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Chapter 60
Chapter 60
"Wen Mo, I've never thought about it like this!" Huai Yan held his arm, the wound was throbbing with blood, as if the heartbeat accelerated by the severe pain came from here, Liu Hao took it from the crew. He stopped the bleeding and shouted to Liang Wenmo, "If Mr. Jiang hadn't rescued you, you would have been suffocated. Now instead of helping to deal with the wound, you are just messing around here! Do you have a conscience!"
"Just now let me die inside!" Liang Wenmo drank with red eyes, turned around and planned to go down the mountain, just in time to bump into director Hu Jiabin who hurried from the city.
"Hey, Mr. Liang!! Are you alright?" Hu Jiabin pinched Liang Wenmo's shoulder and looked up and down carefully, "I'm going to the city, how did I expect you to come here! It's still Xiao Pei and me. Said..."
"Cough, cough!" Liang Wenmo suddenly coughed, and Hu Jiabin realized that he had made a slip of the tongue. When he looked up and saw Huai Yan was injured, he hurriedly trotted over, and after a glance, he gasped, "Mr. Jiang's injury is so deep. How did you do it?"
"It was scratched by an iron nail." Liu Hao was very anxious. "The nail must have rusted after a long time. I have to go to the hospital immediately and get Titenis anti-toxin..."
"God... there's a war going on in the city! Did you see the fire? The bomb was dropped on the mountainside, so the house on the set collapsed..." Hu Jiabin's bald head was wet with snow, "So, let's see, Everyone who is okay, hid in the air-raid shelter, and just now, a prop master had his toe broken, and Xiao Liu drove the car to the hospital in the city!"
"Director Hu..." Xiao Pei frowned and said, "Oil prices are soaring these days, you didn't want to refuel that day, you forgot? There's not enough left in the fuel tank to drive to the city."
"Put the oil from several cars together, but you can't make a mess." Hu Jiabin nervously glanced at Huai Yan's pale face, but at this moment someone whispered: "The city is so dangerous... let's go. Will something happen?"
The empty field suddenly became very quiet, the sound of artillery and gunfire could be heard in the distance, and the snow was getting heavier. After honking the horn twice, everyone raised their heads. Liang Wenmo was sitting in the driver's seat. He remained sullen and said angrily, "I'm going to the city. If you want to hitch a ride, hurry up."
"Mr. Liang, I apologize to you, you are a good person!" Liu Hao was not polite, he pulled Huai Yan directly into the back seat, and everyone carried the prop master, who was grinning in pain, into the car. Liu Hao was in the passenger seat. After sitting down, Liang Wenmo stepped on the accelerator and drove out of the mountains.
There are dozens of kilometers from the filming set to the hospital, the slippery mountain road is not easy to walk, and the city is full of traces of street fighting. Fortunately, they did not encounter the troops of both sides, and Liang Wenmo sent them to the hospital and opened the door. After leaving in the car, Liu Hao ran and went through the formalities for Huai Yan and the props master. After Huai Yan's wound was properly treated, he sat down on the chair in the ward sweating profusely.
"Brother Hao... I'm too troublesome for you today..." Huai Yan poured him a glass of water with his uninjured hand, and Liu Hao hurriedly took the thermos in his hand, "Mr. Jiang, I'm your bodyguard... you today Injury is my dereliction of duty..."
"The anti-toxin has been shot, and the wound has been sutured. It's nothing serious." Huai Yan lowered his eyelashes and silently stared at his gauze-wrapped arm.
"Mr. Jiang, I don't know if I should say something." Liu Hao paused for a while, then looked up at Huai Yan and said, "Liang Wenmo is probably hiding something from you..."
"I know... maybe he didn't write novels these days." There was no fluctuation on Huai Yan's face, he looked at the gray and gloomy sky outside the ward, and the snow had already fallen like twigs.
Liang Wenmo drove around the deserted streets of Kaifeng. Because of the war, the doors of every house were closed. The electric lights emitted a sickly white light. The snow flakes danced like moths under the lights. Liang Wenmo drove the car on the street. As he stopped, he felt like a lonely ghost.
