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no.15 acquaintance

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    This period of mixed flavors ended completely on June 6 two years ago.  After that, I quietly repeated my studies, and then I was admitted to this school. After that, I told myself that I no longer believe in friendship, I no longer believe in love, the past, let him die in my mind.  I don't know why I keep thinking about these pasts recently, maybe it's because since June 6th, the air is full of summer and the atmosphere of the college entrance examination.

    I haven't mentioned the past story to anyone, why should I mention it to others when I am ready to forget it?  Besides, my college life is as peaceful as ever.  Those so-called once kept can only make people heartache.  I like my current life: eating, attending classes, surfing the Internet, skipping classes, sleeping, having fun with my roommates or writing quietly.

    When I can¡¯t sleep in the middle of the night, I can get up and type on the computer screen by myself, and put it on the school newspaper and various magazines under different pseudonyms. Let everyone evaluate the article in my hand and guess the author.  What kind of person is he.  Seeing their confused look, I just smiled slightly.

    There is only one person who is different from them. He will write different content from the same place and send it over after I finish writing each paragraph.

    He said: "Mo Li, I know it's you, your words make people hurt."

    He said: "Mo Li, why are you deliberately hiding your pain? When you smile brightly, the pain in your eyes will make people feel more distressed."

    He said: "Mo Li, you shouldn't be wearing such bright clothes and have such a bright expression. No matter what you do, you can't hide the weak childishness on your face."

    He said: "Mo Li, tell me your story."

    I never answered a word of his letter.

    I know he is Yan Dong, the clean-looking campus singer who can sing soft love songs.

    I always knew we were in the same school, but I was in the Chinese Department of 2008 and he was in the Music Department of 2007.  The guy who is obsessed with music won the championship with the song "Stubborn" in last year's campus singer competition. I remember his appearance that day: a white suit looked clean under colorful lights, but he was very alienated from the audience.  His eyes were closed tightly, and the singing sound pierced through the noisy audience and still clearly entered the eardrums of people.  There is no grandstanding to show off, no pretentious aloofness, he just stands on the stage and sings his songs intently.

    I saw his stubbornness when he sang "I and my last stubbornness, hold your hands tightly and never let go, the next stop is heaven" on the stage, and his eyes were a little lonely when the music was completely still.

    I like such pure music, so I wrote a novel based on him, but I added a heroine to the story.  After his music ended, she stood in front of him and said, "You're neither happy nor free," and turned away, and they were never seen again.

    On the third day after the novel was published in the school newspaper, a letter was sent to the editorial department of the school newspaper, and the recipient was given the name of the novel.  I know it's him.  There was only one sentence on the letter: "If you guessed correctly, the hero is me, and the heroine is you." The lower right corner of the letter is his phone number.

    I dialed and told him: "The novel ended when she turned around." Then I hung up.

    We have each other's numbers, but we haven't contacted each other by phone.

    He stubbornly wrote me a letter after every article I wrote, and the last sentence of the letter was always: "The hero should at least know who the heroine is."

    Last year's New Year's Eve party, he sent another invitation: "Come and see my performance." After reading the letter, I took out my mobile phone and sent him a text message: "I will be there on time for the New Year's Eve party." He replied: "OK."

    I saw him looking around in the audience as he sang on stage at the New Year's Eve party.  I have been listening to him sing carefully.

    After the party was over, I walked over and said, "Hello, classmate, your song is very nice."

    He said: "Thank you, your next action should not be to turn around and leave."

    We met like this, when roommates looked at each other suspiciously, not knowing why.

    He insisted on writing to me after reading every text I wrote, and I insisted on not replying a single word but sending an empty text message back to tell him that he had received it.  I really don't know what to say to someone who knows each other so well.

    Aside from his letters and my texts, we are happy friends, joking around and hanging out together.  Anyway, as long as he and I appear at the same time, the scene will be very lively, but we all tacitly never mentioned music, letters, novels, and text messages.

    I know he is a man with a story, like he can see the sadness in my eyes.  It's just that he wants to know my story, but I don't want to pry into his secret.  (Remember the URL of this website: www.hlnovel.com
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