Chapter 95 Don't Imagine a Pink Elephant

Chapter 95 Don't Imagine a Pink Elephant

Chapter 95 Don't Imagine a Pink Elephant

"Student Chen Qingluo, is everything you wrote in your composition true?"

"……real."

"So, you really have a second uncle who is a migrant worker and got run over by a bicycle when he was drunk, and the wound became ulcerated and led to amputation. He then studied hard and was admitted to Nanjing University?"

"… Mr. Wang Zixu."

Chen Qingluo turned around - until now, he still remembered her sparkling eyes, as dark as the night and as bright as the stars.

"what happened?"

"you idiot."

At the beginning of the story, there are always two young people doing nothing. It would be best if the weather was clear, the wind was gentle, and everything looked so bright.

Deep in Wang Zixu's deep memory palace, there is a very bright place - he and Chen Qingluo walked one after the other on the plastic track in the playground. The plastic track was bright red and the sky was clear blue.

Chen Qingluo was wearing a sports short-sleeved shirt, revealing her arms as white as sheep fat. She was wearing blue school uniform trousers, with thin and cute ankles and a high ponytail dangling in the air, which made her look a bit naive. So when she called him a fool, he didn't feel angry.

"I've told you that writing essays is micro-fabrication, writing novels is large-scale fabrication, and writing classics is super-fabrication. Now that I've come to this point, you're still asking me if I have such a second uncle. You idiot, do you really think Maupassant has an uncle named Jules?"

"What? Is Jules a fake?!"

"……you win."

The two walked for a while, away from the other students, and Wang Zixu asked again: "But what you wrote feels so real, just like it really happened. It can't be so real if it's made up..."

"Why isn't it possible?"

"what?"

“I asked you why it is impossible?”

Chen Qingluo turned to look at Wang Zixu. Perhaps because she saw that his expression looked very stupid, her face fell and she reached out her hand and patted him lightly on the forehead.

Before her fingertips landed on his forehead, she had already retracted her strength, so from Wang Zixu's perspective, she was just touching his head, albeit in a very hasty manner.

Chen Qingluo said: "Let me ask you, do pink elephants exist in this world?"

Wang Zixu said: "I think maybe there is none. Even if there is, it is definitely not pure pink."

"Can you imagine a pure pink elephant?"

"……able."

"Have you ever dreamed that you were flying in the sky?"

"Did it."

"How did you fly in your dream?"

The prince spread his arms out like a swallow: "With a wave of his hands, he can glide in the air."

"Can you fly if you do this in real life?"

"No."

Chen Qingluo tucked her hair behind her ears and said, "Let me tell you, big fool, human imagination is very powerful, powerful enough to create something out of nothing.

"I don't have a second uncle. If I had one, he would probably work in an auto parts factory, have thinning hair, suffer from periarthritis of the shoulder, have calluses all over his hands, have black spots between his fingers, and always smell of motor oil. He likes to eat meat, watch football, and like rainy days...

"You see, as long as you continue to fill in his details, he will eventually become a living person, as if he were living next to us. This is the power of imagination. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Wang Zixu said, "But if he has periarthritis of the shoulder, he won't like rainy days because his shoulders will hurt when it rains."

Chen Qingluo said: "I left a flaw on purpose just to test you. Well, you passed it."

Wang Zixu said: "Really? But I feel like you just didn't write it well."

"How could I not have written it well? Even if I didn't, there's no way you could have noticed. You're such a fool, you can't even tell. You're obviously very smart, but why are you so stupid sometimes..."

The redness on Chen Qingluo's face was very light, so light that it was almost invisible under the sun. It was pink and looked very beautiful.

Here, the memory branches out: one version is that Wang Zixu was stunned until Chen Qingluo rolled her eyes at him and he came to his senses; another version is that Wang Zixu was not stunned and appeared very calm on the surface, but until he was doing the test paper during evening self-study, he was still wondering whether she blushed or not.

But in either case, Chen Qingluo didn't really blush. He could imagine a pink elephant, but no matter what, he couldn't imagine a blushing Chen Qingluo.

……

Wang Zixu opened his eyes and first checked his cell phone. It was six fifty in the morning, a little later than yesterday.

He got up decisively, put on his clothes quickly, and knocked on the scriptwriters' doors one by one.

"Hurry up and get up and exercise, time waits for no one."

Every time I knocked on a door, I heard a painful groan from inside. It was fun. It seemed that they had not yet adapted to this high-intensity life and needed more exercise.

When he arrived at Ye Lan's door, he didn't knock and went downstairs to do warm-up exercises.

It took half an hour for people to finish washing and brushing their teeth. They arrived one by one, looking like they were in a state of disarray. Under Wang Zixu's devilish urging, they listlessly ran off into the distance.

