Chapter 95 Don’t imagine pink elephants

Chapter 95 Don’t imagine pink elephants

“Classmate Chen Qingluo, is everything you wrote in your essay true?”

“…Really.”

“So, you really had a foot injury after being run over by a bicycle while drunk. The second uncle of a migrant worker who suffered an amputation due to oral ulceration and studied hard to get admitted to Nanjing University? "

"...Classmate Wang Zixu." Chen Qingluo turned around - to this day, he still remembers her sparkling eyes, as dark as the night and as bright as the stars.

“What’s wrong?”

"You are a fool."

There are always two young people doing nothing at the beginning of the story. It is best if the weather is sunny, the wind is soft, and everything looks so bright.

Deep in the deep memory palace of Wang Zixu, there is a very bright place - he and Chen Qingluo walked on the plastic track of the playground one after another. The plastic track was red and the sky was blue.

Chen Qingluo wears sports short-sleeves, with her arms exposed outside the top like mutton fat, her lower body is in blue school uniform trousers, her ankles are thin and cute, and her high ponytail is dangling in the air, which makes her look a little natural. So she called him a fool, and he didn't feel angry.

“I’ve all told you that writing essays is micro-fabrication, writing novels is large-scale fabrication, and writing classics is super-fabrication. Now that I’ve talked about this, you still ask me if I have such a second uncle. You idiot, do you think that Did Maupassant really have an uncle named Jules? "

"What? Jules is fake?"

"...You win. "

The two of them walked for a while, getting further away from the other students. Wang Zixu asked again: "But what you wrote feels so real, it's like it really happened. It can't be so real when you make it up..."

"Why is it impossible?"

"Huh?"

"I asked you why it's impossible?"

Chen Qingluo turned to look at Wang Zixu, probably because she saw that his expression looked very stupid, her face fell, and she reached out her hand and patted him lightly on the forehead.

Before her fingertips landed on his forehead, she had already withdrawn her strength, so as far as Wang Zixu could feel, she just touched his head. Although the touch was very urgent.

Chen Qingluo said: "Let me ask you, are there pink elephants in the world?"

Wang Zixu said: "I think maybe there is not. Even if there is, it is definitely not pure pink."

"Then can you imagine a pure pink elephant?"

"...Yes."

"Have you ever dreamed of flying in the sky?"

"I have."

"How did you fly in the dream?"

Wang Zixu opened his hands like a swallow: "With a wave of your hands, you can glide in the air."

"Can you fly like this in reality?"

"No."

Chen Qingluo tucked her hair behind her ears: "I'm telling you, idiot, human imagination is very powerful, powerful enough to create something out of nothing."

"I don't have a second uncle. If I had a second uncle, he might work in an auto repair parts factory. His hair is sparse, he suffers from frozen shoulder, his hands are covered with calluses, his fingers are always black, and he always smells of machine oil. He likes to eat meat, watch football, and rainy days...

"You see, as long as you continue to enrich his details, sooner or later he will become a living person, as if he is living around us. This is the power of imagination. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Wang Zixu said, "But if he has frozen shoulder, he cannot like rainy days, because when it rains, his shoulders will hurt."

Chen Qingluo said: "I deliberately left a loophole to test you. Well, you passed."

Wang Zixu said: "Really? But I feel like you just It's just that I didn't make it up well." "How could I not make it up well? Even if I didn't make it up well, it's impossible for you to find out. You are obviously very smart, but how can you be so stupid sometimes..."

"The red color on Chen Qingluo's face is so light that it is almost invisible in the sun. It is pink and beautiful.

Here, a branch of memory appeared: one theory is that Wang Zixu was dumbfounded, and he did not come back to his senses until Chen Qingluo rolled her eyes hard; the other theory is that Wang Zixu was not dumbfounded, and looked very calm on the surface, but until the evening self-study to do the test paper, he was still wondering whether she was blushing.

But no matter what the situation, Chen Qingluo didn’t really blush. He could imagine a pink elephant, but no matter what, he couldn't imagine a blushing Chen Qingluo.

…

Wang Zixu opened his eyes and first looked at his phone. It was 6:50 in the morning, a little later than yesterday.

He got up decisively, quickly got dressed, and knocked on the script writers’ doors one by one.

"Get up quickly and exercise, time waits for no one."

Every time there was a knock on the door, painful groans came from the door. Very fun. It seems that they have not adapted to this high-intensity life and need more exercise.

When he arrived at Ye Lan’s door, he didn’t knock on the door and went straight downstairs to do warm-up exercises.

It took half an hour for people to finish washing, and they were all sparsely gathered on the ground, and their whole bodies seemed to be falling apart and shapeless. Under Wang Zixu's devilish urging, they ran toward the distance listlessly.

