Chapter 11 Chapter 2 Master Hu 01

... I cannot forget your help, your friendship and your teachings.This should and must be kept in mind.I've been worried that our misunderstandings are increasing... Do you remember the time we talked about Bo Lao - we drank a lot that day. This is the longest conversation I've had with you since graduation, and I drank too much because of my excitement.Then I had a headache for several days.That time I endured a headache and left, and it didn't take long before I went directly to that place far, far away.Because I was driven by a force in my heart, I found that farm in one breath...

Everything is beyond my expectation, it seems that there is no.What I don't understand now is, why didn't you tell the whole story then?You know almost everything!Maybe you made me have this trek on purpose?Yes, it's really good for me to experience it for myself. This time I was baptized. The whole process made me unbearably sad.I thought about it a lot--I wondered how the old Stuttering Professor, his companions, and all the unfortunate good and the poor, were ever to worry me so much.Why?Why? Because of them, I think of my father, grandfather, grandmother, and especially my mother—I always feel that they are surprisingly similar in many aspects, such as their stubbornness and enthusiasm; their final fate is also similar.I am sorry for these immutable fates.

What I can't figure out is how do I start after figuring it all out - am I starting?Should I be silent or call out in my life?If you shout, you are tantamount to destroying your throat; if you are silent, you are waiting for the internal fire to burn itself.The ending is the same.All the combustible heat accumulated in my body will burst out in an instant, forming a bright spot of light, burning myself up.It is enough for me to know that one life can do this. In solitude, I think about your focused eyes, deep wrinkles on your face, and silver hair for a long time.You rarely talk about your own experience and life experience.Too much telling is always dangerous for an intellectual.If he is not a superficial person, then an intellectual with a heart must have prepared for a more intense battle before speaking out about all this.That is tantamount to igniting all of oneself to deal with the blackness around.Unlike some people, some extremely boring people rely on "remembering bitterness" to seek charity in this world.You only keep your hardships in your heart, and you only use gentleness to comfort your friends, especially your students.

I believe that your eyes are watching and observing coldly—the world around you, people of all kinds, accidents, especially your disciples—who are now walking around, and there are no more people holding a geological hammer. Much more, mostly in brightly lit offices.But you talk about your students with rare excitement, and you don't see them as betrayals of your profession. In your eyes, the betrayer seems to be only me.You said it was absolutely unexpected.And I seldom justify it, because I did leave the 03 Institute, joined a magazine, and now I am a self-employed grape grower.You cannot tolerate all these changes, and you are completely disappointed.

When a place or a business collectively loses the most precious things, such as the least enthusiasm for truth and justice, and falls into a situation that is a hundred times more boring, it also loses its sanctity.Leaving it can only be a good thing, a right path. What I loved from the beginning was not just geology, but the essence of poetry in this profession, which is really solid.I am excited by its romantic search and persistent inquiry.If I leave this spirit of it, it will really be considered a betrayal. Teacher, please don't be disappointed, really don't... I miss you so much, your way of sipping tea slowly, your sudden anger and sharpness, your integrity and selflessness.I dare not think of losing your teachings and friendships.The anger and disappointment you have expressed many times has caused me to think deeply.I will return everything to myself in time...

You have stated clearly and unmistakably more than once: It was a blessing that I left Baihui back then.You somehow associated her with Bai Lao.You have a completely different attitude towards plums.You seem to be blaming Bai Hui too much, and I can't explain the complicated thoughts in my heart for a while. Facing the current Bai Hui, you hardly said anything.As if she should have come this far.I think she is so lonely.The loneliness of a woman is always sympathetic.A woman's loneliness is a bit like martyrdom... But she is extraordinarily strong; the stronger she is, the more sympathetic she is.Unfortunately for the violinist too, he went bald because of his art.His art is lovable, and his attitude towards art is also lovable, but he is not very lovable.As soon as I saw him, I knew that Bai Hui would not love him for long.Bai Hui is too good, too good for ordinary people to match.She was angry with his choice at the time: people often can't do anything well when they are angry.

