: Act Sixty-Three Lies

After the agent rushed into the ward, the most worrying thing still happened. There was no Ling Lang on the bed, and the quilt was still spread on the bed. There was no doubt that his master had gone hurriedly.
His first reaction was to make a call, but after dialing the number, he responded. Isn't it the person who confiscated Ling Lang's phone? Because of his stupid behavior, he could not wait to hit his head against the wall.
He walked round and round in the house, repeatedly calculating if Ling Lang set out to the accident site after knowing the news, could he rush to the highway before the highway intersection was closed, but with Ling Lang's character, he would be closed even if he walked Will walk by.
The people who can be dispatched in the company were sent out to find someone, but they couldn't alarm the media. After several hours passed, there was still no news about Linglang.
The desperate agent was ready to call the police, but saw Ling Lang and Wu Guanfeng pushed open the door and came in one after the other. Wu Guanfeng's temperament was not good. On the contrary, Ling Lang was strangely calm.
The agent held his mobile phone and stared at him like a fool for a long time, only then Ling Lang suddenly found an extra person in the room.
"Why are you here?" His tone was unwavering, as if asking questions only to let the other party know that he knew the other party's existence, not to get the answer.
"I ..." The agent looked at Ling Lang, and then Wu Guanfeng. "Let me see how you are ... Where have you been? How could you be with him?"
"The hospital is too stuffy. He came to visit the doctor. I asked him to take me out to ventilate the wind," Ling Lang replied lightly.
The agent stared at the blue-faced person behind Ling Lang in disbelief, and repeatedly asked with his eyes several times, and the response was "Yes, he already knew".
"The doctor said I was cured, didn't I?" Ling Lang asked suddenly.
"Uh, um," the agent nodded reluctantly.
"I want to go home."
The agent suddenly didn't hear clearly, "What?"
"I'm going home," Ling Lang repeated, "help me out of the hospital."
"Um ..." the agent hesitated, "you can live in my house for a while ..."
"I'm going home," Ling Lang said a third time, "back to my and Feng Hao's home."
The agent was okay, so he nodded and went out, dragging Wu Guanfeng out by the way.
"What's going on? Why did you suddenly appear here?"
Wu Guanfeng was also very innocent. "I really just came to explore Brother's illness."
The agent's voice sank. "Did you take him to the scene?"
"Correct, we were at the scene ... near the accident."
The agent froze. "What?"
After Wu Guanfeng told the story completely, the agent could n’t wait to strangle him. "I know, why does Wei Ya fall and die, you ca n’t step on your horse, you ca n’t kill you with a bomb ... because you are living The cause of death on Bo is death, if you do not die, you will not even accept Lord Yan. "
"Well?" Wu Guanfeng really believed stupidly, "Is that so?"
The agent took two steps forward, thinking about it, then turned back, "How about the scene?"
Wu Guanfeng's expression suddenly became extremely dignified, the broker's question brought him back bad memories, and Tieqing shook his head with a cheek on his face. The agent's heart also fell to the bottom, but Ling Lang's side also reassured him. He must settle Ling Lang as soon as possible before handling the matter of Feng Hao.
Due to Feng Hao's accident, the reporters and film fans gathered at the entrance of the hospital have been evacuated. Instead, Ling Lang was discharged smoothly.
On the way back, the agent had to look back every few seconds. The expression on Ling Lang's face remained the same, which made him even more worried.
"Are you ... okay?"
Ling Lang slowly raised his eyes, "Are you talking about Feng Hao?"
"..." The broker didn't know what to say.
Ling Lang cast his gaze out the window, his tone was flat as if he was reading lines.
"If he was alive, I would worry about him and nervous him, but he is dead now. What's the use of my sadness? A man cannot die again."
When the agent chewed him, if he was an ordinary person in front of him, he could also judge the truth from the other's eyes. But he is now facing the film emperor, a person who can deceive hundreds of millions of viewers with acting skills, and he has no idea whether the other party said what was true or against him.
Based on his understanding of Ling Lang, he certainly would not be such a ruthless person. But Ling Lang, who did not know Feng Hao before, was also in such a gesture. He didn't care about anyone. The seven emotions and six desires only existed in the play.
