Zuo Yang Qin was injured.

Time flies, the most cruel and gentle.

——

Slender white hands deftly crossed a row of black keys. At the end of the song, the red-haired girl standing behind her applauded heartily, her eyes shining.

Saeki Xiang looked back at her, her emerald eyes full of undercurrents and turbulent calm.

"Can you play?"

Yang Zhiyuan smiled and said, "I can't play such an advanced musical instrument."

"I will teach you."

"... huh? "

Before the girl could react, she got up and put her on the stool in front of the piano.

Then she leaned down.

A few strands of light-colored long hair hung on Yang Zhiyuan's side face, and the familiar aroma wrapped her. The girl suddenly became nervous and her fingers were stiff.

The warm breath gently brushed her face, and the voice in her ear was flat and soft.

"Relax, trust me."

That's what she said

——

——

Yang Zhiyuan thinks this is a dream, but everything here seems to be logically clear to a strange extent.

The whole space is distinct. The whole wall behind her is covered with various types of cameras, and there is even a small shed as a darkroom.

The general space opposite is a shelf full of bottles and jars, and the long table is also full of grotesque utensils. At first glance, it looks like a chemistry laboratory.

In fact, if you cross the silver line that separates the two spaces, you will smell a strange smell of various fragrances, and you will understand that the white figure that shuttles back and forth between the shelf and the long table is not an experimenter.

She is a perfumer.

There are two strange things at both ends of the silver wire, one is a piano, and the other is a clock that can't walk.

The hour hand points to the Roman numeral 1 1, the minute hand points to 12, and there is no second hand.

They fell into the inexplicable dream space together at night, and the two sides were divided by silver lines, which provided them with the most interesting things. That silver line blocked all sounds and smells, and for several nights they just did their own thing in their own space.

Yang Zhiyuan shoots natural scenery, urban scenery or some publicity pictures for various magazines all the year round. At ordinary times, he only expresses something by placing objects, and never pats people. She has no feeling about taking pictures, and no one asks her to take pictures. She hasn't taken a portrait for years.

But when facing this perfumer, she has an impulse to shoot for a long time, which she has never had before, that kind of desire.

This man's appearance and posture have a fatal attraction to Yang Zhiyuan.

Light brown long hair hangs freely on a pure white background, with soft facial features, but it seems a little cold and sharp because of the owner's imposing manner. Green eyes remind people of the emerald crystal clear in the sun-Yang Zhiyuan once took a promotional photo of jewelry, which happened to be such a scene. Emerald refracts sunlight and is pure and beautiful. The first time she saw each other's eyes, she naturally thought of it.

Photographers are very sensitive to all beautiful things. Yang Zhiyuan finally couldn't restrain his inner desire and raised his camera to aim at the beautiful woman.

She used a film camera conveniently. The woman dropped a few drops of perfume on her wrist with a dropper, then lowered her head slightly and put her wrist on her nose to smell. Yang Zhiyuan's lens just captured this moment. Half-closed eyes, soft and relaxed facial expression, neck curve between white-collar workers ... The photographer held his breath and only felt that he was going to die of cardiac arrest.

The person being photographed instinctively looks at the camera, and the perfumer is instantly alert. Beautiful eyes reveal a sense of coldness, while people who are staring at them put down their cameras and passively touch their noses.

The photographer, who is highly respected on the set, is as at a loss as a child in front of this person.

Yang Zhiyuan tried to talk to the perfumer, but the other party completely ignored her and only tried to do her own work. She was helpless and had to go to the darkroom to develop the photos.

Twenty minutes later, Yang Zhiyuan crossed the separation line with the washed photos, and the smell of mixed spices came to the nose.

For the first time in several nights, someone took the initiative to break the invisible wall.

The man took off his white coat, the sleeves of his blue shirt were simply folded twice, and he rarely wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his high nose. He was writing something with a pen.

The wooden table is full of bottles and jars. There are many things but they are not messy. Branch Yuanyang put light steps and slowly bypassed the opposite woman, holding the corner of the table and squatting down, just as the other party also looked up, and the two directly looked at each other.

