How do you commemorate Leslie Cheung every year?

From last night to today, it has been raining, as if even heaven was brewing sorrow for the fall of a prosperous and sad person many years ago.

When I walked out of the coffee shop, I saw Leslie Cheung's songs premiered on the huge LCD screen of KTV opposite, from The Moon Represents My Heart to Monica, and from The Wind Blows Non-stop to Me, which seemed to remind me of this Hong Kong-made artist who once touched and made many people sad.

Although my favorite song "Stars" is not broadcast, whenever I think of the lyric "Will you think of me when you see that bright star", I will feel melancholy. Believe it or not, it is warm, because I will really think of him.

I know he won't hear or feel again. After all, we have been separated for so many years, but I know it is enough.

I stood there, listened to a few songs stupidly, and then went downstairs. I thought sadness would slowly drown my heart, but strangely, I didn't feel much.

Maybe it's because I'm no longer too presumptuous because I'm young, maybe my heart is really not as cautious as before, maybe I like this man from beginning to end, not as deep as many people, although I was moved by many of his screen images.

Sometimes, I even have doubts. I don't even remember my grandmother's anniversary. She loves me so much. When I was in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I might not even be able to go home and light some incense for my dead relatives. After so many years, I have let go, and my eyes will no longer be wet with regret or sadness, but I care too much about the anniversary of a favorite artist. Isn't that a little ironic?

Maybe it's because you can't remember yourself, others will help you remember, and the media will help you remember, but this annual "sense of ceremony" is something I can't help feeling empty.

I am willing to spend my whole life remembering someone, and I don't deny that I will spend a day forgetting him, but as long as I think of him one day, he is always unforgettable, and I think this is my greatest compliment to him.

This is just my idea. What I still like about this man from the bottom of my heart is the flirting in Farewell My Concubine, and the tenderness and hatred of "laughing away the enmity". It's the wandering look of rouge buckle, not enough. He still has a peerless smile on his lips, which is the lost figure when he lingered in Buenos Aires in spring. Only after wandering alone did he suddenly realize that he had no affectionate partner to go home except pale memories. It is also his unrestrained figure riding a motorcycle on the banks of the Seine in Across the Sea. For a long time, I thought that Leslie Cheung played the playboy in Yi Shu's novel The Knockout.

But I like being alone. Of course, I don't need to face that person day and night to cope with daily necessities. I prefer to remember his bright side, because I don't care if he has a broken soul, a bumpy life and a sad ending. To put it bluntly, it is really something that weighs thousands of dollars opposite me. Instead of deliberately smearing and rendering, it is better to hold a feeling that a friendship between gentlemen is as light as water.

Of course, I am not criticizing or poking fun at it, because I like it deeply and shallowly. Maybe some people really love too much, so it's worth understanding. Who told him that he was really unique, unique and beautiful?

He's gone, and after so many years, I still miss him, just like I missed a bright and moving side face I saw in the subway, like a graceful Emei moon hanging quietly in the dark Shan Ye, just like the first time I saw Yuanyang Jasmine, when purple and white petals complement each other, it was clear and happy.

I won't be sad and I won't cry. I can also watch one of his old movies, the ashes of time, ghost stories, or the story of punk. He is young, melancholy and lonely, but handsome. It's good that he is still young before my eyes.

After many people left us, they gradually became a bleak background in our memory. With the passage of time, they can only gradually become light and become natural beings. I don't think it is necessary to make an overly sad and insincere gesture. Even Zhang himself certainly doesn't want to see such a scene.

Just like I walked through the bright twilight in Harbin, the quiet Mengdong in Nanluoguxiang and the bright lights in Haihe River, I regarded the scenery along the way as the most beautiful and graceful brushwork in my life. I missed them, I missed them after all, but every time I look back, they are still beautiful, still so lonely and so emotional.

At night, the sky suddenly cleared up. After a while, the circle of friends took turns to show the clear blue sky, like a group carnival, and I couldn't avoid it. A friend, a romantic, said with emotion, I will watch this day until the night falls inch by inch. Suddenly I thought of the sentence that once moved me in Faulkner's novels: "Listen to the sound of falling inch by inch at night."

I haven't seen such a blue sky for a long time That kind of blue, pure, exquisite, low-key. This is a blue color reminiscent of the animation directed by Miyazaki Hayao. It is poetic and ethereal, not too extensive and profound, but it makes people feel happy from the heart.

But I prefer the bright sunset outside the window to the picture of an old house full of withered vines, rather than the blue sky that people are eager to praise.

You see, although I am old, vicissitudes and hardships, the sun is still willing to care. I am not as optimistic and cheerful as you think, but I will never pretend to be sad.

Just like when I was reading Sanmao's works, I was moved by her authenticity again and again, stirred by her poetic and wonderful life, and provoked like a flowering tree by her vivid and interesting love story with Jose. I naturally know that she finally lost her eternal lover without regrets, and I naturally know that she finally ended her life in an extreme way.

I accept it, just like accepting that all spring has gone to the East, accepting the summer heat from summer to the future, and accepting that the end of dawn is dawn. I'm not very sad or disappointed. I know that she once lived, and she lived more brilliantly than anyone else. She used to love so much that many people yearned for it. She used to be beautiful, fascinating.

When I looked at the photo of her sitting comfortably in the desert, I felt an admiration coming to my heart. Sometimes, beauty is something that makes people speechless for a moment, as if frozen by a primitive curse.

You will forget any words for a while, and forget the disturbances and changes that haunted your mind not long ago. At this moment, you are like a virgin in a new bath, with shocking purity and beauty in your eyes.

Just like I often see Leslie Cheung wearing a black suit, with a slightly darker skin and handsome photos, I also feel pleasing to the eye and good-looking, which is enough.

Suddenly I remembered that vulgar sentence: "The sun is always after the storm." How superficial, but how appropriate.

I think that's Leslie Cheung's most beautiful smile to me, like the shy smile when he took a photo with Duan Xiaolou, like the smile he showed off to the painter at the bridge, like the most touching smile in my memory.