"You asked me before in the hospital, believe it or not," the agent said repeatedly, "No matter how many times you ask me, my answer is yes, believe it."
Ling Lang's eyelashes fluttered without saying a word.
After the agent sent Ling Lang home, he hurriedly left. He returned the phone to Ling Lang before leaving. When Ling Lang opened the mobile phone, dozens of missed calls all originated from the same person, but now that person will never ring the number again. The copper ringtone in the mobile phone only sounds once, but it becomes an absolute ring.
There were no people at home for a few days, and some places were covered with a thin layer of gray. Ling Lang changed into casual clothes and started cleaning the room. When cleaning, sometimes he was Ling Lang, cleaning the apartment that Mr. Mo bought for him alone. Sometimes he was Feng Hao, and Ling Lang sat on the doorway not far away and stared at him intently. He has been acting for more than ten years, knowing how to play everyone, and can also play many people at the same time, so that everyone will not be alone.
He packed up everything that shouldn't belong to this room. Those props that Feng Hao had used on him made him tremble and beg for mercy, those pieces of underwear that once made him face red and red, and the rows of division of labor The clear collars were sorted into a cardboard box and sent to the top of a mountain with few traces by the moonlight, buried and burned one by one.
It was midnight when I came down from the mountain, and now this room is no different from an ordinary apartment. The collar wearing a bell was left by Ling Lang selfishly, and the cage in the side hall was put in one place, even if it was seen. Just think that this is a dog house.
Only the huge photo in the bedroom, Ling Lang was reluctant to burn it. He found a white sheet and carefully covered it. After doing all this, he looked around. The room didn't look empty because there was less one person and less stuff, 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 "BeMyEyes" sounded leisurely. He closed his eyes, Feng Hao appeared beside him, and gently stroked his cheek. Every note was like he sang to his ear and sang to him, even the breath exhaled felt.
When the agent received a call from Ling Lang, he was arguing with his company's colleagues about whether to hold a memorial service. Feng Hao was probably the least respectable artist in the entertainment industry. Some even suggested that the last farewell ceremony be cancelled.
The broker is the strongest objection. No matter what wrong he did during his lifetime, death is the most important thing, and it should always be sent to him, not to mention that it has not been concluded that he did nothing wrong. The main view of the appropriation group is that they are worried about extreme fan trouble, which will not have a good impact on the company. The two times are noisy. Ling Lang's phone call came at this time.
"It's all this time, why haven't you slept yet?" The agent ran out of the conference room and shut everyone's arguments out of the door. Despite this, Ling Lang heard the voice of people here.
"You still working overtime?"
"Well, discussing ... discussing the aftermath," the agent frowned.
"Any day set?" Ling Lang asked calmly.
"This, because the body is going to be brought back to the United States by his elder brother, so it is very likely ... it will be held there ..." the agent murmured.
Ling Lang didn't see any strong reaction. He only said, "Okay, I know."
The agent breathed a sigh of relief. "You're just sick, rest early. I'll let the assistant take care of you early tomorrow morning."
"No," Ling Lang declined, "I'm fine here, no one needs to take care of it."
"Really?" The agent was not assured. "I've been busy in the past few days, and I might not find time to accompany you."
"I'm fine," Ling Lang said, "I just want to tell you, too. I want to be alone for a few days. Please don't let the media bother me."
The agent thought about it, "That's fine, you should go out as little as possible and stay at home."
"Relax, I will do it this time," Ling Lang replied obediently.
"Remember to have breakfast on time."
"Ok."
"Eat lunch on time."
"Ok."
"Eat every meal on time."
"Ok."
"Don't go online and read less."
"Ok."
The broker made several more requests, and Ling Lang did not hesitate to respond. He rarely saw such obedience, and even the broker felt uncomfortable.
"So, that's it, you go to bed earlier."
Ling Lang suddenly called his name and almost made him think he had heard it wrong.
"what?"
"thank you."
The agent felt a soft knee, what was this unbearable sense of weight?
