Chapter 28 Chapter Twenty Eight

I woke up in the morning and you were not in the room.The sunshine by the sea illuminates the silk-stocking nightgown you threw on the dressing stool brightly, as if it is about to burn. But I know you must have stood in front of the window for a long time, and the warmth of your body is still on the tasseled curtains.You have to watch the twilight and the sunrise, and your eyes seem to be chasing the sun all day long.You remind me of the countless sunflowers that grow like mold on the walls and glass windows in mainland China in that horrible "sea of ​​red".No wonder I suddenly had a madness to destroy you during sex last night.

I went to the window topless, lit a cigarette, and came to see you in my spare time.Your idleness fell into my idleness.You see, the world is so ridiculous. You are sitting on the beach in all black, among the white sand and the white surf.I look down at you from the height of the twelve-story building, like a small rock.What a beautiful height!I want to plunge into the whole process from the starting point to you at once, fully enjoy the charm of the wind in an eternal moment, and then smash you into pieces. When we are all smashed to pieces, we can't tell you and me apart. Because I know that you are sitting there again savoring loneliness and loneliness. You are not trying to escape and dispel loneliness, but you are deliberately pursuing it; because I know that I did not comfort you and you did not comfort me. The moment of making love passed us We each divided things, and when we joined together, only both sides were smashed to pieces.

I know this because I woke up last night or early this morning, it doesn't matter if it was night or early morning, but I saw a wonderful moonlight. There is nothing but the moon, no sound but the sound of the waves.I don't know whether I am dead or the world is dead. The moon grew larger before my eyes, and its markings disturbed my mind.The ice-like moonlight pressed against my chest, and the deafening sound of the waves forced me to have nowhere to hide.I shouted desperately in my heart: "It's over!" I was not afraid of death, but I was afraid of fear.The most frightening thing is to be afraid and not know why.After a while, however, everything subsides.I want to turn my head to see your moonlight not let me turn my head, I can only stare at the moon blankly.In the embrace of the moon, I lost my body, my penis, and only my eyes.My eyes are glued to the moon.I began to realize that my fear was caused by our successful lovemaking a few hours ago.Whether it's with you or any other woman, you're reminded of that day's death, especially on a moonlit night.

When I opened my eyes that night, I saw the moon. The moon was framed in a square lattice in the middle of the window, motionless.The windows were old fashioned, in the style of a classical theater set, so I thought I was back in the Middle Ages or really in Yama's palace. The torn newspapers covering the windows fanned the moon over and over again.The moon's face was covered with large and small typefaces like lice, and there was a big transparent red character that I could tell was "jump".After a while, the wind stopped, and the torn newspapers were tired.The moon that has shaken off the typeface is exceptionally bright and clean, but it slowly floats towards me with a sad expression.The four pieces of rotten wood that made up the square lattice also gradually melted into the moonlight.

I stared at the moon on the tip of my nose for a long time, but I still couldn't figure out where I was now.There is no sound around, I only hear the moon breathing slightly.I slowly moved my gaze down.I remember that there was a wall under the moon, and there seemed to be a few people squatting in the shadow.I took a closer look and realized that it was my illusion.I always associate walls, shadows, and squatting people.It was a common sight in prisons.After a while, I saw clearly the cobweb formed by countless whips on the wall and the waves of the lake under the moonlight. Then I saw a foot, sticking straight on the moon.Those five skinny toes are spread wide, ready to step on the moon under their feet.The moonlight shines through its five cracked toenails, and I can see the earth's mud hidden there, as if he just climbed up from the rice field and hurried to walk on the moon, without even having time to wipe his feet wipe.Then a voice told me that straight feet mean death.Whose voice is this?Whatever is dead or not, I raise my hand to touch it.

When I raised my hand, the straw rang under me.The noise let me know that I was sleeping on the mud floor, and someone had removed the warm kang.I knew I was sleeping on the dirt floor to feel the cold, and then I was shivering.I'm not interested in who told me that straight feet mean death, I want to figure out where I am now. My fingers touch something.The feeling of touching something like this brings back recent memories: cold, rough, and greasy like moss on a stone.I touched a naked corpse. I am not afraid.My most recent memory is the experience of touching a dead person.A middle school art teacher and an equestrian instructor of the Kuomintang troops died on my left; a district station master and a store manager died on my right.They all died about midnight.If the bell rang for the start of work, and the whole room of reform-through-labor prisoners hurriedly climbed up the kang, this person still dared to sleep in the bed in a big way, this person must be dead.Only the dead can resist the sound of the death bell.I pushed four such brave people in a row without waking up. I almost suspected that something vicious, such as ghosts and spirits, had attached my hand.I used to look at the palm of my hand when I was alive, and it seemed to me that it wasn't my hand anymore, that the claws of a long-extinct animal had somehow grown onto my wrist.

(Honey, that's the hand I touched all over you. You're fine, you're not afraid. You know that hand has been looking for warmth and softness ever since.) Once I lay There was a fever on the ridge, and the team leader said I was pretending to be sick, and ran over yelling to drive me to the field.He said that labor can cure all diseases, and the root of my disease is all in my natural lazy bones.He picked me up and dragged me into the field.During the struggle, I took out the life-threatening claw and took the opportunity to touch his waist.I thought you were going to die now!But he dragged me over 200 meters vigorously as usual, and pushed me down the rice field with a vigorous slap.

