To my dear Mr. Meng

For the next few days, I saw Guan Ting avoiding him and taking a detour.

After Mr. Meng knew the reason, he laughed for the whole half of the evening self-study. We slipped out of the school gate to buy roasted sweet potatoes during class. This kid was so hungry that he didn't wait for it to cool just after baking, so he put a set of bags in my hand, which could burn off a layer of fine hair.

The small one is easy to burn and tastes bad, so we bought a big one together, and we changed our handbags all the way, and when we got to the stairs, I broke it in half through the pocket, and just took Mr. Meng’s half. Handed it to him, a shock came from his back:

"What are you two doing sneaking around here?"

I shook my hand, and the steaming half of the sweet potato "slapped" on the ground.

There is a law that says that if a piece of toast falls on the ground, the side that faces the ground must be the side that is buttered.The sweet potato in my hand was no exception. It was turned upside down, and a sticky yellow flower immediately popped out on the concrete floor.

"oops."

Guan Ting yelled, blinked his eyes, and shrank his neck back.This is her guilty conscience.Because of her guilty conscience and embarrassment, I got upright, stood there and stared down at the sweet potato's raised brown leather buttocks, groaning silently.

Seeing my posture of silent mourning, she asked, "What are you still looking at?"

"I'm wondering if I can still eat it when I pick it up."

"..."

Guan Ting couldn't believe it: "Can't you buy another one?"

I waved my hand and signaled her, the murderer, to leave the scene as soon as possible so that my sweet potato could die in peace. Guan Ting pouted, handed over two dollars, turned and left.

Mr. Meng, who was peeling the sweet potato in silence, almost laughed to death, and handed the sweet potato meat exuding sweet aroma and heat to my mouth.I turned my head and said with disgust, "Drool."

He gave a soft "tsk": "You don't dislike saliva when you kiss me."

I thought he was right, so I took a big bite unceremoniously.Mr. Meng said that I bit his finger, which is really nonsense.

Both our birthdays this year were perfunctory. As soon as the New Year's Day was over, my family moved to a new building next to Guan Ting's house.The new home is far away from the school, and the senior year is very tight. Guan Ting's father specially chartered a car to take her to school in order to let her eyeball-like baby girl sleep for half an hour.

Guan Ting and I come together every morning and go back at night. As the days get longer, someone in the class will occasionally make fun of me. Xu Miao and Tang Yucai are still plucking the hair on the tiger’s face, calling Guan Ting "" Mrs. He", the class teacher, who was listening to the wind and the rain, was like an enemy, and specially called me and her into the office to talk about my feelings for a class.It's okay not to talk, but when I returned to the classroom after talking, it seemed as if I was sitting down, and the people in the class booed even more.

Mr. Meng has some opinions on this, but he can’t let me take the bus for an hour to run back and forth every day because of this trivial matter, so I am absent-minded for the whole night of self-study. After 10 minutes, I only wrote three multiple-choice questions. I am doing foreign work, I have to get my book for a while, and I have to read my history paper for a while, not to mention such boring little actions as nudging me with an elbow, touching the back of my head, and staring at me while I am doing my homework.

The enemy's siege is tens of thousands, and I stand still.I didn't hand in my political homework the day before yesterday and was discovered by my political teacher. I was busy punishing me for copying, so I didn't have time to talk to him, and he didn't come to provoke me. .

"Meng Qiansheng, come out for me."

For the rest of the time, Mr. Meng stood in the corridor blowing the cold wind from the head teacher until the bell rang.

I packed his schoolbag for him, took my scarf and gloves and went out to see if he was frozen.Guan Ting was standing at the other end of the stairs urging her to die, while I was still tying a scarf on Meng Aifei in the dark corridor.Meng Aifei snorted sourly, and I realized that this person actually has the potential to be jealous.

I told him earnestly and earnestly that "being jealous is a taboo in feelings", in exchange for a good meal.

