Chapter 11 Eleven, misfortunes never come singly

The homeroom teacher didn't listen to Jiang He's reasons at all, and yelled at him indiscriminately, telling him to sit down or get out, so Jiang He got out again. Xing Guizhi cried for two whole classes.A soft sob came across half of the classroom, reminding me of the Devil May Cry outside the car window on a rainy night, and I was so annoyed that I was angry. The last class in the morning is History.Zhang Xiaoman obediently followed the teacher's instruction to highlight the key points, and three colors of highlighters were lined up on the table.This is indeed my habit. I remember when I was in elementary school and junior high school, I liked to draw textbooks into coloring pages. On the geography notes in junior high school, there were hand-painted maps of China and the world, which clearly marked various curved dividing lines: North and South , dry and wet zones, climate zones... mixed with longitude and latitude lines and provincial divisions, it is very beautiful.

Whenever I start to suspect that she has nothing to do with me, there will always be such a small detail, so like me. Another thought came to me—what if I just told her?Tell her that I am from 2016, more than ten years later, and I am also Zhang Xiaoman. I am you. I have encountered such a mysterious time travel, so I just let it go to the end, otherwise what's the point of living like this? "Zhang Xiaoman" Bingxue is smart, so she must be able to understand and believe it, right?I can tell all about the moles all over her body and the intimate things she has done since she was a child, and she won't believe it.

Even though I am so quiet and beautiful at the age of seventeen, since I can grow up to be a curator of an art museum more than ten years later, I must be the same muddy in my bones. I must like this kind of exciting thing! I feel like I'm racing the exhaustion again in a frantic search for sustenance. Suddenly the table was knocked twice, and I was shocked.The history teacher saw that I was too dazed, so he poked my history book with his finger.I looked down at the picture she pointed to, and my head buzzed. In the lower left corner of this page, Grand Marshal Sun Yat-sen is wearing a military uniform, with his hands folded in front of him, leaning on what looks like a black crutch.

Lao He once said that she transferred to a vocational high school after attending an ordinary high school for a year. For some reason, the most profound memory of her knowledge in the first year of high school is Sun Yat-sen’s photo, which is so blurry that she can’t see her nose and eyes clearly. From this clarity, we can discover how gentle, elegant and heroic Mr. Sun Yat-sen is... The strange thing is that I was also deeply impressed by this photo, and I also popularized it with Lao He. The anniversary of the death of Mr. Sun Yat-sen was Arbor Day. Lao He asked me, so the habit of planting trees on the grave began with Mr. Sun Yat-sen?Mr. Sun is awesome!

I nearly threw her out of the art gallery. But at this moment, I stared at this long-lost picture, my temples swelled and ached, and a chaotic memory seemed to break free from the shackles of my skull and explode. The summer of the first year of high school is coming to an end. Provincial History Examination. The history teacher encourages the deskmates to examine each other's basic knowledge that needs to be recited.I turned to my deskmate. A fat man with a fuzzy face is smiling greasy at me—it seems that the peanut oil he eats in his stomach every day has not been digested, and it is all excreted through the skin and hair.

"Okay, Zhang Xiaoman, let me test you. In the photo of Generalissimo Sun Yat-sen in the history books, when he was leaning on crutches, did he put his left hand on his right hand, or his right hand on his left?" I shake my head. He laughed even wider.I'm bored and don't know if I should compliment it politely, it's a pretty creative question. "You test me instead." He said, his voice seemed to have undergone a voice-changing process, with waves of echoes. I was lying on my stomach with my chin resting on the table, my neck was stretched, my throat was itchy, and my voice was weird.

"There is a photo of Comrade Marin of the Comintern." "……so what?" "So...is his hair parted to the left or to the right? Three to seven or two to eight?" The fat man hahahaha laughed so much that he seemed to appreciate my wisdom in fighting back. When the laughter faded away, I saw the corners of his tired mouth drooping and even slightly twitching. He didn't actually want to laugh.He is courting me.Why? In just a few moments, it spread out into a greasy picture, chaotically overlapping, and I myself was hidden in this layer of oil film in my freshman year of high school.I tried harder to open my eyes wide, trying to see more clearly, and see more clearly... only brought myself a tearful pain.

