Dad's eyes after reading (Zhao Haihong).

For many years, whenever Meng Qiyuan closed his eyes, his son's immature voice always sounded in his ear: "Dad, I want to draw a picture for you!" " "

Xiaolan seemed to be beside him, throwing herself in his arms and shaking his arm eagerly with both hands: "Dad, come on, come on!" " "Then, a little bit, my son's face gradually floated up in the dark imagination: round face, inch by inch like a hedgehog, high nose, pointed nose, thin lips slightly open, revealing teeth. He was changing his teeth when one of his front teeth fell out, revealing a small flesh-colored hole.

Why did Meng Qiyuan draw all the details of his son's face in his memory, but deliberately avoided the most important eyes? Yes, eyes. The inevitable door to the soul, the window of emotion. Xiaolan's call is full of attachment to his father, but his eyes are wide open, but like two stiff black stones and two small black holes, he can't express any emotions, and he will suck each other's emotions indefinitely, which will make the viewer fall into an ice cave.

Meng Qiyuan pushed his son away. Yes, this action is repeated in his memory and happened again and again in his real history. He pushed his son away. This is his first reaction. Although he immediately caught him afterwards and apologized to him, I'm sorry, my father was too busy to get carried away. Dad came to see your painting.

So the son drew it for him in an orderly way. At first, flowers and plants, white clouds and red sun, and later, when I was older, I began to draw cats, dogs, teddy bears, trucks, planes and bulldozers. Those paintings are rich in color and full of innocence and enthusiasm.

Over the years, the son painted the most, but it was his father. From dad with crooked face and simple lines to dad with square face and serious expression, before leaving, his father Meng Qiyuan was enough to enter the art museum and hang it in the hall for people to enjoy.

When did my son fall in love with painting? I should be six years old. Before that, his eyes had been blurred to see the outline of the object clearly, and he had undergone three major operations and seven adjustments and corrections. At the age of six, I was finally able to see clearly, close to the normal naked eye vision standard. That is, from then on, the colors and images of the whole world came to him, making him ecstatic. But his happy face is always embedded with a pair of completely disproportionate cold eyes.

Xiaolan, my good son ... Professor Meng's eyes are wet.

"What would you like to drink, sir?"

The flight attendant's soft voice interrupted his memory. At the moment, he is on a plane, crossing the Pacific Ocean and flying to the city where his son works.

Meng Qiyuan raised his head, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and gently replied, "Black tea, thank you."

There is half a cup of black tea on the small table in front of you. He suddenly saw his face in the red tea soup. Dark black eyes and narrow eyelids. Ah, suddenly he thought it wasn't his face. He seemed to cross the boundary between time and life and death and saw his father. My father used to be a talented young painter, a humorous father and a meticulous husband, but he was depressed after accidental blindness and died young.

Once upon a time, my father's blind and dull pupils were always shaking in front of Meng Qiyuan. He was admitted to medical school, specializing in ophthalmology, and started the latest experimental project. Along the way, he always saw his father looking at him with dull eyes. Let him suffer, but encourage him to believe that he is engaged in a great cause. However, since he made that cruel decision, he never saw his father's eyes again. Over the years, when the experiment succeeded step by step, when he gained a world-class reputation and let more and more patients see the light again, he seldom thought of his father. Long time no see. On the contrary, his son's eyes, those ruthless electronic eyes, always haunt him like a nightmare.

Professor Meng shook his head vigorously and drank the toast black tea. Movies began to play on the plane, and just released Starry Sky, a film based on the life of the painter Van Gogh.

Ah, "starry sky", how could he forget that Xiaolan bought a beautiful Van Gogh album for his son on his ninth birthday? When Xiaolan unwrapped the pink-blue wrapping paper and saw the starry sky on the album cover, she let out a gentle cry, which was moved from the bottom of her heart and turned into an airflow, surging out of her chest and heading straight for the exit. As simple as that, she said "Ah" with her long tail, and the children's clear and soft voices lit up the living room.

"Dad, the stars are turning!" Xiaolan looked up and looked at him excitedly. Her eyes are embedded with the pupil of a precision computer chip, which is a little more reflective and layered than two years ago, and it is no longer dark. But no, it's still not like the human eye. They can never express their true feelings.

"Yes, the stars are spinning." Meng Qiyuan avoided his son's "eyes". He held his son's little hand in his broad palm, and his four hands stroked the pages of the copperplate album together.