You know how much I miss her.As the teacher of the two of us, your love for us should be the same.Please help her more. When I reminisce about my school days, I think of her endlessly.Now I can still clearly remember the first time we met, and when I think of it, I feel a warmth in my heart. It was autumn, it was September, and the wind was a bit cool.Some of our boys who had just entered school went for a walk in the orchard on the east side of the campus, trying to hide their joy as much as possible.The weather is neither cold nor hot, the green is still so strong, and a new life has just begun. Even if I see a small grasshopper jumping out of the grass by the roadside, I want to talk to it.In short, my heart is full of excitement.When everyone is lucky, I was lucky at that time.That kind of luck is so great that it is somewhat unreal.I paid attention to the classmates who walked by, their clothes and demeanor were equally fresh.It is indispensable to look at the girls, all of them have long faces, round faces, fat and thin ones, those who like to dress up and those who don't like to dress up, anyway, all of them have timely tenderness.They all have a feeling of affection for this famous geological college and the boys here.We nodded and smiled as we didn't know each other.

I saw a tall girl, she was wearing a yellow-green pinstripe jacket, the dress is very special, it seems that the collar is very wide; the skirt is fat and checked.Her face was flushed, as if she was being shy - after watching for a long time, she knew that her face was always like this, burning hot.Under the reflection of the setting sun, who would not pay attention to such a face?Really, my old Master Hu, guess what I thought at that time?Sweet potatoes came to mind.I think the most beautiful and memorable of reds is the redness of the sweet potato that has just been dug out of the soil.She smiled and glanced at several of our boys, but only I accepted her smile deeply.She was just in her twenties then, and she was really strong, not fat at all.Her health, her youthful enthusiasm, simply overflowed.Her eyes were slightly sunken, so black they reminded one of purple-black buds.She was laughing, but only the girl next to her was laughing crisply; she was laughing alone... a special laugh that would never be buried.

I brushed past her in no more than a few seconds.But I remember everything, especially her shy face, her fiery face.Her forehead is slightly bulging and smooth... The bridge of her nose was ignored by me, it may be slightly raised. Mainly that hot face. She was unreasonably, heart-warmingly shy. But the second time I saw her I knew it was a misunderstanding, she didn't have that face because she was shy, no; she was born with that face. Now I also understand what kind of face the most attractive girl in the world will have.Maybe the beauty conveyed by her facial features is far less touching than that fiery face.The terrible heat it radiated seared my heart with just one blow.

... everything is a thing of the past.It's passed.I immersed myself in these memories, hoping to find out what was most important in them.Did I find it? In her I relived the tremor I felt at the plains and mountains dear to me, and at some occasional moment of unspeakable sublime and sublime beauty in them.It's there, it's unforgettable... I believe today that's what life is all about.The meaning is like this: it is condensed in a very short paragraph, but it is worth pursuing for a lifetime. My life goes on, and the moment of knowing, of the intellect, of the shock of life that it brings about, is where all my hopes lie.Otherwise, there would be no me, no meaning.

To it I must be faithful. My nostalgia is based on the above understanding, so I can tell you, Bai Hui and Meizi all of this at the same time.My talk not only makes me happy, but also reminds me again and again.I am afraid that my soul will sleep, so I will keep it awake forever. But I will not forgive Bai Lao because of Bai Hui.On the contrary, when my warm emotions overflowed, it was the moment when I deeply pursued the Bai Lao clan.is it about meYes; but it is far beyond me.I am moved because of my enlightenment, and I will never waste precious time in ignorance. What I want to say to the teacher is that now it seems that ordinary kindness and love are far from enough.Because this kind of love and kindness is often easy to deviate, easy to be covered up and used - this is exactly what I worry about you.Please forgive my frankness, because I can only speak from my heart. When a man has seen old blood and fresh blood, and seen too much, he is far from being satisfied with ordinary love and kindness.He will ask for the one that is unforgettable and entangled until death.This is too harsh, and it will be even harsher in today's chorus of compromise; but only by being so harsh and so focused can we save ourselves a little. You express a certain disappointment in me, you are truly disappointed in love.You often remind me to be a good scholar and stay away from ubiquitous disputes.You are afraid that this