"Wang Pingping? Wang Pingping?!" I woke up with a start.Zhang Xiaoman wanted to push me again, but I was startled by the sudden bounce. I don't know when the history class will end.Squad leader, oh no, the youth of the League branch secretary commanded two boys to carry a large box of steaming lunch boxes and put them on the podium. I thought of the rice bag I threw under the seat. If Teng Zhen didn't come to disturb me in the morning, I should put the stainless steel lunch box in that box, and the boy will carry it to the boiler room to heat it.It's good now, I can only eat cold ones.

In fact, even if it is hot in the boiler room, it will not taste good, and the water vapor will make the food soft. I still remember the lunch in elementary school, so I asked for it so frantically. "You didn't bring any food?" I asked Zhang Xiaoman. "I'll go to the cafeteria to buy curry and rice," Zhang Xiaoman smiled, "My parents are busy and don't have time to cook for me." Come on, your dad is so busy that he even grows cabbages in flower pots! ...But, is my dad her dad? I thought of the scene that couldn't be said to be a memory or a dream just now—this was almost the first time I remembered something about high school—my deskmate was indeed a fat man.

But he is a man. I turned around and looked at the scattered male students in the classroom. None are fat.what happened? I opened the lunch box and saw the fishy hairtail inside, and I had no appetite. I didn't take a shower yesterday.Woke up this morning with Wang Pingping’s short hair all greasy, with bangs sticking to his forehead. I usually take a shower in the bubble bath every night, but today I was stopped by Wang Pingping’s father—he actually told me to take a bath every two days It's okay, if the child's hair is oily or not, who cares about you! Straight men who don't pay attention to hygiene have cancer.People have to bow their heads under the eaves. If I hadn't broken my body with Wang Pingping, I would have plunged into the moat long ago and would have washed my hair clean.

