She's been complaining of chest pains lately, will she become sick from worry?

The car was filled with the stench of gasoline and sweat.

I pressed my face against the cold glass and watched the mountain village where I had lived for twelve years grow smaller and smaller, finally disappearing into the morning mist.

City life is completely different from what I imagined.

This steel forest is indeed spacious enough, but it cannot accommodate a thin and flexible shadow that is just trying to survive.

Because I am still young, I always stumble in the job search. Occasionally, I am lucky enough to get a job, but I always have to do more work than others and get less wrinkled bills.

I probably have low self-esteem.

Whenever the boss used a rhythmic tone to enumerate the amount of "risks" he had assumed for me, I knew clearly that it was just an excuse to deduct money, but I swallowed the words back when they came to my lips.

Those carefully woven words were like a transparent spider web that could be torn apart with a simple struggle, but I didn't even have the strength to raise my hand.

Even so, every job I had was like sand in my hand, which I couldn't hold on to.

There are many reasons for leaving the job, and sometimes I even don’t understand the high-sounding reasons.

This city seems to be under a spell. Everyone wears a carefully crafted mask and always spends more time looking at others than examining themselves.

At this moment, I became a "vagrant" again, sitting on a bench with a faded schoolbag on my back.

The stars in the night sky flicker, just like the unburned firewood in the stove in my hometown.

My stomach was empty, but the aroma wafting from the window made me clench my pockets - I had to save this money for my grandma, maybe it would help her hunched back straighten a little.

"Woof woof!" There was a sudden slight tug at the trouser leg.

Looking down, I saw a skinny stray dog ​​with gray fur and ribs bulging under its skin.

Its wet nose touched my torn trouser leg and quickly retracted.

I squatted down and carefully straightened its tangled hair, and my fingertips could feel the protruding vertebrae.

"I don't have anything to eat either."

The words disappeared as soon as they came out of my mouth. Of course, it didn't understand me, but just curled up stubbornly at my feet, and its body temperature came through the thin upper of my shoes.

When the cool air from the convenience store refrigerator hit my face, I realized that I was standing in front of the cashier holding a sausage.

Watching it wolf down the broken ham sausage, something warm suddenly melted in its chest.

From then on, there was a shadow behind me.

It is very sensible and often looks for food by itself, but always appears on time when I finish work.

With it, the leaky windows of the little shabby house don't seem so cold anymore.

Until one evening, I was handing out flyers on a street corner when a familiar barking sound suddenly tore through the air.

There was an iron cage welded to the back of the motorcycle, and those always bright black eyes were looking at me through the fence.

I dropped the flyers and ran after them, printed materials flying behind me like snowflakes.

The figure in the cage became smaller and smaller, until it became a trembling black dot in the field of vision.

When my knees hit the asphalt road hard, I realized that my fingernails had left bloody marks on my palms.

"Is this your dog?" This simple question left me stunned when a kind passerby helped me up.

I opened my mouth, but realized I hadn't even given it a name.

The evening breeze blew the last flyer past my feet, and I suddenly realized that in this city, even "losing" seems so luxurious.

After all, I never really owned anything.

Even so, life is like a rusty gear that still has to move forward with difficulty.

Because I "left my post" to chase that puppy, I lost the new job I had finally found.

The boss took the opportunity to deduct half of my salary. I clutched the few thin banknotes, packed my bags in silence and left.

Maybe it was a momentary impulse, or maybe I just wanted to escape from this sad place, but I gritted my teeth and walked towards the city center.

I don't want to go on like this anymore.

After wandering around for several days, I finally found a small restaurant willing to take me in.

Every day there are endless dishes to wash, endless meals to deliver, endless floors to mop and endless tables to wipe, but I am already very content.

The boss was more "generous" than those mean people before, and he covered my house, so I finally had a place to shelter from the wind and rain for a short time.

I have been doing this job longer than ever before, and I have even gradually become familiar with some of the faces that occasionally smile at me.

Until that day.

On the way back to the store after delivering the meal, I saw a little girl of five or six years old being roughly dragged away by a strange woman.

Not far away, a van had its side door open, like a mouth waiting for prey.

The girl struggled desperately, crying, "I don't know her," while the woman smiled apologetically and explained to passers-by that "the child was throwing a tantrum," while pinching the girl's wrist hard.

Passersby just took a quick glance and walked away indifferently.

In this city, people have long been accustomed to turning a blind eye to the suffering of strangers.

I froze in place, my heart pounding like a drum.

Can't the adults really see anything unusual?

Or are they just choosing to turn a deaf and dumb?

I have finally settled down. If I meddle in other people's affairs, will I lose everything again?

Shouldn’t we also...learn how to behave like “city people”?

After all, I have no relationship with this little girl.

After this delay, there will definitely be a series of things to deal with.

It's lunchtime in the store and it's bustling with activity.

I just want to pretend that I don’t know.

