I live in an old red, brick building, which looks like a teaching building at an Ivy League school, old like a pre-liberation heritage building, with the atmosphere of the twenties and thirties. If you don't look closely, it has a bit of a bookish charm, and of course there will be no ivy on the wall! In addition, the various windows on the upper floor are not in harmony with the overall style, there are brand new plastic steel windows, under which air conditioning units are installed, and some are ordinary steel windows, which have been covered with rust, and there are individual rotten wood windows. There are three exits throughout the building, one on each side and one at the back. In front of the building is a large hotel, which is always lit up all night, and the sound of happy feasting and drinking can be heard from time to time. Between the two buildings, there is a deserted courtyard that I have never entered, scattered with some dandelions, and in one corner of the courtyard is neatly stacked some wood that can be used in the future, which looks relatively old, and the wood has cracked in the wind and rain, and the cracks are like old and dry skin cracks. Among the weeds stood a lone tree with no signs of life. Although there was not a single leaf left, it had always stood there, and the trunk and branches had turned gray and black, like a pair of withered hands raised into the air. Every time I look out the window since I moved here, I've been staring at the dead tree for a while, imagining what it was like when it was alive. Whenever the wind blows, there is a whining sound of the wind accompanied by the shaking of the branches, and dust falls on the windowsill. That's when I have some respect for the tree. In the time when it was no longer alive, its branches were still so strong, as if to show off the tenacious and vigorous vitality it once had.

I sank into the couch and looked around the room: the quilt was not folded, there was a large pile of laundry in the basket that had not yet had time to fold, the curtains were only open a gap, there were a few CD albums of the Santana band scattered on the floor, like a few goldfish swimming in a fish tank resting in the water because of a nap, a dozen books taken from the shelves were stacked on the computer desk, and the rinsed glass ashtray was upside down next to the mouse, reflecting a little light from the gap in the curtains. Looking at everything in this room, I suddenly remembered that there had been no news of Melly for ten weeks, and that the small picture of Melly and the sketch of "My Residence" framed in the frame on the table were covered with a thin layer of coldness. I lit a second cigarette and looked at a sketch on the table, "Here I Am," which was a sketch of the exterior of the house I asked Lin Jun to paint, and it was so realistic that I could even see the tiny marks on the trunk of the tree. What else can I think of from this tree? What draws me to it? There was a knock on the door outside my room, and my thinking stopped.

I haven't seen Lin Jun for a few months, his hair has grown a lot, it looks like it should be about 30 centimeters, tied at the back of his head, and he carries his Armani black fabric backpack as usual, in my impression, his backpack can be called "black magic bag", because in his words "everything that makes people feel new jumps out of this bag"; On his feet were black leather shoes with uppers high enough to call them boots, and which would never be laced. According to his understanding, the shoelaces will affect the comfort of the whole body!

Lin Jun entered the room and set up what looked like a drawing board next to the computer desk, which looked like a flag with a very special pattern because it was very flat wrapped in oil canvas and tied with a black ribbon in the shape of a cross.

"You said you always wanted an oil painting that I painted, and today I brought it!" He sat down in his chair and said, gesturing to the "drawing board" that he had just placed next to his computer desk.

"Oh! Wow! Then I want to thank you so much! ”

"Thank you, I don't have to!" He pressed his right index finger to the corner of his forehead and said, "The reason why it took so long to give it to you is because I haven't been able to draw it well, I feel like it!" I drew a lot of drafts before, but they were not ideal, so I simply destroyed them, and now I am not very satisfied with this one, but I still decided to stay! ”

"You're too yourself, aren't you?" I asked with a smile.

Lin Jun smiled and did not answer.

"Can you open it and take a look?"

"Don't worry, you can take your time in the future!"

"It's good!"

"There is beer in the Xiaoice box!" I said.

"Okay!"

While Lin Jun was in the kitchen, I turned on my computer and showed a copy of The Beatles' "TheBeatles 1".

"Or would you rather listen to these songs?" Lin Jun said as he poured his beer.

"That's right!" I replied, "Have you been drawing anything new lately?" ”

"Not yet! I just drew some sketches and exercises, and the training of basic skills cannot be interrupted! ”

"You're the most persistent of all I've ever met." I groaned.

"You've also been 'not doing your job', what books have you been reading lately?"

"On the Road by Jack Kerouac!"

"Look, books that have nothing to do with work!"

"I can't really talk about what I have in common with work, but that's what I love to do!" I nodded.

"That's right! Employees who think about work all day long are not good employees, and the time after work is their own time, and it should be like this when they leave the company. ”

"That's a very authentic idea! It seems that this is your understanding of the concept of employees! ”