It is a long way from Yancheng to Beijing. We leave early before nine in the morning, but we have not reached our destination at two in the afternoon.
The interior of the off-road vehicle is spacious, but with four men sitting in it, the space is still a little cramped.
There were few conversations along the way, and the driver sitting in the driver's seat focused on driving, naturally he didn't talk much. Sitting in the co-pilot seat was Cao Xiuyuan's assistant Zheng Yin. Except when he first got into the car, he turned his head and chatted with Cao Xiuyuan a few words about work, and he was silent for most of the rest of the time.
Liang Sizhe was sitting next to Cao Xiuyuan, and was a little uncomfortable at first, but when he saw Cao Xiuyuan only looking down at a stack of printed materials—probably scripts—without paying any attention to himself, he quickly relaxed and leaned his head back on the chair. He turned his back and stared at the rapidly receding trees outside the car window.
Long-distance driving is especially suitable for sleeping, but Liang Sizhe is not sleepy. He feels that this situation is unreal, like a dream.
From the first time I saw Cao Xiuyuan to the time I got on the off-road vehicle with him, the interval between them was less than 24 hours.
He closed his eyes and couldn't help but see the picture of Cao Xiuyuan for the first time in his mind.
The take-out order for dinner last night was terrible. He walked downstairs with his slippers on, preparing to dump the leftovers to the stray cats and dogs gathered downstairs. When he was about to reach the corner of the building, he saw two gangsters joking together. As he approached, he saw that one of the gangsters was holding a thin wicker stick and whipping a pregnant female cat hard.
Liang Sizhe walked over, raised his hand and put the lunch box in his hand on the gangster's head. The vegetable soup trickled down the bastard's forehead and the bridge of his nose, and the bastard instantly uttered a rude swear word. Holding the thin wicker in his hand, he raised his hand and slammed it towards Liang Sizhe. Liang Sizhe turned his body to hide for a moment. He was hit in the shoulder while turning sideways. When the thug was about to hit him a second time, he raised his left hand and caught the thin wicker stick. As if there was no pain in the palm of his hand, he pulled it over with all his strength. Then he used his strength to kick the bastard's abdomen.
There was no surprise that it was a fierce battle. The two thugs didn't take advantage of it, and Liang Sizhe also had to win the prize. The thin wicker slapped his shoulders so hot that he didn't know where the slippers were kicked during the melee just now.
In a fight between the two sides, whoever does not want to die will win. Liang Sizhe is such a person. He has a lifeless aura when he fights - he doesn't care about his own life, and the other party's life doesn't matter. The two thugs were frightened by him after a while, and they stepped back and uttered harsh words, saying that the brothers would be called to come over to unload his arm tomorrow.
Liang Sizhe didn't take this seriously, he didn't chase after the gangster ran away, and looked around for his slippers.
The sky was completely dark during the melee just now, and the dim light of the street lamps spread on the concrete pavement in the community. He didn't find any slippers, so he quickly gave up. Looking back, he returned the same way as usual.
In the past year, he has made a lot of feuds in the vicinity. Such fights are simply commonplace for him, and it is not worth remembering for long, and he forgets it after a sleep.
After getting on the elevator, the marble floor was a little cold, the bare foot rested on the upper of the other slipper, and the left shoulder leaned against the side wall of the elevator. Liang Sizhe looked at the beating numbers on the electronic screen.
His hair had not been cut for months, and it was already shoulder-length. Before he went out, he tied a rubber band to the back of his head. The thin wicker ripped open the shoulders of his denim jacket. An obvious piece of flesh, one slipper was missing, and vegetable soup was still on his hands.
He walked to the door in such an embarrassed manner, and when he looked up, he saw three people standing at the door.
One of them, he knew, was his professional class teacher at the Music Affiliated High School a year ago, and there was a tall man about forty years old who was staring at him, and he didn't hide the scrutiny in his eyes at the moment.
While that man was looking at him from head to toe, Liang Sizhe also looked at the man without any timidity - he looked familiar, but he couldn't tell where he had seen it for a while. Just as he was trying to search for the memory of this person in his mind, the music teacher standing next to him saw him, and he suddenly became energetic and waved to him: "Liang Sizhe!"
Only then did Liang Sizhe retract his gaze and look at the female teacher with no expression on his face: "Why are you here?"
"Why didn't you even say hello? Didn't you recognize him?" The female teacher didn't answer his question, she walked over and grabbed his arm to introduce him, her tone was full of excitement that could not be concealed, "Director Cao Xiuyuan! I know! Right? The director of the filming of "Woven"!"
"Oh," Liang Sizhe turned his rusty brain, not showing any surprise, but slowly opened his lips and called out, "Director Cao."