Yang Zhiyuan showed a bright smile. "Hello!"

The green eyes behind the lens flashed a trace of consternation. Yang Zhiyuan presents photos to people like treasures, and then pulls the corner of the table with his hand, which reminds people of some kind of dog creature, and his eyes are sincere and open.

"My name is Jerry Yang. Do you want to make a friend? "

——

"Is the information you gave me true?" Yang Zhiyuan is a little depressed. "Why can't I find you in reality?"

After the photographer insisted on pestering the perfumer for several nights, the perfumer finally couldn't help it and gave the other party some basic information.

Saeki shamixiang. Yang Zhiyuan meditated several times, but only felt that the pronunciation of this name made her as happy as me.

The man was so absorbed in the work at hand that he didn't even look at her. "That's your problem."

The voice is cold without ups and downs, and it is very arrogant. However, Yang Zhiyuan was very angry ... Saeki's voice was so beautiful that she wanted to hear more.

She can't tell her feelings, only that this person is very nice and can't help but want to get close, but this feeling can't be attributed to the appreciation of beauty.

She didn't speak again, lying on the back of the chair quietly watching Saeki work, slowly combing her messy thoughts.

Saeki shamixiang picked out bottles that Yuanyang didn't recognize from the shelves, mixed them in different proportions, and was familiar with them.

Finally, the liquid is beautiful and warm, as deep red as a rose.

I don't know if it is an illusion. Yang Zhiyuan thinks that Saeki seems to frown when he sees this color.

I still dropped a few drops on my wrist. After smelling it, Saeki Shamixiang's mouth corners and locked brows convey her dissatisfaction with this perfume.

The woman was silent for a while, sighed lightly, and was about to get rid of these perfumes when she suddenly felt a person leaning over.

"Is it bad?" Branch Yuanyang hands on the table, upper body close to Saeki, curious asked.

Saeki: "Shami Xiang ... you can smell it."

As she said this, she tried to pass the beaker with perfume, but the girl grabbed her left forearm. Saeki's body fell, Jerry Yang gently pulled her arm, then leaned over and sniffed her wrist.

The temperature of the other person's palm is very high, and the skin on his wrist is numb and itchy because of the airflow. Saeki's throat moved, and he clenched his other hand, suppressing his inner throbbing emotions.

Yang Zhiyuan raised his head. "Smells good, doesn't it?"

This is a smell that she doesn't know how to describe. Very inflammatory.

Saeki shamixiang shook his head. "It's not the effect I want."

The arm is still gently held, and Yang Zhiyuan seems to have no problem with this ambiguous action. He also smiled and asked, "May I pat you?"

"There's really nothing to shoot here," she sighed. "You are the only one alive except me."

Saeki's hand twitched beside her. She turned her head to avoid the eager and unadulterated eyes of the other party. The tone is as calm and indifferent as ever. "You are free."

——

In the dream, two people have always been in harmony. Saeki Shami's incense just concentrates on doing her thing, while Zhi Yuanyang holds the camera at random, almost hiding in a dark room to develop photos.

Sometimes she doesn't take pictures, so she just moves a chair and sits and watches. Saeki didn't affect her work because there was someone beside her, as if she was used to doing what she was doing quietly in gentle and focused eyes.

No one saw the soft red ears under flaxen hair.

When I woke up in the morning, Yang Zhiyuan stepped barefoot on the floor, leaned against the bay window and looked at the rising sun in Ran Ran in the sky. The warm sunshine covers my body and has an unreal feeling.

The activity of dream space does not affect the state during the day. Yang Zhiyuan must work as usual. She checked the chat records with her assistant. Today, she is going to take publicity photos for a new perfume brand.

Perfume.

Sitting in the car, Yang Zhiyuan remembered that she also knew a perfumer, and her technical level seemed quite high. I wonder if there are perfumers in big companies?

Saeki said that she is also a perfumer of which brand company. ...

..... seems to be someone who wants Jerry Yang to shoot a propaganda map.