There was always a leather smell in the new car. Liang Wenmo habitually took out the perfume bottle and sprayed it twice, but he was nauseated by the mixed smell of the two.
He staggered out of the car, and the fresh cold air poured into his abdominal cavity. He took a few deep breaths, and his throat was freezing.
"The girl in the boudoir is sullen and sorrowful like the evening of spring. I hope that there will be no good news such as good news. Who am I to complain to? The flowers and leaves and vegetables left in the air after the spring."
In the stagnant streets, there was a faint sound of singing. Liang Wenmo was used to listening to Beijing opera. He always felt that the language of Yu opera was indecent and the makeup was not good, but at this moment in the cold and windy night, A few words of singing, but it really brings some human emotions, and it coincides with my own mood.
Liang Wenmo stepped on the snow and walked deep into the street. It turned out that there were many teahouses and theaters on this street, which were only places for people to relax. The intricate footprints made everyone evacuated early. Only one teahouse had the door half-closed, casting the dim light of the oil lamp. When Liang Wenmo approached, the singer inside was sobbing softly, Liang Wenmo couldn't help it. With a smile, it was really "eight out of ten Yu operas cry", he didn't hesitate, tapped the door knocker twice, and pushed the door in.
This is an old teahouse. There are shabby benches lined up in disorder under the stage, and the curtain is crimson, which makes the pink clothes of the people on the stage turn crimson. When the person heard the knock, he stopped singing and looked at Liang Wenmo walked in, as if he was frightened. After a while, he walked lightly and slowly, as if stepping on a lotus flower, and said softly, "Guest officer, the teahouse is closed this afternoon..."
Liang Wenmo took a look, this is a very young male, about sixteen or seven years old, with a faint scent of rouge on his body, no makeup, eyebrows like a crescent moon, eyes as clear as autumn water The black and white are clear, and the crystal tears still hang on his face, and his eyes are a little like Huai Yan. Although it is not as beautiful as the latter, it is still beautiful and beautiful.
The man in extravagant clothes didn't talk to him, just stared at him seriously, the boy was so ashamed that he wiped his face with his cuffs, lowered his eyes and whispered, "Keguan... It's not peaceful outside, why haven't you gone back so late? Woolen cloth?"
"It's not peaceful outside, aren't you still practicing here?" Liang Wenmo walked to the middle row of benches and took a seat, rubbing his hands and saying, "Why is it so cold, isn't there a stove in the hall?"
"The stove is too small, and the heat cannot be transmitted to the stage, so it will be extinguished." The boy came over, rolled up his long sleeves, added a few pieces of charcoal with iron scissors, and ignited the wood and threw it in. The fire gradually grew stronger.
Liang Wenmo saw that he was so thin, his waist was too thin to hold, and there were still some blue marks on the side of his snow-white wrist. He knew that he had suffered a lot, so he asked with some compassion: "How old are you, what is your name?"
"Seventeen, you can just call me Ling Chuang." Ling Chuang brought him the tea set, and Liang Wenmo stopped him, "Do you have any wine here?"
Ling Chuang opened his eyes and glanced at Liang Wenmo in surprise, and then took out a bottle of Dukang from the cabinet. Liang Wenmo, like a treasure, opened it, poured it into a teacup, and started drinking.
"How many times can you sing for me? These are all for you."
Liang Wenmo took out a stack of banknotes from his wallet and put them on the table. Ling Chuang was so frightened that he waved his hands and said that he couldn't use them.
"It's nothing more than peach flour noodles, almond eyes and cherry lips, even if you don't paint. I just heard it, you have a good voice, and the acapella photos have a charm." Liang Wenmo waved his hand nonchalantly, and Ling Chuang asked him to do some drama. He said that he tooI haven't heard many Yu operas, just sing at will.
"Nine end of spring returns to apricot blossoms, the swan geese flew to Ziyan'er, and the butterflies flew over the wall..."
Ling Chuang looked at him and returned to the stage to sing "Peach Blossom Temple".