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    Yi Hui woke up earlier than usual that day, and when he went downstairs, he saw Jiang Yimang was already sitting at the dining table, and there was a movement of pots and pans colliding in the kitchen, and Jiang Xuemei was cooking inside.

    Jiang Yimang made an "OK" gesture, indicating that his mother is in good condition now, so he might as well give it a try. Yi Hui slowly moved to the kitchen door, turned a corner and sat down at the dining table, bowing his head and burying his face in his arms.

    Jiang Yimang dragged the chair beside him, leaned over and whispered, "Don't be afraid, I have to say it anyway. Don't you say you can live with it?"

    Yi Hui shook his head silently.

    "That's enough, why don't you just do it." Jiang Yimang was actually nervous, took a few deep breaths, and then persuaded, "She is a mother, why can't she see it? The more you pretend not to know, the more you feel The more difficult it is."

    Yi Hui didn't want her mother to feel uncomfortable, and no matter how panicked she was, she went into the kitchen with gritted teeth and was about to speak up, but Jiang Xuemei robbed her.

    "What are you doing here?" Jiang Xuemei squeezed the gnocchi into the boiling pot and said with a smile, "Go out and wait, you can eat it in a while."

    Yi Hui didn't leave, rubbing his trousers with his hands, as if a child made a mistake: "Mom, I..."

    Before he could finish speaking, Jiang Xuemei put down the plate in her hand and pushed him out: "Let's go, it's very hot here, go out and blow the fan."

    Yi Hui took two steps and refused to leave. Courage doesn't come easily, and if you don't talk about it, you don't know how long it will take.

    He turned his head and said, "Mom, I have something to tell you."

    Jiang Xuemei was a little anxious: "Is there anything I can't say after dinner? Go back and sit."

    Jiang Yimang stood up to help: "Mom, just listen to him."

    "Tsk, haven't the clothes in the yard been dried yet?" Jiang Xuemei couldn't hold back her siblings. She wiped her hand on the apron a few times, and then she was about to go out, "I'll go and dry the clothes first."

    "I'm going to dry, I'm going to dry, Mom, you and brother have a good chat." Jiang Yimang flew out after saying that.

    The job was robbed, and Jiang Xuemei planned to go back to the room: "I haven't sorted out the things I brought back from the factory yesterday, I'll..."

    "mom!"

    This cry was so loud that Jiang Xuemei stopped, forgetting the words for a while.

    Yi Hui stepped forward and pulled her arm: "Mom...you already knew that, didn't you?"

    After speaking, a burst of ease swept up suddenly, overshadowing the unease in my heart. The worst result is also within the range he can bear, what can't he say?

    The boiling water bubbling in the pot was not heated by the stove, and it gradually turned from bubbling to calm. Time flies slowly, enough for people to dig out from the depths of memory many things that have been intentionally or unintentionally ignored in the past, and then spread them out and re-examine them in the sun.

    Yi Hui remembered that Jiang Xuemei had looked at him in a trance more than once, and when he found out, he laughed and said that he was getting old, and that he was in a daze at every turn. Every time he eats sweets, when he weeps because of the plagiarism scandal, when he takes the initiative to lighten the burden for the family... Every time he makes all the choices that are different from the previous Jiang Yihui, Jiang Xuemei's heart is struggling.

    Knowing the son, Mo Ruomu, even the slightest change in the son can't escape the mother's eyes, let alone a change of person?

    Yi Hui couldn't imagine how much pain the middle-aged woman in front of him had gone through, and didn't know how to comfort her, so he gently pulled her sleeve again, and choked out, "Mom..."

    He has two mothers who love him and give him the best they have.

    He has been doing his best to strive for the so-called happiness in his two lifetimes, which is not too long or not short. Now he realizes that true happiness does not need to be pursued at all. He who has double the love, even if only once, is the happiest person in the world.

    This time Jiang Xuemei took the initiative to take a step forward and raised her arms to take Yi Hui into her arms.

    "Dear, don't cry, mom is here." She stroked Yi Hui's hair and said to tell him not to cry, but she burst into tears, "It's okay, mom is not sad. No matter what you become, you are Mama's good boy."

    On this Saturday, when the scorching sun at noon slanted westward, an awning was erected in the small courtyard of the Jiang family, and the family of three leaned against the loquat tree to enjoy the shade.

    Yi Hui picked up the picture of "Family and Everything is Prosperous" that had been on hold for a long time, sat cross-legged on a rattan chair and devoted himself to embroidering. Jiang Yimang was pounding a handful of impatiens flowers that Aunt Qiu had just sent, and said that he would use this to paint his nails. .