I even turned slightly sideways, ready to walk away with my head down like everyone else...

But at this moment, the girl suddenly bit the woman's hand, stumbled to her feet after being slapped, and rushed towards me quickly.

She hugged my legs tightly, raised her tear-stained face, and tremblingly called out, "Brother!"

Passersby looked over and saw the woman approaching with a ferocious look, while the child in her arms was shaking uncontrollably.

I slowly squatted down, hugged her thin body tightly, looked up at the woman's eyes, and said with a firmer voice than I expected -

"This is my sister, you are a human trafficker!"

Although I am not very old, I am not short in stature, otherwise I would not always be treated as cheap labor.

The old lady saw the fierce look in my eyes and the growing crowd of onlookers, and she finally felt guilty.

She gave me a vicious look, turned around and fled towards the van on the side of the road.

She gave up so easily that I secretly breathed a sigh of relief - it turns out that resistance is not as difficult as I imagined.

What happened next was just as I expected.

Passersby expressed their support, but no one wanted to get involved in this "other matter".

In the end, this hot potato fell into the hands of me, the "brother" who recognized his sister on the street.

On the way to the police station, the little girl's hand kept tightly holding my fingers.

Her palms were wet, she couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

When we got to the police station, I squatted down and said, "Go in. The uncles and aunties inside will help you find your family."

I couldn't go in with her because I couldn't explain too much to the person asking.

What's more, the risk of losing your job may have been 90%, but once you go in, it's 100%.

Without asking any more questions, she let go of my hand, raised her little face and said seriously, "Brother, good people will be rewarded. My name is Chu Meng, and when I grow up, I will definitely repay you. Thank you!"

After watching her small figure disappear behind the police station door, I turned and left.

Will good people be rewarded?

That may not be the case.

Because of this "absenteeism", I was kicked out again.

Fortunately, the boss was kind enough to pay me on the spot, but he angrily kicked me out of the store.

I can’t remember how many times I’ve been unemployed.

Just as I was looking around aimlessly with my luggage, the owner of a nearby shop called me.

He said that since I worked efficiently, he was willing to give me a long-term job.

This was very tempting to me, and I was not without caution in my heart, but I was still too eager to settle down.

I followed him as if possessed by some unknown force.

The result was as expected.

Not only the newly earned wages, but also the money brought from the village were all cheated away.

At dusk, I curled up on a park bench, staring at the calm lake.

My mind was blank and I just stayed awake until dawn.

People doing morning exercises started showing up one after another, and most of them gave me a wide berth.

Only a woman in sportswear stopped in front of me and asked softly, "Are you running away from home?"

I looked up.

She must have come here to exercise as well, wearing casual sportswear.

Her bangs were a little long because they hadn't been cut in a long time. I moved them aside a little and then I could see her face clearly.

Then he shook his head and said that he was not, he just had no money to go back.

But the lady's eyes lit up for a moment, she squatted down and asked me if I mind seeing my eyes. I shook my head indifferently.

She carefully lifted my bangs. I don't know if she was scared by me, but she was a little stunned. I looked away from her and lowered my head again.

"Little brother," her voice suddenly became excited, "do you want to be a star?"

A star? The glamorous ones on TV? Me?

What a joke! I subconsciously didn't want to believe it, and the voice squeezed out of my throat was extremely hoarse:

"I have no money left, go and cheat someone else."

I don’t know if it’s because my face says I’m gullible, but everyone comes to cheat me.

She didn't give up easily and kept explaining to me. She also took out a lot of documents from her body to show that she was a scout from a legitimate company.

I couldn't help but twitch my lips and suddenly asked, "Does it include food and accommodation? Is there a monthly salary?"

These expectations that had been hidden in my heart for a long time suddenly came out of my mouth.

Unexpectedly, her eyes lit up and she answered decisively, "It's more than that! As long as you work hard, the rewards you get in the future will be a thousand times greater than what you get now."

I had no choice but to follow her.

When the barber cut my messy hair, the thin face in the mirror made me dazed for a moment.

When I arrived downstairs at the company and looked at the towering glass curtain wall building, I couldn't help but wonder: Are the scammers so grand now?

The food in the staff restaurant was unexpectedly delicious, and the dormitories were incredibly clean and tidy.

On the way to the physical examination, I suddenly grabbed her sleeve and asked, "What are you trying to do?"

After coming to this city for so long, what I have been looking for is right in front of me, but I feel a little hesitant.

According to the exchange theory here, any gift has a price tag, and no one would be so nice to another person for no reason.

So, what does this lady want?

She smiled brightly and looked me straight in the eyes with a burning gaze: "What do I want? I want an 'opportunity'."

Chance?

This vague word made me even more confused, but hearing that she had something to ask for made me feel a lot more at ease.

The days that followed were like a dream.

Although I didn't sign a formal contract, I started intensive training with a group of peers.

Vocal music, dance, acting... these courses that I had never taken before made me feel both curious and nervous.