consumption will eventually destroy me.I know that you have been watching my behavior since I left you and came to 03 Institute.How grateful I am; but now I feel so much grievance in my gratitude. ＊＊＊ It is clear that someone has misrepresented the truth in your flashback.I know that with any event, that worldly understanding is to taste.It is like a soft and sweet melon, everyone is happy to eat it.You have all kinds of friends and students, more than one of the 03 schools I've worked at.The reason why they are more lethal is that they are not so obviously on the side of evil, so they become "modesty gentlemen".At this critical moment, what I am most afraid of is such a "gentleman".But not everyone is scared. "Gentleman" talks in a popular way, "Gentleman" is always cute, does not get involved in disputes, detached and fair, and always seems to be good. This is how their hypocritical nature is quietly concealed.People don't see that they are ducking, running away from important choices.If this kind of evasion itself can be forgiven, then their slander against the suffering, their hard-working and heartbreaking resistance and persistence, and the slander they gave under cover-up and cover-up are inexcusable. To put it more harshly, they are guilty in the battle of blood and tears, in this long-standing resistance. You know, they should have a better understanding of everything in 03 Institute than I do.They came here ten or five years earlier than me, and they are very familiar with the director, deputy director and others.The history here is clear and short, and this short history does not require a particularly sharp eye to penetrate and identify it; all it needs is a fair heart and the courage to speak.The way they face the stories of blood and tears is to turn their backs. This reminds me of a person bleeding and moaning on the road, but pedestrians turn a blind eye and just rush on. And someone hugged the wounded like a brother, and let the blood stain himself... This need not be commented on.Whose comment does a man need, who holds the tearful in his arms, and considers himself the brother of the weak, the wounded, the unfortunate?He just walked away with his arms in his arms... The commentator hides behind, among the passers-by who don't pay attention.They have no self-ashamedness, only cold, ruthless mockery of the figure in the distance; their mockery seeps the resentment caused by inferiority. You certainly don't want me to be that bystander.Yet on another occasion, you surprisingly affirmed those bystanders.Your reason is simply: they are on their way, they have been on their way, and nothing can disturb them... Is that right? You may also point out that the problem is not that serious and that the ○3 Institute is not as brutal and bloody.And today I want to point my fingers and tell: the fact is that it is so serious, it is bleeding.And the blood is still flowing to this day, continuously... You know the story of Bo Lao.The daughter-in-law who knelt and died next to the stuttering old professor once made you cry.The stuttering old professor you most respected in your heart was half mad before his death, and he festered his whole body with his hands... This is a true story that you have personally experienced, and it no longer needs those "honest" bystanders to tell you. In fact similar stories are unfolding in various forms and in different places.They do not become unreal because they escape our view.These stories are sometimes so similar that they are almost plagiarized.From the point of view of appreciation, they are no longer interesting, and the moment they are born, they lose their freshness because of the similarity. But I am not appreciative here.Facing the cruel truth, I was left with only the solemnity and passion of a witness.One day I will spare no space to write down all the similar stories. Because of the lack of similarity, the truth is lost... When I first came to ○3 Institute, I had such respect.Carefully pick up one of your own jobs, with double the zeal.Our leader is called "Porcelain Eye", and he is almost exactly the same as Bai Lao: he has good experience, which can stand up to any scrutiny; he has several books, which are hard to shake professionally; That historical product still has a little truth and weight in its clumsiness.His lieutenants were so afraid of him, although he seemed very nice most of the time.There are two deputies in total. One is a timid and good old man who treats the boss like a parent; the other is a famous and taciturn expert who is so serious about his work that he seems to be deliberate in this kind of devotion. Speed ​​up and exhaust all your enthusiasm and energy. I don't know if I was lucky or unfortunate, I told the latter one, and he became my mentor.I participated in several major projects led by him, so I was able to observe so closely how a scholar who spent most of his life lived in the years.He devotes almost all his time to his career, and he is hardly bored or tired.As any expert knows, professional disappointment and apathy strike from time to