At nine o'clock, Ye Lan woke up. She hurriedly put on her clothes, stockings, applied foundation, took pictures of her face, drew eyebrows, and permed her hair in the room. When she came out, Wang Zixu was still writing his essay.

While Ye Lan was toasting bread for himself, he took out his mobile phone to read the news, and Wang Zixu's hands kept typing on the keyboard.

She brought out the baked bread and sat down opposite Wang Zixu. While eating, she said, "Wow, the highway collapsed again. I don't dare to take the highway anymore."

Wang Zixu didn't answer, and she didn't care. She cleared her throat and continued to report: "Local news in Xihe, Chen Qingluo and Ning Chunyan will both participate in the Xihe Literary Festival as judges."

Wang Zixu's hand, which was typing, froze and hung in the air.

Ye Lan looked at him with a sly smile: "Why, are you attracted? I heard that these two are the most beautiful women in the literary world. If you write a good essay, you may have a chance to meet them."

"Oh." Wang Zixu lowered his head and continued typing.

Ye Lan said: "Do you know them?"

"do not know."

"Then you should work hard on your essay. If it's good, they will personally present you with the prize. Then the entire Xihe literary world will envy you."

"Don't talk to me, I'm busy now."

Ye Lan wrinkled her nose.

She stuffed the last piece of bread into her mouth, clapped her hands, walked to Wang Zixu, and poked his ribs with her fingers like knives.

"I thought you were going to sleep all day today. You only slept for a few hours? How come you're still so energetic?"

"Four and a half hours of sleep. That was enough."

Ye Lan then poked him: "Were you the one who carried me upstairs yesterday?"

Wang Zixu said: "No. It was the poet who carried you up there."

Ye Lan said: "The poet said it was you."

Sartre came over at some point and laughed with glee: "Haha, I knew she would pick a fight with you!"

Wang Zixu ignored him and said to Ye Lan: "The poet is lying."

"Nonsense, women don't lie to women."

Sartre sat down beside him and told him: "She just wanted a chance to talk to you. Women's emotional needs are so strange."

"I know."

Ye Lan asked: "What do you know?"

Wang Zixu said: "I know you weren't actually drunk yesterday. Who gets drunk with half a box of beer? Beer only fills your stomach, it doesn't make you drunk."

Ye Lan blushed, slapped him on the back, and whispered:

"But I blew it all in one breath. And I don't really have a good alcohol tolerance. By the way, don't change the subject. It was you who carried me upstairs yesterday, right?" Wang Zixu lowered his head and typed, answering her with the remaining capacity of his brain: "A poet is a writer of novels."

"Yeah, so what?"

"Don't trust a novelist. They tell lies all the time."

"Don't you write novels too?"

Sartre reminded her, "You performed very well yesterday and scored very high with her. This level of perfunctory response will not get rid of her. You must respond positively, otherwise she will pester you all day long."

Old Sartre's words were true. Wang Zixu finally gave up struggling and looked up at Ye Lan: "Then I'll tell you the truth. Yesterday I helped you upstairs with the poet."

"Why didn't you just say no earlier? Stop hesitating."

"Mainly because you're heavy."

"Bah! You are heavy, as heavy as a pig!" Ye Lan was so angry that his face turned red.

After being angry for a while, she suddenly calmed down and said, "I'm not here to cause you trouble. What are you afraid of? Actually, I want to thank you."

After a pause, she said, "I just bought a Tesla. My old Audi is a bit fuel-consuming, so I don't drive it anymore. Don't you have a car? When the new car arrives, I can lend you the old one. Do you have a driver's license?"

"Yes. But I have never used it much because I don't have a car." Wang Zixu said, "Thank you."

Ye Lan put his hand on his chest and said, "You're welcome. We are partners now."

"Oh. Okay." Wang Zixu showed no passion at all, which made Ye Lan very disappointed.

Ye Lan put his hands behind his back, looked down at him for a long time, and asked:

"You only slept for four hours. Is that really okay? We still have more than ten days to go. Can you handle it?"

Wang Zixu stared at the screen without stopping his hands: "I don't know either. My heart is aching a bit right now, and I have tinnitus. But I have to hurry up. There is no arrangement for writing the essay in my previous plan, so I have to squeeze out time to write it."

"You want to grab it with both hands and do it with both hands, right? But you should take care of your health. I'm really worried that you will die suddenly here."

Wang Zixu was typing on the keyboard when he suddenly stopped and frowned, as if there was something that puzzled him.

After a while, he turned around and looked at Ye Lan: "Stretch out your hand."

"What?" Ye Lan took a step back in fear at the sudden commanding tone.

"Stretch out."