I treated this period as a trial period and practiced like crazy.

If I couldn’t remember the movements, I would practice them repeatedly until late at night. If I couldn’t memorize the lyrics, I would copy them hundreds of times.

The teachers' praising eyes always follow me, so that I won't panic and won't be afraid that I will be kicked out at any time.

Finally, on the fifth day of apprenticeship, the lady appeared again.

When she asked me to contact my family to sign the contract, I just silently dialed the village committee's landline number.

The company is familiar with this type of process and the subsequent procedures were handled extremely smoothly.

My grandmother didn't object to me staying. On the contrary, I read some silent support in her cloudy but warm eyes.

She hoped that I could break free from the shackles of fate and walk out of the world that trapped my two grandparents.

The moment I signed the contract, my heart finally settled down.

I am no longer a temporary worker who may be fired at any time, but have a formal identity - a trainee.

This city finally gave me a foothold and living space.

But I still dare not relax at all.

Although the concept of "debut" is still vague, the experience of displacement in the past has long been engraved in my bones: I must fight hard and strive to be the first.

Especially now that we are standing on the same starting line with other trainees, isn't the competition about who is more willing to take risks?

The day after signing the contract, the dance teacher started stretching my legs.

"Nice flexibility." As soon as she finished her words of praise, the sharp pain made my breath choke.

He was lying on the floor, sweat dripping down his face, but there was a burning fire in his eyes.

People came and went in the practice room, rotating like a revolving lantern. More and more senior executives began to meet with me individually, their eyes full of evaluation and questioning.

But I am not afraid of doubts. Only by crushing them can I climb up step by step.

Perhaps my performance was satisfactory, and the company gradually provided me with more resources.

One-on-one exclusive courses are scheduled closely, and even teachers of academic subjects are being arranged.

I was like a spinning top, spinning back and forth between the practice room and the classroom, and there was never enough time.

After that, I moved to a larger dormitory. At first, I was the only one living there. Later, some other people moved in. At the most, there were more than ten people. At the least, I was the only one left guarding the empty room.

Two months later, the staff was finally settled.

I also started socializing with familiar roommates. I saw more of the world, and my mind, which had been bound by boundaries, gradually opened up, and a certain keen intuition began to awaken.

Now, I can always accurately capture the subtle changes in people's hearts, thereby avoiding traps and finding the best way to deal with them.

This transformation actually started when I joined the company.

Although I am still that silent and lonely boy at heart, I can easily get along with the trainees and make everyone feel that they have a close relationship with me.

But my heart was always clear and distant. I didn't like anyone, I hated something, and I had already learned to hide these emotions perfectly.

Just because I know what the company requires of me.

They want me to be "perfect."

In this case, we should gradually remove the unpleasant traits and carefully stitch in the welcome elements.

Day after day, year after year, until a brand new "me" is forged that meets everyone's expectations.

My intuition has always been accurate.

When I got along well with the other three people in the dormitory, and when that little brat named Zhuoer was put into our dormitory, I had a premonition that some changes were about to happen.

Sure enough, a senior manager in the company suddenly summoned me.

Sitting on the leather sofa in the spacious office, Mr. Li pushed a document over with a gentle smile.

The lace-lined "NOVA-X" lettering gleamed in the reflection of the glass window - this was the business plan for the new boy band.

"congratulations."

His eyes behind the lenses gleamed with shrewdness. "You will become the core of this group, the soul of the entire team."

He even added meaningfully: "It can be said that this project only came into being because of you."

Of course I didn't believe it, but I still lowered my eyes, revealing just the right amount of trepidation: "I still have a lot to learn."

This humble gesture evidently pleased him, for he then pushed forward another envelope.

When I opened the envelope, I felt no emotion at all, but when I saw the contents on the letter, I was still slightly stunned.

"Mr. Li, this is...?"

A smug smile played on his face. "The word 'Ming' is too common and doesn't suit you. I asked a master to calculate it for you."

As he spoke, he pointed to the three characters written in flamboyant script on the letterhead: "From now on, your name will be - Xie Qingyu."

In addition to the name, there were two lines of poetry on the letter paper:

"The green mountains hold the moon, the unpolished jade lies in the warm clouds"

The first sentence begins with "green", and uses "mountains" and "moon" to outline the hazy mountain scenery, revealing a warm artistic conception.

The second sentence ends with "jade". "Unpolished jade" implies the uncarved authenticity, and the word "lying on the clouds" adds a bit of detachment.

The word "green jade" is hidden at the beginning and end of the two sentences, using the shape of mountains and rivers to convey the quality of beautiful jade.

I gently stroked the words on the paper.

At this moment, I fully understood the company's expectations.

They will get the "Xie Qingyu" they want - a perfect idol who is as gentle as jade and as elegant as the moon.

I will satisfy everyone.

Because from this moment on, I am—

Thank you Qingyu!