Yang Zhiyuan had already checked, but no matter how she asked, she said there was no such person. She wants to hire a hacker or online cowboy to hack into the system of the authentication agency and search for a person named.

She really used all her relationships to find Xiang, but in reality there is really no trace about her, as if this person doesn't exist at all.

She is a little flustered. Even if she can see He Xiang again every night, it is only in that bizarre and unreasonable dream space. Branch Yuanyang heart again big also feel a little uneasy.

This uneasiness was quickly confirmed.

That night, Yang Zhiyuan lived alone for a long time.

Saeki always comes earlier and leaves later than her. It is difficult for Yang Zhiyuan to judge whether the other person's schedule is regular. Sometimes she will grind pictures or write a shooting plan until two or three in the morning, and the company will give her a few days off after filming. During the holidays, she can sleep until late in the morning. Even so, when she closed her eyes and opened them, what she saw was the graceful figure of the beauty, and then the exquisite appearance and quiet emerald eyes that tempted her.

The first time I needed her was for the fragrance of waiting.

Yang Zhiyuan can't take her watch. She looked at the clock by the wall and didn't go. I don't know what time it is now, and I don't know how long I've been waiting, so she stepped into each other's field to explore. Like a cat, she shuttled between rows of shelves, being careful not to touch anything, and her nose was stained with various smells, vaguely smelling of Saeki.

Like a mandarin duck slowly strolling through the shelf area, it came out and looked at Saeki leaning on the table with her arms in her arms.

The anxiety of waiting and the embarrassment of being bumped into each other's venue were juxtaposed for a while.

If Saeki doesn't talk.

"I'm sorry," Saeki Shamixiang said seriously, meeting the girl's surprised eyes. "I handled something tonight and stayed up late to keep you waiting."

Perhaps it was not Yang Zhiyuan's inexplicable dissatisfaction that prevailed.

Suddenly, there was a cry in her arms. Saeki Xiang paused for a second, then hugged each other's waist and comforted the girl again and again. She felt the wetness on one shoulder, and her beautiful emerald eyes were completely confused and helpless.

She still can't do it.

Can't catch anything.

——

The photos brought by Yang Zhiyuan are piled up in a corner of the room, in a pile of paper full of words. It is reasonable that Xiang should not treat the photos taken by that person like this, especially her photos.

In reality, there is an album in the locked drawer, which is full of such photos. There is also a photo of two people on her workbench, and a clean area has been carefully cleared around her. When she is tired from work, she can recover a lot at a glance, and it is the same now.

In the dream space, people really wander in front of themselves, emitting light and heat in the monotonous black and white environment. Every night before going to bed, she will spend a few minutes to calm down and tell herself over and over again. But it doesn't work. As time goes on, Hexiang can't control himself more and more.

The silent clock that can't walk by the wall points to 6, and the hour hand is between 1 1 and 12, reminding her cruelly over and over again that her chances are running out.

Saeki took a deep breath, then put aside his messy thoughts and tried to concentrate. As a result, he added more things when his hands shook.

Saeki: "..."

Another doomed attempt.

She slowly completed the preparation according to the remaining steps, dropping a few drops on her wrist as usual, but did not move. The novice monk in Saeki watched a few drops of liquid slide under gravity, but his head seemed to be caught by a thick rope, and his eyes were dry.

Holding a glass bottle in her right hand is getting harder and harder. She unconsciously raised her hand and knocked on the corner of the table. The bottle was broken, and several pieces were still tightly held in her hand. The bright red liquid flowing from her fingers dripped on the pure white floor and disappeared.

I don't know whether this is the perfume left on the broken glass or her Saeki-scented blood.

Saeki gritted her teeth, turned her back on the mandarin duck in the field, leaned her left hand on the table, and clenched her right hand in a fist all the time. The pain and sense of separation paralyzed her nerves, so that she wouldn't completely collapse.

When Yang Zhiyuan appeared in his field, he was still afraid.

A woman who has always been calm and calm leans against the table with her back to her, her shoulders tight and even a little trembling.

