A person who knows why to live can bear anyhow to live.
If you know why you live, then you must know how to survive. ──Nietzsche
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"Professional ethics, and faith." He said.
"Professional ethics, and faith." The people around me repeated thoughtfully.
The talking man has sharp and clear eyes. He is dressed in black casual clothes and black metal framed glasses on the bridge of his nose: "Some female reporters also have families with children. You can't judge them from the eyes of the world. If they rush to On the front line of artillery fire, should they criticize them for abandoning their husbands and children and have no sense of family? Should they criticize them for disregarding their own children who are sleeping thousands of miles away?"
Shen Yu, the owner of this office, looked at the old friend in front of him.
The man stretched his legs and leaned back on the chair:
"Everyone hopes that someone has the courage to give, but the one who wants to give is not his family and lover."
Sitting in the conference room was a foreign girl with brown hair and obvious wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. Her right hand had been removed from under her elbow, and only a metal hook was installed instead of a real hand. She was holding the folder freely with the hook and flipping through the information with her left hand: "Two men, please don’t be so saintly war reporters. We have high salaries and vacations. What we do is also paid. For my children to study and buy a house. Recently, I have been looking at the house under the guidance of an intermediary. The rent is really expensive. I think I still have to return to Iraq to settle down."
She speaks Chinese really well, but she uses some words that are incredible.
For example: the "guidance" of the intermediary.
They laughed.
The foreign girl also laughed, having a headache because of China's high housing prices. She couldn't understand why the housing prices here are so high. The cost of buying two or three rooms here is enough for her to buy an independent house with a garden in her own country.
As she spoke, she had already received another call from the intermediary.
"Cheng Yang," Shen Yu leaned over, and asked his former high school classmate in the most common and careful tone of a question that he wanted to understand, "How did you come here in Iraq in the past few years?" "
"Me?" He looked at each other calmly, without much emotion, "I didn't do anything useful. After being kidnapped in August 2003, a good brother died. The only good thing is that I came back alive. ."
——
In the winter vacation of 2007, she got her first job.
While preparing the master's thesis, she squeezed into the work force three days a week, rushed to the company in time, and clocked in to work. She was lucky to find a job before graduation. After all, the employment environment for postgraduate students in the Department of Foreign Languages is getting worse and worse. Xinhua News Agency and Foreign Research Institute seem to prefer undergraduates more and more.
Many people choose to work as English teachers in colleges and universities in order to stay in Beijing.
"Ji Yi, you are from Beijing, and you are much happier, and you don't have to worry about finding a job. When you graduate, you can live at home and find it slowly." This is what she hears most.
In the face of such envy, I will keep my default attitude.
A year and a half ago, after graduating from her senior year and before entering another university for postgraduate studies, she had disconnected from all the people in the past. When she was a child, she always felt that Beijing was big. Over the past year or so, she finally had a concrete concept of "Beijing is very big", so big that... you won't meet people you have known in the past 21 years.
Ji Yi stood at the charge counter of Yonghe Soy Milk, looking up at the price of the menu.
"Oh, it's over, I forgot to bring my wallet," the little girl beside her face suddenly changed, she looked at Ji Yi embarrassedly, "What should I do, Teacher Ji... I was too anxious when I came out, put my wallet away. It's on the table."
"It's okay," Ji Yi was very embarrassed when she was called "teacher", "I brought it, I'll treat you to it."
The little girl has just graduated from a bachelor’s degree and worked in a public relations company. Remember to respect the media reporters and teachers. She kept apologizing to Ji Yi. When both of them bought the set meal, they sat by the window and started eating. He also said guiltily: "Our company reimburses hospitality expenses. I really shouldn't let you please. Teacher Ji is sorry, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, I can also be reimbursed." Ji Yi had to continue to comfort her.
When he laughed, the little tiger teeth appeared, and he looked very friendly.
In fact, because she is an intern, the meal fee is only subsidized, not reimbursed.
This lunch has two sets of meals, and I ate her food for a week. On the way to return to the agency, she had to recalculate the distribution of meals this week. When she walked from the bus stop to the newspaper office, she happened to ran into her colleague He Feifei who jumped out of the taxi. When she saw her, she couldn't help complaining: "Why don't you take a taxi? You can be reimbursed for working hours. ."