This is a magical painting. In the gloomy town of Saint Remy under the starry sky, a fiery red cypress rose from the ground in the dark. There are stars in the night sky in Van Gogh's works, and everything in the universe is moving in the direction of life energy.

Xiaolan gently opened the photo album and turned it page by page. There are warm rooms, gorgeous sunflowers, colorful earth in autumn, and apricot flowers that flourish like life. ...

"Dad, I want to draw a picture for you!" My son suddenly shrank deftly and broke away from Meng Qiyuan's arms. He rushed into his room and jingled the toolbox. Then quickly set up the drawing board.

When she was nine years old, Xiaolan began to try oil painting, perhaps inheriting her grandfather's talent. His talent for painting is amazing. Having just seen Van Gogh's picture books, he can learn to draw with that trembling and emotional brush strokes.

Xiaolan hurriedly daubed paint on the small canvas, and her wrist waved rhythmically. Pens are getting more and more skilled. When Meng Qiyuan calmly observes every detail of his son's painting, he can't help but wonder what is hidden behind this concern. -Am I a father who cares about children's growth, or a scientist who pays close attention to the experimental results? The latter explanation is chilling. But he can't avoid this possibility. He struggled with self-blame for this, and finally had to pour all his pains and doubts into his diary. Yes, only a diary. His secret can't be shared with anyone. That unfathomable dark secret.

Meng Lan stood in the empty hall of the art museum, facing the painting in the center of the exhibition hall. World: color in a hurry, life like a fountain. All the colors of nature converge, combine, split and regenerate here.

After the age of 20, his painting style changed suddenly, and he no longer pursued specific forms and real images in life. Only color, color sings on his canvas.

"Spring", "Dance", "Absolutely" and "World", the sky-high oil paintings shot by Sotheby's auction house, let him step by step onto the front desk of modern world art and become an artistic star.

Beauty in the forest is inevitably attacked by wind and rain. The story that Meng Lan was fitted with a mechanical eye by a scientist's father because of an eye injury as a child was suddenly magnified in the news media, causing an uproar. Meng Lan's father, Professor Meng Qiyuan, became the savior of the blind all over the world by improving the human eye chip ten years ago and won great glory in the scientific community. It is not unethical to try the electronic eye for my son in the experimental stage, but religious extremists accuse Meng Lan of being a semi-robot, and some artists say sourly that he is "the first person to see the world through the light of machinery". "What a brand-new world, a brand-new artistic vision, turned out to be a brand-new chip." -such sarcasm can be seen everywhere.

When Chen Ping approached Meng Lan, he thought he would see anger because the evaluation imposed on him was unfair.

Meng Lan is tall, wearing a long black trench coat, standing straight in the middle of the hall. The flowing colors on both sides of the hall converge to the back of the center and suddenly stop, like a huge black exclamation point.

"Mr. Meng, this is Chen Ping from Silence Weekly. I have an appointment with you at 3 o'clock ..."

Meng Lan turned around and faced her. He is calm and his eyes are particularly black. At first glance, she couldn't help shivering-this is the famous mechanical eye.

"Miss Chen, you interviewed me only three months ago," he said coldly. "He also sent me a magazine for an interview. Why did you come again this time? "

Chen Ping hesitated, considering how to speak. Meng Lan sneered and asked, "It's still because my mechanical eye was a secret in the last interview, and you treat me like a normal person. Now I can't wait to meet the robot painter Meng Lan. "

She couldn't stand the bitterness in his words and quickly said, "Teacher Meng, you misunderstood. I was entrusted by others. " Your father, Professor Meng, read the weekly newspaper and came to see me specially. I interviewed him ten years ago and have been in touch ever since ... "

"Ha!" Meng Lan shouted angrily: "Is he going to invite outsiders to come to me?"

"But he tried many ways to get in touch with you. You're not answering his phone. If you don't answer, you may not even read his email. He managed to find the place where you live in new york and waited outside for three days ... "

"Don't listen to him!" Meng Lan testily interrupted her, "you don't know what kind of person he is! He's going to accuse the world of my unfilial behavior? Let him go! "

"Professor Meng just wants to meet you and talk to you." Chen Ping sighed. What is the knot between father and son that led Meng Lan to run away from home after 20 years old and completely separated from his father for ten years? Even if the father wants to see his son, he should ask outsiders for help.

"You tell him that there is nothing to talk about." Meng Lan turned and walked towards the gallery. His footsteps echoed in the empty exhibition hall.

