(a)

Before I knew it, I had been writing this story for a whole year. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

I'm much closer to you now than I was at the beginning. It's almost like you're standing in front of my eyes. It feels so warm in my heart.

When there is nothing to do, I often watch you quietly here.

I don't want to write anything, I just want to look at you in the story quietly.

It's like when you were asleep, I watched you breathe evenly.

I've written more than 600 chapters on this site, and I've been running so fast that I haven't even enjoyed the warmth of these stories myself.

So, I put on my freshly washed hair, and from the first part, I watched how I went deeper and deeper into the forbidden area of death little by little, and finally, I reappeared you.

The world is silent.

(b)

Do you remember this melody? This piano piece is Debussy's "Moonlight"

We used to listen to it together when we sat on the roof.

I put the tape recorder I used to learn English at the top of the roof and listened to the tape version of Debussy.

This is one of our favorite songs.

The tape was recorded in an electric classroom, and there was no label on it, so we didn't know what the name of the music was.

After listening to it, we each described what we heard in the melody.

You say you hear the plump waters, the gurgling waters, the gentle ripples, and the calm midnight waves.

I said I heard the wind blowing through the woods, and I heard an oil lamp burning in an old temple. When the wick burned out, the flame went out. Moonlight shone through the latticework onto the ground. The shadows of the branches on the window paper were gently shaking.

You say, there is no one in the melody of the scene. Because it's empty, it's particularly moving.

You say that even if there is someone, that person must be alone. There are two people at most, and they will be very small.

You say, even though it's small, it's not as good as no man's land.

I said, even if there is no one in the scene, there are still people.

I said, "There are people, but no one can see him."

When you hear that, you look at me. You say, "What about people?" ”

I said, "In the breath of all things." ”

I said, "In the middle, there is a little bit of clear and conscious contemplation. Just like a newborn baby, although I can't distinguish the difference between the world and me, after all, I still vaguely know that there is something in all things that can come out and look at everything itself. ”

I said, "It's on the edge of nothingness, swaying and flickering." ”

I said, "It's like the last 1/4 of a second before waking up." ”

You listen, smile, and then you continue to look at me.

I looked down and said, "Look at people like this again." ”

You say, "Don't like it?" ”

You say, "Whenever my heart is touched by you but I don't know how to say it, I can only look at you like this." ”

I listened, but didn't speak.

You say, "If you don't like it, you won't watch it anymore." ”

I whispered, "I've seen it all." ”

You say, "Can you still watch it later?" ”

I whispered, "Hmm." Only you can. ”

(iv)

In those days, we talked a lot about music. We talk about classical music and pop music.

You say you like both and don't have a particular preference. You say, there is only a difference in time.

You say you'll enjoy different music at different times. When you're as vast as the starry sky tonight, you love classical music. And when you feel like you're not so lofty and deep, and you feel like you're more specific and nuanced, you like pop music.

When you finish speaking, you ask me if that's the case.

I said, yes. I like both, too. I don't even think it's the same.

I said, I think, classical music is the best pop music that has been accumulated over the years in the wash of time. Because they have a structure of the human heart that transcends time, they can resonate in a long time. It is a bridge between those who have died and those who have not, a bridge between the time we cannot go back and the time we are leaving. I said that when I have a lot in my heart but don't know how to express it, I like classical music because it will express it for me.

And when I have a lot in my heart and I know how to express it, and I'm also very anxious to express it, I like pop music. Because it confirms and echoes my expression.

When I'm not sure if I can express myself, I like both. Sometimes I like this, sometimes I like that, and it depends on what I want to express. They will resonate with the same structure that I want to express, and thus help it to be born into the world like a midwife.

When you hear this, you ask me, "So, what kind of expression do you have in mind when you listen to this melody?" ”

I look at you and I say, "Well, it's up to me who is listening to it with me." ”

You say, "What if it's me?" ”

I lowered my head, and I whispered, "Well, it depends on how you listen to me." ”

A burst of electricity passes through you.

There was a nervous silence. Inside there was our rapid breathing, a little panic, and, a lot of sweetness.

You take a deep breath.

You look up at the sky.

You say, "Recently, there has been a power outage in this area to repair the line, and it's almost time for the power outage." ”

Say, "Let us go down." ”

Then you led me down the steps of the little ladder step by step.

(5)

When we got back to your room, I came down the last step and turned my back against the small ladder.

I leaned there, and I looked at you standing in front of me.

The moonlight shone through the skylight.

You look at me as you step back to the table. Your hands fumble behind you as you reach my sports backpack.

You walk back, and you whisper, "It's time to go home." ”

Then, you help me carry the bag on my back.

You say, "Help me lock the door, I'll go get the car first." ”

I watched you walk to the door, and when you pulled the doorknob, I said to you, "We forgot about it." ”

You turn around and say, "What? ”

I said, "Tape recorder." We forgot to take the tape recorder off it. ”

I said, "It's still playing music." ”

You say, "I'll go up and get it." ”

I said, "Why don't you let it sing there tonight until the tape is over." You go to bed and take it down and charge it, and bring it to me tomorrow morning. ”

You say, "Okay." Such a beautiful melody, such a beautiful moonlight, let it play for a while. When we can't hear it, there must be many lives in the universe that can hear and echo. ”

(f)

That day, when we said goodbye, you said to me, "I'll finish your art homework for you at noon." ”

At night, I opened my art workbook under the lamp and saw the sketch tree that the teacher asked me to draw, and you had already drawn it for me.

I never knew what to do with the light and shadow of the trees, and I didn't think I could see it.

You've handled it so much better than I did. You are always more sensitive to light than I am.

But I looked at it for a while, and I saw something else in the light.

I stared for a moment, and I turned the book upside down.

In the messy lines of the leaves outlined by the thick black pencil, I saw that you had written some scribbled words faintly at an angle with a very thin pencil. They are scattered among the branches and leaves of the tree, and they are disorganized. When I found them all, I found that they were words like this: "Think about you yesterday."

- "Last night, I missed you so much. ”

I looked at these words with tears in my eyes.

Then I turned the pencils around and erased them with an eraser, one by one.

(g)

A friend asked in the circle of friends: "In November, the weather is getting colder. What have you done in the past year? Let's talk about it. ”

I've done a lot in the past year.

One of the most remarkable things is this: I finally wrote you back from death. (To be continued.) )