After the manager rushed into the ward, the most worrying thing happened. Ling Lang was no longer on the bed, and the quilt was still unfolded on the bed. It was obvious that its owner was walking in a hurry.
His first reaction was to make a phone call, but after dialing the number, he remembered that the person who confiscated Ling Lang's phone was himself? Because of his stupid behavior, he can't wait to hit his head against the wall.
He walked round and round the house, repeatedly calculating whether Ling Lang would be able to get on the expressway before the highway intersection was closed if he left for the accident scene after learning the news, but with Ling Lang's character, even if he was closed to go will also walk over.
Everyone in the company who could be dispatched was sent out to find someone, but they could not alert the media. Several hours passed, but there was still no news of Ling Lang.
The desperate manager was about to call the police, but saw Ling Lang and Wu Guanfeng open the door and walk in one after another. Wu Guanfeng's complexion was not very good, but Ling Lang was strangely calm.
The manager held up his cell phone and stared at him dumbfounded for a long time, before Ling Lang seemed to suddenly realize that there was an extra person in the room.
"Why are you here?" His tone was calm, as if the question was just to let the other party know that he was aware of the other party's existence, rather than really wanting an answer.
"I..." The agent looked at Ling Lang and then at Wu Guanfeng, "I'll see how you are... Where have you been? Why are you with him?"
"The hospital is too stuffy, he came to visit, I asked him to take me out to get some air," Ling Lang replied lightly.
The manager stared at the blue-faced man behind Ling Lang in disbelief, repeatedly asked with his eyes several times, and the reply he got was "Yes, he already knows."
"The doctor said that I have recovered, right?" Ling Lang asked suddenly.
"Uh, um," the agent nodded reluctantly.
"I want to go home."
The agent didn't hear clearly, "What?"
"I want to go home," Ling Lang repeated again, "Help me go through the discharge procedures."
"Um..." The agent hesitated, "You can go to my house for a while..."
"I want to go home," Ling Lang said for the third time, "back to Feng Hao and me's home."
The agent had no choice but to nod and go out, dragging Wu Guanfeng out by the way.
"What's the matter? Why did you suddenly appear here?"
Wu Guanfeng was also very innocent, "I really just came to check on my brother's illness."
The agent's voice sank, "Did you take him to the scene?"
"Correct, we were at the scene... nearby when the accident happened."
The agent was stunned, "What?"
After Wu Guanfeng told the whole story of what happened, the agent wanted to strangle him again, "I know why Weiya can't kill you, fall from a horse and trample you, and bombs can't kill you... Because you are in a thin line of life and death. The cause of death above is death, if you didn't do it, you wouldn't even accept it from the Lord of Hell."
"Huh?" Wu Guanfeng foolishly believed, "Is that so?"
The agent took two steps forward, thought of something, and then turned around, "How is the scene?"
Wu Guanfeng's expression suddenly became extremely dignified. The agent's questioning brought him into bad memories. He shook his head with a livid face. The manager's heart also sank to the bottom, but Ling Lang also made him feel uneasy. He must settle Ling Lang as soon as possible, and then rush to deal with Feng Hao.
Due to Feng Hao's accident, the reporters and fans gathered at the entrance of the hospital had already evacuated, which made Ling Lang discharged from the hospital smoothly.
On the way back, the manager would look back every few seconds, the expression on Ling Lang's face remained the same, which made him even more worried.
"Are you… really all right?"
Ling Lang slowly raised his eyes, "Are you talking about Feng Hao?"
"..." The agent didn't know what to say.
Ling Lang cast his eyes out of the window, his tone was so flat as if he was reading a line.
"If he was alive, I would worry about him and be nervous about him, but now that he is dead, what's the use of me being sad? People can't be resurrected after death."
The agent chewed on his words. If the person in front of him was an ordinary person, he could judge the truth from the eyes of the other person. But what he is facing now is an actor, a person who can fool hundreds of millions of viewers with his acting skills.
Based on what he knew about Ling Lang, he would definitely not be such a heartless person. But Ling Lang, who didn't know Feng Hao before, also had such a posture.
"You asked me in the hospital before I believed you," the agent said after pondering, "No matter how many times you ask me, my answer is, believe."