"Professor meng was afraid that you would say so. He asked me to bring you this album. " Chen Ping caught up with him in three steps and took out a big booklet from his carry-on bag. This is a carefully bound personal album, a page-by-page children's exercise. The brushstrokes in the painting are full of children's innocence. Flowers, grass, white clouds, red sun ... the most painted ones are dad, big head dad, learning dad and laboratory dad.

"Look, look." See Meng Lan stopped and handed it to him with a picture album. "Professor Meng collected your childhood works and made ten such books. He is a good father ... "

Meng Lan glanced at her with those mechanical eyes that can freeze all life and said coldly, "You don't know anything."

Chen Ping suddenly felt a chill. She has never felt so clumsy. She stood there with an album in her hand, watching him leave.

Chen Ping returned the photo album to his haggard father. "I'm sorry, Professor Meng, I can't help you. Meng Lan seems to have a deep misunderstanding about you. " Curious as she was, she knew it must involve privacy. Although he has a personal relationship with himself, she is a reporter after all. Who can safely tell the reporter the privacy? "

"I'm sorry to bother you." Meng Qiyuan took back the photo album and held it in her arms.

Chen Ping found that she was much older than ten years ago, her back was slightly rickety, and her white hair emerged from the jungle with black hair everywhere. He is not yet 55 years old, but his hair has turned gray for more than half. Where did the high-spirited middle-aged talents who stood at the highest point of medical honor in the world ten years ago go?

Meng Qiyuan clung to his son's childhood photo album, mumbled for a while, and finally made a sound: "But I have no one else to trust, Xiao Chen, please help me find him again. Tell him directly this time that I want him to have a new operation. I know he doesn't like those eyes. I can change it for him. The present technology can replace the whole mechanical eye with an ultramicro chip. He can change the human eye with a chip. " He gave a wry smile and shook his head helplessly. This is an important gift he has prepared for his son for ten years, but he has no chance to let his son accept it. Those mechanical eyes without feelings not only made his son feel inferior all his life, but also made his father feel guilty for half his life. Now, the opportunity to make up for the mistake has finally come.

Chen Ping was moved by his father. No matter how big the gap between their father and son is, she can appreciate his real concern for his son. "Ok, I'll go to him again." She promised generously, no matter how embarrassed she was.

The next day, before Chen Ping set off, he got an amazing news: terrorists anonymously called the art gallery where Meng Lan's paintings were displayed, claiming that there was a time bomb hidden somewhere in the hall. The art gallery is organizing the orderly evacuation of the audience, but the order is still somewhat chaotic. The police told people to avoid the surrounding roads as much as possible when traveling.

Chen Ping was surprised and hurried by car. When driving, listen to the latest news from the local traffic station immediately.

"The painter Meng Lan refused to leave the hall."

"The special police are forcing Meng Lan to leave the exhibition hall."

"This stubborn painting is crazy!" Chen Ping stepped on the gas and hurried to the art gallery. Just about to stop, a special police officer came to drive away: "Miss, please drive away at once."

"I'll pick up Meng Lan!" Chen Ping shouted, pointing to the direction of the art gallery. The special police was shocked and immediately said: "Under special circumstances, you can only get off the boat. Just wait here. "

The audience in the art gallery was basically evacuated. Meng Lan was driven out of the art gallery by several special police officers. He struggled and shouted, "My painting is still in it!"

Chen Ping waved and shouted, "Mr. Meng, you get on the bus first."

Chen Ping's appearance seems to distract Meng Lan. He stopped struggling and got on the bus with Chen Ping.

Leaving the noisy crowd, Meng Lan suddenly calmed down. Those eyes, those lifeless eyes that people can't see through, shoot the "eyes" of a purely analytical scientific instrument without emotion. "Have you come to see my joke?"

"I'll give your father another message." Chen Ping gently told Professor Meng Qiyuan's entrustment to him.

Meng Lan didn't respond immediately this time. He seems to be in a daze. These mechanical eyes brought him the most precious light and great pain. Growing up, except when he was alone with his father, he always felt that these eyes made him unable to integrate into the ordinary world and made him suffer endless ridicule. At first, others did not know the truth. They didn't know it was a mechanical eye. At that time, his nickname was "zombie doll" because his eyes could not express changing emotions, and they were lifeless and scary.

Grandma and grandma both died young, and mother died of postpartum complications. No woman ever loved him. But he doesn't blame them. Anyone will avoid these eyes. Even he is afraid of himself in the mirror, and even his father can't look into these eyes.

Yes, Meng Lan actually knew all along. Although the father tried to hide his sense of rejection, even he couldn't accept his son's eyes.

