Chapter 4 The third series Kill chickens and fish until you kill your husband

The first time I went to Beijing from Wuhan, he was late to pick up the station.At that time, the time of acquaintance was still short, and the identities of each concubine were unknown. This delay made people feel suspicious.I didn't say anything at the moment, but it was he who bowed his head to his ears, bowed his brows, smiled apologetically, and trotted all the way to explain, "The West Railway Station was built too unreasonably, with unclear signs, unclear entrances and exits...it's all Chen Xitong's fault." He was still late the second time, and he plausibly said that it was my fault, "You said you would arrive around 10:30, but I would arrive at 10:40, which is still in the 'around' range. Who would have thought that the train would arrive at 10:15?" I At the stage of the robber pretending to be a bride, without saying a word, with one hand under his hands, he pinched him, twisted him, and grabbed him.

After that, I was lazy to let him pick up and drop off, and directly hired a taxi when I got out of the station. The car passed by the deserted streets of Beijing at dawn, and the strong wind blew the ground clean and dustless.I already had a set of keys to his house, but I refused to use them. I pounded on the door in the corridor and yelled, "Open the door, open the door, pig's head open the door." He came over to open the door in a panic, trembling in his underwear, only in time to put on his glasses , Annoyed me, "Neighbor." But the small eyes under the glasses disappeared from the smile.

His family, colleagues and classmates all said that he was extremely punctual, and when he came to my place, he became a habit of being late, maybe because he knew too well that I yelled and ambush him and forgive me. Last year's "October" my eldest sister's family came to Beijing to play, and I seriously warned him, "If... someone will die." As a result, ten minutes after arriving at the T38 station, I received a call from him, "Traffic jam. I was stuck in two It's a crossing away." When he came late, it was winter and he came to appreciate the osmanthus. The good flowers thanked him, and I didn't beat him up. Even if I was gentle, courteous and frugal, the revolution was just a treat, but my eldest sister was considerate. , "Forget it, you can't blame him."

The last few times he went to Beijing, it was a light boat across the river. The woman would travel, with seven luggage and eight bags, and he was urged to go to the platform. Thousands and thousands, here are real numbers, not empty fingers.Then I waited and waited in the carriage, until the conductor came to catch me up, saying that the train was about to return; I waited and waited on the platform again, with the scorching sun shining all over the city. Back to Wuhan. When I saw him, he cursed violently, and he occasionally interjected a sentence between my lines, like an advertisement in a wonderful long-form series, hating Sharen.He said that he didn't know where to buy platform tickets, he also said that he got lost in the complicated passages, he said that he didn't know which platform to stop at even after asking three or four people... He was wrong, but he was not only not ashamed, he was justified There he is.I reprimanded him more and more, he nodded, and the car passed Chang'an Street, and saw a tree in the green belt in the middle of the street, full of round fruits, the size of a small ball, thinking that it should not be an orange in Beijing.I forgot my anger for a moment and asked, "What is it?"

He glanced at it and said, "persimmon." We stopped before the red light, and it was true, new yellow and early green were hanging down, it was really beautiful in every way in autumn.I've never seen a persimmon growing on a tree. Shijing's freshness is much more noisy than the children's, so I was anxious to ask, "Can I eat it..." This time, he was already familiar with the direction of the West Railway Station, and I told the arrival time clearly in seconds. There was no traffic jam in Beijing, and he successfully bought a platform ticket—but, my train was delayed.It turned out that making him wait was more anxious than waiting for him.

There was a lot of luggage, and the two dragged and dragged them to the taxi stop. I stretched my painful palms and said, "Now I can see that the private car is fine." He hesitated for a moment, and said without answering, "I bought it the day before yesterday, Jetta King." I went back to Wuhan for a week, and he took care of it without saying a word?I couldn't help being furious like this, "What do you mean?" I struggled to move while dragging my luggage, panting and sternly speaking.The staff asked one by one, "Are you together?" When they came to us, they saw my cold eyebrows and waved to let me go.

Sitting in the car and talking all the time, his lips were burnt and his mouth was dry, he just kept smiling, neither arguing nor refuting or wronged, his eyes were full of joy, the kind of "my wife is talking, my wife is talking to me" "'s natural joy.I suddenly couldn't continue, coughed, and he said: "Qiuzao, let's go home and buy some pears, please stop talking." I sighed, "How many times have I scolded you." "That's right, I won't change after repeated admonitions." "Forget it, I won't talk about you in the future." I was somewhat dejected.