Ling Lang's eyelashes trembled and he didn't say a word.
After the manager sent Ling Lang to his home, he left in a hurry. Before leaving, he returned the phone to Ling Lang. Ling Lang turned on the phone, and dozens of missed calls were all from the same person, but now that person would never dial the number again, the copper ring on the phone only rang once, but it became a never-ending ring.
No one came to the house for a few days, and some places were covered with a thin layer of ash. Ling Lang put on his casual clothes and started cleaning the room. When cleaning, sometimes he is Ling Lang, cleaning the apartment that Mr. Mo bought for him by himself. Sometimes he was Feng Hao, and Ling Lang sat on his knees at the door not far away, watching him intently. He has been acting for more than ten years and knows how to play everyone, and he can play many people at the same time, so that everyone will not be alone.
He packed up everything that should not belong to this room, the props that Feng Hao used on him, the props that made him tremble and begged for mercy, the underwear that once made him blush, the rows of divisions of labor The clear collars were sorted into a cardboard box and sent to the top of the mountain where no one was seen by the moonlight, where they were buried and burned one by one.
It was already midnight when we descended from the mountain, and now this room is no different from an ordinary apartment. The collar with the bell was kept by Ling Lang selfishly. Just think of it as a dog home.
There was only the huge photo in the bedroom, which Ling Lang was reluctant to burn. He found a snow-white bed sheet and carefully covered it. After doing all this, he looked around, and the room didn't seem empty because there was one less person and less things, but because it was filled with memories everywhere, it made people feel so full.
Ling Lang pressed the CD player's play button, and the melody of "Be My Eyes" sounded leisurely. He closed his eyes, and Feng Hao appeared beside him, stroking his cheek gently, every note seemed to be sung to him by his ear, and he could even feel the breath he exhaled.
When the manager received the phone call from Ling Lang, he was arguing with his colleagues in the company about whether to hold a memorial service. Feng Hao was probably one of the most disrespectful entertainers in the entertainment industry. Even the final farewell ceremony was suggested to be cancelled.
The manager was the one who objected the most. No matter what wrongs he had done during his lifetime, the dead were the worst, and he should always be given a ride, not to mention that there was no conclusion about what he did right. The main point of view that agrees with the faction is that they are worried that the extreme fans will cause trouble, which will not affect the company well.
"It's already this time, why haven't you slept yet?" The manager ran out of the conference room and shut the door for everyone's argument. Even so, Ling Lang could hear the crowd.
"Are you still working overtime?"
"Well, we're discussing... discussing the issue of aftermath," the agent patted his hair.
"Have you decided a day?" Ling Lang asked calmly.
"This, because the body will be brought back to the United States by his eldest brother, so it is very likely... it will be held there..." The agent hesitated.
Ling Lang didn't see any strong reaction, and only said, "Okay, I see."
The agent breathed a sigh of relief, "You're just sick, rest early, and I'll ask the assistant to take care of you tomorrow morning."
"No," Ling Lang declined, "I'm fine here, I don't need anyone to take care of me."
"Really?" The agent was not at ease. "My side will be very busy in the past few days, and I may not have time to accompany you."
"I'm fine," Ling Lang said, "I just want to tell you, I want to be alone for a few days, please don't let the media disturb me."
The agent thought for a while, "That's fine, you try to go out as little as possible and stay at home more."
"Don't worry, I will definitely do it this time," Ling Lang replied obediently.
"Remember to have breakfast on time."
"Um."
"Have lunch on time."
"Um."
"Eat every meal on time."
"Um."
"Don't go online and read less newspapers."
"Um."
The manager made several more requests, and Ling Lang agreed without hesitation. It was rare for him to be so obedient, and even the manager felt uncomfortable.
"Then, that's it, you go to bed early."
Ling Lang suddenly called out his name, almost making him think he heard it wrong.
"what?"
"Thank you."
The agent suddenly felt his knees soften. What is this unbearable sense of weight
The door of the conference room was slammed open, and an angry assistant appeared at the door, "What are you doing hiding here? Feng Hao is about to leave alone, these heartless selfish ghosts!"
The agent looked at the phone again, Ling Lang had already hung up the phone, and without thinking about it, he picked up the phone and entered the room.
