He Jiamin said, "What did you dream about?"

Zhang Che said: "War, those people stabbed me in the chest with spears. Those who died, the soul surrounds me. ”

He Jiamin took out a piece of paper and a pen and said, "Write them all down, or draw them, or you can sing them." ”

Zhang Che said: "How to write?"

He Jiamin said: "Whatever you want." ”

Zhang Che looked at the burning candle flame, the candle flame reflected He Jiamin's face, and then he picked up the pen and began to write-

War, red blood spreads across the earth.

Panic and fear are intertwined.

Iron weapons clashed, and the men stabbed their enemies with anger and hatred into their chests.

Those who died, their souls floated in the sky

They surround me and haunt me

They cried, they laughed, they shouted at me

I felt like my heart was shattering, shattering into a sky full of red blood.

Zhang Che's hands were trembling, from the time he first started to write, until he finished writing, his hands were trembling.

He handed the paper to He Jiamin.

He Jiamin smiled after reading it and said, "I didn't expect you to be a poet." ”

Zhang Che scratched his head and said, "Doctor He, don't laugh." ”

Zhang Che looked at He Jiamin's face, I don't know why under the reflection of the candlelight, He Jiamin's face is more beautiful than during the day, to be precise, until this moment, he looked at He Jiamin seriously. He Jiamin has always been Zhang Che's attending doctor, and he meets him almost every day, but he never seems to have seen him properly. She was his attending doctor, and it seemed that there was nothing wrong with changing the attending doctor before that.

"He Jiamin. Zhang Che said.

"Uh-huh. He Jiamin nodded.

Zhang Che remembered that this was the first time he called her name, and he used to call her doctor.

"I'm scared. Zhang Che said.

"I know. He Jiamin smiled and nodded.

"I, I ......" Zhang Che wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the words.

He Jiamin placed the poem on the candle flame, and when the flame burned the paper out, she said, "Now your fear has been burned out." The things you're afraid of won't come to you anymore. ”

He Jiamin smiled again and said, "It's a pity that such a good poem." ”

Zhang Che looked at He Jiamin, and his face flushed crimson.

He Jiamin said: "You can write another poem, write one to me." ”

Zhang Che said: "Ah, this is also part of the treatment. ”

He Jiamin said: "No, this is my personal behavior. ”

Zhang Che said: "You really think I write well. ”

He Jiamin nodded desperately and said, "Okay, very good." ”

Zhang Che The fear in his heart completely dissipated at this moment, and at this moment there was only one person in his heart, a girl, and the girl looked at him with a smile.

At this moment, it was as if everything in this world was gone, and only he and the girl in front of him were left in this world.

At this time, He Jiamin stood up and walked slowly towards him.

【He Jiamin】

My name is Jiamin He and I am a psychiatrist, and now I am in a room with a table, a bed, and two chairs.

In addition to me, there is another patient in the room who is my patient, his name is Zhang Che.

From the first time I saw him, I thought he was very special, and the people who came to the medical tent either had broken legs or feet, at least a few fingers, or lost an ear. He alone is not missing anything.

There was a slight puncture wound on the body, but it was also fine in two or three days. But this is not the most important thing, the most important thing is the wound in his heart, which is estimated to be long, long time will not heal.

I also heard in the air that he was a particularly heroic soldier, and one man could kill ten people in an instant. What kind of scene it was, I can't imagine as a woman.

But the one I know is not like this, his eyes are not as murderous and determined as I imagined, but reveal a kind of vulnerability and helplessness. It's like a newborn baby. He couldn't be hurt even the slightest, and even the slightest injury could kill him.

He spoke in a very low voice, almost like a scholar who wanted to study to gain fame, not at all like a soldier who had killed people.

Now I'm at his house, in his room.

He wrote a poem, or rather, turned the fear in his heart into a poem.

When I read this poem, I always felt that it was red, written in blood, as if the souls of so many people were surrounding him, trying to pull him into hell, into that bottomless abyss.

The fear, violence, and helplessness revealed in the poem are far beyond my imagination.

But other than that, I don't know why I was drawn to this poem.

I casually glanced at him again, his eyes still radiating fear and helplessness.

By the time I looked at him, my face was already starting to get hot.

I kept asking myself, "Am I in love with him?" Am I in love with him, am I in love with him......

What I thought I said to him changed when I got to the point, and I said, "Write another poem, write me one." ”

【Zhang Che】

It's been two days since that night.

But I still can't forget the girl, or rather, my doctor.

She looked at me with a smile and listened patiently to my chatter. And I was like a madman, a madman full of fear.

But on that night two days ago, I looked at her, and the candle flame was shining in her face.

She burned the gibberish I had written on the paper, and at that moment, perhaps it was an illusion, I felt a lot more relieved in my heart.

I remember what she said to me, "Write another poem, write me one." ”

It may have been a joke, but I haven't been able to forget it for the past two days.

So I picked up my pen and, after throwing four or five pieces of paper, finally wrote a not-so-rotten poem—

Your eyes sparkle like the evening sun.

The gentle sun shone on my broken heart.

The darkness, the fear, the restlessness deep inside me

All are shining with you, and you are like a spring breeze, caressing me.

Leaves a faint inexplicable floral scent.

The souls of the dead have been haunting me.

Until your appearance, in gentle language

A scorching path was carved out in my heart.

I looked at the poem and read it three times. I think this thing is still not good. But it's good compared to before.

I thought about my childhood dream, and I forgot that it was my exact age, and I forgot why I had this idea, that is, I wanted to be a poet.

But in the end, I gave up, because I always felt that I lacked that little feeling, and no matter how much I searched, I couldn't find it.

【He Jiamin】

It's night, and it's been three days since I last entered this room.

The candle burned on the table, and I read the poem he had written to me by the faint light of the fire.

I said, "I didn't expect you to have some poetic talent. ”

Zhang Che said: "Don't make fun of me. ”

I looked at him, the candle flame reflecting his face. He smiled shyly.

I read the poem carefully again, and my heart raced.

I asked, "Are you alone?"

Zhang Che said: "What?"

I said, "It's just that I'm not in love, I'm not married." ”

Zhang Che said: "No. ”

I smiled and said, "Does that feel to me?"

Zhang Che hadn't answered yet, but I noticed joy in his eyes.

I rushed over and sealed his mouth with my lips.

I hope my judgment is correct.