"The reimbursement will take one month," Ji Yi had to pull off the scarf a little, revealing the lower half of his face, "I don't have much cash. I'm really waiting for the reimbursement... I'm probably going to starve to death."
"Internships are like this," He Feifei said. "When I did my internship last year, I also felt that I was desolate, and I had to work like a regular reporter. I had to pay for my travel expenses and meals first. The living expenses provided by my family were really not enough."
Two people squeezed into the elevator, standing next to each other, it was inconvenient to chat.
This is an ordinary afternoon.
The usual is the same as the afternoon when I come to work every week.
Occasionally, I need to go out to do errands, or sit in the office for meetings and help old reporters.
What is unusual is that when you step out of the elevator, you can see the busy seniors who do their own things and are discussing things in a low voice. Ji Yi put his bag on the black swivel chair, just pressed the switch of the computer case, and heard the intern in the grid next door say that the new executive editor is finally in place, and he is an absolutely attractive man.
It is said that I am looking for someone to talk to one by one.
"Married?" He Feifei's question is really simple and straightforward.
"I don't know, Sister Feifei, all the key reporters and editors were asked to talk to. Interns like us, don't have this opportunity. I don't know if I can stay in the future."
As my colleague Yuemo said, this person was also airborne. No one except the editor-in-chief knew his specific resume, but an old reporter recognized that person as a well-known reporter in the circle.
After all, it is the executive editor, a position second only to the chief editor, it is impossible to be a pure newcomer.
"I used to be a war correspondent, experienced the Iraq War, and was quite famous in Beijing circles... Let's chat with us now..."
Ji Yi originally sat down and was about to open his mailbox to receive mail. Hearing these words, slowly, his fingers on the keyboard stopped. Some crazy conjectures flowed in her mind, pulling out the deepest thoughts in her heart that had been forcibly suppressed for so long.
Before my colleague finished speaking, he saw Ji Yi leave her cubicle and strode towards the meeting room. Someone pulled her to help her organize a document along the way, but she just walked over. NS.
Until, standing at the door of the conference room.
Right here, she finally stopped.
In the entire conference room separated by white walls, the voices of men were heard. The door was four or five centimeters thick and separated the real conversation. Only a few men could be heard.
Occasionally there is a woman's voice, which seems to be in English.
She kept telling herself that everything was not true. Ji Chengyang must have encountered something unexpected, but she didn't dare to deepen this thought. She seemed to freeze her heart and she didn't want to touch it.
If it was him, she would be afraid.
Afraid that those are the truth, there really was a romantic battlefield wedding a few years ago.
Not him, she would be more afraid.
A few years have passed, and I am getting more and more afraid of hearing the real bad news...
Even expect him to continue living somewhere, and don't want him to really lose his life, and don't have Ji Chengyang in this world. Ji Yi took a deep breath, his chest was stuffy and painful, and his heart kept leaping and falling again.
She was quiet, afraid to move.
If you don’t have him in the door...that means you want to ask for leave from your department leader and go back to school...
If he was really inside... Would it be such a coincidence
Someone walked by and looked at her strangely: "Looking for your boss? Where's inside."
She hummed, bending her fingers, and finally knocked on the door.
Then push it away.
There were four or five people in the conference room, including her immediate boss, the editor-in-chief and two people she didn't know. And when she saw the man who was sitting in a black swivel chair with his eyes closed, facing the door, all the voices and pictures disappeared.
In sight, there was only such a man left.
It is still so tall and eye-catching, even at this moment, with obvious illness and a somewhat casual and uncomfortable sitting posture, but it still looks much taller than the few men around him.
"Ji Yi?" Her boss was a little surprised, "Something?"
Ji Chengyang was awakened by a sound, opened his eyes to search for the owner of the name.
He held his hand on the white conference table and slowly got up from the black swivel chair. Look clearly at the girl standing at the door of the conference room staring at her. The short black hair curled up slightly in her ears, setting off the face that made him unforgettable and dreaming so clear and beautiful. In his eyes that were always calm and stagnant, there was finally a stormy sea.
If there is a pile of dead people, in front of a friend’s body, in the torture of inhumane torture, what reason can support him to live, live, live until he can crawl out of the purgatory on earth, stand up, and live to this day, the reason is only one.
Only her.