My head wears the stars and the moon all day long, and I go out early and return late. I didn't realize that my dad hadn't come home for a long time.Originally, this was nothing, but my mother didn't see anyone for a few days, and the parent-teacher meeting was going to be held next week, so I had no choice but to call my father, who was busy with everything.

My dad was surprised that I called him to tell him about the school, because my mother took care of all these things in the past ten years, and he never asked.

"I'm busy. Your mother won't go?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen her these days."

"You call your grandmother and uncle's family and ask."

"After the fight, my mother is not here."

My dad sighed a little annoyed, as if annoyed at my mom's negligence.He was really busy, before he finished his sigh, he hastily put down the phone.

Two days later, I used my private money to pay the food expenses. Thinking that the parents' meeting on Saturday hadn't been settled yet, I was about to bother Mr. He again, when the phone rang first.

It turned out to be my aunt calling.

I took a taxi directly to the Municipal People's Hospital. The taxi driver heard my tone in a hurry and stepped on the gas pedal with great momentum. I immediately kissed passionately with the window glass.

Sitting in the car, I kept thinking about what my aunt said, "Your mother is here, come and take her back." The more I thought about it, the faster my heart beat. The taxi with the windows closed was too stuffy, and the two sides of my spine actually A little sweaty.

My mother has always been in good health. The last time she was hospitalized was when she had an inexplicable miscarriage.What can happen to her?

And why is aunt there?

According to my mother's original words, my aunt is no longer a member of our family, and the relationship has been drawn up long ago.A few times during the Chinese New Year, my aunt would call my family, and my mother would hang up directly; if I answered the call, she would press her ear tightly to the receiver next to my ear the whole time, and kept urging me to hang up.Fortunately, my aunt didn't say much, and then she simply stopped fighting.

My mother is so clear about the enemy and us, but my father's attitude seems ambiguous. He knows about my frequent visits to my aunt's house, but he never says a word. My mother has become the one kept in the dark.

When I went upstairs, my heart kept beating. From the first to the fourth floor of the pediatrics department, the loud cries of children and the loud coaxing and cursing of adults were more like rasps on my nerves with a scorpion, and the buzzing pain.

My aunt stood hunched under the banner at the service desk, looking like a little old woman from behind.I called her, she turned around, and I noticed that her hair was a little messy, and she was carrying an old-fashioned embroidered cloth bag in her hand.

She led me to the side for a while, let me go, clasped her hands in front of her, as if hesitating, and said for a while, "My lord's housework shouldn't bother you, and your dad didn't." There’s a way, I’ll call you to persuade your mother to go back.”

"What's up with her?"

I followed my aunt through the corridor with people coming and going, and outside the half-hidden door at the end was vaguely a rooftop. There were high-pitched and fierce quarrels inside, and adults with children in their arms peeped in curiously from time to time.Even though I couldn't hear the content clearly, my mother's voice was unmistakable.The howling cold wind rolled in from the crack in the middle of the door, smashing the originally clear curses to pieces:

"...'s conscience has been eaten by dogs? Are you worthy of me! You used to be a fart. If I hadn't used money to help you so hard, you would still..."

"Do you fucking want a divorce? I think you're a bitch for a long time... outside..."

The door of the consulting room behind me was slammed shut by the wind, and I subconsciously looked back, and the words "Pediatrics Third Consulting Room" on the high-hanging plastic sign were all red.

— Pediatrics?

A thought flashed through my mind like lightning, and I only had time to grab its tail, and it was already so hot that my heart sank to the bottom.

My mother's voice from behind the door was getting closer: "...you call that bastard! See if I don't hack you to death today!" The door suddenly opened, and a swollen, rosy woman's face pierced into my eyes, faintly Gray tear stains and fine wrinkles cut this originally not-so-beautiful face into pieces, and the blue veins spreading all the way down from the forehead were bulging and protruding, like a little snake eager to break out of its shell.