At nine o'clock, Ye Lan also woke up. He hurriedly put on his clothes and stockings, put on foundation, patted his face, drew his eyebrows and permed his hair. When he came out, Wang Zixu was still writing his essay.

While baking bread for himself, Ye Lan took out his mobile phone to read the news, while Wang Zixu's hands kept tapping on the keyboard.

She came out with the baked bread and sat down opposite Wang Zixu. While eating, she said, "Wow, the highway collapsed again. I don't dare to take the highway anymore."

Wang Zixu didn't answer, and she didn't care. He cleared his throat and continued to announce: "Local news in Xihe, Chen Qingluo and Ning Chunyan will participate in the Xihe Literary Festival and serve as judges."

Wang Zixu's typing hand froze and hung in the air.

Ye Lan looked at him with a mischievous smile: "What, are you excited? I heard that these two are the most beautiful beauties in the literary world. If you write well in the essay, you might have a chance to get in touch with them."

"Oh." Wang Zixu lowered his head and continued typing.

Ye Lan said: “Do you know them?”

“I don’t know them.”

“Then you should work hard to write the essay. Well done, they will give you the award in person, and the entire Xihe literary world will envy you. "

"Don't talk to me, I'm very busy now."

Ye Lan's nose wrinkled.

She stuffed the last piece of bread into her mouth, clapped her hands, walked up to Wang Zixu, pointed like a knife, and stabbed Wang Zixu in the ribs.

“I thought you were going to sleep all day today, but you only slept for a few hours? Why are you still so energetic?”

“I slept for four and a half hours. That’s enough.”

Ye Lan then poked him: "Did you carry me upstairs yesterday?"

Wang Zixu said: "No. The poet carried you up."

Ye Lan said: "The poet said it was you."

I don’t know when Sartre ran over, laughing happily at the side: "Haha, I just said she would find trouble with you!"

Wang Zixu ignored him and said to Ye Lan : "The poet is lying."

"Nonsense, women don't lie to women."

Sartre sat down next to him and told him: "She only I just want to find a chance to talk to you. Women’s emotional needs are so strange.”

“I know.”

Ye Lan asked: “You. What do you know? "

"I know you were not drunk yesterday. How can anyone get drunk with half a box of beer?"

Ye Lan blushed, slapped him on the back, and whispered:

"But I blew it in one breath. And I don’t really have much ability to drink. By the way, don’t change the topic, you were the one who carried me upstairs yesterday, right?"

Wang Zixu lowered his head to type, and answered her with the remaining capacity of his brain. : "The poet is a writer of novels."

"Yes, so?"

"Don't believe the words of a person who writes novels. They tell lies as soon as they open their mouth."

"Aren't you also a writer of novels?"

Sartre reminded: "You performed very well yesterday and scored very high with her. This level of perfunctory can no longer send her away. You must respond positively, otherwise she will pester you all day long."

Old Sartre's words were true. Wang Zixu finally gave up the struggle and looked up at Ye Lan: "Then let me tell the truth. Yesterday I helped you upstairs together with the poet. "

"It's okay to say no."

"It's mainly because you are heavy."

"Bah! You are as heavy as a pig!" Ye Lan flushed with anger.

After being angry for a while, she suddenly lost her anger and said, "I'm not here to trouble you, what are you afraid of? Actually, I want to thank you."

After a pause, she said: "I bought a new Tesla. The old Audi consumes a lot of gas and won't drive. Don't you have a car? When the new car comes on the market, I can lend you the old one to drive. Do you have a driver's license?"

"Yes. But I haven't used it much because I don't have a car." Wang Zixu said, "Thank you."

Ye Lan put his hand on his chest and said, "You're welcome, who told us to be partners now?"

"Oh. Okay." Wang Zixu showed no enthusiasm at all, which disappointed Ye Lan very much.

Ye Lan clasped his hands behind his back, lowered his head and looked at him for a long time, and asked:

"You only slept for four hours, is it really okay? There are still more than ten days to go, can you withstand it?"

Wang Zixu stared at the screen without stopping: "I don't know. My heart hurts a little now, and I also have tinnitus. But don't hurry up. No, I didn’t plan to write an essay, so I have to find time to write it. "

"You have to hold on to both hands, right? But you should pay attention to your health, I'm really afraid that you will die suddenly here."

Wang Zixu paused as he typed, and frowned, something seemed to puzzle him.

After a while, he looked back at Ye Lan: "Stretch out your hand."

"What for?" Ye Lan was frightened by the sudden command-like tone and took a step back.

“Stretch out.”

Ye Lan stretched out his hand, and Wang Zixu put his hand flat on hers: “My hand is not shaking?”

Ye Lan shook his head: "No."

