Xia Yuan nodded, took out the pen sandwiched in the middle of the notebook, and planned to start the interview like this.
Ms.
Wang first turned against the customer and asked: "Do you like my performance?"
Xia Yuan tilted his head, glanced at the upper left corner, his expression seemed to be thinking for a few seconds, and then he smiled and said, "Part of it, that head-on-head collision made me understand a lot of things." ” Then Xia Yuan flipped through the notebook and said, "Then let's start from scratch."
"Why don't you turn it upside down," Ms.
Wang leaned back slightly, and the corners of her mouth were raised, "Do you know that Wang Jingshu is a good flirtatious hand?"
Xia Yuan in the audience smiled helplessly and said, "Let's save some effort, there is something more important than teasing me."
Besides, your habit of referring to yourself in the third person is quite difficult to get used to. ” Xia Yuan picked up the conversation and asked, "What books do you usually read?"
Ms.
Wang waved her hand and said, "I don't need to study.
I live in vibration, which is inherently hypersensible. ” Xia Yuan stretched out a hand, motioned to stop, and said, "Let's put aside the super sense for the time being, what is the vibration you are talking about." ” Ms.
Wang said, "How can we describe vibrations to you in vulgar language?"
Xia Yuan restrained his smile a little, but still kept smiling, and said, "I don't know, you can try it." ” Ms.
Wang: "I'm an artist, I don't need to explain bullshit" Xia Yuan: "Then I'll write that she lives by vibration, but I don't know why." ” Ms.
Wang frowned: "I don't like this interview anymore, I feel your hostility." ” Xia Yuan shrugged: "It's like vibration" Ms.
Wang leaned forward, stared at Xia Yuan, and said, "This is the end, let's talk about my mother's boyfriend's abuse of me." ” Xia Yuan's expression showed strong regret, and said, "No, I just want to know what the vibration is."
Ms.
Wang touched her chin, pondered for a while, and said, "It's my radar that listens to this world." ” Xia Yuan wrote in the notebook, and continued to ask without raising his head: "Radar, meaning" Ms.
Wang raised her hands to her chest, made a cross gesture, and said, "You are a very nasty person."
You listen to me, we started badly, Wang Jingshu attaches great importance to this interview of your magazine, your magazine has a large readership, but you are biased.
Why not let Wang Jingshu talk about her fiancé, they do it 11 times a day.
My fiancé is a conceptual artist with a level, and he pasted it with a basketball on confetti, an amazing idea."
Xia Yuan interrupted, "Ms.
Wang, first of all, what you said is meaningless.
Secondly, what I hear now, all I hear is nonsense that cannot be published.
If you think you can fool me by saying things like I'm an artist and don't have to explain, you're wrong.
We have a strict and cultured group of readers who don't want to be fooled, and I, for whom I work. ” Xia Yuan looked directly at Ms.
Wang.
Ms.
Wang stood up and said angrily, "Then why don't you let me talk about my bumpy and painful and indispensable path as an artist" Xia Yuan's expression was speechless: "Who is indispensable, God, Ms.
Wang, in the end, what is vibration." ” Ms.
Wang looked at Xia Yuan and burst into tears: "I don't know what vibration is, I don't know" Xia Yuan said impatiently: "You don't know" Ms.
Wang: "I don't know, maybe it's just a symbol. ” Xia Yuan nodded affirmatively and said, "That's right." ” Seeing that she was crying even more fiercely, Ms.
Wang choked up and said, "I want to talk to your leader and ask her to change to a reporter with a better level." ” Xia Yuan sneered and said, "A suggestion, I hope you will talk to my leader for a longer time, she is old, and you are too stupid to heal, you will make her a lot happier." ” Hearing this, Han Jue finally couldn't help laughing.
He witnessed a caustic reporter exposing a false artist.
From the artist's aura at the beginning to the embarrassment at the end, Han Jue even felt that this process was a kind of artistic performance.
Han Jue smiled like this, which instantly attracted the attention of the two ladies, and the audience stared at Han Jue expressionlessly, and the fierce gods on the stage glared at Han Jue viciously.
Han Jue immediately took his bag, nodded to them, moved towards the intersection little by little, stretched out his hand to signal them to continue, continue, and then ran away with a smoke.
Han Jue ran out of a street, stopped, drank all the little water left, and looked at the time, it was already 4:24 pm.
It's still bright, but it's not that hot.
It's almost time to go home.
Han Jue turned his head to look around, looking for a way out of the park, and found that there was actually a tattoo shop in front of him.
The sign of the tattoo shop is very clean, only black and white, the font is designed in black font, and the rest of the signboard is left blank.
Oh, the style of this store looks quite high, then, it is better to hit the day than to hit the day, Han Jue plans to solve the historical legacy of the predecessor today.