time, but my mentor alone did not.At that time, I had nothing but admiration, let alone thought of anything else.It never occurred to me that he was already catching up with the aftermath of his life at that time-that is to say, he had very little time left.He was burning fiercely in this terrible premonition, like a life-and-death love... He also writes poetry in his spare time, which is like that mountain teacher again!I have seen the things he wrote down, all recorded in a dark notebook, probably accompanied him to travel many places and for a long time.I am amazed at my luck and understand that it is a blessing.Those simple chants are affectionate and focused, with great enthusiasm hidden between the lines, which have a similar smell and color to his academic works.This made my heart jump, and I suddenly realized: what is knowledge, what is science, and what is poetry.I learned that true knowledge turns into poetry, that they are one and the same.All poems that are divorced from poetic knowledge, or poems that are divorced from intellectuality, will have a trace of superficiality and hypocrisy to varying degrees. I will always be grateful to the first mentor after I stepped out of the courtyard, he was so simple. In my daily study and passing away, I never imagined that his thin body contained so many longings and indignation, and his perseverance and patience were too heavy; The first cornerstone of academic and poetic sentiment. He also had a teacher who fell miserably, how similar to you.But at that time, he himself was experiencing a terrible situation, and a fierce beast was sitting on one side, staring at it... This seems to be different from your situation... There is a reason for the kindness of that "porcelain eye".Because almost everything he wanted to do these years went well, and most of the time he was content.Only at the moment of greater greed-beating the table, stomping and cursing--some people have seen such scenes, and they were dumbfounded at that time; fortunately, this kind of situation usually does not happen.I've been to his office a few times, and it's pretty damn grand.There are several large and spacious rooms, including a reception room, an office and a small lounge, which are strung together inside.The oak floors were polished and polished like mirrors, and there were pure wool rugs in between - one of which was an itchy blue. The office room is also a small study room, with a large row of bookshelves shining golden in all kinds of hardcover books on literature, history and philosophy.He was sitting in front of a large and strong writing desk made of high-quality wood, stretching out his hand to gently comb the back of his hair, staring at people with a pair of porcelain eyes... He rarely talks about academic issues, and the topics are far from professional.This is similar to Bo Lao.The technical terms he mentioned are the simplest and most frequent in life.It seems that a giant of the sea of ​​learning is already silent.In fact, we all know what this is all about. If there is any uneasiness in Porcelain Eyes, it is that he is terribly afraid of my mentor—fear of that cold silent face... It is this silence that disturbs him.The silent existence, the opponent who does not respond at all, is often unbearable.Even "Porcelain Eye", who has the right time and place, still fears the opponent's silence.This is what I have realized for a long time.It's a pity that I understood the story itself and the truth conveyed by this story too late. Here we have to investigate the history of "Porcelain Eyes" just like treating Bai Lao. His experience is similar to Boss Boss's, and everything he participates in is also very similar to Boss Boss's.As I said earlier, this is a "similar" story.But it is precisely this "similarity" that makes me shudder even more.Because roughly similar stories took place in the same land, there is reason to deeply suspect that it was some kind of conspiracy.Why is it so "similar"? ... "Porcelain eyes" also devoured the labor of other people in the old way, and the ending of those people was not much better than that of the stuttering old professor.They all disappeared in farms, labor camps, forest farms and the like, lost in the soundless fields.Among them is a very important person, that is, an opponent of "Porcelain Eye" here, the original old director.The old director suffered a lot during the chaotic years, and the "porcelain eyes" at that time also resembled Mr. Bai, just because he was proud of himself.With extremely despicable means, he simply took advantage of others' danger and deprived the old man of everything... At that time, my mentor was just a disciple of the old director, a young scholar whom the old man valued most.They may rely on a kind of "blood relationship" and can be recognized at a glance.The reward given to him by the old director greatly stimulated that "porcelain eye", so when the opportunity came, "porcelain eye" would never forgive these two people.The teacher and pupil start out on the same farm and later separate the two, depriving them of their last