But father loves himself, at least before he is 20 years old, Meng Lan thinks so. But now he doesn't believe in anything.

"You tell him that I am used to these mechanical eyes." Meng Lan said coldly, "I will never do any eye surgery again."

It rained heavily that day. Meng Lan received a strange phone call. The other end of the phone said, "I'm sorry to inform you that your father has left."

Meng Lan paused in amazement. He wanted to put the phone down directly, but the other person's voice was so painful that he suddenly realized that there was another unique explanation for "leaving".

"At 8 o'clock this morning, Professor Meng Qiyuan took flight 57 1 ..."

"That plane?" Meng Lan couldn't help interrupting each other.

"Yes ..."

At nine o'clock in the morning, the news of the disaster has spread all over the world. Flight 57 1 collided with another passenger plane parked near the runway when it took off. Of the 153 passengers on board, only 19 escaped, and the survivors did not include Professor Meng.

Meng Lan was silent for a long time after getting the news. Before he arrived at the accident handling center, he dialed Chen Ping's phone.

Chen Ping once again became Meng Lan's driver. Considering that his current mental state is not suitable for driving, she insisted on sending him to the accident handling center. Meng Lan didn't say a word most of the time. "I know what you are thinking, you must blame me in your mind. But you really don't know anything Meng Qiyuan is not the person you think. The whole world was deceived by his sanctimonious appearance. "

Chen Ping can't help but sigh. Do we need to talk about this now?

Meng Lan was very excited: "When I was a sophomore in the Academy of Fine Arts, the oil painting" Father at Work "won the grand prize of the oil painting group of the College Art Competition. I clearly remember that when I took him to see the paintings in the exhibition hall, his expression was completely unexpected. He seems to want to laugh and cry with embarrassment. Finally, he hugged me, shaking all over, muttering: thank you, I'm sorry. Thank you. sorry He kept repeating these two words.

"That night, he gave me a diary. When I was one year old, I was accidentally injured when I went out with my nanny, and what he did to me. As my emergency doctor, he actually tampered with the medical record and changed the superficial abrasion into a serious injury that needed to remove the eyeball. Then, as the sole guardian, I was authorized to participate in the project he personally presided over and installed the electronic eyeball, which is still in the experimental stage. In his diary, he said that at that time, he spoke out of turn, and his project could not get a suitable subject for half a year in a row, which was in danger of dismounting. He even said that maybe his son is the most suitable choice, because he can observe me for a long time to see if the electric eye can meet or even exceed the standards of the human eye. "

Chen Ping suddenly heard such a secret, a little flustered and at a loss. She clutched at the steering wheel blankly. She remembered the smiling scientist interviewed ten years ago. His sincerity in science deeply touched her. He is a cruel father who sacrificed his young son for fame and fortune? "Maybe ... maybe some people think it is worthwhile to sacrifice a few people for the happiness of most people. Maybe he thinks his son belongs to himself, so he does it out of selflessness ... "

"I'm not his private property! I am alone! I belong to myself! No matter what the so-called noble purpose is, he has no right to do so! " Meng Lan roared.

Chen Ping sighed. In any case, she believes that Meng Qiyuan's guilt is sincere.

Meng Lan frowned when identifying the body. Meng Qiyuan's body curled up into a ball, his head hidden between his chest and abdomen, as if to protect his face with his whole body. And his hand, covering his eyes tightly.

"Why is this posture?" Meng Lan muttered in an almost inaudible voice.

Chen Ping gently handed him an envelope. "He asked me to bring it to you before I left."

Meng Lan took out a thin piece of writing paper with some hesitation. On the paper is his kind handwriting, which he is so familiar with, but I haven't seen it for years.

"Xiaolan, the biggest regret in my life is to give you a pair of cold eyes. I hope you can agree to the operation and let me transplant my eyes to you. I have an appointment with my colleague in City A, who is an expert in the field of eye transplantation. I hope you can go to him for a check-up as soon as possible. If the conditions are right, the operation can be carried out next month.

Dad "

Meng Lan's body is like leaves in a storm, shaking violently round after round. Chen Ping reached out sympathetically and hugged him, so he leaned in her arms and began to cry. All the lines on his face are crumpled, and the flame of pain burns him, but the window of his soul is still cold, expressionless and without tears.

"Sorry, Professor Meng's eyeball is no longer suitable for surgery." She told him softly.

"I like my eyes now." His mouth twitched upward. "These are the eyes my father gave me."