Chapter 8 chapter eight

In order to avoid bumping into my father's taxi, I took the long way in the alley to the station. Walking into the coffee shop in front of the station where he had been spying on his father before, he leaned back in the chair, his nervous nerves snapped, and his mind instantly went blank. After I asked the girl who took the order for coffee, I thought to myself that Mao Maotou was about to close.Knowing that it would be better to make a phone call back to the store, but I just couldn't get up, and just looked around the crowded store with nothing to do. I tried to regurgitate in my head the last few lines I had skimmed through in the study.

The words "killed by you" and "this child who will be killed" seem simple but confusing.The author of the note, under what circumstances did he predict that he would be "killed by you", and whether "this child who will be killed" is the baby born on a rainy morning in the article is also unknown. I have already read most of the third notebook, but I still can't see the whole picture of the incident. It's just that the man called "you" by the writer of the note is the father, so it's obviously not wrong. If you want to give evidence, for example, it is mentioned in the article that your parents died unexpectedly when you were a primary school student. This is indeed the father's life experience.My father lost his parents in a large-scale air crash when he was in the second grade of elementary school, and was later raised by his unmarried aunt.

Also, it was mentioned in the article that you got a job based on the license you have, and your father has several accounting licenses, which is also consistent. However, even without such a trivial similarity, I'm afraid I would still think you are the father.You who intend to raise the baby with an unknown father as your own, and the photo of the abused child who has been staring at the abused child with dark eyes for many years, as if their misfortunes are all caused by their own father, superimposed into a very natural person . The problem is that the notes sit. Is it the modern mother, or the mother of the past?It stands to reason that it can only be one of the two mothers, but I don't know which one it is.

The part where the author mentions that you are five years older than you is correct.The current mother is indeed five years younger than the father.But if the previous mother and the current mother happen to be the same age, that kind of thing can't be used as evidence at all. Has the author's death, which is vaguely hinted at at the end, happened in reality?Or people live well, and then on a certain day, give birth to your real child, father? Thinking about it just makes time pass in vain. When I wanted to open the notebook, I realized that the coffee I ordered was already on the table.I took a sip of my cold coffee and started reading.

The baby was born on a rainy morning.The child was born between an impotent father and a prostitute mother. For a boy, you definitely feel fate more strongly.Looking at you who tremblingly wanted to pick up the baby, I was still at a loss for my abnormality. Production is a process that more closely fits the term disintegration than any disintegration I have ever experienced in the past.My body was literally torn in two trying to get the baby out.But that process has also ended, and it seems that I have finally returned to the original me. "It's so small." You just said this, and then you kept looking at the baby with a smile on both sides of your mouth.

From the window, you can see the rain is amazing, but you can't hear it. I drifted into a slumber, with a strange sense of relief, as if you were smiling not at the baby, but at me. Once the child came out of the womb, it was like a demon possessing me. Even Guangzi, Xiaoman and others who were in my body before seemed to have all left, which made me feel very empty for a while. I thought to myself that as long as I become an empty shell, I can breathe easily like this.Being a prostitute was okay, but being a mother was obviously easier and suited me. There is nothing else to do every day except wait for you to come back from get off work. I have been observing the baby during the day. I have never observed anything with such enthusiasm before.I want to see clearly what's coming out of this self, isn't it me?is it a part of me?

As long as I find any changes, I will report to you when you come back from get off work in the evening. For example, as soon as the baby is put into the bathtub, it will pout, or kick the blanket, showing the tip of its small teeth, and so on. I love seeing your face when you hear these things. When eating, you will drink a sip of beer first, and then say that the ginkgo trees on the roadside have lost all their leaves, and winter is coming. The face at that time, and the expression when I opened my eyes and murmured in bed at night, "Ah, it's raining." Although it was lonely, I liked it very much.