Yang Zhiyuan felt something was wrong. She tiptoed across the dividing line, separated from her sweetheart only by a table and a pile of bottles and jars, and called each other's names softly, "Shamixiang?"

The woman's body obviously froze for a moment, and then slowly turned to look at her.

Two lines of clear tears flowed out of my eyes, and I couldn't lock them, and my mouth was pursed. There is great sadness in the beautiful emerald eyes.

Yang Zhiyuan only felt that his heart stopped beating at that moment, and then he was drowned and beaten. Numerous repressed things filled her body and there was nowhere to vent.

She strode around the long table that was in the way. After seeing Saeki's bloody right hand, she tasted almost maddening pain.

Yang Zhiyuan grabbed the woman's right hand and broke his fist. Broken glass completely dyed red fell to the ground, smelling of blood and roses. His hands trembled slightly, and the anger in Zhiyuan's chest almost broke out, but after touching the woman's godless and sad eyes, everything subsided and finally turned into a gentle sentence: "Does it hurt?"

Even in dreams, the body feels the same as the outside world.

Saeki Shamixiang shook his head and saw Jerry Yang's face. The tenacious wall collapsed in an instant. Her cold voice has been with tears, a little shaky and hoarse: "Yang ..."

Yang Zhiyuan is stupid. Xiang has never called her like this, calling her name so intimately, and in such a sad tone, there are still some lingering feelings between lovers.

She stared into Saeki's eyes, wondering if the caller was herself.

But the other party didn't give her the chance.

Saeki Xiang's chin, which is still intact in her left hand, melts all her repressed thoughts, confusion and love into a long kiss and tells her lover heartily.

——

We should wipe the gun off. Two people who can only meet in a dream are doing the most intimate thing in the world. Saeki seems to know more about incense than she does. Afterwards, she hugged Yang Zhiyuan and said nothing, promising that she would tell her everything she knew, but she needed time to think about how to say it.

For the first time, obsessed with the existence, she could not judge the relationship between them. Night is their tender hometown, but during the day, there is no shadow of each other, so she is very scared, but she never told Saeki. Yang Zhiyuan does not doubt his feelings, nor does he doubt the truth of love in Saeki's eyes. It's just ... I always feel like I'm with another guy named Yang Zhiyuan.

She guessed that the final collapse of Mishaxiang was probably related to the perfume she wanted to mix. Unfortunately, I don't know anything about this, and he doesn't know what the so-called "effect" pursued by Xiang is. Fortunately, Saeki didn't see the last situation, only once a night, and then returned to Yang Zhiyuan after adjustment. For several days, Yang Zhiyuan woke up in the morning and had to take a shower.

Only cameras and perfumes gradually added some other gadgets to the monotonous space. On one occasion, Jerry Yang excitedly pulled Saeki into the darkroom. It is said to be a darkroom, but it also has a very dark red light. Saeki Shamixiang shrugged his shoulders when he saw a picture of a whole wall, with a helpless smile in his tone. "When did you take so many photos?"

When reading a book or watching a movie, their posture is very uniform-Yang Zhiyuan feels comfortable in Saeki's arms. After all, he can't see it in reality, so he can't persist in his dream for a while?

Actually, I don't like reading books and watching movies very much, but for her, doing anything with her is not boring.

I happened to meet Xiang sitting in front of the piano, opposite the distant clock. She questioned whether the other person could play the piano. Unexpectedly, after harvesting a supercilious look, she was stunned by a series of smooth and beautiful notes. From then on, Yang Zhiyuan never dared to question his lover's ability.

On one occasion, Saeki Shamixiang tried to teach her to play the piano. Yang Zhiyuan used his quick wits to turn a simple piano lesson into a piano music with enough atmosphere.

From then on, Misha played the piano, and Yang Zhiyuan sat quietly one meter away from people and the piano.

"What kind of music is this?" Every time Shami Xiang plays a different tune, Yang Zhiyuan always asks.

There was a silence that answered her.