As soon as she saw me and my aunt, the ferocious look on her face that hadn't faded away intensified in an instant. She rushed down the steps and pulled me brutally: "This is my son! What are you doing! Shameless old crazy woman—" another I raised my hand over my head, and I quickly reached out to stop it.

"mom!"

Seeing her pause, I immediately answered: "Stop arguing, I'll accompany you back first."

She slapped me across the face with her backhand.

That sound was extraordinarily crisp and spicy, and half of the corridor stopped in unison. Dozens of eyes swam over at the same time, coiling thin tentacles around my feet.

It was the first time for me to be slapped, and even though my ears were buzzing, I still couldn't believe that I was slapped, because my face didn't hurt, but it felt cool, as if all the facial nerves retracted my hands and feet at the same time, The tail was curled up, but it was just a constant itching—at the same time when the brain realized the itching, half of his face burned violently, as if being poured into a head of boiling water.

My dad rushed up and pulled her to death, as if hating her for being too hard to be torn in two on the spot; my aunt pulled me back from her grip, and stood in front of me at the same time, her small body was so angry trembling uncontrollably:

"Li Xiulin, you crazy!"

"You dare to call me a lunatic? You are! You are the lunatic! Why did the lunatic asylum release you?" My mother tried to break free from between my father's arms with her hands and feet, her thin curly hair fell down and covered half of it. On the face, under the curtain of hair, there was a bit of elite light, "He Guotao, are you still taking money to see this lunatic behind my back? You are absolutely dead—"

The children cried together, and the crying and cursing made the vision cloudy, as if standing in front of countless neon lights with rapidly changing colors, and the nausea caused by dizziness filled the whole chest.

"What's the noise, this is a hospital!"

A female doctor appeared at the door of the consulting room, with half of the mask hanging up and fluttering, "Go out and make a noise!"

"What the fuck is it about you? You don't care what I say? What do you think you are—"

My dad covered her mouth, her face was flushed, and with the other hand, she clamped her hands behind her back, and pushed her out as if she was catching a serious criminal.The two were entangled together, looking like some kind of mutated monster with seven or eight human limbs, still unable to manipulate the limbs freely, stumbling forward, slipping constantly in the middle, and dancing with limbs.My aunt pulled me to stand where I was, and the people around gradually became active again, as if they had become old acquaintances after a long absence, and they were like a group of animals in the Jingzhe, chatting lively and happily, and the corridors were densely packed with small and delicate animals. laughter.

My aunt kept asking me if it hurt, but I turned a deaf ear and walked to the stairs in silence. My parents were nowhere to be seen, only a woman standing there.Hearing the sound of footsteps, she turned her head, as if she had been frightened by something, with a look of panic remaining on her face.

She can't be called young and beautiful, she is about 30 years old, her hair is pulled up very short, clean and tidy, even the clothes she wears.Porcelain white skin, two thick black moles hidden on the left temple near the base of the ears, and an ancient oriental gentleness and wisdom dripping from the thin eyebrows and eyes.She held a thermos cup in one arm, and held a roll-shaped medical record in the other hand. That wrist was absolutely beautiful, slender and exquisite, soft and flexible.

The watch deep in my memory suddenly found its owner today.

I stared at her, she seemed to be getting more and more disturbed, she brushed her hair which was not messy at the sideburns, turned and left.In the middle of the walk, I looked back hesitantly, and seeing that I was still looking at her, I tightened my pace even more, and disappeared into a paleness in a short while.

I broke away from my aunt and followed.

The woman nimbly walked through the long corridor, bypassing the patients with strange body odor, walked out of the outpatient building, and arrived at the inpatient department.She didn't look back, but I intuitively felt that she knew that I was following behind, but as long as I didn't look back, it seemed that I was a phantom that only existed in my imagination.