Ling Lang hung up the phone, muted the phone, and went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
The soft click of the water glass falling on the bedside table happened to step on the end of the song. Ling Langping was lying on the bed, and the second he closed his eyes, the prelude of the looped playback sounded again, and he peacefully fell asleep amid Feng Hao's gentle singing.
In the days that followed, the agent was almost in a daze, with countless media to deal with, a mountain of affairs to deal with, and no more than 12 hours of sleep in a few days. Energy to think about other things. When he finally finished a paragraph, it was five days later in the morning.
The last phone call with Ling Lang was the other person who took the initiative to call him that night and asked to be quiet. The manager couldn't think of a better way than this, so he simply didn't bother them for the past few days.
After looking at the time, the manager called Ling Lang's phone and turned it off. He turned around and wanted to call his assistant to take a look at the other party's house, but he saw the little girl who was also busy all night lying on the table and sleeping soundly.
The agent sighed, didn't wake her up, and drove there by himself. Feng Hao's song was actually played on the radio, and the anti-ban frenzy seemed to come to an end the moment Feng Hao passed away, and no one would have trouble living with the deceased. The voices of mourning also sounded one after another, although not as much as expected, but at least not bleak.
The manager parked the car in front of the red-light intersection. The singing on the radio just reached its climax. A grief surged from the bottom to the top. He raised his head and let the tears that had not yet come out of his eyes flow back.
This is the first time he has the urge to cry these days. It turns out that people can really forget everything when they are busy. If Ling Lang leaves him one day, I don't know if he will be like now, so busy that he doesn't even have time to be sad.
The red light turned green, and the car waiting at the intersection did not move. It wasn't until the driver behind him honked his horn twice that the manager stepped on the accelerator as if he had just woken up from a big dream.
His right eye twitched uncontrollably, and the manager rubbed his tired eyes. After seeing Ling Lang, he must go home and get a good night's sleep.
The doorbell rang for a long time, but no one answered. The manager called Ling Lang's cell phone again, but it was still turned off.
Ling Lang always got up early, there was no reason to sleep at this time, the manager slapped the door vigorously a few times, and the room was as quiet as if no one was there.
He rang the doorbell over and over again, and the increasingly rapid bell reflected his unease, the agent's right eye began to jump wildly, and an ominous foreboding swept through him.
He began to smash the door desperately, calling Ling Lang's name, the first time he hated Feng Hao for not giving him a spare key.
The movement attracted the security guards of the community. Feng Hao once asked him to set foot here as little as possible, and even the security guards regarded him as unfamiliar.
"My friend is inside, I have to go in!"
"Either you call him, or you let him open the door. If you make trouble like this, it will affect the neighbors."
"He's turned off his phone and the door doesn't open now, what do you want me to do?!"
"Maybe it's because he's not at home, try another contact method."
"You don't understand! I had an intuition that he was in the house, and now I suspect he is in danger!"
"Our community is very safe and there will be no danger. If you don't leave, I will call the police!"
The agent couldn't wait for a second. He ran to the garden to find a shovel, and without a word, he would smash the door.
The security guard was taken aback by his actions, and he quickly reached out to stop him.
"Let go!" the agent yelled.
"I called the police!" The security guard was not to be outdone.
"You report it!" The agent almost growled, he pointed at the door, "Now that person in the room is Ling Lang, if he has any problems, I will see how you are responsible!"
The agent's words really succeeded in frightening the little security guard, and the strength in his hands was also relieved by seven or eight points. The agent took this opportunity to grab the shovel and knocked heavily on the connection between the door lock and the door frame. The little security guard stood beside him at a loss, not knowing whether to stop or come forward to help.
With a muffled sound, the lock was forcibly broken by the manager, he broke through the door, and the security guard followed behind him.
The room was not quiet. There was a faint sound of singing coming from the house. The manager followed the sound and rushed into the bedroom. The discs in the CD player turned endlessly.
The white sheet covering the photo frame was slightly lifted by the wind that rolled in when the agent pushed the door. On the same snow-white bedside table, half of the water in the glass was left, and the painkillers were put aside.
And Ling Lang, lying quietly on the bed, where there is still the breath of strangers.