I don’t know why my parents sold me. I don’t remember them. My second parents said that I should be grateful to them for the rest of my life because they gave me a normal family. They had their own daughter and wanted a son, but they couldn’t.

My daughter died and they had no money for her burial. They asked me to go out and work to earn money, saying that it was my job. But the construction sites didn’t want me because I was too young. I could only sneak in to work secretly. In the end, they only gave me half of the money because I took the initiative to do the work and they didn’t recognize it. My parents said I was useless and discussed selling me. I came to this village by myself. I

helped the grandparents in the village during the autumn harvest, and I also helped run errands and deliver things on weekdays. They gave me money. They also gave me clothes to wear, and some people wanted me to live in their homes, but I didn't want to go.

Qingshu's tone was very normal when he said these words, but Wei Yuan's heart was surging. He didn't know whether he felt heartbroken for him because he fell in love with such a person, or he was grateful to God for giving him such a perfect protagonist in the novel.

He tossed and turned for several days. He didn't expect this story to be so heavy. He thought he was just a child without parents and had never known what family affection was, so he could give him the most precious love in the world. But he didn't know that he had so many parents and had experienced so much "love".

People are always like this, without knowing the limits.

The tree stands there, and you have to get close to it. Seeing that it is rootless, you want to show how much you love it by letting it plant on yourself.

Over the years, I feel that the light that should be seen has been blocked.

Even though Wei Yuan had suffered from insomnia for several days in the midsummer, the fear was still fleeting in his heart. How could he let down such a small person in front of him, who was so thin and knew nothing about the outside world? Even if he was to take him back to his home, or even not have him work, but just take care of him at home, how could he let him down? Such a person, what he lacked, was waiting for him. Thinking of

this, Wei Yuan felt excited again. He pinched Qingshu's hair, which had grown longer than his shoulders, and stood behind Qingshu, pulling the hair to his lips and kissing again and again, "Why haven't I seen you cut your hair? Now you look like a little girl."

It's too easy to feel ambiguous in the midsummer.

You don't know whether the heat in your body is because of the temperature or because of the person standing behind you.

Qingshu was sweating all over and felt embarrassed for the first time. He climbed trees with Ah Niu from the village, and walked close to him when they were sweating profusely. But now he felt that he smelled bad, and he fantasized that he had the fragrance of flowers on his body, which made Wei Yuan feel good all the time.

He wanted to move forward, but his hair was still held in Wei Yuan's hand, and he said in a low voice, "I don't have money, so I cut it when it was very long."

"You haven't cut it yourself?" Wei Yuan laughed.

"I have cut it, but I'm clumsy

and it doesn't look good." Wei Yuan laughed even louder this time. He reached out and pulled Qingshu into his arms. Qingshu's clumsiness and innocence seemed to always please him. Qingshu said that he thought he had superpowers, and he laughed loudly. Qingshu said that he was clumsy, and he also laughed loudly.

The tip of his ear was red. Qingshu wanted to get out of his arms, but was forced to sit down. "Be obedient, I'll cut your hair."

The black hair was scattered all over the floor, reflecting yellow light in the sunlight, like long, glittering gemstones. Qingshu didn't dare to look in the mirror. He rarely looked in the mirror. Occasionally, he would pass by the river and look inside so as not to forget what he looked like.

He didn't like the mirror and asked Wei Yuan what he thought and whether he looked good

. Wei Yuan kissed Qingshu on the forehead and said he looked good.

Did it start to change from that moment? Later, Wei Yuan liked to think about this question when facing a blank document. Writers are always sentimental, regardless of gender. They like to be more realistic, just like repeatedly polishing a plot conflict and revising a more perfect logical chain. This is a habit of thinking, deeply rooted. I feel that a question always has its most essential and true answer, but I haven't found the answer yet.

Did it start to change at this moment? After cutting his hair short, it seemed that something covering Qingshu's eyes was removed, and he could see a wider world.

What kind of person is Qingshu?

He began to ask himself frequently how his writing was going, and called him brother in an innocent tone, or perhaps a tone of pretending to be innocent - brother, can you show it to me? Am I really the protagonist? What is your city like? Do many people go to KFC every day? What does ice cream taste like? Is it the same as old popsicles? I have only eaten old popsicles, and I rarely eat old popsicles.

He found that Qingshu's interest in him had completely shifted to that wider world. Wei Yuan typed a line of words into the document, writing -

Qingshu. These two words were out of this world, and I could feel the wind when I looked at him.

He deleted the words one by one, and typed the word Qingshu again. There was no follow-up for a long time, and the cursor jumped and flickered.

Late summer.

Wei Yuan and Qingshu hid in a shabby little house to drink.

Four bottles of beer. Wei Yuan had just taken them out of the freezer in the canteen. The bottles were still covered with water droplets condensed by the cold air and heat, and they were crystal clear.

The lights were dim, not even brighter than the moonlight leaking in through the hole in the roof. The two people couldn't see each other's expressions clearly. Wei Yuan smiled and asked Qingshu if he knew how to drink. Qingshu lied and said yes.