Now I feel like I'm one with the greasy, fishy hairtail. Zhang Xiaoman was about to leave when Jiang He came in from the back door of the classroom and jumped to our table in the first row: "Zhang Xiaoman, I treat you to dinner, please help me find a way, please, I don't want to be with Xing..." He half-spoken, looked at me and my lunch box: "Hey, lose weight?" I snapped the lid of the lunch box shut. When I walked to the side gate of the school, I ran into Teng Zhen again. He was whispering to each other in the shade with the stupid big guy who played football with yesterday, and he looked troubled. "Wang Pingping!" I called him a peerless bastard and he still greeted me, what an idiot. "Do you have a leave note?" He asked me enthusiastically, and a bunch of male classmates around him also looked forward to it. "What? No." "Then you can't go out, you won't be allowed to go out of the school gate to buy food at noon, the teacher will check the Internet cafe!" Hao Lin, a big fool, kindly added beside him. I didn't stop, I walked straight towards the narrow gate, passed through it calmly, and stood outside the iron fence. Teng Zhen and his followers collectively opened their mouths into an O shape. In fact, I don't know if I can get out of this door. Children are afraid of making mistakes, but adults don't try it for nothing. Anyway, adults are shameless. I'm going to Ming'an Street. There was only ten yuan in my pocket, and Wang Pingping's mother secretly slipped it to me at the school gate, so I could buy Coke when I was hungry.Before I went to school, I asked them for money, but Wang Pingping's father once again severely stopped me, saying that I would bring food and water, and my parents would pick me up from school, so why do I ask for money?Ok?What do you want money for? When I was in the art museum, I was given the nickname Mrs. Qian, but now a middle-aged man pointed his nose and asked him what he wanted the money for. He might as well die. die.The thought came up again. The No. 1 Middle School is close to the train station, occupying the quietest street nearby, and as long as you turn it out, it will be a jumble of fish and dragons.In 2003, ten yuan should be enough for the starting fee of a taxi, but I dare not spend it all rashly, and I still plan to find a bus line.The autumn tiger boiled people, I raised my neck and squinted my eyes to look at the stop signs, and found six or seven, but none of them went to Ming'an Street. I left home for too long and didn’t return. When I came back, I just wandered around the art museum, driving the red E400 of the same model as Qian Songyi’s, worrying about how to get there when I passed the bus.When I was agitated, I felt a man's hand pinch my waist in the crowded crowd on the platform, and when I turned around and saw a purple face, I was furious immediately: "Get away!" The man spat to the side, dodged his eyes, muttered in a strong accent, "Who touched you, look at how you look", and reluctantly backed away. I stared at him as he rolled away, and as soon as I turned around, a migrant worker hurried to catch the bus at the station, threw the big bag over his shoulder, and slammed it directly on my nose. The sour air poured into my mind, and I couldn't see anything. I covered my face, wandered around looking for something to support, and finally staggered a few steps and grabbed a telegraph pole. When I recovered, my face was already full of tears, purely a physiological reaction. It's better to die. That tiredness finally caught up with me. I saw not far away, at the fruit stand next to the fried skewer stand, the owner of the pineapple peeling stand put the knife aside, and in the sun, like a call of duty, a light shone on me. Waking up from the trance again, I was already sitting on the edge of the trickling river. In my hand was a knife with a blade about fifteen centimeters long... how did I get it from the fruit stand? Wang Pingping's body structure is too peculiar. In broad daylight, from the history class to the train station, he was broken twice without warning. The small river exudes a faint stench, and the weeping willows on both sides of the bank are planted in a mess. The branches gently sweep over my greasy face, itching, and already have the breath of decay.I compared the knife to my left wrist, and the blade was right against the tender pink flesh that hadn't grown yet.Wang Pingping had no experience in committing suicide for the first time. The wound was very shallow and did not hurt the tendons. The only thing he did right was to put his hands in hot water to prevent the wound from clotting. When the surface of the knife, which was scorched by the sun, was attached to the skin, I actually felt a little bit of relief.Is it my problem, or the problem of Wang Pingping's body? Maybe both. If I survived to protect Zhang Xiaoman until she was 30 years old, not to mention whether Zhang Xiaoman, who has been to Taiwan, was me in the past, even if I succeeded, she lived past 30 years old—what about me?Also continue to live as Wang Pingping? The trickling river reflects Wang Pingping's face divided by the waves. Who will be Wang Pingping. I gripped the knife tightly and pressed it to my wrist again.The knife at the fruit stand was too sharp, and as soon as it touched it, it cut a shallow white mark, and a second later, blood seeped up along the white mark. ... Fuck, it hurts so much! ! ! Fuck you, whoever wants to die will die! ! !Why is it so painful! ! !Better to die than to live! ! ! Internet cafes at noon were overcrowded. No one will believe me when I say it - this is the first time in my two lives that I have come to an Internet cafe. When I was in elementary school or junior high school, I felt that this was not a place for serious people to come, and my parents naturally didn't allow it.Later, CCTV reported a serious Internet cafe fire incident. I can’t remember the exact year. It was probably because the shop owner was worried that the customers