Chapter 67 Postscript Zhenhua Middle School, happy graduation

Before writing this postscript, I just finished talking on the phone with K, an elementary school classmate. I haven't been in touch with K since we graduated from elementary school. This time, he found me through the Internet and called to check on the situation. In fact, it is difficult to talk about the "current situation". The information should be updated after graduating from elementary school, spanning twelve years.Everything needs a background, and there are more backgrounds within the background, and strangers are connected to more strangers.There is no way to talk about the current situation, so let's talk about the past.

But find the past harder to tell.Because he can't remember. In the end it was just gossip.He started to recommend that I should drink more Kungfu tea, at this moment I suddenly said: "Yes, your grandma is from a tea family." Even I was a little surprised. Not to mention my classmate, he said categorically that her grandma had been a housewife all her life, and it was absolutely impossible for her to come from a tea family. But I remember it so clearly, as if it happened yesterday. In the summer of the senior year of elementary school, I met him in the small supermarket outside the school during lunch break.I was sleepy and wanted to buy a bag of instant coffee to drink, but the shopkeeper put all the coffee in the bottom row of the shelf, so I squatted on the ground looking for it.He came from the side and kicked me like a ball without paying attention.

I usually sit in the second row, and I am a serious and annoying little monitor; K sits in the penultimate row, and is made to stand every day, either because I talk in class or because I forgot to bring my homework.We didn't talk at school, and occasionally we just nodded when we met outside the school. I don't know why that day, maybe he was very embarrassed after kicking me, so he took the initiative to strike up a few words to help himself. "Would you like coffee?" "Yeah, sleepy, is Nestle delicious? Is there a difference between the ones in long bags and the ones in square bags?"

I still remember the way K stared round his eyes. "You have to drink freshly ground coffee, you can't drink freshly ground coffee and you don't drink Nescafe, Nestle is bad, Maxwell is great." He took it for granted. Really good.Our city doesn't sell Maxwell. K had already had a reputation for this, and he liked things that weren't sold in our hometown stores.But it was the same when I was a child. Once I knew something that was a bit out of the way at that time, I would instinctively like it. Everything that no one else has heard of is so naturally lovable. During the few minutes I was queuing for the checkout, K started talking.So I know that he has three coffee machines at home, and he usually only drinks Maxwell's coffee.His parents' friends sent him a lot of coffee, so much that he couldn't finish it, and it was moldy.

I was not to be outdone, but I racked my brains and didn't know how to fight back, so I could only find another way to say: "I still prefer to drink tea." Drinking tea is more advanced, more cultured, and more in line with my identity as the deputy captain. I'm not lying, at least my grandfather made tea from a teacup every day, which is also a family tradition.Someday.I will also inherit such advanced hobbies. K was immediately deflated. After half a minute, he suddenly stiffened his neck and said, "You can also drink tea. I can't finish the tea at home. My grandma is from a tea family."

"What tea family?" "My grandma was married from Fujian, a tea family, and the eldest lady. And my grandpa is a warlord." ……I lost.Flat out. At that time, I never thought that his grandfather would not be born until 1930 at the earliest. When he grew up to the age where he could become a warlord, the war of liberation would start. When the Kuomintang and the Communist Party fought fiercely, which province did his grandfather live in? But I remember K's happy look.If I suddenly became the grandson of a tea family and a warlord, I would be very happy too. He happily rushed to pay, and treated me to drink the first bag of Nescafé coffee in his life, and said with restraint that Maxwell really tasted better, and he would definitely buy me a drink if he had the chance.

I played this episode to K emotionally over the phone, and he burst out laughing, insisting that it was definitely his slander. K is still famous for "running the train with his mouth full".After laughing, he himself had to admit that he was very capable of such a thing. "But how could you remember so clearly?" He was surprised. Yeah, why. Me and K have never seen each other before and since, and even before his phone call, I have never thought of him, I remember his face as a child, but not his name. But I remember. I remember that K from Tea Family likes Maxwell the most;

I remember Wenwen Jingjing’s classmate in elementary school inexplicably wrote “Eat less radish, eat radish and fart” in the classmate record of the boy who had a crush on her; I remember that the sports committee member was dismissed because he was chewing bubble gum on the stage of the broadcasting exercise competition. During the "stretching exercise" section, he blew out a huge bubble, which covered his face in the wind, and he didn't dare to move around. I had to do a whole set of radio exercises wearing a bubble gum mask; I remember pointing the nib of my pen at the nib of my deskmate, gently squeezing the ink sac, and giving his pen a "drenched energy", because the girl at the back table said "Wow, you two are kissing" and pointed out excitedly. Press the tip hard, and the water from the pen drips all over the tablecloth;

I remember the ordinary-looking captain of the class next door bowed his head and showed a shy smile at the moment when the brigade counselor praised her. The curve of his neck was colored by the sunlight. I remember that on the way home from school in the first year of high school, a strange boy who passed behind me suddenly said to himself, "I should be able to recite it tonight when I'm squatting in the hole to shit"; Or it was a sunny autumn afternoon in the second year of high school. I walked across the flag-raising square with my books in my arms to go to the art and sports center to take music lessons. I raised my head, looked at the sky, took a deep breath, and said to myself, one day, I will fly, Like a bird, no one can stop you from wherever you want to go.

My mind is like a hard drive with a huge capacity, where folders with complete hierarchy are mixed with lonely pictures and videos, there is no division of categories, no sorting of creation time. I don't know when the memory mouse will touch which icon, and without warning, a piece of information from the past jumped out, incredible, but unquestionable. It's not really a special talent. Whoever has no memories will not be nostalgic. However, I am truly grateful to God for making me so sharp in this area.To think of a person whose name I can't even remember without warning, to have a past moment swept over with color and smell when I was unprepared, the feeling is too wonderful to describe.People will always get old and lose, but I still have the opportunity to return to the playground when I was young when I close my eyes, bask in the sunshine of that year, let the troubles and joys of that year control me again, gently Take the hand of yourself from that year, shake it, and tell her that the future will be better.