There were also people coming and going in the aisle of the inpatient department, and she walked into a ward with the door open.The ward is so big that you can see everything from the door.I saw her go to the innermost bed. There was still an iron frame for injecting needles hanging in front of the bed. The transparent tube fell onto the bed, and a child was trapped in the vast and boundless quilt.I couldn't see my face clearly, only my soft black short hair was spread on the big snow-white pillow, like a lonely footprint on the snowy field.The woman leaned down, stroking the girl's forehead intently, then straightened up after a while, looking at the medicine in the infusion bottle.

The moment she looked up, I immediately left the door.The front desk where the nurses were on duty was full of people, and the little aunt was struggling to push them away and walked towards me.People along the way looked at my face curiously, and I really felt like an exhibition animal for people to play with.

I didn't go back to her house with my aunt, I walked all the way in a daze, and finally walked outside the community of Mr. Meng's house.

This day happened to be the second day of the three-day holiday after the exam. On weekdays, Mr. Meng was the only one at home—if he didn't go out.I stood at the bottom of his unit in a daze, not knowing what I was doing here.

Do I desperately need someone to pity and sympathize with?It seems not.I was indeed shocked, even distraught, but I did not crave pity.I just feel light and light, like a kite whose string was broken by a sudden natural disaster. It finds that the feeling of floating in the sky is not good, so it looks forward to finding a string to tie itself back again, so as to prove that it is still on the ground. product.

Someone called me, and I turned my head unprepared, Mr. Meng's smile froze on my lips.

He took me home.The attitude is very similar to that of a caring humanitarian picking up stray animals back to his home. I happened to meet him when he went downstairs to throw out the trash.The difference between me and the stray animals is probably that I am not small enough to allow Mr. Meng to wrap me in his arms with a coat.

After sitting in the living room and sweating for a while, Mr. Meng let me into his bedroom, opened the window halfway, and finally I was able to breathe freely.The heating simmered my brain which had been frozen into a hard block, and my lips no longer stuck to the hot and humid teeth because of being too cold and too hard, so I stumbled and told him the story.

After careful study, there is nothing to say. When Mr. Meng applied the strong-smelling medicinal oil to my face, I had already shut up, and when he touched the swollen area on my face, it was burning and painful.

My dad has always had a woman outside, she gave birth to a daughter for him, and I even have a younger sister.I felt incredible when I said the word "sister" to myself—she was hospitalized with a high fever, and my father went to the hospital to see his daughter. Unexpectedly, my mother, Huang Que, followed her to the hospital and caused a huge disturbance.Oh, and my aunt happened to be checking up at the city hospital and met my dad, so my mom firmly believed that my dad had been helping her secretly for so many years, otherwise a "weird lunatic" like my aunt would have died at home long ago , the corpse was discovered with maggots, and it is absolutely impossible to be alive in safety.

After I finished speaking, Mr. Meng didn't say a word, and the small bedroom was suddenly as quiet as a cabinet filled with warm water, not even the sound of bubbles bursting.

He capped the medicine bottle and threw the brown-yellow cotton swab into the trash can in the corner.The sound of the trash can opening and closing was shockingly loud in the room.

I suddenly found myself loving this silence almost obsessively.

"Look at me." I said.

Mr. Meng raised his eyelids, and his eyes seemed to be covered with two pieces of thin glass: "What are you looking at? It's swollen like a pig's head."

I leaned against his desk for too long, and the hard and straight edge of the desk pressed against the bone under my lower back, which was sore and sore.I looked at him at the same level, the right half of the face was covered with a faint blue light because it was close to the dull blue curtain, which was the color of the broken white porcelain buried at the bottom of the banana leaf.

I leaned closer, wondering if it was because of the smell of the medicinal oil, the pair of butterflies on his eyelids suddenly flapped their wings proudly.I caught the warm skin on the back of his neck and stared at those dark eyes.

There are two sharp little people reflected in the eyeballs, he leans his chin forward meekly, so that I can easily kiss his lips.

The temperature of the lips and tongue is far less hot than imagined, too warm and greasy, and there is also a rough coolness that is not easy to detect, like a pot of charcoal fire that can only be watched as it cools down.

The author says:

The high school part is finally over.