"You take a look first, you can use it" Gu Lin went to the windowsill alone to smoke a cigarette, and the iron visors of the residents downstairs were cigarette butts accumulated over the years, which were all Gu Lin's masterpieces.

Half an hour passed, Xue Fei looked at Gu Lin's manuscript, the content of the manuscript was still a suspenseful crime novel in the same vein as "Forget Me Not", Xue Fei read the beginning, felt that this was a good story, and thought to herself, after all, I didn't see the wrong person, and the publishing house wanted to keep this bowl of rice.

"I think it's okay, if you don't give it to me earlier, maybe it's already a book," Xue Fei said angrily.

"You know what I wrote?"

"Suspense crime theme, I think it's okay, you should be able to pass the president's level, you originally wrote a murder debut."

"But if you think about this carefully, do you really think this method of killing is okay?"

The deceased in the book is a mystery fiction writer, because he hates the exclusion and oppression of his publishing house president, he uses guitar strings to kill him, the president loves to collect guitars, and for the sound quality of guitar playing, he will regularly change the strings of all guitars.

"I think it's a very interesting setting, using the strings of a guitar as a murder weapon." Xue Fei looked at Gu Lin.

Gu Lin decided to tell about his crazy idea

The male protagonist finally couldn't stand it anymore.,He's fortunately the publication of the novel was postponed.,Actually robbed and recommended by the youth inspiration of a female frequency writer.,He decided to kill the stupid president who didn't have a little artistic taste just to get money! He went to the president's house in the name of delivery.,He figured out his home.,The president is now living alone because he's divorced.,There's a lot of guitars in the president's house.,Those guitars in the collection will be replaced on a regular basis.,Today it's the day when the president's house changes the strings.,The hero knocked on the door of the president's house.,He thought about how he couldn't give in this time.,Angry and want to take the right to publish the novel.,He thought like this.,The force of the knock on the door in his hand became more and more unscathed.,As if to knock on this door.。 Gu Lin said that he had reached the realm of selflessness, as if he was possessed by the male protagonist in the book, with a fierce face, he came to the door of the bedroom, the bedroom and the living room were directly connected, and he knocked on the bedroom door, once, twice.

"Gu Lin!" Xue Fei let out a loud shout and pulled Gu Lin back, "Don't you keep writing this kind of crime novel, and you're delirious when you write it!" Hahahaha" Although Xue Fei said jokingly, since Gu Lin was down, Gu Lin has been writing alone, and it is all that kind of messy killing, supernatural, normal people can't bear it, and that incident has always been Gu Lin's nightmare.

"The president opened the door of the house, and sure enough, he was changing the strings of his baby guitar," Gu Lin slowly told his story on ......the coffee table

"The hero is a weak man in his bones, and most of the people who write essays are very weak, very different, those who live by words, it seems that they can hardly live in this society"

"President, you see, my new novel wasn't meant to be published," the man asked in a quiet, tentative voice.

"Didn't I tell you, people nowadays like youth romance, don't we have to follow the trend? So, our publishing house will focus on youth literature in the next step, and now Xiaoxiao still likes the realistic things you write, brother, you can understand more. ”

It's hard for a man to speak, the words have been said so dead, and there's no need to be boring to talk about yourself, "What about my novel?"

"Ahem, my brother will give you tens of thousands of dollars first, go out for a trip, after all, do you create every day, endlessly, don't you want to live." The pot-bellied president couldn't help but laugh when he looked at the unkempt man in front of him in order to create, people are really different.

"So when will my book be published?"

"Brother, don't ask, I just don't know, how can physical books still be popular now, don't ink, want me to send you?"

The president looked at the man and didn't answer, so he went back to the chair to get the guitar strings, and the man walked slowly towards the door, looking lonely.

"Brother, listen to me, life is like this, you only go through that hurdle to find that the days are passing round by round, look at those graduates one by one, look at those writers from one session at a time, you can't eat this meal by relying on the old way, do you understand?" The president didn't speak loudly, and he sneered after speaking, and the hot water kettle on the stove was screaming.

The man stopped, turned around, and strode along.

The president was still fiddling with the strings, and he didn't reply to his head, "What's wrong with my brother, something fell"

The man picked up a string on the ground and put it on the president's neck, the strings of the guitar were white, and it should be one or two strings at a glance, the man strangled it fiercely, the fat president struggled, one hand wanted to pull the strings on the neck, and the other hand hit the man, the strings were too thin, and the president's neck was stuck together, the man was punched several times, and the glasses were broken, but the man didn't let go, the president struggled violently from the beginning to slowly lose consciousness, and urine flowed all over the ground at the crotch, The blood on his neck was oozing with blood from the strings.

Until the president had been dead for about ten minutes, he still maintained the movement of strangling him, as if he suddenly came to a trance, put down the strings in his hand, and a deep mark was strangled on his hand.

"Hey, Gu Lin, why do I have such a strong sense of substitution when I listen to this story." Xue Fei of course refers to Gu Lin's relationship with the president of the publishing house in real life.