Saying the words ginkgo, winter and rain from your mouth makes me feel like I understand a little bit, the real ginkgo, winter and rain that I don't know. You and I lie on the same bed, trying not to touch each other's bodies, but sometimes we wake up to find that our hands and feet are naturally intertwined. Your baby sleeps in a crib in the same room, writhing, moaning, and crying throughout the night, and before you know it, your insomnia problem is gone without medicine. Whether that's because the guilt has been relieved is unknown. You don't need to feel guilty.I was the one who killed that little boy.It was me who framed you and made you feel wronged.

You gave me money, took me to dinner, and even married and lived with me because of the guilt of being the director.Since it is based on false guilt, then this kind of life is all wrong. I felt like I had to do something, but as soon as I started to think about those things rationally, my head was confused. Because I can't think, I don't think. Woo... ah, um, um, um, the child started babbling and crawling around the room. You keep coming back with new toys. One night, the child got a small tambourine with patterns and liked it very much. He wanted to knock on everything, and lively sounds came from everywhere in the house.

Seeing the child knocking on your face at the end, you laughed loudly: "This little guy, I really never get tired of watching it." The child finally felt pain after beating too much, and he grinned and cried. You immediately picked up the child and shook the tambourine rhythmically. "Okay, sing with Daddy. Come on, woo... ah, woo... ah, woo woo woo woo..." You are clearly eating, but you are walking around with your child in your arms.While shaking that little body up and down, and kissing the child's forehead from time to time, my forehead also itched. You're out of breath when you return to the dinner table with your happy child on your lap.