"Stretch out the other hand."

Ye Lan obeyed blankly. She didn't even know why she was so obedient. Anyway, as soon as Wang Zixu stared at her, she had no idea of ​​resistance.

Wang Zixu stretched out his other hand and put it on hers: "Where's this one? Is it shaking?"

"No."

Wang Zixu's hand was warm and generous, while Ye Lan's was ice-cold. The two held their hands in the air for a moment. Wang Zixu retracted his palm.

"If your hands are not shaking, it means you are fine. You will not die in a while. It will not affect the coding."

"Where did you get the diagnosis method of a barefoot doctor?" Ye Lan rolled her eyes at him, her heart beating wildly.

“Aren’t you going to the company yet? You’re already late.”

“It’s okay, I’ll just say you have something to do and are delayed.”

"I will tell Zuo Ziliang that there is nothing wrong with me here."

"You bitch!"

Wang Zixu was about to drive them away. Ye Lan was embarrassed and annoyed. After cursing, he ran away, hid in his Audi four-wheel drive, and sat in the driver's seat, breathing heavily.

“It’s wrong, Ye Lan, it’s wrong... He must have noticed it, and he is feeling proud now.”

She turned the rearview mirror to herself He found that his face was flushed, and then he pointed at the mirror with a look of complaint and said:

"Why did you provoke him? He is a little prince, have you forgotten?"

She calmed down. Because the contrast between Wang Zixu's real person and his image is so great, she often forgets that he is actually very good at it. He has the potential to be a scumbag.

She was still frightened, and thought with some joy: Fortunately, he was married. Getting married is equivalent to sealing this guy away.

No matter what happens to his wife, thank his wife for her contribution to this world.

She started the car, and the car twisted crookedly like a worm, and then walked out of a straight line after reaching the road.

Sakura-chan and the others rushed to the car to say hello to the script writers who passed by.

Ye Lan lowered the window, and people shouted to her with a smile on their faces: "Is Mr. Ye gone?"

"Ah, yes." Ye Lan said, "I have to go back to work."

"Are you coming tonight? The barbecue at last night was pretty good."

Ye Lan waved: "I won't come, I won't come. I'm still suffering from a hangover right now. Playing like this every day, my body can't bear it."

"Oh..."

People drawled, very disappointed.

Ye Lan thought for a while, and then said: "I will come over to sleep tonight. If your water flow can still break the record today, I will treat you to a midnight snack."

"Yeah!" People cheered.

Ye Lan raised the car window, and people shouted from behind: "Mr. Ye, your seat belt is not buckled!"

...

In the apartment, Wang Zixu typed on the keyboard: "...Her hair was slightly messy, and there were light spots in her eyes..."

Sartre was lying on the table, Said: "You are a bit too much."

"What's wrong?"

"You can't write a satisfactory description, so you just start to tease the people around you for experiments, right?" Sartre said, "What should I do if problems arise?"

Although Sartre is a scumbag, he always hits the nail on the head.

Wang Zixu just wrote about a key point, but he still had no idea, so he took some action against Ye Lan. The reaction was quite satisfactory to him. But this also shows that his symptoms are about to spread into reality. That's why Sartre worried about him.

“I am not defending myself... The main thing is that I am really lacking in describing women’s demeanor. Chen Qingluo is wrong, and imagination has its limits. I can imagine a A very real man, but I can’t imagine such a real woman.

“Shen Qingfeng does a good job at this point. He can really express the heartbeat when writing about women, but I can’t. I don't have much contact with young people of the opposite sex. I have been numb for a long time, and I really don’t know what it feels like to have a heartbeat. ”

Sartre had a serious expression on his face: "No matter how insensitive you are, you can't make people in real life have feelings for you? Be careful of becoming a scumbag."

"Even if I become a scumbag, it's not your turn to say it, right?"

Sartre said: "And you can't go to a bar and find someone you don't know to flirt with? You don't understand that rabbits don't eat grass from their nests. ?”

“You know that rabbits don’t eat grass from their nests. What did you say yesterday?” Wang Zixu said, “Oh, don’t bother me. I really don’t have time now.”

Sartre said: “I would like to remind you that writing novels is important, but don’t let your life get involved.”

Wang Zixu said: "I don't think there is anything more important in the world than writing novels. Including my own life. Sartre, you have become secular."

"Awesome." Sartre sighed sincerely, "You are really a literary martyr. I hope your results will be worthy of your madness."

Wang Zixu said nothing. He never thought he was crazy. It’s just forced by life.

Sartre stopped talking. Just after the world was quiet for a while, Wang Zixu’s cell phone vibrated again.

When he looked at the screen, it was Hu Xiaoping from his work unit.

(End of this chapter)