Chapter 67 Aspirant.6

Now that he knew that the first cock crow was far away from dawn, he had to arrange it in advance. He bought a can of kerosene himself, so as not to have to ask the old monk for refills, which would be annoyed.He no longer "imitated Dannon Xuewu", but fell asleep.The time to go out for dinner was an hour earlier, at six o'clock, and I remembered that there were not many mosquito coils, so I brought back another box.He especially thought that it would be inconvenient to refuel the Mobil lamp with the rooster crowing in the dark, and he couldn't let trivial matters such as adding kerosene disturb his "calm spirit", so he put the Mobil lamp on before dark. When the lamp came, he saw that there was only half of the oil in his belly, so he filled it up to the full.I didn't dare to order any more, I just smoked a cigarette at it, then quickly blew it out, and went to bed.

However, perhaps because he had slept through the day, or perhaps because he was full of ambition, he couldn't fall asleep.He tossed and turned on the bed, wondering if there was anything else that should be arranged first.Everything is well thought out.Only one thing: Maybe the old monk and the young monk overslept by themselves, this is not for fun.He quickly got up, in such a dark place—fortunately, the starlight was very good, he touched the main hall, and knocked a few words on the door of the monk's room.Cough cough cough.It was the voice of the old monk.Tuk tuk again. "Who is it?" It was still the old monk's voice.

"It's me! Hey, old monk, the cock crows—" "It's still early!" There was a bit of surprise in the voice. "Ah, this, I know. I'm here to take care of you, don't miss the cock crow." "No! Cough—hey—" Only then did he feel relieved, and went back as usual, but saw a bright moon emerging from a dark cloud on the main hall, there were a few white clouds in the sky, and everything else was green.He didn't dare to enjoy it too much, so he hurried back to his room, got under the mosquito net, and closed his eyes.Tomorrow's business is important, and he can't stay awake anymore.

But the more I want to sleep, the more I can't sleep.It's fine if you don't sleep, but suddenly some images flicker across the brain.Was it not the "inspiration" of his "creation" or something else! "Why did you come so early! It's too early! Can you wait until the rooster crows?" He patted the bed and said to himself with a somewhat unwilling air.But those images are more and more strange, intermittently, one disappears, but another appears again, just like floating clouds in the sky.He was simply embarrassed.In the end he decided to get up and write this point first.However, just as he sat up, those images were blurred again.He murmured, "Let's wait until the rooster crows," and lay down again.So it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

This time it was God's blessing that he didn't sleep like a dead man.When the little monk yelled the first time outside the window, he woke up with a start; the second yell was louder, and he had already jumped up to answer quickly. The first thing to do when you get out of bed is to light the lamp.The second thing is stewed coffee.He saw a large halo around the flame.The halo was trembling, and it seemed to be bigger when it trembled, and some golden and silver stars flew in the halo.He rubbed his eyes and stretched.Then I felt that something was wrong with my head——dizzy and quite stuffy.He raised his hands, wiped his face vigorously, walked outside the room and stood on the stone steps for a while.The number of stars in the sky seems to have decreased, and the treetops in the distance are white, like a layer of fog.He stared blankly for four or five minutes, and then, as if suddenly awakened, he turned and went back to his room, where he sat in his "post".

The flame is no longer dizzy.His mind also returned to normal.The middle finger and index finger of his left hand pressed against his temple, and with his head tilted slightly, he picked up the pen; the tip of the pen was like a beak of a chicken looking for food, and it was just about to fall on the paper, then retracted, and finally pecked it for the fifth time, It is two big characters: "intoxicated".Although the walnut-sized characters in his masterpiece are less than a thousand words, the "story" has reached a critical juncture. A pair of young men and women who jumped out of nowhere became "meet at first sight"—he got the whole of these four words. Effortlessly, he once attributed it to his black coffee, - the process of sitting under the big tree at this time and talking.Come on, talk!He clicked his lips, and quickly wrote down: "In the embrace of nature." He pondered.The tip of the pen retracted from the paper again.When the tip of the pen lingered and landed on the paper, there was a slight sound from the brewing coffee. He glanced at the coffee, and resolutely circled the word "的", but wrote under the word "中". Three words: "them".The sound of coffee is getting louder.He read the whole sentence again, and finally added the word "two", then quickly put down his pen and picked up the coffee cup.

While sipping the hot coffee, he stared at the sentence he had just written.The words are beautiful and the tone is good, especially not to add or delete a word - this is what he repeatedly put forward when he changed the notebooks for students on weekdays; After coffee, he was going to write.So - "Mysterious sweet poetry, shining in her pair of black diamond-like eyes": one sentence.He breathed a sigh of relief in satisfaction, and suddenly patted the edge of the table with his left hand, and quickly added the words "white as cloud stone", and propping his head with his left hand, added two more words: "black as".Turning his head to look at it again, and finally changed it again, becoming "...the pair of beautiful eyes where the white part is like marble and the black part is like black diamond." He felt that there was nothing to change, so he smiled slightly, and then asked Write about that man.

This kind of "struggle" word by word, unknowingly filled a sheet of manuscript paper.It's time for another cup of coffee, but my stomach growls, as if to say: I want some stuffing.No way!Not even a tenth of Scott's!The stomach should wait.And the "inspiration" is "spontaneously"! He rubbed his stomach with his left hand, grasped the "inspiration" with his right hand, and continued to "struggle" word by word.But the stomach didn't make any sense, it growled louder and louder, despite the poor "inspiration" shaking with fright. The thread of "inspiration" trembled and became thinner, and finally, it broke all of a sudden and could no longer be connected.That was just when the third manuscript sheet was half full.

"Damn it, damn it!" He put down his pen and gritted his teeth.He folded his hands on his chest, staring at Mobil Lamp in a daze.The belly of the fish turned white outside the window, and the sound of even wooden fish came from the hall. destroyed!This time it didn't go well again.However, he couldn't blame his stomach too much after thinking about it.The stomach is unreasonable. It needs to be fed with something, just as his brain needs to be fed with coffee.Why hadn't he thought of that yesterday?Is that the responsibility of the brain?Don't complain too much about the brain, it has too many things to greet!It should be dedicated to "creation".Did Scott have to pay attention to lamp oil, mosquito coils, and even snacks when he "created"?For these chores, his family members must use their brains on his behalf!

"Hey! There is no stable life! Life is created by torture!" He stood up angrily and ran out of the room.