I am waiting for her in the future. People say that there are two kinds of people who like to remember: those who are not doing well now and those who were not doing well in the past.The former is obsessed with proving that "I was rich in my ancestors", while the latter is keen to show that "I have come to the end of all hardships". Fortunately, I'm neither, so I won't falsify memory with ulterior motives to serve vanity. Memories are a kind of preference, some people have them, some people don't, this kind of difference is like me and K, there is no distinction between superior and inferior.For me, the most important significance of this ability is that it allows me to go back to the beginning through the growth path of myself and my peers, and remember who I am and how I got to where I am today. There are many little beasts living in the human body, with ambition, vanity, shame, aggressiveness, comparison, love, cruelty and indifference.I remember how they awakened one by one at every stage of my growth, and their powers ebbed and flowed, controlling me to do right or wrong things, falling in love with unimaginable boys, and hating harmless girls. It took a long time for me to actually learn to control myself and not be controlled by these little beasts.Forgive after being harsh, let go after expecting, and finally live a truly happy and strong life. That's more than anything. I have many young readers who are still in adolescence, and they will send me many letters, telling about those troubles that may be smaller than sesame seeds in the eyes of adults.But I don't really think these annoyances are trivial.Our family and school education seldom teach them to know themselves, so they look for their own coordinates in comparison with others, and quickly label themselves after being hit by society. Nail yourself in a certain frame, and then euphemistically say that you are mature and realistic, "the age of innocence is gone forever." This is scary in my opinion. There is a saying that "don't forget the original intention". In fact, many people have never had the "original intention" since they were young. The most primitive talents, strengths and preferences are overwhelmed by external forces before they are unconscious. , let alone forget. Someone once asked me, why don't I write about "profound" things, such as society, workplace, marriage and love, and officialdom? I think the idea of ​​judging the profundity of a work by the age of the protagonist is superficial enough. I love writing stories about young people. I remember Hardman’s cigarette butt once said that she was watching a movie one day and mistook the sentence in the subtitles “Saturdays have fewer cars” as “Saturdays are younger”. Of the seven days of the week, Saturday is indeed the younger.Working from Monday to Friday is the responsibility and anxiety of adults; Friday night madness is impure with a sense of revenge for the previous five working days; Sunday night is full of anxiety about the next work week. The scares, this heaviness and the forward-looking are not juvenile either. Saturday only.Saturday is relatively young, you can sleep in as much as you want, and you can push everything to tomorrow without worry or resentment. I love writing Saturday Teens. I love writing about their joys and sorrows, their struggles and compromises.They grew up with unconditional and unconditional parental love, but began to learn to pursue a love between men and women that is conditional and needs reasons; they grew up with being loved, and then learned to love others; from being carefree to being loved for the first time in the world malicious treatment... It's a coming of age story, and it's a story that ends on Saturday. Superficial adolescence will not be followed by a deep adulthood for granted. Wisdom needs to take root to germinate. The seeds are hidden in the hearts of young people, and they will not necessarily be born as long as there is time. This process is fascinating and profound enough. All I can do is give them hope while being honest. Don't whitewash the goodness of the world, and don't promise that there will be gains after hard work, but believe that God created everyone for a reason. What you have to do is to find that reason and live up to this life. There are three parts in the "Zhenhua Middle School Series". The first two are called "Secret Love · Orange Born in Huainan", which are the final chapters.Yu Zhouzhou and Lin Yang, Luo Zhi and Sheng Huainan are the protagonists of the first two films respectively. Like Geng Geng and Yu Huai, they are all students of Zhenhua Middle School. Here, their current situation has also been explained. In fact, these three stories originated from the same boring winter.In the foreign student dormitory in Tokyo, I typed the first word inexplicably, and then I had the best of them. On the surface, it tells a love story between deskmates, but in fact, what I want to write is Geng Geng. A little girl who used the spirit of Ah Q to survive in Zhenhua, a place of tigers and wolves that was completely unsuitable for her, finally grew into an adult with always shining eyes one day. She didn't appear in "Time" magazine, neither entered the Ivy League nor became a rich man, but she no longer drifted with the crowd, but took root in the field she loved, lived happily and with dignity, and was no longer entangled by the glitz of the outside world bundled. Finally, I can open my hands to hug the person I liked back then, and use the warmth I once absorbed to warm the boy who is no longer young. She became the best Geng Geng.And you, will eventually become the best you. If you let me go back to the early spring of 2009, back to the day when I wrote the first sentence of this novel "My name is Geng Geng". I'm afraid I would never have imagined that four years later, many children would say to me, you know?Your books have given me hope and my greatest comfort in my saddest times. Actually, I know, and you know, the stories are all fake.Yu Zhouzhou, Lin Yang, Geng Geng and Yu Huai are all characters on paper.They never existed. However, the most beautiful thing about a good story is that it gives you the courage and strength to turn the fiction you see into the reality you can do. There were 1,517 graduates at the graduation ceremony of Zhenhua Middle School, and the principal of romanticism released 1,517 pigeons for them. Among them are Yu Zhouzhou, Chu Tiankuo, and Xin Rui from Class Two, Lin Yang, Jiang Chuan, and Ling Xiangqian from Class Two, and Geng Geng and Yu Huai from Class Five. More importantly, among these 1517 people, there is one you. Zhenhua Middle School, happy graduation. Chang'an in August July 2013