"Don't mind me. This is fine, if you don't talk about me, I'm not used to it yet." I laughed out loud. I gradually understand that it is my duty to take care of him, and it is also my duty to lose my temper with him.God said, love your neighbors. That kind of love is irrelevant. On the contrary, it is inevitable to have resentment towards your most deadly and intimate relatives, and resentment is warmth.Loving him is the only way to be harsh on him, picking on his head and tail, my fierceness is unreasonable and convincing; but it is also the same love that makes him bow his back slightly, smile and listen, and my evil words are also in the same direction. In fact, it wasn't his fault, and he didn't need to panic.

How to fight at the end of the bed without fighting at the head of the bed?Love may be spotless, but marriage cannot. It is so vulgar, mediocre, and smoky, like a sitcom, but every meal is the most important thing in the world. But it is October at this time, maple leaves are red, maple leaves are good, I can clearly see the persimmons on Chang'an Street, and they are gradually turning red and drunk. It's full of autumn. A few days ago I went to a friend's house to play.The living room was empty, covered with the shadow of the curtains.My friend said that my husband was still lying down, so we chatted and laughed in the living room.Suddenly the door rang, and I hurriedly sat down and collected my clothes.What opened was the door of the guest room, and my other girlfriend came out, sleepy-eyed, wearing a large men's T-shirt as pajamas, with her thighs protruding under the T-shirt.I was startled, and my friend said as if nothing had happened: "She came to play yesterday, it was too late, so she stayed overnight."

After a while, her husband also got up, and came over to joke with me in only a pair of boxer shorts, and squinted at the other one, "Did you sleep well?"--what should he ask. Nothing happened. We played cards, chatted, ate, and watched TV. My eyes were fixed on my friend. Anyway, the sight of my eyes was naked, a man's hairy thighs or a woman's red nails, clear. For some reason, I never went to their house again, and I kept trying to avoid knowing something, probably... there will always be something like this.When absurd things happen, you should always allow me to pick myself out.I won't go in this muddy water.

After thinking about it, I didn't remind my friend.I'm an outsider, and what I see, this half-naked couple is clearly ambiguous.But to her, one is a dear husband, and the other is a sister in the boudoir who loves brothers and sisters. They stay overnight, come and go frequently, and fight and fight. They are all like brothers and sisters of the same father. She probably also read newspapers and magazines, which often contain exciting stories about her husband's lover being her girlfriend.I think she once snorted: Who are these people? The adulterers and adulterers in her mind must be the hairy and ugly rude men in porn and the vixen in vulgar domestic serials.She would never think about her half-fat, middle-aged husband, who barely felt sexual or sexual, or her plain-looking, mostly okay girlfriend with a bunch of glitches. This is an undefended city, and it is our duty to fall.She is too nonchalant, but people are not necessarily indifferent; she can hardly imagine that her husband is of the opposite sex, but for other people, of course he is.In this way, little by little, gradually, the pair of men and women connected because of her unknowingly abandoned her in the three-person relationship. When love and friendship are betrayed at the same time, what choice is there other than crying?Her unintentional mistake actually tested human nature, and the Bible still calls, God, don't test us.Instead of this, I would rather be a sour little woman. Always remember that he is a man, and a cat who doesn't eat fish; always remember that in a certain part of his body, he is still a child, easy to cheat and make mistakes. Hold him close, with tenderness and love, as a witch seduces a boy with sweets; hide him under a black cloak, wrap him in your bed, cover him with your wings.When you come out to eat, drink and have fun with your girlfriends, you pretend to say: "You can go playing cards and fishing with fox friends and dog friends." I always encourage this in my friends, and I would even do it if I could.Everyone laugh at me, but please understand everything I do.Because I can be sad, but I can't be sad twice. Friends or lovers are all chosen by myself, and the harm caused by myself is more serious.As an Estonian proverb goes, "Birch sticks that you bring yourself hurt the most." It's not that he is bad, nor is it that his girlfriend is bad, it's human nature or desire, there are too many things that can easily get out of control.When we buy a car, we have to install airbags