bit of solace.Under the inhuman torture, the old man finally failed to survive.Because no one thought that the season of coldness and solemnity would last forever, and he could not get his own spring.My mentor was still a little youthful at that time, so he persevered, and finally survived... Who knows more about "porcelain eyes" and the history of people like him?Of course, there were other disciples of the old man among those who survived.But experience and history have long proved that: Among the people who have gone through hardships, there are very few people who are still alive in spirit, even fewer than imagined and expected; not to mention malicious betrayal and following.Betrayal abounds among those poor fellows who hang out in the academic world;In addition, there is a sigh of forgetting: forgetting all the unpleasant things, forgetting the bloodstains of yesterday, the wounds that have not yet healed... They walked into today's life very easily, walking with ease. All the betrayers, forgetters, followers, boring scholars, and cowards are not the concern of "Porcelain Eyes".There is only one person he can't forget--my silent mentor. He was in his fifties, but he looked close to seventy, with thinning hair and a gray complexion.That's what he looked like when I first met him, so I wasn't particularly worried about it afterwards.All he knew was that he had suffered from heavy stomach bleeding, and he thought it was caused by his past life in a labor camp and long-term field work. He never thought that there were other terrible hidden diseases tormenting him.He vomited blood again, which aroused the great concern of "Porcelain Eyes". "Porcelain Eye" inquired about his condition, and when he realized that it was just a relapse of an old disease, he let out a sigh. "Porcelain Eyes" walked away regretfully. I got a little relief when my mentor came back from the hospital.I am determined to help him recover as much as possible, even if he is a little bit healthier; I want to bear all the hard work for him, including the posthumous work of the old director who he was worried about day and night: this is a manuscript covered with bloodstains, work Besides, he spends nights and nights all over these old scraps of paper.I have often seen the mentor stare at them for a long time until his face turns livid. But he kept silent about the old man. I asked more than once.I'm afraid of this heavy air because I've heard enough.In my heart I was eager for firm confirmation, and I knew that such confirmation could only come from the old man's most loyal student... But he always kept his mouth shut. It seemed to him that there was no need to talk about it.It is not a secret, but involves something higher than a secret, for example, it is dignity and justice, courage - when he feels that the other party - the talker - is not enough to bear and understand these, he would rather keep it secret mouth.Maybe my mentor was right.Today, I know more and more the depth of this belief.I was still too young, I was just a hot-blooded youth - at least according to the mentor. In this way, we often sat together for long nights and spent some peaceful and unforgettable nights. What I felt was the pain that my mentor couldn't communicate with me.I feel a little wronged because of this, and feel that he doesn’t understand my experience too much—he may regard me as a college graduate in the general sense; he can’t know the family I belong to, my long wandering, my The bloodline given to me by my relatives, the Shen Shen story of our family...all of these cannot be explained or preached, because they are also taboos in my heart. Mentors are painful and self-respecting.What he faces is a great heart and a world that is difficult to talk to.He touched the teacher's ink over and over again, and occasionally raised his head to glance at me. His eyes are still there today. But I followed the instructor based on my feeling.I consciously stood by his side. All I can do is stand by his side; how much I want to use my body to cover something for him.Did I really hear nothing during those long silent nights? I have captured his impatient and powerful voice, and firmly remember it. No one believes we are silent. People around "Porcelain Eyes" asked more than once - what is that person doing?Someone even warned me bluntly: that person secretly pointed the tip of the knife at the "porcelain eye". It is extremely sinister, so be careful. My heart tightened and I endured it. They wantonly poured sewage on my mentor and collected everything about him: What did they say?What have you done? How they feared him!Is it really a person they are terrified of? I am also surprised that there are so many people around "Porcelain Eyes", not only ordinary snobs, not only official fans who are over half a century old, all kinds of ignorant liars, vulgar people, lustful people, There's even "Innocent Girls."They wore jeans, no jewelry, and the prettiest dresses in the city in summer, among the filthy crowd.They are young, but they have a very keen sense of smell, and they can figure