Hugo also knew that although his words were not too direct, they still touched Ernst's scales. No one likes to be exposed, and although Hugo's actions just now were cautious, he was not so familiar with Ernst after all, and the result still made Ernst angry.

Hugo didn't say much, just unhurriedly put the water cup on the coffee table, pursed his lips and smiled, "Thank you for your hospitality." Then he stood up and walked away.

Ernst sat on the sofa, listening to the sound of the door being closed, motionless, but the whole person was much older in an instant, and sat quietly with his back bent, when the gramophone vinyl record had finished playing, and the room fell into silence again, and the night outside the window seemed to perceive the silence here, and quietly penetrated in, so that the atmosphere of the whole room was slowly dimmed.

Hugo came to the third floor, but did not rush in, but looked back at the second floor, only to find that there was no sound coming from the second floor, Hugo could only sigh, open the door of the room and walk in.

If you have not experienced the life of the person, you will never be able to understand the feelings of the person. Just as Ernst didn't know the reason why Hugo was only twenty-seven years old and had such a clear idea, Hugo couldn't know Ernst's love, hate and regret for the Oscars and Hollywood at this moment.

Back in the house, no one came back, Hugo will appear at home at this point in time, originally planned to go home early to rest, and the others naturally haven't had time to get home yet. There was a kind of silence flowing slowly in the empty room, so that Hugo stood a little stunned, and subconsciously put the key into the glass bowl at the door, and the crisp sound of collision continued to echo in the hall, shattering the silence.

Hugo walked to the pool table and looked out the window at the lights of the thousands of homes, the lights below the city and the stars in the sky, setting off the deep and thick black night sky more and more, as if there was never a limit.

Hugo found that as he achieved more and more success in Hollywood, so did the troubles that followed, and every step he took was a step forward, the world he saw changed colors and shapes, and the people and things he came into contact with became more and more complex.

Originally, he thought that he would be surrounded by joy after winning the Oscar - which is true, but after chatting with Ernst, Hugo felt that his heart was heavy, and all kinds of tastes could not be distinguished, and countless thoughts could not be sorted out. Perhaps, this is the price of growth. There are always many incomprehensible problems in life, and every choice will lead to different answers, and maybe someone gets a second chance to live again, and he will live a completely different life, with a third or fourth chance, and the result will lead to a different life.

Because, in the multiple-choice questions of life, there is no right answer, and after any choice is decided, it cannot be changed, and there is no room for regret, so you can only take steps and continue to move forward. Even if you come to the end and look back at your life, only your heart can make a judgment: what is this life like? It is not success or failure, but the taste of various emotions such as sweet and sour, happy and sad, beautiful and ugly.

Some people chase money all their lives, some people worship fame and fortune all their lives, some people use force to protect themselves, and some people live for love and die for love. This is life, there is no right or wrong, there is no high or low, only you know all kinds of tastes.

Ernst is struggling to find proof of his life's worth, and works such as "West Side Story", "Hello, Dolly", and "Dragon Wind Match" are the coordinates of his life, but he has never been able to find the light that lights up the beacon of his life.

And what about Hugo? What is Hugo chasing, has he ever regretted, regretted, complained, and what kind of feelings and thoughts will he have when he reaches the end of his life?

"He plays cards, as if he meditated deeply, he never hesitates, he doesn't play cards for the money he wins, he doesn't play for the sake of respect, he looks for the answer in the game, the chance in the mysterious geometry, and the hidden string behind the ethereal ending. The numbers are flying, and I understand that spades are like arrows in the hands of soldiers, and clubs are like guns roaring on the battlefield, and that the squares in this artistic game are like money, but that's not the shape of my hearts. of。 my。 heart)。 ”

Life is like a card game, each card represents a different choice and a different fate, plum blossoms represent power, squares represent money, spades represent force, hearts represent sincerity, this different suit in the occasion of time slowly flow and change, it is easy for people to get lost in the game, can not find a breakthrough, go around and gradually become tired and become lonely and timid, looking at the suit in the hand, power, money, force, reputation fanned eyes, but this qiē is not the shape of the heart (shape. of。 my。 heart)。

This is the confusion of life, many people have been conscientious and diligent all their lives, but in the end, they found that they didn't know why they lived, struggled all their lives to the end, and suddenly looked back, only to find that they couldn't find their own existence, and there was no place for "themselves" in the huge world, whether the world was too big and they were lost in the colorful temptation and confusion, or they never realized what they really thought in their hearts.