    "Put in an appropriate amount of salt, and mash it together with the petals..." Jiang Yimang read the steps on the phone and muttered, "How much is the appropriate amount?"

    She dug a tablespoon of salt from the kitchen, Yi Hui was startled when she saw it, and hurriedly inserted the needle to grab the spoon: "I'll put it in, I'll put it as I pound it, I almost know how much to put."

    He squeezed the salt with his fingers and added it to the garlic mortar bit by bit. After pounding for a while, Jiang Yimang jumped up excitedly: "The color has come out, the red is so beautiful!"

    Jiang Xuemei, who came out holding a few washed leaves, laughed at her making a fuss: "We all used this as nail polish when we were kids, how about the color?"

    Even though Yi Hui likes flowers, this is the first time he has heard that flowers have such a use. Seeing his curious face, Jiang Yimang grabbed his hand and was about to paint it for him: "I'm almost done, brother, come and try on us!"

    As the only male in the family, Yi Hui would not refuse his sister's request. He obediently stretched out his hand and let Jiang Yimang rub the dressing that he had just pounded on his nails.

    "The fingers are so long." Jiang Yimang envied while wiping, "Are all your drawing hands so beautiful?"

    Jiang Yihui's hand inherited from his deceased father, white and slender. Yi Hui knew that the "you" in Jiang Yimang's mouth included him in his previous life, so he recalled it seriously and said, "I used to have ugly hands, small palms, and very short fingers."

    Jiang Yimang pouted: "I don't believe it, don't force me to check your photos online."

    Yi Hui smiled: "At that time, I had a scar on my hand, so I couldn't go out easily. I shouldn't have been able to find the photo."

    Accidentally mentioned his sadness, Jiang Yimang said smartly: "I just don't believe it. You are always too modest. You used to say that you are not good at drawing, but you won a gold medal in a casual competition."

    I'm talking about the live painting competition went to the capital to participate in when first came here.

    Yi Hui said, "It's really not good, there's still a lot to learn."

    While Jiang Xuemei was not paying attention, Jiang Yimang whispered in Yi Hui's ear, "That painting...is it him?"

    Yi Hui knew that "he" was referring to Zhou Jinheng. Now that he has confessed everything, there is no need to hide it, he nodded: "Well."

    When he got a positive answer, Jiang Yimang said, "It's a loss, a big loss."

    Yi Hui didn't know why: "What's the loss?"

    Jiang Yimang snorted from his nose: "A piece of your original work is worth a lot of money, so you painted it for him for nothing?"

    "It can't be said of an 'authentic' work." Yi Huidao couldn't help laughing and laughing, "I didn't draw him on purpose. Strictly speaking, I violated his portrait rights."

    Jiang Yimang was still angry for him, he painted two fingers, wrapped leaves, and came over coyly and asked, "Then... do you still like him?"

    Yi Hui was stunned for a moment, and his eyes on the embroidered cloth were slightly out of focus.

    He didn't ask himself in his heart, and replied instinctively, "I don't like it anymore."

    How can you still like it?

    I didn't like it long ago.

    The Jiang family's mother and son spent a whole day and a half at home without leaving the door.

    On the weekend afternoon, made an appointment to see Dr. Liu. Before going out, Jiang Yimang took out the mask and gave it to Yi Hui. Looking left and right, he still felt inappropriate. He found the sunglasses at the bottom of the press box and put them on his face on tiptoe.

    Yi Hui felt that she was too nervous, so she took off her sunglasses and put them on the table in the entrance: "This is not necessary, you can't see the road clearly when you wear them."

    His original intention was to not want his family to worry about him, but as soon as he went out, he looked up and saw a certain person and the scarred wound on his face that was still hideous.

    Resisting the urge to turn around and hide back home, Yi Hui bypassed Zhou Jinheng without looking sideways, and walked straight to the van parked on the side of the road.

    As soon as he took two steps, he was grabbed by a hand.

    "I have something to say, give me some time." Zhou Jinheng said, "Five minutes is fine."

    Yi Hui took a deep breath, turned his head and signaled Jiang Yimang and Jiang Xuemei not to get involved, let him handle it himself, then took his arm out of Zhou Jinheng's hand and turned to face him: "Tell me."

    Zhou Jinheng's hand was still in the same position as when he was holding his wrist, and now he was holding only a mass of air. He squeezed the ring in the other hand, and turned his body to face Yi Hui.