out all the smells as soon as they inhale, and understand what the director "Porcelain Eyes" likes, what they object to, what they hate, and who they are hoping to die early... They yelled "" Director", insinuating complaints, looking at people with affection... Some of them are quite charming, but they are so bad that people dare not love them.They were probably born to be corrupt beauties for maggots. It is very convenient for them to come forward to spy on something.Sure enough, a girl slandered my mentor affectionately in front of me.She had secretly betrayed me several times before, and I was still in the dark.I couldn't bear to scold a beautiful girl, but I couldn't bear it.When I sternly reprimanded her, I also felt a little pity for her, thinking she was too unfortunate. I think they are all the same, humble to the extreme. I don't bother to talk about this type of people in the crowd - people who get involved in the ugly out of time.In one corner, if even old people and young girls are involved in the conspiracy, then the world is really absurd and hopeless. You may ask me puzzled: what about your friends?Why don't you talk about your friends?Don't you and your mentor have a single sympathizer? Of course we have our own friends.If my mentor had not been maintained by those righteous people in various ways in the past few decades, I am afraid that he would have passed away long ago.You must know that the environment he was in was extremely dangerous. Until the year before his death, this situation did not improve in the slightest.I am not very demanding of a truly upright person, and some of your students are definitely not upright in my eyes.Honest people do not necessarily look brave. They can keep silent, but they will not refuse to save themselves, let alone give their hearts to the devil.They never go along with the omnipresent powerful forces, sometimes like dumb.But I believe they told themselves all the time, neither temptation nor coercion could make them move.They finally managed to keep their hearts clean.This is a kind of integrity.They protested the rape with a silence that is often felt because it has weight. Some people have also been silent, but it was a frivolous dodge, without weight.Their silence is just for the chance and power to speak well one day. Righteous silence, it has the weight of gold. It is this weight that has long balanced a world and enabled my mentor to exist.How important his presence is, we cannot live without him here. This is not only understood by kind people, but also by "porcelain eyes". So he pinned his hope on the disappearance of the other party's body.He just didn't expect that the human spirit would never be extinguished, just like the old man who died in the dark age would still haunt him and make him terrified. People around him came to inquire from time to time: Has that person talked to you about the old man?What did he say when he talked about the death of the old man? Old Master Hu!When they reminded me again and again, what I thought of was not the old man who was murdered by the "Porcelain Eyes", but the old stuttering professor who often died tragically in the prison in Xiaocheng. Those few students of yours described my mentor as a person who deliberately struggled for power, and said that the person whom the old director loved so much did not get the post of director, but fell into the hands of "porcelain eyes", of course Always stubborn.So it is only natural that he hates "porcelain eyes".Since it was a contest, both sides were equally boring; that is to say, in their eyes, he was almost the same as "Porcelain Eye" and others, and even worse than "Porcelain Eye"! Look, here are the people you said were "in business" and here are the people "not involved in unnecessary disputes"! I have never believed that those people whose minds are full of dirt and lose the ability to judge basic right and wrong will eventually have any "academic" and "career".That's a lie. "Academic" and "career" are two good words, but here they are used by them to cover up their despicable insignificance.In fact, as early as the moment they lost justice, they had already lost the right to talk about academics. To speak of my mentor in that tone is inherently cruel. Do they really not understand what rape and shamelessness are?Did they really turn a blind eye to the utter ugliness and see the bloodshed?No, it all happened in broad daylight, and they saw and heard everything.The reason why they deliberately confuse the public can only have one conclusion, and that is their despicable and cruel hearts.They fail to be an accomplice in time, only because they are more cowardly and cunning than the accomplice. This is my true and proper conclusion.Although it might make you uncomfortable. Next I want to talk about some well-known facts, which even those "honest men" will not deny-since it cannot be denied, then we have reason to ask: When these things happen, what are the "honest men" doing? where? When my mentor vomited blood for the third time, my friends and I couldn't stand it any