Wrong Seriousness

Lu Zhengyao lived for twenty-seven years and never believed that there was anything that money could not buy. If so, it must be that the price is not high enough. The day I first met Xu Yanzhou, the sand and dust at the construction site in the north of the city were picked up by the hot July wind, and half of the sky was obscured. The young designer stood in front of the projection screen in the judging hall, pressing three hand-drawn manuscripts with his fingers. His voice was not loud, but he bit each word firmly. His ears were red and his eyes were clean. When he was cornered by his tricky questions, he would not dodge and come back with data one by one. Lu Zhengyao leaned on the back of his chair and his eyes fell on Xu Yanzhou's fingers holding the pen - the knuckles were clear and there was a thin layer of cocoon. He suddenly felt that he could have this prey. So what happened next. Sky-high price drawing equipment, top-notch late-night snacks delivered in the middle of the night, and thunderous methods to suppress difficult partners. He used money to pave a dazzling golden road, drawing Xu Yanzhou into his territory step by step. He blocked the person in a corner in the corridor on a rainy night, and when his breathing was intertwined, he chuckled and said, "Designer Xu, your ears are red again." No confession. No status. There is no word that confirms the relationship. Xu Yanzhou thought this was love. He regarded every gesture of kindness thrown by Lu Zhengyao as a treasure, carefully kept it, took it out and chewed it over and over in the middle of the night when he was left out, lying to himself that that person was just too busy, not good at expressing, and just not ready to make it public yet. Until the Lu family's annual cocktail party. The wealthy children surrounded him and said in moderate voices, "Isn't this the gadget that Mr. Lu raised?" Xu Yanzhou stood on the edge of the crowd holding the final drawing that had been revised for three months, waiting for Lu Zhengyao to say a word for him. Lu Zhengyao did speak. What he said is—— "He is just a designer I paid to hire. Don't get me wrong." The tone was casual, as if he was clarifying a trivial matter. After speaking, he didn't even look at Xu Yanzhou. That night, Xu Yanzhou returned to the apartment and packed all the things Lu Zhengyao had given him - customized pens, high-end watches, apartment keys - one by one into cardboard boxes. Then he put the carton in the hall, blocked all contact information, and bought a ticket for the earliest train leaving the city. He's gone. It's not because I don't love you anymore. It was because he finally saw clearly - from beginning to end, the sincerity he had mistakenly believed was just a pastime that Lu Zhengyao spent money on. --- It took Lu Zhengyao a whole year to understand what he had lost. The man's manuscript is still spread out on the drawing table in the apartment, and the traces of the pencil are blurred by repeated rubbing. He flipped through the drawings with clean lines and looked at them one by one, as if he was looking for some answer. Qi Jin stood at the door and looked at him for three seconds. "What's the point of crying? Who said that in the first place, it was just a paid designer?" Lu Zhengyao said nothing. He just turned the drawing over and looked at the clear and thin pencil signature in the lower right corner. He suddenly remembered an afternoon long ago - Xu Yanzhou squatted on the ground to collect the drawing. He deliberately got very close to trap the person between the conference table and his chest. The redness at the base of Xu Yanzhou's ears at that time was real. That sincerity that was mistakenly recognized is also true. And he crushed it in the stupidest way possible. --- Later, people in the circle were saying that the young man of the Lu family was crazy. He gave up most of his overseas business and drove to a studio to squat downstairs every morning; he was scolded in the face by his assistant without saying a word; he who used to spend a lot of money now learned to buy breakfast with his own hands, learned to wait for people all day in the rain, and learned not to use money to measure feelings. Someone asked him, Lu Zhengyao, what are you planning? He said, I hope that person will believe me again. It took Xu Yanzhou a long, long time before he was willing to stand in front of Lu Zhengyao again. His eyes were still so clean, and the roots of his ears were still red, but the look he looked at Lu Zhengyao no longer had the same look and expectation as before. Only after a period of pain that has been repeatedly liquidated, what remains is an equal look. He said, Lu Zhengyao, I will not mistake him again. Lu Zhengyao stood opposite him, his voice hoarse. "It doesn't matter." He said, "This time, it's me who will admit it." "I'll recognize you." Intention: Pretends cannot buy sincerity. All charity and overlooking in the name of love will eventually be repaid with the most painful loss.