"He may play Jack with diamonds, or he may bet on the Queen of Spades, or he may hide the king in his hand, but those memories will fade. I understand that spades are like arrows in a soldier's hand, and clubs are like guns roaring on the battlefield, and that in this artistic game the squares are like money, but that's not the shape of my hearts. ”

Hugo used the guitar strings to sketch the cold and sad notes, like the mournful and melodious voice of a bard, humming softly in the night.

The gentle resonance of the guitar strings ripples in the moonlight, weaving the coldness of the moonlight into the melody one by one, outlining the shape of loneliness lightly. Everyone comes into this world alone, alone; And when everyone leaves this world, they are also alone, alone.

Everyone is like an island, standing on this island and watching people come and go, whether it is money or power, whether it is reputation or force, can make this island very noisy and noisy, but in the dead of night, the loneliness after the crowd disperses will drown itself in an instant, until this moment will know that the loneliness in the heart is impossible to make up for by relying on materials, which is like a black hole, greedily absorbing all the vitality of the existence around him, endless.

Unless, unless you find the emotion, firmness, and identity that can really accompany you, you begin to yearn for someone to stay by your side and accompany you through the road with no end in sight, but how is it so simple?

"If I tell you that I love you, you will be a little confused, I am not a fickle person, my mask is always the same, those who talk a lot but are ignorant, they are like people who complain about their fate. I understand that spades are like arrows in a soldier's hand, and clubs are like guns roaring on the battlefield, and that in this artistic game the squares are like money, but that's not the shape of my hearts. ”

The entanglement of fate is so tired, many people have been complaining about others and their luck and fate all their lives, but they have never understood that if they let go, their fate will be in the hands of others. Everyone has the qualifications to control their own destiny, just like cards, there are countless possibilities hidden in the four suits, but the decision of which suit which card to choose, is always in their own hands.

Only those who never understand what they want, who follow others and do nothing, feel tired, because they do not know what they can gain and what they will lose, money, power, fame, and force are recognized by society and a symbol of success in their eyes, but they are not in the shape of their hearts, but no one recognizes them.

In fact, how many people understand their "shape." of。 my。 heart)"? People are always looking in life, trying to find the meaning of life, the source of happiness, and the recognition of life, but unfortunately, few people can find the answer, because they will never understand what the so-called "from the heart" means, the answer is in themselves, but they try to find the answer from others, and naturally they will never find it.

Ernst wanted to find the meaning of his screenwriting work from Oscar, so he was lost, he was mixed with hatred and deep love, and his light was gradually overshadowed by time.

Hugo has always been clear about his pursuit, and he constantly tells himself that the value of his work lies, and the praise of others, the recognition of awards, and the proof of his achievements are just additional products.

However, looking at Ernst, Hugo could not help but think of Vincent Van Gogh, whose works were not accepted by the world for a long time, and it was not until the end of the nineteenth century that the world's thinking was transformed like never before, and he was recognized accordingly. But is he happy or sad? Because he was never recognized by the world when he was alive, a life of poverty and poverty almost exhausted all his talents.

If it is not recognized, like Van Gogh, like Ernst, then can Hugo continue to do this? Does he still have the confidence to stay the course? Or conversely, after he received the initial recognition of the Oscars, will he be lost in this rush of honor and the praise that follows, will he be arrogant? What's even more terrifying is that Hugo is now standing in this vanity fair, with future troubles, frustrations, obstacles and temptations. The confusion will only grow, will he be able to continue to persevere?

When the whole song was written, Hugo only felt that his heart was empty, and all his feelings were cathartic, and the emptiness after all his feelings were cathartic could not be made up. (To be continued [Provided].) If you like this work, you are welcome to come to Kazakhstan to read and vote for the work to vote for the monthly ticket. Your support is the biggest motivation for me to continue creating! ）