in insurance, not to mention marriage. It's midsummer in August, but the night is slightly cool. I just took a shower and was washing the foam on my feet.Suddenly I heard him screaming in the living room, accompanied by a bang, I rushed out to see that the fruit knife was lying on the ground, he was holding his hand and backed away repeatedly, blood poured out from his fingers like milk spilling out of a pot. I went straight to the medicine drawer, turning over and over for cold medicine, "Will a band-aid work?" The shadow of blood dangled in front of my eyes, my heart was beating wildly, and I couldn't breathe.He said: "Do you have Yunnan Baiyao at home?" I hurriedly picked up a skirt on the sofa: "I'll go buy it." My feet slipped in the sandals, and there were soap bubbles. I was so panicked that I didn't think I should wear a pair of flat shoes. There were still intermittent people on the street. I ran all the way, terrified by the sound of high heels, and slammed the electric bell of the pharmacy. "Someone in the family was injured. I want Yunnan Baiyao, what else should I want?" He rushed back with a bag of gauze tape, and his mind was full of coffins, loess, and flowers falling like rain... Pushing open the door, he I raised my head and said, "The bleeding has stopped." I almost kicked him. I used a Band-Aid and wrapped his fingers into a little swaddle.He injured his hand while trying to cut the melon. I avenged him by cutting the watermelon in half and giving him half.He hugged the melon and ate it happily.I was too tense just now, but now I suddenly relax, and I feel uncomfortable all over.I lowered my head, MY GOD, I forgot to fasten a few buttons on the skirt, but luckily it was a long skirt that was over the ankle, otherwise I didn't know where I would have gone. And this is the second time I went to buy medicine for him in the middle of the night.Last time, it was a cold and windy winter, he had diarrhea in a mess, he staggered and pushed me who was already asleep: "Help me find berberine." Xinzhijia really had nothing, so I hurried downstairs to buy it.I had no idea about the winter in the northern country, and I went out without underwear, a pair of cotton trousers, and a huge jacket.The air-conditioning climbed up the trouser legs, and my body, which had been sleeping very warmly, suddenly cooled down, colder than frozen chicken wings.The strong wind hit my unshielded neck again, and my internal organs were extremely cold and cramped.After walking a few steps, my knees started to hurt sharply, and I was limping on the street late at night in December, covered with dirty snow... The more I thought about it, the angrier I became, and I said viciously to him: "If you don't thank Dade to me in the future, I can't spare you." He raised his face full of watermelon juice, with smiles on his brows and eyes, and said in a trembling voice: "Sense, sense." He grabbed the expensive boxed tissue to wipe his hands.This is the behavior I hate the most, and I said angrily: "How much money do you make? What a waste? Go wash your hands!" Uncharacteristically, he didn't confront me, and after a while, he suddenly said: "I just know now A loving couple in Chinese.” I was taken aback. I have always dismissed such an old-fashioned word as "love", and then I knew the old-fashioned marriage.I get up early every day to cook porridge for him; he comes to pick me up from get off work in the heavy rain; when my mother comes to Beijing, he watches it with her, although he has never watched it and has no idea what the TV is talking about; A set of thermal underwear... What is the difference between us and those old couples who married blindly? Even though we have never been in love, I will gradually grasp his body, his soul, his pain and ecstasy through getting along bit by bit, giving and receiving again and again.When I give, I would rather say that the tree has no intention of casting shadows, and I have no gratitude to you; but when I receive, the sea does not know how to love, and the stone does not know how to cry, but how can I have a heart that does not know how to be grateful? The heroines in romantic dramas often say sadly: "Gratitude is not love." But I know that with grace, it's hard not to love or not. They said: In a day, a man will think about sex about fifty times-that is to say, the doctor who took my pulse will be ecstatic in an instant and forget to count how many times; I was distracted while I was talking; at an altitude of 25,000 feet, when the pilot was crossing the sea of ​​clouds and raining... Help, I hope I am not on this plane.It's a little sleepwalking. So, what about sex in a woman's head? She said: "She was aware of the flames in her body when she was young and she was waiting for the playground to clear up and go for a run.On the court, the boys were playing a stupid game, shouting