【Lou Cheng】 How easy is another day

Spring breeze does not change

Books are not accepted.This is a thank you letter to everyone.Write slowly, take your time.Thank you for your love, I am ashamed.This is the last episode of "Bie Day He Yi". After writing this, this series will not be written again.

It was almost midnight when Mingcheng returned home from the dinner party tonight.

He drank some wine at night, and the driver should have delivered him, but thinking that Minglou should come back from Berlin today, he drove by himself and rushed home as soon as possible.

When I got home, I saw lights, but I didn't see Minglou's car in the yard.Mingcheng felt vigilant all of a sudden, after a little weighing, he still took out a small knife that was kept in the car, stuffed it into his pocket, then stopped the car as usual, straightened his coat, put one hand in the pocket, and the other Flip the key to open the door.

After entering the door, the corridor light was also on, and the first thing he saw was the stained glass plate on the shoe cabinet in the entrance: this was the secret signal between the two.If the only single piece of key in the plate is missing, it means that something has changed, and the other party must evacuate immediately and report to the embassy in Bern.

The key was still there, but Mingcheng's heart was only half relaxed, and his hand in his pocket was tightened instead. He pressed the handle of the knife and walked silently into the house.

The kitchen is the closest to the door, he pushed it open, and the tense nerves relaxed in the next second: "I didn't see your car, I thought something happened!"

Minglou sat down at the dining table, with a glass of water in front of him. From Mingcheng's angle, he could still see the faint white air slowly dissipating in the air.

As if he didn't understand where Mingcheng's nervousness came from, Minglou raised his eyes and glanced at him, but asked, "What do you say?"

Mingcheng looked in the direction he was looking - it was a spotlessly clean stove, and there was nothing else on the stove, just a kettle.

He was a little confused.Maybe it was because of the wine he drank, or maybe it was because his nerves were too tense before, so he answered him almost subconsciously: "What do you say?"

Minglou pointed, "Derwasserkessel.Labouilloire.Thekettle."

"What happened to the kettle?"

"How can you speak Shanghai gossip?" He suddenly said a sentence in Shanghai dialect.

This question really stopped Mingcheng from asking, and he was taken aback for a while before answering him in the same local accent that he hadn't spoken for a long time: "Tonghang."

After speaking, he suddenly realized, let go of the knife still in his hand, and rushed to Minglou while taking off his coat: "You have a headache, don't you?"

As he got closer, he could see it more clearly—Minglou's forehead was already faintly sweating.

The disappearing car suddenly had an explanation.Mingcheng shook Minglou's hand, turned around and went to get the medicine for him, watched him take it, then frowned and said: "I don't even take the medicine, just sit here and play around."

Minglou glanced at him slowly, but smiled: "I don't want to grow up, but I still feel it's something on my mind."

The two of them each said something, but they both felt a little ridiculous, and the unfamiliarity reached the point of awkwardness, so they stopped talking.

The effect of the aspirin didn't come up so quickly, Mingcheng sat down opposite him, took his hand, and warmed his cold hand little by little.

Minglou's headache is an old problem.It happened several times when I was in Paris, when I was young, I thought it was the sequelae of staying up late and working hard, I didn't pay much attention to it, I dismissed two aspirin, and continued to treat one person as several people; after returning to China, the attacks began to occur frequently, and the I can't say anything, and I still take aspirin; when I go abroad again, the frequency of seizures is much lower, but once I have a seizure, it can kill half of my life. After searching over and over again, even a psychiatrist took the risk to see him once, but he couldn't find out what's wrong. Minglou refused to take other strong painkillers, saying that he couldn't slow down his reaction. In the end, it was still a few aspirin.

Mingcheng has nothing to do with him. Fortunately, aspirin has been effective over the years, and he can only see the dosage getting stronger day by day.Once Minglou suddenly had a headache at school, and his colleagues sent him to the hospital. When Mingcheng heard the news and rushed over, his face was blue with anxiety, but he had nothing else to say. After sitting for a long time, he finally recovered a little. , complained half-truthfully: "Now aspirin has been with you much longer than mine."

