Chapter 58 All the way to the same goal

1 I met Qing Zhao in Dali, Yunnan.It was a low point in my life, no job, bored, living in a small hotel owned by a friend.There is nothing to do every day, just to pass the time.My friend graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts and once had a slight reputation in the oil painting industry.Even if he decided to quit the arena and just want to make a living in a small hotel, he is still a talented painter in my eyes.He has lived in seclusion in Dali for many years. That day, he accompanied me to the market to buy vegetables, and suddenly told me that I saw a friend who was also here.She doesn't come here often.I want to introduce you to each other.He has always known that I don't want to socialize with strangers, and he must have his reasons for bringing it up this time.So I followed him to the front.

I saw a woman wearing a slanted button-up jacket that was no different from the locals, a dark green floral cotton cloth that was washed out, and handmade embroidered shoes.Wearing a Vietnamese bun and wearing a complicated silver bracelet.The skin is thick and dark, without any makeup.It's very lively around.Holding an umbrella, under the umbrella is a well-behaved toddler boy, with a big golden dog squatting beside him.She had just moved a basket of apples to the back seat of the car, stood up and lit a cigarette for herself in the rain. My friend said, Qingzhao, are you here to buy groceries today?He had an air of respect for her.

She said yes.Her voice is very soft, her eyes look calm and composed, but when she laughs, she has a kind of childlike innocence and shyness.It's hard to feel her true nature in the moment. This is my friend from Beijing.Can you take her to your Haidong house to have a look next time? sure.welcome. After meeting and greeting each other like this, she got in the car and left. I didn't tell my friend that I knew her.Once a controversial writer, she suddenly stopped writing anything and disappeared from everyone's eyes and mouths.Nobody knew where she was or what she was doing.In short, in the writing circle, there is no such person at all.In the past four or five years, there has been no news.For publishers or readers, there are endless new books and new writers, and there are always turbulent waves.When a person is missing, it is easy to forget.I just happened to be in a bookstore and saw her collection of works on sale.Only now do I know that she left Beijing long ago.

A long time ago, by chance, I met her in Beijing.An end-of-year party for a major publishing house, some well-known authors and critics are invited to dinner.Many people actively communicated and chatted, but she sat alone in a corner, like a visitor from another planet, without any barriers to the noisy scenes and strangers around her, but there was no step of communication at all.Without saying a word, he ate in silence.Everything around seems to be just the scenery of the road, but it needs to be seen and heard, and there is no need to get involved or put it in the heart. I imagined that if I mentioned that party to her, she would probably frown slightly in thought, and then simply say, Sorry, I don't remember.Of course she won't remember me.Nor would she remember anyone who randomly appeared by her side.Although she looks so humble and easy, without any arrogance.But this kind of arrogance in his bones makes people feel pressured.Because it's a very categorical self-knowledge.More intense and frustrating than any form of arrogance.

My friend whispered beside me that she came earlier than me.I used to be her reader.I clean up the bookshelf every year, and those few old books are still on it. I said, how does it feel to see my idol now become a housewife with children. He said he was very pleased.Her choices are good.You think when anyone, male or female, approaching 40, just turned 15, in high school, or finished her Ph.D., reads a young woman's novel, she's misunderstood How much is the possibility of misreading... Any writer is lonely. I have never been to Haidong.But I already plan to go back to Beijing.Almost the entire lengthy rainy season has been spent in the small hotel.In the living room, there are often a group of Japanese men mixed lying on the kang, wrapped in quilts, watching extremely boring football, and playing billiards one after another.I was hungry in the middle of the night, so I went to the barbecue stalls on the street to buy leeks and octopus skewers.Dali's barbecue is spicy and salty.Sitting on a small bench by the side of the stall, the proprietress sometimes came over to chat a few words, because my reticence also felt dull.