"The Song of June Boat by Tchaikovsky." Yang Zhiyuan grinned. Monk Xiang closed the piano cover, put his hand on his knee and never turned around.

Yang Zhiyuan sighed: "If you don't look at me again, you won't have a chance after tonight."

The woman sniffed, then turned and bumped into Yang Zhiyuan's unusually gentle eyes.

Saeki novice monk tried to squeeze out a smile, her eyes were red and her voice was a little hoarse. She whispered her lover's name, "Yang ..."

"I am." Yang Zhiyuan answered quickly. She got up and walked over and hugged her.

Saeki Xiang's side face was stuck on her chest, listening to her steady and powerful heartbeat, and tears silently overflowed her eyes, wetting the nearest place to her heart.

She tried to make herself say a complete sentence, "Do you remember everything?"

Yuanyang gave a "mmm" and gently rubbed his chin at the top of his arm.

About thirty days ago, some strange memento mori began to appear in Yuanyang's mind, but she was familiar with the people in her memory, one was herself and the other was Xiang.

She is also very familiar with what she has done together, which they did in the dream space. It is in those strange memories that they look more like home.

In my memory, they seem to be in the same world and are real lovers. We will go to the supermarket, have dinner together, go downstairs for a walk hand in hand after dinner, and kiss under the buttonwood when the sun is about to set.

At first, when Yang Zhiyuan found that she couldn't find Saeki Misha Xiang in her real world, she thought that two people were in different parallel worlds, and only after falling asleep at night would there be a special channel to tell them to connect.

But with the emergence of more and more memories, we can relate to the sadness that Xiang reveals from time to time in his dream, which makes him breathless, but he can't touch and grasp it.

For example, everything in the world has lost its color, and the world has become a black-and-white silent film.

Yang Zhiyuan is not stupid, she can guess a little vaguely.

She and I really loved each other, but because of some accident, she died. They are separated by yin and yang, of course, and Xiang cannot be found in her world.

And those memories are owned by Yuanyang, a branch of her life.

I don't know what method Saeki used. In the dream at night, lovers separated by life and death can meet again.

However, Yang Zhiyuan lost her living memory. She doesn't remember Xiang, but she remembers the feeling of picking up the camera for the first time and the throbbing of the man. Just like at the beginning, she couldn't help taking pictures.

She fell in love with Saeki Shamixiang twice before and after her death.

Because of the face?

Thinking about Yang Zhiyuan, I couldn't help laughing. The vibration of the chest caused her sweetheart to stare at her discontentedly.

..... and tears in the corner of my eyes.

Yang Zhiyuan felt a pain in his heart, leaned down and gently kissed his lover's eyes.

Monk Xiang closed his eyes, raised his head, and gently hooked the corner of Yuanyang's shirt with his fingers.

The corner of the eye, the tip of the nose ... the lip line matches, but it is softer than any kiss they have ever had, which is heartbreaking.

After a long time, I am reluctant to go, their foreheads are facing their foreheads, and their noses are facing their noses. Yang Zhiyuan asked, "Do you remember a movie we saw before? What was its name ... ghost story?"

Saeki novice monk replied with a smile, remember.

That is an American literary film, which discusses the shelf life of love from the perspective of ghosts. Neither of them likes this kind of movie, but this movie gives people a different feeling, with few lines and slow pace. The whole conveyed emotion was delicate and moving, and both of them saw it.

At that time, after watching them, they were all thinking about their own affairs, and the air fell into a harmonious silence. When their eyes meet again, the tacit understanding that belongs to lovers lets them know that the other party and themselves have ideas.

Now Yang Zhiyuan has expressed the original tacit understanding word by word.

Let nature take its course and don't dwell on the past. Those who leave will be forgotten slowly, and those who remember will eventually say goodbye without permission and go on without looking back.

Yang Zhiyuan joked: "In fact, I am quite satisfied. At least I won't be locked by obsession and memories until I forget why I stayed and who I was waiting for, until time and your memories swallowed me up. "

So go, too. As time goes by, taking away love and sadness, the name Yang Zhiyuan will gradually fade away, you will remember that there is such a very important person in your life, and then inevitably begin to forget.