"I don't dare to kill." Gu Lin smiled bitterly, "I just conceived it like this, don't think about it too much, but I haven't given you my manuscript for a reason" Gu Lin's expression became solemn when he talked about his stranded manuscripts. Xue Fei also understands that this may be the reason why Gu Lin has not published works for so long, and she is not in a hurry to ask, Xue Fei is engaged in publishing, and since she brought Gu Lin to become famous, she has also brought all kinds of writers, she knows that not everyone can hold this job by relying on words to eat, behind every writer and writer, more or less have experienced great trauma and grief, these perennial pains can easily make a person's heart become sick, and people under the distortion of their hearts need the dispatch of art, music, literature, painting, In the final analysis, it is just the dispatch of the artist, just like the past she knows about Gu Lin, and she can't bear to talk about it.

The man returned to reality from a trance, his hand was strangled by the strings of the excessive pain, obviously there was no such pain just now, the pain of people when they were excited seemed to be blurred, the man thought calmly, he filled the bathtub with water, moved the desktop air conditioner to the bathroom, and immersed the body in the water, which wasted his great strength, he is a crime novelist, in order to write crime novels he has studied a lot of murder methods, the refrigeration of the air conditioner is turned on, the water is used to isolate oxygen, and the low temperature prevents bacteria, This can conceal the time of death, the man was unexpectedly not flustered, you must know that he was once a person who had regretted killing a cat for a long time, but now he can do it without changing his face to take a person's life, he is almost crazy obsessed with art, writing is not only a skill for himself to make a living, he can be poor in order to write books, but in his eyes, art will eventually return to the persistence of generations, and he is unwilling to accept the corruption of the market, and he will never compromise. ”

The more Gu Lin talked, the more emotional she became, Xue Fei saw it in her eyes, she knew Gu Lin's pursuit of literature, such a pursuit, literature as a belief was infinitely magnified in Gu Lin's novels, and anyone who heard it would have a kind of tragedy of a strong man breaking his wrist, but I don't know if those who are committed to literature now can serve this bowl of rice.

"The president's body was put into the bathtub, the toilet was also locked, the air conditioner was hit to the lowest temperature, and now the man has to start dealing with the traces of his own scene, which is nothing more than the restoration of the scene, the removal of fingerprints, to prevent his own hair from falling, he also dealt with the president's incontinence before his death, and the broken glasses are also very easy to clean up because they are made of gum, and there is no trace left, this writer who writes about murder knows these processes well, and the man's face showed a fanatical look, He suddenly felt that the beauty of his literature was repeating itself in himself, that he was not only a writer, but also an actor, showing the reader, performing to the audience—the art of crime! The man went in and out of the room, touched the doorknob, knocked on the door, and also made a sofa, and in the process of fierce struggle, he moved the coffee table, but fortunately did not break any glass products, which saved a lot of time for the man to eliminate the traces, and the next thing is how to hide the murder weapon, the wound on the president's corpse can easily judge the murder weapon, how to deal with the murder weapon? The man first put the guitar that the president was just changing back to its original state, and then put the unfinished guitar strings in the fixed position outside the door to collect waste, the man wanted to take away the murderous strings, but it was not artistic at all, the performer did not give a hint, that is, the man could not accept it in the simplest way of destroying evidence, his novel creation needs a big open and closed ending, and the battle of wits between criminals and police is the highlight of suspense crime novels! The man hid the strings in the tube of a fluorescent bulb. ”

"I think it's well written, and it's ready to be published." Xue Fei listened to Gu Lin's narration and expressed her appreciation from the bottom of her heart, "If you can pay more attention to the sick heart caused by this novelist's pursuit of the ultimate in art, I think it will be even more outstanding!" ”

"But I don't think so, I don't think I can convince myself that this story is not real enough." Gu Lin was determined. Xue Fei and Gu Lin are used to it, and they also understand his daily life, Gu Lin is an extremely rational person, when she and Gu Lin watched the movie together, the audience laughed wildly around the funny scenes in the movie, but he didn't, he thought about what kind of greasy and obscenity of the bigwigs who industrialized the film behind these shots, such extreme rationality made Gu Lin unable to believe his characters to a large extent, even if those brilliant writing techniques made the characters come to life, but he still felt that this is not good, that is too fake.

"This is like a hurdle in Gu Lin's heart." Xue Fei remembered the sentence in Gu Lin's book: "This is like a hurdle, only after this hurdle do you find that the days pass round by round." Xue Fei finally decided to ask the question that haunted her and had been hidden for many years but didn't dare to mention it:

"Gu Lin, then tell me why you think you were real when you wrote "Forget-me-not"?"

Gu Lin was silent for a long time, and then took out a cigarette from the cigarette case, "Because the story of that novel is true, and the method of killing is also real, and the person who killed is my father." ”

Xue Fei had long expected that it must have something to do with that incident, but when Gu Lin personally told the source of the story of "Forget Me Not", she was still shocked.

Seeing Xue Fei drive away, Gu Lin on the windowsill threw the cigarette butts on the iron visor of the downstairs household, he felt a little relieved, and became closer to Xue Fei, Xue Fei is not only his editor, he has long been his best friend, originally Gu Lin actually had a hazy love for Xue Fei, but when Xue Fei married Tong Jiagongzi, he was just a novel writer who had just improved, and he didn't dare to have that kind of thought. Gu Lin asked Xue Fei to take the manuscript away, no matter how artistic he is, he also has to eat, and he can't help Xue Fei lose his job because of his own reasons, although he also knows that Xue Fei is not bad at the salary of this job to support himself, but Xue Fei's love for publishing work is also in his eyes.