    Yi Hui noticed that he was still wearing the shirt from the day before yesterday, and the hem was half tucked into the waistband of his trousers, leading people to look at his body that had lost weight in less than two days. is sick.

    He said in a low voice: "It's my fault to approach you with other identities." Perhaps because of his illness, his aura was weakened a lot than usual, and those aggressive edges seemed to be put away, "I... I really There is no way."

    For two days and two nights, Zhou Jinheng reviewed the experience of the past six months again. No matter from an intellectual point of view or an emotional category, even if he was given a chance to start over, he would still do it.

    His little fool wouldn't let him get close, he could only do it.

    Zhou Jinheng licked his chapped lips: "If you can accept him and don't hate him, treat me as him, okay? Treat me as him, and it doesn't matter for the rest of your life."

    Yi Hui never thought that the word "lifetime" would come out of Zhou Jinheng's mouth. But this assumption is too absurd, even more absurd than Zhou Jinheng clinging to him for a little hope.

    He doesn't know what his expression looks like hidden behind the mask, it may be smiling, or it may be insensitive. "You're not him," he said.

    Dora Hem, who was regarded as a friend by Yi Hui, was not killed by his own hands, but never existed.

    Even if Dora Hem is still around, he should know how much he hates deception, especially when he seduces him with what he most desires like this, and brutally rips the truth when he is defenseless.

    In his last life, he was seduced by the sweet fragrance he had never tasted, and willingly walked into the cage, prostrate on the ground and stepped into the mud. It was not until the end of his life that he knew that this sweet cage did not exist, and everything was an illusion piled up with lies.

    Anyone who knows him a little should know that he can endure loneliness and pain, but he cannot endure deceit.

    Zhou Jinheng's face turned pale again, as if he had been smothered to the last breath.

    After Yi Hui finished speaking, he was about to leave. Zhou Jinheng, like someone walking into a dead end, pinned his last hope on a promise he had made, and said anxiously, "You said you would come home with me, and you promised me."

    A casual assumption is not a promise. Yi Hui remembered that typhoon night with many wind and rain, the secret friendship in the dark, how soft his heart was at that time, and how cold and hard he is now.

    "But, I'm not him." Yi Hui raised his hand and lifted the mask, exposing his entire face to the air. Facing Zhou Jinheng's sharp eyes that could pierce people, he asked with a sullen face, nothing to do with himself. "Look carefully, who am I?"

    When he first entered the circle, in order to hone his acting skills, Zhou Jinheng did a lot of non-physical performance exercises by himself.

    The van had already driven a long way, and all the hustle and bustle had settled down. Only then did he suddenly realize that he was just doing a practice without physical objects. From the beginning to the end, he was the only one who was full of emotions. Performed brilliantly.

    However, he didn't get a response, and he faced an emotionless person comparable to the air.

    That person recited lines that did not belong to the script in an indifferent voice, like a bystander who was unwilling to cooperate.

    Bystander... This metaphor made Zhou Jinheng panic for no reason.

    If that person is a bystander, what about the other protagonist who is supposed to be with him in the story?

    What about his little idiot? What about the little fool who would cry for him and laugh for him, saying that he wanted to be with him forever?

    The home in City S is empty, the ring that should have been worn on the ring finger is still in his palm, where has his little fool gone?

    Looking around blankly, Zhou Jinheng seemed to have fallen into a deep nightmare, and seemed to have finally woken up.

    It is said that when people face dilemmas that threaten their lives, they will inspire previously unknown abilities. Zhou Jinheng thought, it turned out to be true.

    He cleaved the thorns on the road, kicked away the gravel under his feet, and ran in the direction of the light, only to find out that the light was fake, a mirage, and the obstacles along the way that he ignored and prevented him from moving forward were the real.

    Barren hills illuminated by police lights, mourning halls where people come and go, death certificates in black and white, faces in black and white photos that cannot completely overlap with the man...

    Zhou Jinheng squatted down slowly, wrapped his arms around his head, and inserted his fingers into the disheveled hair. As the palm of his fist loosened, the ring in his palm slipped from the hair.

    It was as if the last straw had been loosened.

    In the first acting class, the teacher said that if you act well, you can deceive others, but if you act badly, you can only deceive yourself.

    Since his debut, he has won numerous acting awards and is also known as the youngest actor in this century, but now, he can't even deceive himself.

    The author has something to say: "You can deceive others if you act well, but you can only deceive yourself if you act badly." ——Adapted from Su Tong's "Wives and Concubines in Groups" Those who like BE can stop here, and the next plot will be more bloodyroutine.

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