and running were very rude, she covered her mouth in boredom and yawned several times.Finally, the whistle sounded, and the boys cheered after a burst of cheers. A tall boy passed by her, sweating profusely and panting heavily. He took off his sweat-soaked vest as he walked all the way. His young back glistened like oil, sweat The strong smell of her was transpiring, and in an instant, everything about her was different.She said that it felt like a peach blossom, which suddenly felt the soft spring breeze and bloomed. And she said: She doesn't know what sexy is, she is just calm and smooth, sex is a responsibility and a pleasure, but it has never reached the level mentioned in the magazine.Evil thoughts?Yes, only once.She said that she went to her girlfriend's house as a guest, and it was raining heavily, and the water stopped at her girlfriend's house. She was puzzled and said, "It's raining, why is there no water?" Immediately, she realized the confusion of logic.The girlfriend wanted to laugh, but a hand pinched her thigh. It was the hand of the girlfriend's husband, and she was too embarrassed to look at his face.After sitting for a while, my girlfriend's husband said, "I'm going to buy a bucket of water." He went out in the rain.From the window, she saw a middle-aged fat man, holding an umbrella in one hand, walking on the driest part of the muddy path, cherishing the appearance of his shoes and trousers. After a while, the man took a bucket The little worker is here.She thinks of her husband, who doesn't do housework, never spares clothes, makes fun of her belly and her indifference every day in bed, and if she is married to this person in the heavy rain at the moment... a cup of tea is spilled on her hand superior.She finally bravely said that she thought that she could also be like the women in those pornographic movies, so happy that she could cry out loud. I said: What I can think of, the ultimate sexiness of a man is his love—the man who loves me is the sexiest.When he loved me, he held me tightly on the street with people and traffic, and scolded me: "Look at the car, look at the car." He asked me to order all the dishes. None.” I had to add a cabbage, and he said it needs to be stir-fried, and I yelled: “Stir-fried.” Well, that’s stir-fried.He hugged me so tightly that he was almost suffocating, as if he wanted to be a nail and drive into my body.I went to buy a pair of boots that were half a size smaller than my calves. In the noisy shopping mall, he knelt down without avoiding the eyes of everyone and helped me fasten the zipper. Harvested wheat fields... If I say my heart is racing, well, I guess you will understand. So, smart you, don't ask me when a man is the sexiest.I know that there are 2.5 billion men in this world with 2.5 billion types of sexiness, and there is only one I can fall in love with, who makes me light like flying, with slight eye movements, and he will raise his head just right and smile slightly . She suspected she had killed him. Just like the novels I read when I was a child, the noble and silent Miss Emily killed her betrayed lover in a newly furnished wedding room, let his body stink and turn into a skeleton, and then lived with his corpse lifetime. Otherwise, why, first, she couldn't find him for a week; second, she kept smelling a faint smell of decay. They had broken up for more than half a year, and when he was face to face with her, his shoulders were tired.He admitted that she had paid a lot for him, he admitted that he was sorry for her, he admitted that he was ready to bear everything, whether it was her hatred, slap in the face or monetary compensation, he only said: You let me go. Between breaths, she burst into tears.She remembered the first time they met, he had just woken up from a nap, he had big trousers and slippers, his hair was disheveled like an unhappy lion, he came to the party recklessly, when he saw her, he was startled and blushed.She also remembered his body, so good, in the hot summer in the south, in the rented house without air conditioning, he was both explosive and lead wire, death and rebirth, she was sweating profusely, and she was so ecstatic that she almost collapsed. Does he want all these memories?Like throwing away a dead plant.She held on tighter and tighter. Last Friday, she sent him a short message, saying: I made your favorite beef with dried bamboo shoots, stir-fried water spinach, and a tofu soup with mushrooms.He didn't reply.She was in front of the dining table filled with the smell of food, and gradually fell asleep, dreaming that she killed him.I'd rather you die than keep you here.After waking up, the room was already full of twilight, but he never showed up.A bottle of red wine was poured, and a table of blood-red wine flowed out.She silently dumped all the vegetables, but smelled a faint smell of corruption. On