Wei Yuan knew he was lying. He had never drunk before. He had never eaten a pack of QQ candy for two yuan, and how could he have drunk a bottle of beer for seven yuan. But he didn't expose him and handed Qingshu a bottle of cold beer. Seeing his cheeks gradually turn red, he began to feel dizzy and nauseous, but pretended to be indifferent. Wei Yuan began to dislike Qingshu like this. He became not simple, no longer innocent, no longer completely trusting him, he lied to him.

His eyes were hazy, but he pretended to be clear.

This was their first kiss, and also their last.

Wei Yuan bit his lips in anger, his lips cooled by beer, his eyes slightly red, and asked Qingshu why, "I like you so much, what exactly do you like, Qingshu, Qingshu. I told you to take root in me, but your branches are too long."

"You should be a child who doesn't know the world, Qingshu, you should always worship me, I am the hero in your heart, forever."

Unfortunately, Qingshu was drunk.

But Wei Yuan knew that Qingshu didn't like him, but all the unknown expectations, including the past him. He was so natural, so innocent, and he bit his hook in the blink of an eye.

Late autumn.

Qingshu knew that Wei Yuan was leaving today. His hair had grown back, and the ends of his hair poked his shoulders, making him feel slightly itchy. He was still squatting at the intersection at the foot of the mountain where cars could pass, with half of his body leaning against the leafless tree next to him.

The two hadn't spoken a word for half a month, as if they had made an agreement, like lovers who had just broken up. When Wei Yuan saw Qingshu's back, he felt as if he had actually lived here for a year and fell in love with a country boy, let's call it love. He inevitably thought of the first day he came here, when the writer, who had run out of inspiration, sought stimulation from a new environment and left on impulse, thinking that he was doing romantic performance art, but he didn't expect that there was no hotel here, not even an inn.

Wei Yuan was so exhausted from looking for a house that he didn't notice that there was a child following him. He was surprised when he saw Qingshu, surprised that he could see such a beautiful thing in such a place.

Qingshu is beautiful.

He doesn't have the impetuousness of a big city, and he has the smell of green trees and yellow earth, but he is not rustic. He bought a can of beer on the roadside and asked Qingshu if he was from the village. He teased Qingshu, introduced himself to Qingshu, and coaxed Qingshu to introduce himself. But Qingshu said nothing.

Contradictory, mysterious and beautiful.

It made all his confusion and fatigue disappear.

When the sun was about to set, Qingshu spoke to him, "Are you looking for a place to live?"

It was a big dream.

Wei Yuan got into the departing car and resisted turning his head to look at Qing Shu squatting on the roadside. He opened the car window and the wind blew in. It lingered on his fingertips with a cool touch.

Wei Yuan remembered a sentence in his document that he had deleted repeatedly but finally retained - Qing Shu, I can feel the wind when I look at him.

The farewell shot, the last shot was on Liang Yisheng's side, and Xu Yan only needed to be a background board. In the script, Qing Shu squatted under the tree, and that was all. Although the farewell was filmed before the haircut, with Xu Yan's understanding of the script, the moment he squatted here, the entire plot of "Shadow" was already in his mind.

He was not sure when he shed tears, as it was not in the script. But fortunately the camera was not on him, and the wind blew over his face, making it wet, so he quickly raised his hand to wipe the tears from his face.

After Lu Jiahong shouted "OK", he specifically called Xu Yan, but Xu Yan was still confused as to what was going on. How could a background figure like him be called over? Logically, the camera could not even capture his expression clearly.

Lu Jiahong smiled clearly and patted Xu Yan's shoulder hard, "Okay, this is good. I said that this shot was missing something at the end, it was missing this action."

Liang Yisheng also came over to watch, and the picture clearly captured Xu Yan wiping his tears. Due to the distance, his quick movements seemed to be a cover-up, with a sense of unwilling confrontation.

Xu Yan was shocked, "I didn't do it on purpose, director, I thought I couldn't be filmed at this time..."

"No, no, no, this is good." Lu Jiahong lit a cigarette, his tone excited, "crying?"

Xu Yan glanced at Liang Yisheng, feeling a little embarrassed, but still nodded, "Yeah..."

"There's nothing wrong, why is the last shot so far away from you, it's to blur Qingshu's emotions, the audience doesn't know what you are doing, you can cry, you can laugh. Leave you blank, you are what the audience thinks you are." Lu Jiahong asked, "Why are you crying?"

Xu Yan couldn't give an answer, he could only say he didn't know.

Luk Ka-hung was in high spirits after taking the shots he was satisfied with. The next scene was the shot inside the house, where the crew was walking along the mountain road back to the village.

Xu Yan looked at Liang Yisheng's back, and what came to his mind was the emotional positioning that the scriptwriter had given to Wei Yuan in the farewell scene, "a big dream".

A big dream.

————

I have many regrets about handling the play within the play in this way. I will definitely write a book in which the play within the play and the protagonist's emotional line are perfectly integrated in the future! Clench your fists tightly.