Ye Lan stretched out her hand, and Wang Zixu placed his hand flat on hers: "My hands are not shaking?"

Ye Lan shook his head: "No."

"Extend your other hand."

Ye Lan obeyed stupidly. She herself didn't know why she was so obedient. Anyway, as long as Wang Zixu stared at her, she had no intention of resisting.

Wang Zixu stretched out his other hand and placed it on hers: "What about this one? Is it shaking?"

"No."

Wang Zixu's hands were warm and generous, while Ye Lan's were icy cold. They held their hands in the air for a moment. Wang Zixu withdrew his hand.

"If my hands aren't shaking, it means I'm fine. I won't die anytime soon. It won't affect my writing."

"Where did you get this barefoot doctor's diagnosis method?" Ye Lan rolled his eyes at him, his heart pounding wildly.

"Aren't you going to the company yet? You're already late."

"It's okay. I just said you were delayed by something."

"I'll tell Zuo Ziliang that I have nothing to do here."

"You bastard!"

Wang Zixu almost kicked Ye Lan out directly. Ye Lan was ashamed and annoyed. After cursing him, he fled and hid in his Audi 4WD. He sat in the driver's seat and gasped heavily.

"It's over, Ye Lan, it's over, it's over... He must have seen through it, and he's feeling very proud now."

She pointed the rearview mirror at herself and found her face flushed red. Then she pointed at the mirror with a complaining look and said:
"Why did you mess with him? He's the little prince, have you forgotten?"

She calmed down. Because the real Wang Zixu was so different from his image, she often forgot that he was actually very capable. He had the potential to be a scumbag.

She was still frightened, and thought with some relief: Fortunately, he got married. Getting married was like sealing this guy off.

No matter what his wife is like, thank her for her contribution to the world.

She started the car, and it twisted crookedly like a worm, only going in a straight line when it got on the main road.

The scriptwriters who were jogging passed by, Sakura and the others all greeted the car.

Ye Lan rolled down the car window, and people shouted at her with smiles on their faces, "Is Boss Ye gone?"

"Oh, yes." Ye Lan said, "I have to go back to work."

"Are you coming tonight? The barbecue there was pretty good last night."

Ye Lan waved his hand: "No, no, I'm still feeling hungover. I can't stand playing like this every day."

"Oh……"

People drawled out their voices, very disappointed.

Ye Lan thought for a moment and said, "I'll come over to sleep tonight. If you can break the record today, I'll treat you to a midnight snack."

"Yeah!" people cheered.

Ye Lan rolled up the car window, and people shouted from behind: "Boss Ye, your seat belt is not fastened!"

……

In the apartment, Wang Zixu typed on the keyboard: "...Her hair was slightly disheveled, and there was a light flashing in her eyes..."

Sartre leaned over the table and said, "You're going a little too far."

"what happened?"

"You can't write a satisfactory description, so you just try to tease people around you to do experiments, right?" Sartre said, "What if problems arise?"

Although Sartre is a scumbag, he always hits the nail on the head.

Wang Zixu had just reached a critical point and had no idea what to do, so he made a move on Ye Lan. The reaction was quite satisfactory to him. But it also showed that his symptoms were about to spread to reality. That was why Sartre was worried about him.

"I'm not trying to defend myself... I'm really lacking in describing women's demeanor. Chen Qingluo is wrong. Imagination has its limits. I can imagine a very real man, but I can't imagine a woman that real.

"Shen Qingfeng does a great job in this regard. He can really write about the feeling of being moved when writing about women, but I can't do that. I have too few dealings with young people of the opposite sex. I have been numb for a long time and really don't know what it feels like to be moved."

Sartre's expression was serious: "No matter how numb you are, you can't harm people in real life to find feelings, right? Be careful not to become a scumbag."

"Even if I become a scumbag, it's not your turn to say that, right?"

Sartre said, "And can't you just go to a bar and flirt with someone you don't know? Don't you understand that rabbits don't eat grass near their nests?"

"You know that rabbits don't eat grass near their burrows. Have you forgotten what you said yesterday?" Wang Zixu said, "Oh, don't bother me. I really don't have time now."

Sartre said: "I am just kindly reminding you that writing novels is important, but don't let your life get involved in it."

Wang Zixu said: "I don't think there is anything more important than writing novels. Including my own life. Sartre, you have become secular."

"Awesome." Sartre exclaimed sincerely, "You are really a literary martyr. I hope your results will be worthy of your madness."

Wang Zixu said nothing. He never thought he was crazy. He was just forced by life.

Sartre stopped talking. The world had just been quiet for a while when Wang Zixu's phone vibrated again.

He looked at the screen and saw that it was Hu Xiaoping from his unit calling.

(End of this chapter)