Saturday, she called his mobile phone and kept turning it off.On Sunday, she called his sister's cell phone, and the other party smiled awkwardly: "I don't know about this..." On Monday, she called his company, and the front desk said: He resigned.On Tuesday, she finally found the third party's residence, and no one answered the doorbell, so she stood in the dark downstairs for a whole night, surrounded by mosquitoes and flies. But she kept smelling the rotten smell, it was weak at first, she cleaned the kitchen several times but it didn't work, it became stronger and stronger, and there was also a bit of wine's fermented smell, like ether, like a man's body when in love fragrant.She has never smelled the smell of a dead body, could this be it? In her two-bedroom and one-living room, she opened the refrigerator, but found no body parts in it, searched the closet, but found no fingers, and checked the washing machine a dozen times.where is he?Is it him who stinks, or is it their corrupt love? After a week of sleepless nights, she finally decided to cook something for herself this Friday. When she turned on the rice cooker, the stench made her cover her face and take a step back.Last week's pot of rice, which she forgot, has rotted into a swamp, covered with green moss, and long mold like white reeds. She yelled and threw out the pot and rice.Suddenly, she realized that she couldn't keep anything, and what she could keep was already rotten. He loves roses, wine, and enchanting Indian music, and above all, he loves women.And yet he said: No, I don't want to get married any more than I want to go to jail or be captured or sign a lifelong bond of slavery. Marriage is a gloomy two-bedroom, one-living room, weary of getting along day and night, the woman next to me may snore, grind her teeth, and reach out her hand to find her belly.As for the benefits of marriage?He doesn't want children, he doesn't lack sex, he doesn't fear that no one will cook and wash his clothes - there are so many fast food restaurants, laundromats, convenience stores. On Saturday night, he was still HAPPY, first going to restaurants, then to bars, and then to karaoke bars after midnight.A bunch of students, Zhang Shuli, he snatched the microphone without exception.There were always people coming and going, but when he suddenly looked up, he suddenly found that the private room was half empty. And the lights in the corridor gradually dimmed.Although it was a 24-hour karaoke bar, he listened attentively, and the revolutionary songs that shook the roof tiles on the left had disappeared, and the waiter on the right was cleaning and counting the number of glasses loudly. He'd had too much Corona, and the tiny amount of alcohol had piled up like thin layers of ice, and he was a little unsure on the way to the bathroom.A cleaning lady was sitting on the washstand dozing off, and they were both startled by each other.The door of the women's bathroom opened, and two young ladies came out. Their make-up had already faded, and they probably didn't bother to touch up or wash it. Their figure was no longer twisted into an S, and their voices were not all charming. They chatted in a rough dialect with a slightly hoarse voice: " Off work?" "Off work." A picture that is neither pornographic nor poetic.Even the ladies are going home. He went back to his box again, pushed open the door, and almost thought he had made a mistake: "Why are there only so few people?" The one who remained was absent-minded: "Let's go back." Suddenly a large number of girls whizzed in, and he became happy again , Looking through the songbook, he doesn't want to sing what he can sing; what he wants to sing is not listed.Finally, he was ruthless and ordered the most vulgar new song. The crow-headed woman sitting next to him looked at him in surprise: "God, you ordered such an old song? It was three months ago." How could he not admit that he was old and OUT.The last one of his peers in the seat stood up and cursed: "My wife is urging me to die, go away." He couldn't be alone among this group of girls who were on average 15 years younger than him, stood up, and found nowhere can go. His home is actually a lonely house. And he suddenly understood the metaphor of fate.Half of his life is like this karaoke, the world is a city that never sleeps everywhere, the music is non-stop, only the previous song and the next song are divided.And when the next song plays, the previous song must shut up and go home.Not getting married means having nowhere to go in the darkest hour before dawn. And marriage has always been, and probably always will be, the only way out.Not married?It is a rare and unnecessary miracle that flowers never fade, wine never spoils, and ice cream never melt. Finally proved that Einstein was actually a bad man.He abandoned his first wife, refused to recognize