who booked the night would run out of orders. Thinking of the fire at midnight, none of the minors playing games ran out, and they were suffocated inside. Since that accident, Internet cafes in the city have been closed for rectification. After reopening, all IDs will be checked and minors will be refused. I have no chance to open my eyes.Besides, I don't play games, and my computer at home is enough to watch VCDs. I stood at the door and watched the semi-basement below the steps crowded with people and filled with smoke. Occasionally, a few shirtless young men stood up and stretched their waists, throwing the finished instant noodles into the trash can.I had eight dollars and a half left in my pocket—a dollar and a half for a Band-Aid. I have no right to call anyone an idiot. Let's not talk about the ID card, can I go online for 8.5 yuan?I moved my eyes to the glass at the door, and there was a large line of words "Twelve Hours" on the red tape. "It's so expensive!" I couldn't help howling, almost forgetting that I opened a bottle of more than 700 Macallans in the bar just a few days ago. There was an overwhelming laugh from behind.A group of teenagers dressed in weird shapes passed by me and walked into the Internet cafe. The iron chains hanging around their waists rattled with the sound of footsteps.They greeted the little girl at the front desk familiarly, and did not deposit any ID cards. So I also pretended to be a regular customer and followed them in. As expected, the girl at the front desk grabbed me with the dress of a good woman: "What are you doing? Register!" "They didn't register either!" The little girl paused and rolled her eyes: "They...their ID cards are all deposited here, and they have been deposited here before." "Don't worry about me, except for black coal mine miners and nightclub girls, there is no such thing as an ID card. I don't want to make trouble with you, I don't have an ID card, you can either open one for me, or..." I lowered my voice, "I'll call the police." The little girl's eyes were so wide that she was about to roll to the ground.I suddenly heard a somewhat familiar hoarse voice behind me: "Xiaoya, you can just open it for her, don't be silly." I don't know who it is among the group of bad boys, and I can't see clearly because of the smog.The little girl named Xiaoya gave me a white look: "All right, the deposit is 30." I put eight dollars and five dollars in front of her: "These are enough for me to surf the Internet for 17/24 hours, about 42.5 minutes, I promise I will leave in half an hour. Please." Miss Xiaoya was shocked by the mental arithmetic ability that I had honed at the cashier at the cafe. I didn't dare to wait for her to react, so I put the money in her hand, and walked towards an empty table that I had aimed at a long time ago. Just as I sat down, the glass door was suddenly pushed open. "Get up, stand up!" Three middle-aged men walked in, one of them was wearing a police uniform, and showed Xiaoya his ID symbolically: "Routine investigation, compare ID cards." I really got home today. If caught by the police uncle, wouldn't Wang Pingping's father want to skin me alive to wrap the sofa?Wang Pingping is fat and has a large area. It is possible to pack a double seat! I didn't stand up like the others, but shrunk myself down as much as possible. The cat took a quick look at the semi-basement environment on the seat—the area is not small, and the deeper it goes, the darker it gets, but there are two windows in the innermost , leading to a deep well courtyard. run or not?Wouldn't it be worse to be caught if he ran away?Maybe I'm kneeling down and begging the police uncle now, because I'm dressed like a good woman, they can let me go with a few criticisms, right? "Run or not?" who?Who read out my mental activities? "Fuck, Lei Zi is here, do you want to run?" I found that the shirtless men standing not far from me who had just gone to the front desk to throw instant noodles looked more panicked than me, and they looked around and winked at each other. "Hey! You!" The police uncle stood at a high place and pointed at me, "I tell you to stand up!" I was already guilty, but when he yelled, I trembled in fright and stood up suddenly. With a "clang", the dirty floor tiles made a crisp sound of falling metal. ...my knife. That second is as long as slow motion.The vibrating sound of the blade slowly dissipated, and the sound of the fan turning was unhurried. Then the police uncle rushed over.I was frightened and didn't move. It was those shirtless young men who lifted the table and threw the chairs and started running towards the door!The little girl at the front desk screamed, and the room was in a mess.Two policemen went after the young man, the one who jumped at first jumped over the crowd and squeezed towards me, his eyes were red.I was so frightened that I saw the police stretched out their arms and were about to grab me by the collar, when suddenly someone pulled my back and pulled me away violently! "Fool! Run!" My mind went blank, I felt someone clenched my wrist hard, leading me across the slippery floor, towards the small dark window at the end, and crawled through the narrow single wooden window, the man pushed My butt pushed me from the semi-basement yard onto the sidewalk, pulled me up again when I was limp on the ground, and sprinted downhill. I don't remember how long I ran.When I stopped, I couldn't catch my breath, and my earlobes and cheeks were scratched by branches and wooden frames when I just opened the window, and blood was smeared on my hands. I stood in the street in a daze, my throat felt fishy and sweet, but I had no saliva to swallow, and it was burning pain.After a while, I finally focused my gaze on the person who was pulling me to run together. Baggy trousers with belts all over the top, a thin chain on the left and right sides of the waist, a fat T-shirt, red hair, and earrings. And a young and immature face. "Old... He..." I murmured.