To my dear Mr. Meng

The last red light of the setting sun has disappeared, and the sky is glowing with a faint blue similar to the early morning sunrise.In such hot weather, the colors as far as the eye can see are abnormally cold.In the silence, Mr. Meng seemed to realize that this was not a silly joke. His face was darkened by the shadow of the early night, and he stared straight at me, as if he was going to gouge out my eyeballs at any time.

The lofty sentiments of the previous moment were instantly dissipated, and the evening wind blew the scalp cool, like a piece of skin that was about to collapse at any time.I unconsciously swallowed my mouthful of dry saliva, and in the end I didn't say anything else, I just repeated dryly: "I didn't lie to you."

Mr. Meng wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.There wasn't much sweat on it, maybe he just wanted to do something casually to break this embarrassing deadlock.The gap cut by Silence made it really impossible to pretend to be stupid and fool around. He changed the school uniform to the other hand, and turned around two steps a little anxiously.

This action was very similar to his father's, and I couldn't help shrinking my neck.

"Do you know what you're talking about?" His eyes wandered around, and finally fell back on my face, "This is—"

"I know!"

I took the lead and interrupted the following content.

To be honest, I was a little afraid to hear those three words.

I have an inexplicable fear of the word gay, and it always reminds me of those horrible things my mother said when I was a child.The women who cling together in the public toilet with secretive words and deeds, the dirty gatherings in the corner of the park at night, the freaks who dress up as women... These hearsay rumors are mixed with the short stories of her parents, which made me feel good and peaceful around me since I was a child. Everything is full of doubts.

Whenever my dad stopped impatiently—this kind of situation mostly happened at the dinner table—she would throw the chopsticks in her hand: "I can't even say a few words? You really think you are the big boss, You have to walk sideways when you come back! Let me tell you, you are a useless thing, if it wasn’t for my old lady who helped you..."

No matter my dad threw the bowl and left, or just sat there and turned a deaf ear, she just scolded herself, and she picked up the chopsticks after scolding to the fullest, and concluded to me earnestly: "People nowadays are really shameless, don't talk to the outside world. Dealing with people you know, do you hear me?"

Mr. Meng's reaction undoubtedly woke me up from the long-standing dream of clouds, and recalled the deep fear in my heart.I seem to have seen myself walking into a park shrouded in darkness—where is the park, it is clearly a bloody ghost gate.

Mr. Meng stopped talking again.

My heart has long since fallen into the bottomless pit along with my brain, and at this moment I don't know what to do except stare at him like a fool.There was a sound of heavy objects rubbing against the concrete floor from the street on the left, and then there was a "creak", and the proprietress of the sugar shop dragged the high-backed and low-legged bamboo chair outside to sit.

The proprietress is a middle-aged woman who still has charm, except that she is fat.However, it is precisely because of that fat that her two arms reveal a plump and beautiful Renaissance style.She must have come out to see our excitement.Not to mention people, even two wild dogs with dirty hair and rotten claws barking on the road can attract her to look around with interest.I thought of the tungsten lamps in her store that were always emitting superficial light, and the most amazing thing was the furniture in the store, all crooked, like discarded play toys, such as the bamboo chair.But as soon as they stepped out of the store, they immediately grew bigger like Arabian flying carpets. You found that they were all normal-sized furniture, and even because of the old style, they seemed bulkier than other things.For a person like the proprietress, living in a dark room must be unbearable torture.Whenever I see her looking out into the street with that curly, shaggy head out of the dark, I think she must love her husband so much that she is willing to endure it year after year.

I saw my own dim shadow on the ground.Why do some people say that the human soul is very light?The human soul should be heavy.Otherwise, why do I now feel that my soul has been separated from my body, and the empty shell left in place is so light, soft, and wet, like a puddle of thick dirty water.

Mr. Meng looked over suddenly, and I realized that I had called him at some point.

"I'm sorry." My mind slowly became clear again, and all my strength was used to restrain the violently trembling vocal cords, so a stream of liquid took advantage of the void and occupied the nasal cavity, and my voice sounded like a frog stuffed in a cow's belly, "I It means... I, I will change. You are my best friend and I don't want to..."

I can't go on.I can only keep my face sullen, not knowing which one will be the first, the tears or the snot.

"Don't be like this, I didn't mention you." Mr. Meng sighed, and habitually reached out to pat my head, but suddenly realized that I was not much shorter than him, and patted my shoulder instead.

"I, I know I'm a freak, I promise I'll never say these things again, I'll change. Don't—"

I was afraid that the proprietress of the sugar shop would lose her teeth out of laughter, so I quickly covered my eyes with one hand to cover my ears.

The hands on the shoulders exerted a little force, and Mr. Meng straightened me: "Little Badger, listen to me." Seeing that I didn't respond, he shook me lightly: "He Yujun!"

I sniffed and took my hand away.I tried my best to look as if nothing had happened, but of course it was impossible, because the tears had glued my eyes together, and I could still feel my eyelashes wet, leaning against each other limply, bearing the salty water reproachfully the weight of.

"Hey, why are you still crying?"

Mr. Meng seemed to think it was funny, but he also knew that now was not a good time to make fun of people, so the little smile was hidden between his stretched brows before it fully unfolded.

"I don't think you're a freak, I don't think you've done anything wrong. Homosexuality isn't a crime or a mental illness now, and even if people point it out, it's not a big deal. There's nothing 'wrong' about it. do you understand me?"

