Chapter 4 4. To 30-year-old Zhang Xiaoman

I (with the help of navigation) drove the car back to the downstairs of the residents who were boxy like urns at No. 6 Ming'an Road. I parked the car and turned off the engine. A 450ml bottle of sake came out. I'm so back today, I need it. On such a rainy night, drinking while listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the car is really pleasant.This bottle was given to me by a Japanese friend I met when I was in college. I originally planned to keep it. I asked Fujima to drive to the beach to drink it in a few nights. Now it is meaningless. When the rain connecting the lines under the orange streetlight blurred into a whole piece, I felt that it was almost done. I ran out of the car happily and pushed open the shabby electronic door in the opening of the building.

As expected, there was a faint musty and dirty smell in the corridor.My dad complained that other places are closed communities, only the husband’s house in Mingzi, and the street police station doesn’t care. The electronic door was installed, but it broke within a month, and the buttons have become decorations. Drunk people who can’t find the toilet at night in summer, and homeless people who are afraid of the cold at night in winter, all go into the corridor. Can it be boring? There are seven floors in total, and the sensor lights on the sixth floor are all broken.With the help of the flashlight of my mobile phone, I carefully avoided the debris piled up in the corridor by my neighbors, but my feet were floating, and my waist still hit an upside-down chair leg, which made me grit my teeth in pain.

I knocked on the door. "Who is it?" "I." The door opened, and my dad looked so surprised that I ran up specially to catch him back to the co-pilot to complete the U-turn. Because I haven't been back to Ming'an Street for many years. Every weekend my dad would come to my house to make dinner, watch TV for a while after eating, and I would drive him back to Ming'an Street. "Come on, come on, you wear these slippers, I bought them in the supermarket a few days ago, massage slippers." "It hurts, it hurts... These shoes are for Sister Jiang, right? Is there a nail plate underneath?"

"If you don't wear it," my dad snatched the pair from my feet and threw the one he was wearing over. "I don't want to give you the good ones. Have you been drinking? You smell like alcohol. You sit down and I'll make you a soak." Some tea." How fun, this is my home, he's my dad, and I'm here as a guest. While he was busy, I stood up and inspected this familiar yet unfamiliar home. The pull bolt of the safety door was broken a long time ago, and my dad was lazy enough to wrap a ring around it with a thick wire, leaving a section of the handle, and just used it; the yellow plastic cloth mat at the door was printed with small Pigs and little rabbits only wear clothes and no pants, all English words are wrong, and the corners are a bit torn, I don’t remember how many years they have been used; The half wall of the door protrudes and connects to the ceiling, forming a hanging beam in the room that is said to be bad in terms of feng shui. I was always sick for a period of time in elementary school. The physiognomy asked my parents to find a way to smooth this beam, or support A pillar, or simply change the house - none of these three suggestions was feasible. In the end, my mother, who was extremely clever, begged for two rectangular red papers in the temple and took them home. She picked up a brush and wrote on them Two characters were written, one on the left and one on the right, and pasted under the beam.

It read: "Pillar". I hahahahahahahaha for a while, then froze. Maybe she loves me a little too? It's not good, it's not good, the alcohol is completely over the top. I forced myself to look away from the "pillar" and turned to other layouts in the house: the other three sides of the small square hall lead to the long and narrow kitchen and the balcony at the end, a small bathroom, and a bedroom. Well, yes, only one bedroom. Because of this house, I have lived in the house for twelve years, and it is only twenty-three square meters. In this 23-square-meter room, there are three people’s clothes, shoes, sundries, two beds and quilts, and a large number of tutorial books and workbooks from my student days... so my parents made incredible changes to the room , the wall is covered with all kinds of hanging cabinets and hanging baskets for storage. At first glance, I thought it was some kind of avant-garde art. The most amazing thing is that in such a cramped space, they also built a huge one above the refrigerator. , Buddhist niches.

A small red light is flashing, the kind of UPS uninterruptible power supply. It's amazing how creative people are when they're forced to do this.We have never met the predicament that art museums frequently encounter the exhaustion of topics, so why have we never thought of making a one-to-one restoration of my family in the museum. I looked up inadvertently, and saw the "pillar" again, and my eyes became hot.My dad came out of the kitchen with green tea, and I quickly took a sip and it burned me—tears flowed down naturally. "What are you doing back here? Where did you drink? How much did you drink..."

Before my dad started nagging, I quickly asked the doubts floating in my mind: "Dad, why is the house so small, but the furniture is so big?" I looked at the table: "The table in the square hall is equipped with four such big chairs, which is enough for my house; and the refrigerator, why is it a double door, it is not crowded enough..." My dad smiled and listened to my advice, but in the end he just said that it was all bought by your mother, so you have to ask your mother. This is enough to choke people.My mother probably can't even remember who I am, but can she still remember the furniture?

Well, if I ever see her again, I'll ask her. I blew on the tea noodles and asked him: "Do you still have things from my high school at home? Notebooks, textbooks, photo albums, whatever. You can find them for me and go to sleep. I'll read them here. just go." My dad hesitated: "Why are you looking at those things all of a sudden?" "What's wrong?" I asked, "Is there anything I can't see?" "No, there is nothing I can't see," he was a little nervous, "it's just not easy to find, or I will..." "I remember asking you to send me all my school stuff a long time ago. Didn't you pack it up? How long has it been? Hey, isn't this what it is?" I unwrapped a woven fabric piled up on the balcony Bag, "This is it, no need to look for it. Go to sleep."