You use a spoon to scoop up the fish on your plate and try to feed your child, but the already full baby suddenly turns his face to the side. When you have to eat it yourself, the baby bumps your elbow as if on purpose, and the fish in the spoon is all over your nose. "Woo! Ah... brat..." The baby giggled.It probably sprayed into your eyes too, I saw you blinking frequently and couldn't help laughing at the same time. I hastily handed you the tissue box. "This kid, yes, yes." You wiped the baby's saliva by the way, "Ah... so happy." You whispered. Then you stopped suddenly and stared at me with those hazelnut-colored, incredible eyes.I think I was probably in a daze like a fool. Because I suddenly understood that the pleasure I had been feeling since just now, like a swollen heart, turned out to be happiness.Inflated, jumping, almost flying like a balloon, there is also a little anxiety about whether it will burst too much or not.Of course I know the word happy, but I've never felt happy.Everything in the house seems to have a halo, as if it just appeared at this moment.Happy, it seems to be a bit similar to Lily Heart. I can't forget the small mountain leech either. That's what happens when you push the stroller and we go for a walk to a shrine a little further away. After walking around the trails in the shrine, on the return trip, I suddenly found that the sweater I was wearing was covered with a lot of brown dry triangular particles. "It's the seed of the small mountain leech. Oops, this thing is quite difficult to deal with." As you spoke, you began to pull out the densely packed seeds on your arms. I also looked around while pulling out the seeds all over the skirt, and there were a few seeds on the hair of the child sleeping in the stroller. I took it off for the child, and I took it off myself, but I couldn't finish it no matter how hard I tried. "Look, it's quite troublesome." You suddenly raised your hand and plucked the seed from behind my shoulder.After cleaning the shoulders, change the back, and then from the back to the hair and the side waist.You didn't notice that I was stiff all over, you just kept saying, look here, and here. From the cuff of the hand you touched me, I also plucked one.The seeds get tangled up in the delicate fibers of the flannel shirt and are not easy to pull out.Pulling and pulling, I also mustered up my temper and removed one seed after another from you. We are stained with countless seeds. We stayed for most of the day only to pull out the seeds, and gradually merged into one, my hand became your hand, and your body became my body. When you pluck the last one and start walking again, you say, "Next autumn, this place along this road will be covered with leeches, and there will probably be a lot of seeds on it by then." One night later, you hugged me under the covers.I seem to have become a child, because I often hug the child like this and stay silent. I close my eyes in your warmth, with the peace of mind of being securely guarded by the arm fence.So I really wanted to stay like this forever, but after a while, you slowly unbuttoned my chest and whispered that it was all right. I don't know if the so-called "nothing" means impotence.It is impossible for you to like my body, so I think that impotence will not be cured. You are trembling, maybe I am trembling. I'm scared.Knowing that what is about to happen is completely different from the disintegration I am familiar with, but I am still afraid, which is why I am afraid. Haven't touched it yet, there is a wonderful attraction between your hand and my skin.Hands and skin seem to echo each other. Your hand touched my chest first.As soon as it touches the chest, the parts of the whole body that have not been touched by you immediately call for you to touch.I was so moved by the calling, that my fear had long since been diluted. When I took off my clothes, my whole body was covered with tiny seeds of the hill leech.The myriad of seeds that prick and irritate the skin are waiting to be peeled off by your fingers.After peeling and peeling, new seeds continue to be produced in an endless stream.It wouldn't have happened without being touched by you, you had to keep peeling me back and forth. I gradually lost strength and couldn't stop my body from opening.Before I knew it, I turned into a photon and stretched out my arms to you.I give all I can give to you.Come on, cut me apart.I beg you, come on, come on. My wish came true immediately.Your tenderness is merciless, I was deeply cut, and my body spurted out, as if I was completely dead like this.The more thorough the death, the more pure vitality will be ignited; the more flaming it is, the more it will merge into one. Ah, how happy this is, it would be great if Photon could also taste this kind of taste. Even though the prayers were frozen in a moment of eternity, time finally started again, and I opened my eyes. It's really unbelievable to be able to come back into your arms like this, it's obvious that Guangzi has passed away like that. "Don't cry." You said.I didn't cry, but my cheeks were wet when I touched them, which made me feel strange. "When that kid is older, give him a younger brother or younger sister, he will be very happy, right?" Neither of us mentioned what just happened.I don't know how to make it clear to you that you have become more "you" than you have ever been. There are still slight tremors flickering everywhere in the body.You let out a long breath between your teeth, and after a while, you just hugged me and fell asleep. You are adamant that you should go see my parents.You said the same thing when you registered your marriage, but I just can't bring it up. "I don't know what problems happened between you and your parents, but as long as you explain it well, they will understand." "It's nothing." "Then why don't you? I wonder if you've had any misfortunes at home, too." Before this, you never asked me about my past. "I just don't want to see them." "That's why I asked why you didn't want to see me." When asked, I don't know why. It's just that he left home after finding a job, and moved twice without notifying his home address. I feel more secure away from my parents and my sister and everything else that has to do with my family. I didn't even think about whether they were worried. One Sunday, I was persuaded by you to take a family of three with a one-year-old child back to my natal home. The father and mother who greeted us at the door stared at me, you, and the child in silence, and tears kept falling from the eyes of the dazed mother. I secretly regretted that I shouldn't have