The tea room was very quiet.
Only the white steam emanating from the spout of the purple clay teapot rose gently in the dim light.
Gu Changfeng's question was like a pebble thrown into a deep well.
Where did this weathered look come from?
Lin Que held the warm teacup.
My fingertips gently caressed the rough texture of the clay.
He didn't answer immediately, but lowered his eyes to watch the tea leaves swaying in the cup.
Where did it come from?
Should I tell these two titans that I am actually a "monster" who has lived two lives?
To say that in his past life he once spent three days and three nights staking out a funeral home in order to write a good script...
Just to observe the micro-expressions on the faces of family members?
I once helped unload goods at the vegetable market at four in the morning, just to hear the bawdy jokes and sighs of the vendors.
Those weren't hardships, but rather memories of his past life as a screenwriter.
The "survival instinct" that one has to develop in order to make a living.
"Chairman Gu, Chairman Liang."
Lin Que raised his head, his eyes clear and bright.
Yet she possessed a calmness that was far beyond her years.
"Actually, I haven't experienced any major ups and downs, as you probably already know."
The family is harmonious, both parents are alive, and life is going smoothly.
Liang Wenyu frowned slightly.
Clearly, this answer cannot explain the penetrating power of Lin Que's writing.
"but."
Lin Que changed the subject, a faint bitter smile appearing on his lips.
"I've seen it."
"Have you seen it?"
Gu Changfeng paused slightly in his tea-serving hand.
"Yes, I've seen it."
Lin Que's voice was soft and gentle, as if he were telling someone else's story.
There's an uncle who sells pancakes downstairs from my house. He sets up his stall at four o'clock every morning.
He was always smiling, but I've seen him when no one was around.
He secretly picked up the half-eaten sausage that had fallen on the ground, wiped it clean, and stuffed it into his mouth.
Because he couldn't bear to throw it away, nor could he bear to give it to the customers.
"I saw that man in the hospital corridor, squatting in the corner and crying while holding the payment slip."
He cried silently, only his shoulders trembled.
When the doctor called his name, he wiped his face hard with his sleeve.
As she stood up, that ingratiating smile returned to her face.
Upon hearing this, Liang Wenyu's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly.
A drop of scalding hot tea splashed onto the back of his hand, but he didn't even notice.
He just stared at Lin Que.
Lin Que ignored him and continued:
"I also saw that young man in a cheap suit, reeking of alcohol, on the last bus late at night."
He was vomiting while simultaneously making phone calls to his clients, putting on a smiling face.
After hanging up the phone, he pressed his head against the oil-stained car window.
Tears streamed down her nose, yet she continued humming an unknown song.
Lin Que paused here and took a sip of tea.
The tea is slightly bitter upon entering the throat, followed by a sweet aftertaste.
"Seniors, I am indeed young and have not suffered much hardship."
But my eyes are rather greedy.
It likes to stare at things that are 'ugly'.
Lin Que pointed to his eyes, his tone sincere.
"I stored these images in my mind."
I bring them up when I'm writing an essay, or when I'm daydreaming.
I imagined myself as that uncle selling pancakes.
"That's the man crying in the hospital, the drunk salesman."
"I try to understand their pain, even if it's only one ten-thousandth of it."
Then, the words flowed out on their own.
"The so-called hardships and frosts are nothing but stolen by me."
I stole the bitterness of others and used it to create the ink on my pen.
A long, deathly silence fell over the study.
Only the occasional sound of the wind passing by the window, rustling the branches and leaves of the sycamore tree.
Gu Changfeng and Liang Wenyu exchanged a glance.
They both saw a deep shock in each other's eyes.
And an undisguised... sense of treasuring talent.
Stealing the suffering of others to create ink for one's pen.
That's easy to say.
But for a high school student in their teens, what a terrifying level of empathy that is!
There are always some people in this world who seem to be fed by God.
Ordinary people see the world as mountains and water as water.
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