My dad hesitated again and again.I pretended not to notice and waited quietly for him to return to the bedroom. I dragged the bag back to the dining table, only to remember that this ridiculously large table was once my desk as well. There are three people eating, and when there are not many dishes, only half of the table needs to be cleared, and the other half is still piled up with exercise books and stationery as high as a hill... Now that I am sitting here again, a strange feeling arises in my heart. The woven bag is almost full of teaching materials, and the margins are all class notes. There is not even a photo album, let alone a diary.My big computer in high school couldn’t be turned on for a long time, and I couldn’t import digital photos. After a long time, I couldn’t get any results. I was so tired that I had to reinstall the books. Silly X.

When putting the last history book back into the bag, a blank sheet of paper suddenly fell out from between the cracks. The title at the top is: "To 30-year-old Zhang Xiaoman." In the center of the paper is a one-inch photo with a blue background of me wearing my high school uniform, with a bit more baby fat than my current cheeks; ideals or wishes are densely written around the photo, separated by a little distance, and connected with the photo in the middle by a short line At first glance, it looks like the radiating sun in a children's painting. These wishes include: Admitted to Harvard;

Graduate students can also go to Harvard; Published a book titled "Harvard Girl Zhang Xiaoman", which sold well; work on Wall Street; There is a villa in Beverly Hills; grow to more than 1.68 meters; perfect boobs; A boyfriend who looks like Kenji Fujima, love at first sight, first love, and grow old together; very elegant, very noble; Others think of it and add; ... Seventeen-year-old Zhang Xiaoman, you made wild wishes! I was rolling with laughter. In order not to scare my dad, I tried my best to suppress the urge to laugh out loud while watching, my face was flushed, I was squatting on the ground shaking like chaff, and I couldn't breathe well. I lay on the desk, just like the countless times when I closed my eyes and meditated when I was tired of studying, imagining that it is also a time machine of a robot cat, which can take me to drag the progress bar of the years forward, and then forward , Look at that obediently sitting at the table, writing down the shameful but sincere wish stroke by stroke, I can hardly remember it, seventeen-year-old Zhang Xiaoman. I think she must be cute. After all, my wife is so cute. I really want to hug her and tell her that your message in a bottle has drifted through the ocean of time and has been received by me. I put the unhappiness and doubts that Xing Guizhi brought to me behind me.I was so well-behaved and cute when I was a child, and I was popular when I grew up. Whoever doesn’t like it has something wrong with it. Why should I reflect on it?What's more, even if there was a little grievance in the student days, how big could it be? Slightly drunk, I went out after receiving the message that the valet driver was about to arrive, humming an out-of-tune song while going down the stairs, using the light source of my mobile phone as a light stick in the dark corridor, holding it high and shaking it left and right. The light swept to a corner and passed a face. The singing stopped abruptly, my head buzzed, and I couldn't even scream.I was stunned for a second, which felt as long as a century. I desperately recalled my dysfunctional body, turned around and ran, and the person in the stairwell followed me, and caught up with me in a few steps, grabbing me by the back of the collar. Pull hard. The moment I leaned back into the air, the feeling of weightlessness made my heart beat to my throat. Is this about to die? I fell down on the platform at the junction of the two floors, my tailbone hurt so badly that I didn't even have the strength to speak. Fortunately, I bumped into the person who cushioned me when I fell, otherwise I would have been unconscious by now. The mobile phone fell by the upper two steps and fell to the ground upside down, with a blue gleam emitting from the whole body.The man bent down to pick it up, I didn't care about the trembling lips, and quickly surrendered: "Take it, take it all, I have a few hundred dollars in cash here, I'll give it to you, I didn't see what you look like, you took it Hurry up, let me go, please..." The phone was turned over, illuminating Teng Zhen's face. The corridor was so quiet that only the sound of my own breathing remained. "You know you're afraid?" He sneered, put the phone back in my hand, and leaned over to me: "Pretending to be stupid, are you living a good life?" Teng Zhen hurried downstairs after speaking.I was confused for a while, and suddenly a burst of fire rushed to the Tianling Gai. "Are you sick? Are you sick? What are you doing hiding in the corridor in the middle of the night, you fucking pervert? You stalking me? There's no end to it, I'm fucking your mother, come back and explain it to me!" The tailbone hurt too much, but I couldn't care less, I limped down the stairs holding on to the dusty handrails. His car was parked in front of mine, and I went to the Loumen opening just in time to see him open the door and get in the car. "Teng Zhen! Tell me clearly! Stop! Your whole family exploded!" No matter how I shouted, he still kicked the accelerator and drove away through the rainy night.I was so angry that I unlocked the car and rushed into the car. I didn't even bother to fasten the seat belt, and I kicked the accelerator to catch up. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and the wipers in front of the car swung rapidly. I drank alcohol and reacted slowly. After chasing two intersections, I was stopped by a red light in the end. I watched his taillights gradually disappear under the rain. Only then did I realize that I was afraid.I thought about pulling over the car after crossing this intersection, and then calling a substitute driver to come over.Fifteen seconds before the red light, I picked up the mobile phone on the passenger seat and saw a call from the previous driver, I answered in frustration: "I'm so sorry!" As soon as I said these five words, a large truck that was overloaded at first glance blew its horn and overtook from my right lane. It seemed that it was going to forcefully bypass me and turn left through the lights. I have road rage, and I get very irritable when I drive: "Can you drive, run a red light and rush to the grave—" Before the curse was finished, I saw it roll over to the side of my car at an incredible angle, in slow motion, on the right side, and the wailing sound of tire bearings overwhelmed all my thoughts. At the last moment I heard the boom of gravel and earth being dumped on the roof of the car. Still the sound of rain is nice.