come this time. In order to avoid being hugged by my mother, I hid behind you stiffly. It is said that the younger sister rented a house near the workplace, so there is no need to meet each other. "It's great that you can meet a good partner and have a child. I can tell at a glance that the child is very happy. It's like a dream, don't you think? The father of the child." "Um... yeah... really, really amazing." "Thank you, I didn't expect to hear the two of you say that. Today, I came to visit with the intention of accepting any scolding." The mother pulled the child to her side, loving it. I wondered if she would have acted the same way if she knew it was a child of an unknown father. Unknowingly, everyone has already drank beer around the takeaway sushi. Maybe the children acted as a buffer between the adults. In the past, in this kind of scene, you must feel the strange feeling of the air like a file, but this time I don’t mind Feel. "Aren't you all right? They are all very good-tempered people." You said on the tram on the way back, smiling with nostalgia. I think you must be remembering what my father said. "Not only a grandson, but also a son. Don't you think so? Our family has always been full of yin and yang." When your father asked you to pour him beer, he said this, which warmed your heart when you were bereaved since childhood. After that day, you wanted to visit my father from time to time, and the second time, you also saw your sister who was called back and her fiancé.However, the younger sister who has been very affectionate since she was a girl, finally broke up with the seemingly honest and gentle man, and the new fiancé she brought back immediately also broke up after a few months, which made the mother very worried. Every time I go back to my mother's house, I always think that these people present are your family members, and I'm just here to accompany you.This will make it easier for me to maintain a natural expression. In fact, when you shared meals with my parents and sister, it seemed that you had been living like this since you were born, and you seemed to be a real family no matter how you looked at it. Seeing you happy makes me smile unknowingly, and I no longer feel so disgusted when I see everyone scrambling to take care of the child or pour me beer. As I drank too late and had to stay overnight, it happened again and again. Twice a month, it became a habit to go back to my mother's house for one night on Saturdays. Years passed like this. Then it starts to crumble. This concludes the third notebook, leaving almost no blank space until the last page. After reading it in one breath, I felt like I was thrown into the air.I propped my elbows on my closed notebook and clawed at my hair in distress. Then, regardless of the fact that the coffee was cold enough to show streaky milk flowers, I drank the remaining coffee in one gulp. During the reading, the thought of suspecting that this child is my own kept flashing through my mind.The murderous woman is the biological mother, and the passing man who bought that woman is the biological father... Thinking about it this way, my body seems to be densely covered with goose bumps. I don't have any evidence, I just judge this based on the direction of the article.Maybe I'm wrong. In fact, as the last paragraph I skimmed through earlier suggested, the child has already been wiped out by someone somehow. That aside, reading this makes me believe even more strongly that you are the father. The closeness between the author's parents and you is just like the actual relationship between father and grandparents.The father who lost his parents at a young age has established a deep relationship beyond blood with his grandparents who are the mother's parents.Although I have no impression of the grandfather's house in Maebashi, the writer's natal family must be there. Either way, I just can't stand not seeing anything for the next week.I racked my brains to see if I could manage to sneak into the study before the weekend, but couldn't come up with a good idea.Even if he wanted to find an excuse to trick his father out of the house, he had to have the help of his younger brother. At this time, I suddenly remembered and looked at my watch quickly. I might be late for the appointment time with my brother, and I was taken aback. I hurriedly stuffed my notebook into my bag and left the coffee shop. Before you know it, it's already night outside. When I rushed down the escalator at the transfer station and barely squeezed through the door that was about to close into the tram bound for Kyoto, it was fifteen minutes before the agreed eight o'clock. I sent a text message to tell my brother that I would be late by about 20 minutes. I held onto the sling of the tram, looking at the brightly lit night scene, the contents of the notes kept coming to my mind again. I couldn't reason logically, I just kept going around which mother was the author of the notes?This question that has been thought over and over hundreds of times circles around. The author mentions having a younger sister, but the current mother is an only child.Judging from this point, it means that the author is at least not the current mother. But I still can't feel relieved, is it because I'm afraid to admit that my previous mother killed someone and gave birth to me, just like what was written in that note? The car is quite crowded.The group of housewives chatting vigorously and gossiping, the little girl licking a lollipop sticky around her mouth, the young couple who are still awkward with each other, everyone has a sense of being noisy in a different space thousands of miles away from me. I don't know who it is in my mind, and the wonderful and peaceful life scene between my father and you, my father, is like a scene from an old movie.Although quiet but full of intense time, it seems that every time the four days meet, various emotions slowly rise... Unknowingly, I found that I was subconsciously overlapping their memories with those of Chie and myself, and I couldn't help feeling strange.Picking off the seeds of the small mountain leech, making love for the first time while trembling, and writing in handwriting, it seems that everything happened between me and Chie, which made my heart tense.Why do you think that way?Even I was dumbfounded. (Years passed like that, and then it started falling apart.) The last two lines of the third notebook.How did the life of the note writer and you fall apart? Is it because their years, and ours, are based on a fate that will collapse sooner or later, and that is why they are so purely happy?