It was fine if he didn't speak, but when he spoke my tears became more violent.I quickly reached into my bag for a tissue, and Mr. Meng took it out for me. He said half-jokingly, "Did you cry because you were scared or moved? Did you think I was going to beat you?"

I concentrated on blowing my nose and ignored him.

When I used up all the packs of tissues, he sighed softly again, and said in deliberation, "I don't know... Maybe it's because we've been together since we were young and have such a good relationship, so you can't tell the difference. I'm Say, in your heart, am I the same as Guan Ting?"

"Of course it's different!" I remembered that I hadn't clarified, "I don't like Guan Ting."

Mr. Meng was taken aback.

I took out Gao Ting's love letter from my pocket and stuffed it to him: "This is not a love letter from Guan Ting to me, it's for you."

His face was wonderful.

I immediately corrected: "No, I mean, this is given to you by another girl."

Mr. Meng's expression softened greatly, and he unfolded the love letter and read it again, as if he was carefully discerning whether I was lying: "It was really given to me by someone else? Why is it with you?"

"I misplaced it in my bag." I lied, "Your name is on the envelope, I threw it away."

He suddenly thought of something: "Could it be the girl from the first year of high school?"

"how do you know?"

"I saw you gave her something. Did you return it under my banner? You are quite self-taught." He was still in the mood to tease.

I said nervously, "Do you like her?"

He didn't even think about it: "I don't like it. I don't even know her."

I was overjoyed: "That's good."

He glanced over and I immediately shut up.He patted the back of my sticky neck: "Don't want to cry, do you? Please drink juice, don't think so much."

The proprietress of the sugar shop shook her fan inscrutablely, stood up from the bamboo chair, led us into the shop, and waved her head to greet us vigorously, fooling us into buying two cups of sour plum soup.

After crying, my eyes were very astringent, and I took a sip of sour plum soup, and my eyes were so sour that my eyes were blurred with tears: "I still think I'm not sad enough."

Mr. Meng laughed and said, "I didn't break up with you, why are you so sad?"

I seem to hear something in the words: "That means I can continue to like you?"

He suddenly choked, coughed for a while, and didn't speak.After walking a long way, he frowned and said abruptly, "You can do whatever you want."

Were Mr. Meng's ears so red before?Or am I reading it wrong?

I stumbled and mustered up my courage again, and asked in a low voice: "You, you say that, does it mean that you actually like me a little bit?"

He stopped in his tracks all of a sudden, and before I could react, the sour plum soup in his hand was stuck to my face, and it was so cold that my flesh was sour and my teeth softened.Mr. Meng scolded angrily and amusingly: "Give you some color, and you will open a dyeing workshop!"

I hastily turned my head away, and wiped off the ice water on my face: "Okay, okay, I won't say any more, just pretend you didn't hear."

Mr. Meng looked at me, then softened his tone: "I don't mean to blame you, don't think too much about it."

"I didn't think much about it."

He pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something, when suddenly there was a dazzling light at the corner of the street, I squinted my eyes to try to see clearly, and pushed him: "Go, your car is here!"

This train probably waited too long, and people on the platform swarmed towards the door.In the confusion, Mr. Meng quickly shook my hand and then let go. Just after he said "then I'm leaving", he was pushed to the edge of the car door by anxious passengers.

I yelled "slow down" and he got into the car and smiled back at me.

Just looking at it is a pleasure.I really hope this ride never ends.

The league finally came to an end. I failed to attend the awards ceremony held in the No. [-] Middle School, because the head teacher threatened me to choose between the study committee member and the leave. I succumbed to the official authority of the study committee member.Before Xu Miao left, he did not forget to accuse me bitterly: "A traitor, a traitor to the glorious revolutionary cause! How dare you compromise with the dark and corrupt autocratic forces!"

"You will say it at this time! How can you only get [-] points in the history test if you know so much?" Feng Yanling, who had reunited with him, stood on tiptoe and patted the back of his head from behind.

Mr. Meng came out of the classroom following Guan Ting and Tang Yu who were chattering. Mr. Meng smiled at me: "Help me."

I held the roster between my hands and asked in a businesslike manner, "What are you doing?"

"I forgot to bring my political homework, don't report to Teacher Wang."

Israel is alluring, shame on you!

Tang Yu disdains: "It just happened that you didn't bring your homework today, it's too fake."

I said coldly: "How is it impossible? It's justifiable." After speaking, I opened the roster and ticked Meng Qiansheng's name first.

Guan Ting shook his head and said: "Using power for personal gain, the officialdom is dark."

With the back of my hand out, I made a "roll away" gesture at them.

Guan Ting's mouth is amazing, and he has countless golden sentences since he was a child.Many years later, she wrote emotional columns on social platforms in her spare time, and she became very successful. Some loyal fans even compiled several versions of "Sister Bamboo's Hundred Sentences Classic Quotations" (her pen name is "Mangosteen").Although most of the manuscripts were made by her big tongue when we were both drunk late at night, there is one sentence that I always remember very much.

"Love is sometimes like fighting. You chase the person you love like a soldier chasing a general. As long as the general doesn't let Ming Jin withdraw his troops, you will always have the chance to get first-class merit and let him personally award you the honor."

The author says:

I think children are emotional animals, unlike adults who dominate rationality, so I wrote it as crying and laughing.There will be a few chapters later, don't worry.