The process is slow and the outcome is doomed, but I still don't want to make you too painful. Because just thinking about what you are about to face makes me think I can die again.

Saeki monk stood up. She is a head taller than a mandarin duck, and she easily takes people into her arms without saying a word.

The clock on the wall, the hour hand has pointed to 12, and the minute hand is slightly shorter, which can coincide with the hour hand.

They reunited here for sixty nights.

"Am I the last one to remember how I died?"

"It should be."

"Accidental death?"

"hmm."

"Car accident?"

"yes."

Someone curled up in Saeki's arms and smiled proudly. "That's right."

Saeki Shamixiang's voice came down from her head, without sadness or joy. "Are you proud?"

Yang Zhiyuan: "..." I didn't. I didn't. Listen to me.

Before he could explain, Yang Zhiyuan suddenly felt very dizzy, and the scene in front of him was distorted and unreal. She found herself sitting in the back seat of a taxi and reported an address to the driver.

Yang Zhiyuan's pupils dilated and his body trembled uncontrollably. Her body feeling is divided into two parts, one part stays in the lover's arms, and the other part is about to experience death again.

But at the last minute, the bad thing of restoring the memory of death diluted the suffocating sadness.

Yang Zhiyuan felt that she was hugged more tightly. She tried in vain not to immerse herself completely in memories.

All her senses were dragged into the tide of memory and fell into her body before she died. She can feel everything, but she can't control it She was forced to be a passenger behind her eyes.

It's embarrassing and uncomfortable. Yang Zhiyuan suddenly remembered that she had just finished filming a movie, so she pushed the rest to herself for a whole afternoon.

There are many things to do.

The next day is July 29th, Saeki Shamixiang's birthday.

She remembers the happy mood at that time, and now she can only sigh that things are impermanent and absurd.

The taxi was knocked down by a truck with broken brakes at an intersection and pushed dozens of meters away.

By the time the bus stopped, Yang Zhiyuan was already out of his mind. She only felt that something warm was constantly oozing from her body, and then it became cold. In fact, it doesn't hurt very much, just like falling asleep slowly when you are sleepy.

Before she lost consciousness, she heard a slow and beautiful piano melody, which was the ringtone of her mobile phone.

Tchaikovsky's "Song of the Boat in June"

Saeki Misha played with incense.

After the second death experience, Yang Zhiyuan's consciousness gradually became clear. She saw their space falling apart little by little, and there was a blank behind them.

She found her face cold and didn't know when she cried. Yuanyang moved, looked up to Xiang's ear, wanted to say something, and then was surprised to feel that the clothes on her right shoulder were completely soaked.

No wonder you still hold her.

Yang Zhiyuan couldn't help laughing, and at the same time tears flowed more and more.

She wants to say "I love you"

When it comes to words, it becomes "Happy Birthday"

——

——

——

The woman squatted down and put an empty perfume bottle in front of the tombstone. She didn't get up at once. She stared at the photo on the tombstone, her eyes full of nostalgia.

She murmured, "Yang, I seem to be coming out."

The girl in the photo has a happy smile and gentle eyes. Saeki knew at that time that Shami Xiang was watching her.

She also subconsciously hooked her lips and smiled: "But I won't leave without saying goodbye, so I'm here. You also want to hurry up, maybe ... "

I won't dwell on past memories, and try my best to meet you. I want to go on in this world with a faint hope.

"When can we meet again?"

The last half sentence, Saeki's voice is very light, the beauty holding her words, to whose ears.

The last hope is to see you again.

People's feelings will be forgotten, swallowed, distorted and misunderstood. However, the warmth I really feel, the temperature I have and the warmth I carefully hide have all precipitated into a kind of gentleness and peace.

Past experience constitutes the present, and everything in the present will determine the future.

Perhaps, after a long time, we passed by in the turbulent crowd and looked back together tacitly. This is not the first time we have met.

But it's been a long time.