longer, and despite his repeated refusals, we still contacted the hospital for him.He didn't go, so we called a doctor for him.Without a thorough inspection, just looking at it generally, of course there will be no accurate conclusions.In the end, it was still treated as a general stomach problem.He has had this disease for at least twenty years, and it can easily paralyze people.As a result, he took a lot of medicine, and led the survey team to the eastern plains in the spring of that year. At the same time, the 03 Institute was organizing a siege against him.It sounds like a big deal, ridiculous and incomprehensible, but it happens.I believe that "Porcelain Eyes" has been preparing for the final blow, suffering from no chance to strike - for no reason.He thought hard, and now he finally saw the right moment. There was a long-running air of lewdness in the building.This is humorous enough to say - a large office building seems to be in order, with work and get off work, reception room guards are all available, various organizational forms, group meetings and summary meetings are all available, water and mopping the floor, temporary workers and handymen are all there. Little, how could it be like that?But that's exactly what it is.A newcomer still has a habitual thinking, and may not be able to capture this feeling in a short time.When I first came here, I just thought it was a bit strange, for example, there were always people walking on tiptoe, smiling mysteriously, greeting with special gestures and so on.The girls are dressed in bright clothes, doing all kinds of work in the building; sometimes the building is full of laughter and laughter, and suddenly it is as quiet as death... The boss "Porcelain Eye" is very kind, especially to women.His two eyes are different from ordinary people, shining a kind of ceramic color; one of them is slightly protruding, stiff and stern, and only the other eye usually smiles.Women have a special rigidity in front of him, and he tries to make them relax, and sometimes he has to reach out and touch each other's hands and shoulders.Women feared him and admired him—how mysterious he was, so tantalizingly curious.He is actually a well-known figure in the academic world here, his photos were printed in local magazines, and he sat in the center of such a grand meeting... They watched him up close now, and saw his white hair, the wrinkles, the red cornea of ​​the protruding eye, the stubble mingled with white hair, and the graying nose hair that had been trimmed in time.He was often about the same age as their father, and there was a kind of security and trust, a kind of adventure-like happiness with him... "Porcelain eyes" became more and more presumptuous, and they cried. "Porcelain Eyes" finally had to sternly reprimand them before they stopped crying. "Have you been to the office to talk?" They sometimes asked one another slyly, and the other party pouted, that was the talk. Conversations are frequent.The director made an internal call and had to go.Walk through the deep three doors, step on a flowery carpet, a yellow carpet, and finally a blue carpet.There's also a loveseat, as big as a Simmons bed.The director's work is too busy and sacred, but it doesn't make him insensitive and unreal.He is good at taking advantage of various opportunities to mingle with the masses, and even the little girls who have just graduated from high school and college do not despise them, and never put on airs because of their lack of qualifications.He always said to the twitchy girl: "The style should be more aggressive!" He often talked about the harsh war years, and described the blood on the battlefield vividly.The young girl was so frightened that she didn't dare to vent her anger.He sighed for a while: "Why don't we cherish today?" He grinned, and his golden teeth flashed, which was somewhat chilling.But he quickly grabbed the opponent's palm and slapped it, saying, "How good, how good..." He hugged the other person, making him breathless.终于在憋闷中有了一声伤心的大喊，引得其他房间的人一步跨到走廊里。人们站住谛听一会儿，如果再也没有什么声音，就回去了…… 平时上班整座大楼几乎没有一点声音，静得掉根针也能听到。好像所有人都在小心翼翼地挪动，连翻书也要轻轻的。 大家尽可能不说什么，更多地使用眼睛谈话：丢下一个眼神让人久久琢磨。怨恨的眼神、埋怨的眼神、娇嗔的眼神…… 各种神色飞来飞去，紧张得人汗流浃背。有一次我终于忍不住，大喊了一声说："你不会说话怎么的？"对方吓得掩住了自己的嘴巴，小声说："你怎么了？你这样非挨训不可……一再强调要肃静、肃静……"我那时的对桌是一个四十多岁的胖女人，每天都把脸搽成了杏红色、眼睑搽成蓝色。她甚至把脚趾甲也染成了血红色，用力地伸到我的面前。我只瞥了一眼就不看了，她很不高兴。她不停地朝我使眼色，我不太明白，她就捏我一把。我很反感。后来她一边去旁边的橱上拿一摞书，一边把胸部挤压在我的脸上。当时我正在专心读书，毫无预料。我跳了起来。 "你啊，你非得让人好好训训不可！" 她的声音小极了，但我听出是恶狠狠的。 "所长是个老资格了吧？人家也不像你这么傲气。听过这句俗语——到了什么山唱什么歌儿？……" 我知道这是个乌烟瘴气的妖山。夜间回到自己的宿舍，一个人到水房里，大把大把地把水捧到脸上。水凉凉的，一直流到胸前，舒服极了。我回忆着来到这座大楼工作的前前后后，心里有说不出的失望。我恶心。 可大楼又是吸引人的地方，不少有权势的人物都把自己的亲属送去工作。因为这儿的名声听起来好，而且福利奇高。 "瓷眼"专门搞了个第二办公室，连续多年搞一些奇怪的买卖，专发不义之财。这笔钱除了用来专门挥霍之外，就是以各种名目的"津贴"和"补助"发到各科室；夏天分瓜果，秋天分核桃香黑米，冬天分高级布料。 胖女人上班时依旧瞪来瞪去，我不理她。她开始咕咕哝哝讲这座大楼的奇闻轶事。什么有一天天黑了，她去库房找东西，一进门有人爬到桌下藏了。一男一女，女的是办公室的小李子，刚来不久；男的你猜是谁？所长……刘科长、李秘书，都是些热情人儿。现在嘛，又不是被工作任务压得喘不过气来，又不是战争年代，都想过来了。不过关键时候要清醒！原则不能丢！大的方面要搞明白……领导也不止一次这样说了。所长啊，心慈面软，就是这方面随便一些，手头也大方。听说小李来大楼上班，头一个月就被叫去谈话了。她一开始不从，在屋里跑，跑到门前开不开门……还有小栾，所长说：你当我的秘书吧！当不好也不用怕，反正一回生两回熟……小瓷就不像小李，小栾大方，想得开。她心疼老所长，人家说天冷了，开会时她当着大伙的面就给他披一件厚衣服，他连忙说：谢谢！ ...