his own daughter, and ignored his son, and even his youngest son suffered from mental illness because of it, he never cared... But so what?He is still Einstein. Therefore, when it comes to his not-so-good private life, we are more not condemning, but just vaguely regretting: Why can't this great figure of the shining generation be like Schwarzenegger in "True Lies", apart from being a hero, Or the perfect husband and father? ——It’s just a pity.We remember Einstein for his accomplishments, and no one despises him for being a bad man. What's more, apart from him, there are many, many bad men: Picasso with countless lovers; Rodin who drove his girlfriend crazy; The weakness in the body is just a faint shadow behind the bronze statue, not worth mentioning. And what about those good men?What about men who are faithful and responsible to their families?What about those who devote all their efforts to their wives and children?What about those who are unknown, but spend their entire lives maintaining a happy family?Who else remembers them, thinks of them? Of course, I hope that all men are good men, but there are so many examples silently saying: making mistakes is not forbidden, as long as you are a successful person, or rich, or famous.When you enter the infinite starry sky of history, your shining light will cover the generations to come, and will cover up all your flaws and imperfections.Apart from the applause and cheers, no one has ever noticed that someone is making some low sobs. Perhaps, this is why, no matter how much women desire, there are always fewer and fewer good men, replaced by some successful bad men. Playboy What's wrong with playing heart?At a certain place, at a certain moment, I accidentally caught a glimpse of someone, perhaps just his bright eyes or even a clean forehead, and my heart thumped, and a tree of wild peach blossoms rushed to bloom—this joy, how amazing and shocking. However, what is usually referred to as "flower heart" is always the uninhibited body, which should be called "flower body". Some men, everyone knows that they are beautiful when they see them.Those talking eyes are full of silence and affection, looking from head to toe, the flow goes down; looking from the feet to the head, the flow goes up.He also knows how to lie down and be petty. He can't fight back when he is beaten or scolded.Therefore, the golden boy in the film and television industry, everyone acquiesces to their scandals, and reads the newspaper with a smile on their faces, entertaining our lonely lives-Ekin Cheng is not flowery, so should us ordinary people spend it. But at least, he has the courage to admit everything and bear everything—whether the flowers bloom and the leaves are scattered, whether there is a result or not is glorious.We were moved, no matter flirtatious, extramarital affairs, one-night stand... No matter it is fate or evil, as long as there is love from heart to body, there is no shame. In comparison, Jackie Chan's hide-and-seek with reporters at the airport is a straightforward scandal.Finally blocked, he opened his mouth, boasting, "I made a mistake that most men in the world would make."First you overturn a boatload of people with one pole, but your indulgence is completely innocent. However, being romantic means being merciful everywhere, and being indecent is being merciful everywhere.Is it a playful heart to keep your semen and put on your trousers when you have something to do, without keeping your body and name?What has the heart to do with it; is this lovemaking?Don't tarnish the name of love; is this an affair?But there is a shred of affection. It's too embarrassing to say it's a flower heart, but most of the men's flowers are this kind.However, some people think that this is natural patriarchy, like in a public toilet, grabbing a handful of toilet paper in the pants pocket, not taking advantage of nothing.For women, many men's styles are really close. I didn't say anything.Just occasionally surfing the Internet, I saw a joke like this: A reporter interviewed an old man and asked him the happiest thing in his life. He replied: "A woman lost her way in the mountains. All the men in the village lit up torches to find her. They searched for her all night, so everyone ate meat." Drink, and take turns sleeping with that woman." The reporter thought how could this be written, so he asked about a happy event.He replied: "A goat lost its way, and all the men in the village lit up torches to find it..." The reporter thought it was impossible to write about it, so he asked him the most painful thing in his life.The old man sighed, "Once, I got lost..." How creepy.Cruelty and injustice will recur. If you treat others the same way, they will treat you the same way. On the battlefield between men and women, no one is the eternal hunter or the eternal winner. Kill chickens and