The door of the conference room was pulled apart, and an angry assistant appeared at the door. "What are you hiding here? Feng Hao is going to leave alone, this group of selfless ghosts!"
The agent looked at the mobile phone again. The phone call had been hung up by Ling Lang.
Ling Lang hung up the phone, muted the phone, went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.
The water glass fell on the bedside table with a slight sound, just stepping on the end of the song. Ling Langping lay on the bed, closed his eyes for a second, and the prelude to the loop just sounded again. He entered the dream peacefully in Feng Hao's gentle singing.

The following days, the agent spent almost in a bad amount of money, countless media to deal with, piled up the mountain to deal with, the total number of days of sleep did not exceed twelve hours, almost no time to spare Energy to think about other things. By the time he finally finished a paragraph, it was already five days later.
The last phone call with Ling Lang was the other party's initiative to call for quietness that night, and the agent couldn't think of a better way than this, simply didn't bother them in the past few days.
Looking at the time, the agent dialed Linglang's phone and turned it off. He turned and tried to call the assistant to take a look at each other's house, but saw the little girl who had been busy all night sleeping on the table and slept soundly.
The agent sighed and did not wake her up and drove by herself. Feng Hao's song was actually released on the radio. The anti-feng frenzy seemed to be marked with a rest at the moment Feng Hao died, and no one would be able to get along with the dead. The voices of mourning also sounded one after another, although not as much as expected, but at least not bleak.
The agent parked the car in front of the red light at the crossroads, and the song on the radio just reached the high tide, a kind of sorrow from the bottom up, he looked up, and let the tears that had not yet loomed back.
This is the first time he has the urge to cry in these days. It turns out that when people are busy, they really can forget everything. If one day Ling Lang also leaves him, I don't know if he will be like this now, too busy to have sad time.
The red light turned into a green light, waiting for the car at the intersection to remain in place. Until the driver behind him honked two horns, the agent stepped on the throttle like a dream.
The right eye jumped uncontrollably twice, the agent rubbed his tired eyes, and when he saw Ling Lang, he had to go home and sleep well.
The doorbell rang for a long time, but still no one responded. The agent called Ling Lang's mobile phone again, and it was still off.
Ling Lang always got up early. There was no reason to sleep at this time. The agent shot the door vigorously. The room was as quiet as nobody.
He rang the doorbell over and over again. The increasingly rapid ringtone reflected his uneasiness. The agent's right eye began to jump wildly, and an ominous premonition swept his body.
He began to slam the door desperately, calling Ling Lang's name, and for the first time he hated Feng Hao for not giving him a spare key.
The movement attracted the security of the community. Feng Hao had asked him to get involved as little as possible. Even the security guards saw him as strange.
"My friend is inside, I must go in!"
"Either you call him, or you let him open the door. If you make such a noise, it will affect your neighbors."
"He now shuts down his mobile phone and the door is not open. What do you want me to do ?!"
"Maybe it's because he's not home. Try another contact method."
"You don't understand! I intuitively know he's in the room, and I suspect he's in danger now!"
"The security of our community is very good. 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 smashed the door without saying a word.
The security guard was taken aback by his actions, and quickly reached out to stop them. The two clashed for one, and remained deadlocked for a long time.
"You let go!" The agent shouted.
"I called the police!"
"You report!" The agent was almost roaring, and he pointed at the door. "The person in the room is Ling Lang now. If he has any shortcomings, I think you are responsible!"
The agent's words really succeeded in frightening the small security guard, and his strength was relieved by seven or eight points. The agent took this opportunity to grab the shovel, and struck the connection between the door lock and the door frame. The security guard stood helplessly, wondering whether to stop or step forward to help.
With a muffled sound, the lock was forcibly destroyed by the agent, he broke into the door, and the security guard followed him step by step.
The room was not quiet. There was a faint song from the house. The agent rushed into the bedroom following the sound, and the discs in the CD player turned endlessly.
The white sheets covered on the photo frame were slightly angled by the wind pushed by the agent into the door. On the same white bedside table, half of the water remained in the glass, and the painkillers were set aside.
And Ling Lang, lying quietly on the bed, there is still a breath of life.