Why Do You Lie

The autumn wind rolled over from the empty streets in the distance, bringing with it the coolness of November and a bit of the smell of burning weeds. They stood side by side on the balcony, a fist's length between their shoulders, just enough for the wind to blow through. The path downstairs was empty. There were cars parked here during the day, and now only the street lamp that had been broken for a year was still flickering on and off. The dim yellow light spread across a small patch on the ground, like accidentally spilled overnight tea. Occasionally, a sycamore leaf runs past the ground, making a dry rustling sound. It stops after running for a few steps, and then runs again when the next gust of wind comes. Tang Yan finished smoking his third cigarette. He pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and crushed it twice. The ashes dispersed, revealing the fine white bits underneath. He stared at the white space for two seconds, and when he spoke, his voice was lower than usual, as if he was trying to convince himself. "Will you come to Guangdong with me?" JAC did not move. She leaned on the railing and crossed her arms, raising her chin slightly and looking at the end of the road. There was nothing there, just darkness beyond the reach of the streetlights. After a long time, Jiang Huai spoke in a calm voice. "Do you remember the fifty questions we did last year? One of them was 'If you were destined to only be in love for one more year, how would you spend it?'" Tang Yan tightened his grip on the railing. His knuckles turned white for a moment, then relaxed. He lowered his eyes, looked at the dim light downstairs, and was silent for a few seconds. The night wind ruffled his hair a little, but he didn't raise his hand to take care of it. "Remember," he said. These two words were spoken very slowly, as if they were fished out from a very deep place. Jiang Huai nodded. She looked at the red car in the distance - it had been parked there for a long time, with a few sycamore leaves falling on the roof. She never turned her head to look at Tang Yan. "I'm going home." These four words fell, lightly, and were blown away by the wind. Jiang Huai withdrew his gaze, turned around, and his shoulder brushed against her, causing a little rustling of clothing. She pushed open the glass door of the balcony, and the light in the living room leaked from the crack in the door, cutting a bright edge on her back. When the door was halfway open, she paused and did not look back. "It's too late, go to bed." The glass door closed behind her with a soft muffled sound. The sound was half swallowed by the wind, and when it fell in Tang Yan's ears, it was already soft, as if there was something behind it. Tang Yan was still standing on the balcony. He took out another cigarette from the cigarette case, held it in his mouth, and lit the lighter twice. The flames swayed violently in the wind. He held it with his hands, got closer, and took a deep breath. The smoke was spit out and immediately blown away by the wind. He raised his head and looked in the direction of the living room. Jiang Huai's figure passed by the floor-to-ceiling window and walked into the back room. The light stretched her shadow very long, dragged it on the floor, and then disappeared. Tang Yan put out the newly lit cigarette on the railing. Sparks splashed down and were blown by the wind into the darkness downstairs. He turned around, rested his elbows on the cold railing, and looked at the empty road again. The street lights are still on. The red car is still parked. He stood there for a long time. Intention: Find yourself