fish until you kill your husband A friend who went to Australia said in the mail that he still remembers me as a fleeting glimpse. He is not very familiar with him. Before going abroad, he came to my house with a few friends to play, and he could only hear screams from a distance.Turning around the corner, the fence saw me, and with a raised hand, a chicken flew up half a sky high, and fell straight to the ground without moving, spilling blood all over the floor.I held a knife in one hand, and waved at them with the other bloody hand. My long hair was slightly unkempt, and I pulled it at a slant, and the corner of my mouth was half a smile.Behind, the sun is setting and the reeds are like snow, very violent aesthetics. He said that he was deeply shocked at that moment, and suddenly understood the stamina of traditional Chinese women. ……Have it?How can I not remember?This scene is too Wong Kar Wai.And the original depths of the reeds have long been turned into a community. But it's not me, it's someone else.Which woman doesn't wield a knife?Feedback is often the duty of housewives.Chopping melons, cutting vegetables, killing chickens requires cutting throats, slaughtering rabbits requires skinning, and Spring Festival always buys more than a dozen catties of fish, with sharp knives to disembowel, belly, intestines, and scales. regret.Some fish will turn over painfully when put into the oil pan. Most of the girls don't know how to cook, those days when they were powerless... Later, they all got married. Li said: "Whenever a new daughter-in-law enters the house, she has to go to the kitchen to pack a dish in three days and make a profit. ... At that moment, Bao's family bought a fish, cooked it up, and asked Mrs. Yu to serve it, but Mrs. Yu ignored it." , sitting still.... Madam swallowed her anger, took off her brocade clothes, put on an apron, went to the kitchen, took the fish in her hand, scraped it three or four times with a knife, and threw it into the boiling soup pot with her tail. When Qian Mazi's wife was kicked by her, hot water splashed on her face... Mrs. Wang dropped the knife, grumbled, and went to the room. She didn't come out to sit when the guests were at the table that night."——So unwilling If you don't want to, of course it's the wicked woman. Good wives and loving mothers are all in the kitchen, washing, wiping, frying, frying, boiling, and frying. Gradually, the smell of oily smoke is in the hair, which cannot be washed away.My girlfriend said that every Sunday, the parents-in-law, elder brother-in-law, and younger brother-in-law came to play cards, and she made meals for dozens of people, and she was too tired to eat a single bite.Not even a sacrifice.Some folks say that the wife is "my family cooks". Qi Jun, who wrote "Orange is Red", wrote about his mother: eating vegetarian food, chanting scriptures, raising chickens and ducklings is like raising a daughter, pampering her.And what she raises by herself, she has to slaughter by herself, and she has to cook out the New Year's dinner with her own hands. She rarely moves chopsticks on the big table, and on the reunion table, there are her husband and her husband's concubine—the husband has been in the second room for a long time, and has been living for a long time. in town. Should have?In a certain big hall, the husband's hearty laughter was shrouded in smoke, and the concubine coughed a few times tenderly, all of which were flattering.The husband felt distressed, so he sent someone into the kitchen and ordered the chicken soup to be simmered.The wife killed the chicken, fluffed the chicken, and opened her eyes desperately, but she still couldn't see clearly. The bottom of the knife slipped and cut her hand, bleeding a lot, but it didn't matter, there were already many knife marks on her hand. not out.There is no pain, and the pain is also inertial.In the end, I still shed tears, and my hands were covered in blood, which could not be wiped away.Whose blood is it?Chicken's, or hers?Life is cruel, and she would just accept it like a chick.Even if there was whimpering in the kitchen, it would not be heard in the brightly lit and beaming main room.With a knife, he slashed at the chicken body, full of hatred. - will it?In a single thought, raise a knife and go up? Qi Jun's mother did not, and most lonely women did not. But in a certain corner of the earth, there must be one. It’s been a long time since I came back from Vietnam, but I still often think of its burning phoenix flowers, the moist air that can squeeze out water in the morning, the yellowish and yellowish "Lover" cafe in the rain and fog, and the green baize table in the casino. Mrs. Yu's desperate face. I met the Yu couple in a tour group, and I noticed them at first only because of their disparity in appearance.Mrs. Yu was slender and beautiful, her long dress flowed down