I vaguely remember such a thing, I vaguely remember such a scene: the early morning sky glowed with oyster-like warm colors, the stars had not yet fallen, and a lonely lark in the wilderness began to sing, and the brigade started to work .The breeze is blowing, the morning light is shining, and there are strings of bones walking on the sand beams that have been around for thousands of years. If you listen carefully, you can hear those bones jingling in the wind. Those who walk can still breathe and still have life, but those who are carried away by others are already dead.I walked in this sort of funeral procession thinking nothing of it.I remember that for a period of time I had no ability to think, no energy to pay for thought activities.So there is a gap in my memory right now, and maybe that's why I'm still immature and stupid.Life works by nothing but habit.This scene was repeated many times; I walked in the funeral procession every day, buried the dead before going to work, and gradually developed a habit of not sleeping with the dead.I had no idea why the living couldn't sleep with the dead, or even whether it was me or the one who carried it out.All in all, four experiences were enough to tell me not to sleep next to someone called a "dead man".

This habit made me raise my head and look around, gasping for air.I don't know anything else, all I know is that I can't lift this naked body sleeping next to me, and I'd better move somewhere else.The moonlight was very bright that night, just like the sunlight on the day the man was shot.It turned out that many people were sleeping in this room, and the moonlight illuminated their faces one by one.They lay in disorder on the muddy ground.They were asleep but kept their eyes open, but apparently they didn't see me.They slept awkwardly and peacefully. I see them, but I don't see the line between life and death.I'm a little scared.Not that they were dead or that I was dead, but that I seemed different from them.I am always seeking to be like everyone else.I remember that I was a little scared when I was classified as a "rightist", but after more and more people were classified as a "rightist", I felt relieved.I was a little bit happier when I entered the labor camp, because here I saw that I was no different from others.Now I see them motionless and I feel ashamed that I could move.I would rather die if they were dead.But the moonlight made me gradually sober, more sober.I started to realize that I was dead and now alive again.It is more difficult for me to die after being alive than to be resurrected once.Now that I could move I thought of crawling towards the door.I know where the door is, where there is no light.

When I thought I had crawled to the door, I found that I was still in the same place, still sleeping next to the corpse.The moon pinned me to the ground and pressed her light to my chest.I suspect that I am not resurrected, and all this is a dream I had after I died.But I think this dream is beautiful.Any dream is better than no consciousness.I figured I'd better not move so as not to interrupt the dream.In this dream, I was free from heavy labor, and no one scolded or scolded me; if I didn't die and others thought I was dead, in such a gap, I gained a certain kind of freedom. I really feel better when I think about it.gorgeous!Sleeping next to the dead is a rare opportunity for rest.

I gradually fell asleep in the comfortable feeling of relaxation in the whole body, maybe I died again?In a trance, I clearly saw a small donkey cart pulling my body slowly walking towards the morgue.At this time, I was involuntarily controlled by the dream, which insisted on repeating the death experience again. I saw moonlight.But I mistook moonlight for sunshine.The sun was covering me warmly.Two shabby prisoners were discussing whether to strip me naked like the others while driving the car. The older one said: "This guy's sweater can be mended and he can still wear it. I will expire in two months. I have to dress like a person when I get out of this hell. His sweater is mine!" "The young man walked beside the car, glanced at my underpants and said, "If you want to take it off, just take it off. Anyway, after two days, I will bury this guy and no one will see it." Then, the two of them sang and hummed together. "Xintianyou": "My God, for what year are you going to ruin people?" Just like this repeated chant.I really want to hear what the next line is but they can't sing it. I always run to them to pick up the lyrics but they always fail. I lay on the donkey cart and swayed back and forth, the tail of the donkey driving away flies brushed my forehead and eyelids by the way.I heard a staccato sigh above my head, and then I smelled a smell of rotting grass.The donkey's fart took me to the vast grassland, and I thought for a moment that I had been buried there. After a while, we seemed to have reached our destination.I know this place. It is more than a thousand meters away from the Laogai Farm Hospital, and it sits alone on the edge of an uncultivated wasteland. It is said that it was originally a house for shepherds to shelter from the wind and rain, and it has a history of hundreds of years.Two tattered prisoners held the donkey "whispering", and the older one lifted the quilt under me to have a look. "This quilt can still be covered," he said, "Don't look at how much water the quilt and the net cover are torn." Another said: "If the net cover is flicked, it will still be as good as new. , Damn, this guy must be a cadre in the city, do you think this cotton is first-class?" After they commented on my quilt, they raised my head and feet one by one to get me out of the car.I was afraid of being tickled, but I didn't smile when the young prisoner inserted his hand into my splint socket.They casually dropped me on the ground like unloading wood, and I didn't even bother to ask them to put me on a softer place.Then they started to take off my clothes.Fortunately, they took off my underpants first, and the older one laughed as soon as they got to the top of my thigh, and cursed: "Don't pick it up, look, this guy's balls are as big as a fucking broad bean, let him naked It’s a joke for ghosts to see him, let’s do some good deeds.” The young prisoner didn’t have to do anything, and said: “If we want to keep him, let’s keep him whole. This sweater will rot if you tear it off. This guy is so skinny that he only has a few ribs left, and he might die again on the way to the underworld. Forget it, let him wear the sweater.” At this time, I wanted to blush but I didn't. I tried to cover my penis as big as a broad bean with my hand, but I didn't move.I thought to myself that I should wait until I see the kid before covering it up.To be honest, the captain of the reform-through-labour team made sense when he said I was lazy. However, their words have influenced me for the rest of my life.Afterwards whenever I had sex with a woman I would always be ashamed to think of my little thing that even the devil could laugh at.When I was thinking about it, they threw me into the room and ran away, taking only my quilt.I heard the "clang clang" sound of the donkey cart fading away and fading away.Although the sound of the donkey cart is the only connection I have with this world, I don't miss it, and I don't want to go with it.It doesn't matter where I stay in this world.The sound became thinner and thinner, and when I woke up and saw the moon, it suddenly stopped, and all the sounds disappeared after the moon appeared.