Han Jue walked in.
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Han Jue's tattoo is entirely based on pragmatism.
If he wants him to say why he wants to get a tattoo, he can't say, he can't tell people that there was more than one scar in this position Han Jue entered the house and was really surprised when he saw the tattoo master.
In addition to the tattoos on her body that prove that she is linked to the profession of tattoo artist, she is thin and small, and she is soft-voiced, completely like a high school student, and she is still a good learner.
It is completely inconsistent with Han Jue's image of a short-haired, sturdy man, or a down-and-out male artist with loose clothes, a thin body, and long hair.
"Do you have a pattern in mind," the tattoo artist asked Han Jue softly.
Han Jue was dumbfounded, and he didn't think about anything at all, so he shook his head.
"Then where are you going to write," the tattoo artist turned to rummage for something.
"Wrist," Han Jue said, "inside the forearm." ” The tattoo artist nodded, and brought a picture book.
Most of the patterns inside are flat graphics on paper, which are relatively small and not complicated, and are suitable for writing on the wrist.
There are also photos that have been written on other people's bodies in the album, which are also for reference.
Han Jue flipped through it for a while and found that the pattern on it was either the shape could not cover the scar, or the pattern was too ugly, which was disliked by Han Jue.
Han Jue closed the album, stood up and paced and thought, what do you want to write.
My girlfriend's name is not good for the white dog, but I don't know that the name on the side is the name of the dog.
Writing a sentence about this can be considered.
If it was the predecessor, what would he want to write, I don't know.
Han Jue thought about it, and his thoughts drifted to the past.
Han Jue and his girlfriend were sitting on the sofa in the apartment, one holding a book and reading.
The atmosphere was quiet, with big white prostrate at their feet.
It was very cold in winter, so they put their feet on their big white belly.
His girlfriend suddenly said, "Eh, listen, this sentence is quite flavorful." ” Han Jue looked at the book and said in his mouth, "What." ” "The past didn't inspire us, but it still wanted to say something.
The dirt of history, the crow, probably knows more than we do.
His girlfriend read slowly.
Han Jue raised his head and looked at his girlfriend, who was holding a copy of Thomas Wencilova's Selected Poems, her eyes lit up, and she was expecting to see Han Jue's reaction.
"Yes, it's pretty cold."
Han Jue raised his head, tasted it carefully, and nodded in affirmation.
"Right, right," his girlfriend laughed.
Han Jue also laughed.
Han Jue smiled and said to the tattoo master, just write a crow, no, a few crows, the kind that stops on the branches.
The tattoo artist nodded.
She keenly felt that although the man in front of her was smiling, this smile was like a fragile object, and it would shatter at the touch of a button.
The smile seemed to be reluctant, but the happiness was not fake.
I thought of my ex-girlfriend.
She thought.
The tattoo artist took the sketchbook, sketched the concept on the paper, and drew the pattern in her mind.
"How about all this?"
"Add one more to the top."
The final pattern was a few crows standing on bare, intricately lined branches that cut through the space on the skin, as if trying to trap them.
At the top of the tree, a crow was flying towards its forearm.
From a distance, the crows standing on the branches looked like the few leaves left.
The price of the tattoo is within Han Jue's affordable range, although he can't eat properly for a while in the future, but it's a big deal to go and eat.
Han Jue stretched out his hand to the tattoo artist.
The tattoo artist looked at the scars and didn't mean anything, and began to work with a flat face, looking very professional.
Han Jue looked at those scars with different colors from the surroundings, the slight pain, all of a sudden, Han Jue actually liked it a little.
I like this kind of behavior that requires pain to achieve beauty.
The tattoo took about 2 hours, and after the end of the day, the branches on the scar looked quite three-dimensional.
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Han Jue was very satisfied, and said that he would look for her next time for a tattoo.
After Han Jue listened to the tattoo master's admonition on precautions, when he came out, the sun was about to go down.
Han Jue plans to go home and eat cost-effective noodles nearby.
Covering those scars, it was also like covering something in Han Jue's heart, and Han Jue became more relaxed when he walked.
At dusk, the sun that had been boiling for a day finally ripened, red and round, shining on the clouds and Han Jue in the distance.
On the other side of the magic capital, Guan Yi, who waited in the office for Han Jue to send a message to inform him of the audition, had been waiting for almost a day, because he couldn't wait, so he took the initiative to call Han Jue, and it happened that Han Jue was tattooed and didn't hear the silent mobile phone in the bag.
Guan Yi took the phone off his ear.
Guan Yi held the mobile phone, frowning and pondering.
Whether it was a failure or a success Guan Yi thought for a while, then stood up, quickly packed his things, left the office, and started the car.
The direction of the car was the direction to Han Jue's house. t21902181t21902181