like a waterfall, she talked loudly, laughed loudly, took the lead in walking, suddenly stopped, turned around and urged: "Hurry up." "Here we come." The short and chubby Mr. Yu responded steadily, with a big bag in his left hand, another big bag in his right hand, two small bags on his shoulders, and a camera strap wrapped around his neck. He was sweating profusely, but walked quickly. Take it easy. Mrs. Yu took a few steps forward to meet her husband, and said angrily, "You're still sweating after walking so slowly?" She took out a tissue to wipe his sweat away, the silver fish bracelets on her wrist jingled lightly, and Mr. Yu looked at her with a smile , the round body is more and more like a penguin. The summer in Vietnam is so hot and fierce, but the love and affection between them at that moment is like the warmth and brightness of the moonlight. I asked Mrs. Yu, "How long have you been married?" A trace of shyness suddenly flashed across her face, and she lowered her head: "It's been almost ten years." I couldn't help sighing in my heart: Except for a humble and simple man like Mr. Yu, who could be so lively and pretty; and if it weren't for Mrs. Yu's gentleness and delicacy, who would understand the preciousness of a piece of rough jade? On our fourth night in Vietnam, we went to Tu Son Casino. Most of the companions just exchanged coins to feed the slot machine, but Mrs. Yu shouted: "I want to bet on big and small." Asked her husband: "Is it okay?" Mr. Yu always kept quiet: "Okay." Big clouds of white mist spewed out.From a distance, she could hear her crisp, exquisite and crisp words: "Buy big." I fed empty coins, and when I turned around, the whole tour group gathered in front of the betting table, and in the center of the vortex was Mrs. Yu, in front of her was a pile of chips like a hill, surrounded by excited whispers: "Sixth! It's time to open up." I squeezed in and patted her, only to be surprised that her arms were silently hot like a porcelain bowl filled with boiling oil, and beads of sweat were dripping from them.She ignored me and simply said one word: "Big." Her voice was hoarse. Everyone clamored: "Buy small, buy small, how can you open the big seven times in a row?" She raised her voice slightly: "Buy the big." Even Mr. Yu, who has always been prudent, was a little impatient, and grabbed Her hand: "Buy small." Mrs. Yu stared at him, expressionless, and said stubbornly, "I want to buy a big one." "Should buy small." She suddenly slammed his hand away forcefully: "Buy the little ones, buy the little ones, I don't believe that in this life I only have to be a little kid." Many people did not hear clearly, and many people heard clearly but did not understand, whispering: "What is she talking about?" "What is she talking about?" Then one by one, one by one fell silent. As if all the doors and windows were closed one by one, the whole hall fell into dead silence little by little, allowing us to clearly hear the tears, their growth, their flooding, and their slow passing across the cheeks, like a silent drop of rain, or as if The towering tree crashed down. Mr. Yu took a step back and looked around nervously, with an embarrassing expression on his face.She had already turned her head away, took a deep breath, straightened her whole back, and then slowly pushed the chips across the dark green tabletop to the "big" grid. Mr. Yu's arms. A few other scattered chips landed on the table, and the young lady spun the silver bowl with her usual ruthless attitude, and paused for a moment—the moment was long enough for everyone to uncover it ten times in their hearts——opened. 起初仍是寂静，仿佛大家都还没弄清那到底是几，突然，女人们尖叫起来，“是大，是大。”不知为什么，我猛地开始鼓掌，霎时间，仿佛野火春风，所有的人都不约而同地鼓起掌来，我们的欢呼声将整个大厅都惊动了……然而俞太太的头始终没有从她的男人怀里抬起来。 从越南回来之后，我再不曾见过他们，因而便一直不明了究竟是什么阻拦在一对相爱的人之间，让他们必须活在道德与梦幻的狭隙里，只有在万里之外才能偷一点儿快乐。 而那一刻，她所投注的，除了金钱之外，更是她真实生涯里的爱情、青春、不容回头的岁月和作为人的尊严。将一切交给两颗骰子的旋转，开出来的到底会不会是大呢？ 同游的朋友写信来：“为什么在那一刹那我们会鼓掌，我们的掌声里，包含的，是祝福，还是对于一个女人最深的怜悯？” 而我，只默默想起俞太太腕上的双鱼银钏。 我看《绝望主妇》的心得，大概非常出乎原创者的意料：看那豪宅，看那花园，看她们保持得极其完美的身材，看她们戴着珍珠项链、仪容大方地做家务，一件家居衬衣都“优雅”得超过我一个月的工资——优雅其实是一个可以用价格衡量的标准。她们富裕、有序，日子茂盛整齐如修剪过的树木，于是闹离婚、吵架、觊觎体力劳动者的肉身、吸毒、谋杀……无非就是如张爱玲所说：“过饱之后感到幻灭。”闲到一定程度，非得找点儿刺激不可。 养四个孩子的主妇，被孩子们折腾得走投无路，我不同情她。她不用担心孩子们的奶粉钱、生活费、学费，她不在西北农村，要含泪制作草签，让孩子们抽取唯一的入学权利。 与园丁鬼混的主妇，在丈夫与情人之间惹出很多笑料，我也不同情她。她不就是一个现代版的查太莱夫人吗？金钱及肉欲，她居然两全其美、游刃有余，哇，我垂涎得眼睛都绿了。 过分追求整洁的主妇，使得婚姻濒于崩溃。我很同情她，而且，我多么想要这样一个主妇呀。我举目看看我的家，报纸在床上，衣服在地上……为什么布丽不是我的田螺姑娘我的钟点工？ 这一切，不过是在无人知晓处，她们的整洁完美忽然撑不住，出了洋相或者乱子。观众就笑了，以为抓到了她们的什么把柄，于是原谅，因为——她们和我们一样。不，根本不一样。那一点点尴尬，是她们甜美日子里的盐和胡椒。我们令人入倦的工作，上下班时分会挤出人命的地铁，房东逼我们搬家的声音，才是真正的绝望，且绝不抒情、有趣或者发人深省。 有朋友说，最畅销的电视剧，一定是以中产阶级为背景。因为把贫穷这个概念剔除，就等于把现代生活中最惨烈的悲剧元素摘干净了，再大的潮涌也是茶杯里的风波、屏风上绣的水漫金山、亲家太太们在牌桌上玩的小心眼儿。 在中国，尚没有真正意义上的中产阶级，她们的马桶堵了，是为了博来隔壁帅哥的帮忙，我的马桶堵了，我得亲自疏通。边掏马桶，边看《绝望主妇》，简直像曲折的暗讽。 忽然听到电脑上一声响动，一个好久不见的女友上了线，掐算一下时间，她那边是午夜。我不免问：“幸福女人，为啥不睡觉？”她叹道：“可见不幸福呀，我早就是怨妇了。”我大笑：“忽见陌上杨柳色，悔教夫婿觅封侯——有了封侯君，才可以说绝望。”