The moment I called for the exit, I remembered what the familiar-sounding name Cao Xiuyuan meant—a well-known film director in China, sitting on numerous trophies and becoming popular among several newcomers in the mainland—how could this character appear at his doorstep
"Yeah, what's wrong here?" The vocal teacher noticed the blood stasis on his shoulders, "A fight with someone?"
"It's okay," Liang Sizhe didn't seem to care, "I had a fight with the dog downstairs."
"Si Zhe you..." The vocal teacher looked at him and hesitated. In the end, he changed the subject and suggested kindly, "Please invite Director Cao to come in and sit down. Director Cao came here to see you."
Liang Sizhe was silent for two seconds: "My house is quite messy, why don't I just say it here."
"Open the door and have a look," said the famous director Cao Xiuyuan, looking at him and said, "Do you mind?"
"You can do it if you don't mind." Liang Sizhe looked up at him and said, then took out the key in his pocket with his untouched hand, and lowered his head to unlock the door.
Opening the door, Liang Sizhe raised his hand and turned on the ceiling lamp in the living room.
The house was really messy, and the sofa cushions were thrown on the floor. The open piano case was lying in the middle of the living room, next to a smashed violin, the broken neck was pulled by the strings.
The living room of dozens of square meters is supposed to be open and bright, but now it is stunned that people have nowhere to go.
Liang Sizhe didn't appear cramped, he took off the slipper, walked barefoot in front of him, stepping on the delicately textured milky white tiles, bent over and walked all the way to pick it up, put the cushion back on the sofa, and put away the violin and piano case. Put it on the wall, as if breaking the neck of the piano had never happened: "Sit down." Then he went to the bathroom to wash his hands.
After washing, he pushed the door and walked out. He saw Cao Xiuyuan sitting on the single sofa in the living room opposite the bathroom door, his eyes seemed to fall on the smashed violin in the corner. Seeing him come out, he began to look at him unabashedly. That gaze seemed to have penetrating power, and Liang Sizhe felt a little hairy when he saw it.
He walked over and sat on the single sofa opposite Cao Xiuyuan. Although he felt uncomfortable, he still let him look at it.
"How are your fingers recovering?" Cao Xiuyuan looked at him bluntly and asked, the question was as straightforward as his sharp eyes, "Can you still play the violin?"
This year, no one dared to raise this issue in front of Liang Sizhe. Everyone thought that this issue would anger him, crush him, and make him collapse at any time. The female teacher sweated in her palms and looked at Liang Sizhe anxiously.
But Liang Sizhe looked surprisingly calm, and he didn't even think that he would be so calm when faced with this problem, as if all his thoughts about the violin had died. Died completely and completely, without any waves.
"Can't play." He said calmly.
"Have the bones grown?"
"It's grown up."
"Have you thought about your future plans this year?"
"Not yet." Liang Sizhe said.
It doesn't feel good to be questioned by a stranger, not to mention the content of being questioned is something I don't want to mention, which makes Liang Sizhe feel a little irritable.
Originally thought that the answer "can't play", the director in front of him should have lost interest in himself, but he didn't expect to ask endlessly - isn't he here to choose the kind of stuntman who can play the violin
Cao Xiuyuan was silent for a moment, his eyes always falling on his face. After a while, he asked again, "Have you thought about acting in a movie?"
"I didn't think about it." Liang Sizhe said truthfully. I thought about being a violinist.
"If you want, you can follow me to Beijing to try, since you have no plans for the future." Cao Xiuyuan looked at the man sitting next to him, "Zheng Yin, shall we go back tomorrow?"
"Yes, tomorrow morning at nine o'clock." The man responded immediately.
Cao Xiuyuan got up from the sofa, stood up, looked at Liang Sizhe condescendingly and said, "Think about it for one night. If you want to try it, follow us tomorrow."
Liang Sizhe suddenly raised his head and looked at him: "May I ask what role you are? Is it related to the violin?"
Cao Xiuyuan didn't speak, but Zheng Yin next to him spoke for him: "Yes, a boy who learns the violin."
"But I can't play the violin anymore." Liang Sizhe was still looking at Cao Xiuyuan, earnestly waiting for his answer.
Cao Xiuyuan measured him for a few more seconds before he said, "For an actor, it doesn't matter whether he can play the violin or not."
The man next to him heard this and immediately turned his head to look at Cao Xiuyuan, as if to say something, but Cao Xiuyuan obviously did not intend to leave him time to speak, so he raised his legs and walked towards the door.
In this way, Liang Sizhe followed them into the off-road vehicle to Beijing at nine o'clock in the morning the next day.
Cao Xiuyuan was right, since he has no plans for the future, let's try it.