At that time, Minglou laughed straight after hearing this, and after laughing, he opened his mouth in his usual slow manner: "I want to put you in my pocket and carry it with me every day, but are you willing?"

Mingcheng didn't smile at first, but Minglou kept looking at him with a smile. He smiled briefly, and found Minglou's hand under the quilt: "Brother, you can't overwork."

Minglou still smiled, shaking his head while laughing: "I'm used to it."

In fact, Mingcheng knew the reason for Minglou's sudden onset of illness: Not long after the People's Commune was implemented, Minglou sent a long letter to the State Office.He not only talked about Marx, but also talked about Adam Smith and Ricardo, and also talked about the natural rate of unemployment in Keynes, and even cited the bloody example of the collectivization of Soviet agriculture.In short, a thousand words and a word say that people's communes will not work and should not be established at this stage.

The letter was transcribed by Mingcheng for him—Minglou's handwriting was extremely scribbled as soon as his thoughts came up, and no one could recognize it except Mingcheng—Mingcheng discussed with him while copying this letter, saying that this letter should not be sent.This is not an economic issue. Private ownership and public ownership have never been an economic issue in all communist countries today, and should not be discussed from the perspective of economics.

But Mingcheng also knew that he couldn't be persuaded.Firstly, for this letter, Minglou picked up the economic theories that had been thrown away for many years. It is impossible not to speak - since the Great Leap Forward, he has not controlled his pen.

Even Mingcheng himself, after sorting out the letters for Minglou, drafted a report, recording what he heard in Moscow in detail, and handed it in as an attachment to Minglou's letter. up.

A few days after the letter was delivered to the embassy, ​​Minglou suffered from an old problem, but after he was discharged from the hospital, it took a long time, and he still did not receive any reply.They watched helplessly as the Great Leap Forward was in full swing, the people's communes were overwhelming, and their reports fell into nothing.

Afterwards, Minglou never mentioned this matter to Mingcheng again.Only once, when the two of them were walking by the lake, Minglou suddenly said, Ah Cheng, in fact, I don't understand politics, so I keep doing inappropriate things.

His self-indulgence made Mingcheng silent for a long time before he went to answer him, not knowing what to do.I don't understand either.Brother, you finally have something you don't understand.

So this time Minglou fell ill, after all, there was a reason for it.

But Mingcheng didn't want to ask him at all, he waited patiently for the effect of the aspirin, and then asked him if he had eaten dinner.

"I ate it on the train back...it was terrible." Ming Lou nodded, "Huh? Did you drink tonight?"

"The chamber of commerce has a dinner party, and I had a drink. No one persuades me to drink now, just to make fun of it."

Ming Lou smiled at him: "How many people will be your matchmaker this time?"

Mingcheng also laughed, and let him find the topic casually: "There are quite a few people asking about you."

"Twenty-year-olds can see each other. Up to 20."

Mingcheng patted him lightly, took his hand and stood up: "It's a pity that you are 16 years old. Come on, my Mr. Ming, go to sleep, sleep, you have everything."

While talking in a low voice, the two went up the stairs hand in hand without any more naturalness.

This night Mingcheng slept with Minglou.After sleeping until midnight and approaching early morning, Minglou woke up.

As soon as he woke up, Mingcheng woke up immediately.Ming Lou said: "Ah Cheng, I was too busy to remember what kind of style Miss Sister looks like."

This Su Bai spoke in a particularly correct manner, which is really different from the messy Shanghai dialect earlier, making Mingcheng think that he heard it wrong, or in other words, he would rather he heard it wrong.

He didn't know if Minglou was really awake, or if he was in the narrow gap between several dreams, but he still answered him, even though his voice was full of uncontrollable sourness: "I remember it firmly."

Minglou didn't answer the call, didn't turn over, his breathing became soft, and just when Mingcheng almost believed that he was asleep, Minglou opened his mouth again.

This time it's not Su Bai, it's not Shanghai dialect, it's not even Chinese.Precise and full of discipline.

"Siehabendie Mauergebaut. Nein, wirhabendie Mauergebaut."

They built walls.

It's us.

TBC