Chapter 13 03

The illnesses of the father and the mentor were probably the same at the beginning: heartache.I remember that when my father just came back from Nanshan, he was escorted to work in a small village: digging, digging... All the dirty work was done by him: once he was asked to dig a dry well, and the well collapsed. He was nearly buried alive in it.I was doing work, and I didn't necessarily have a "heartache" at any time. The pain was so painful that I rolled all over the floor, and beads of sweat rolled down my face.He yelled, looked for the ridge everywhere, and pressed his stomach firmly... I looked at it and saw the people next to me laughing, so I thought it might not matter.They said: The pain will pass in a while, don't worry.I just waited with them for the pain to pass.He is my father, and I saw him stick ten fingers into the soil.I wait.I don't know how long it will take like this, one hour, two hours, anyway, it won't be shorter, and my father's hand is slowly withdrawn from the soil.He started to squirm, trying to get up.I don't remember going to give him a hand.His body was covered with mud, and the dust on his face made him so dirty and ugly that I dared not look at him.His face was sallow and sallow, he hardly looked at anyone, and as soon as he stood up he stooped for the shovel.He resumed his silent work.

We all know that he has the problem of "heart pain", as if this is a matter of course.No one but my mother thought of sending him to a doctor... To this day, whenever I think of my father, I think of "heartache" and seeing him rolling across a field. That autumn seemed to come to an end in just a flash. The large leaves were swept into the valley by the cold wind, and then came the frost.A lonely and helpless person hugs his thin clothes tightly, standing on the cliff and watching the morning frost, the feeling will never be forgotten in his life. I can still remember that the sun rose little by little that day, and the mountain was not warm; the sun first illuminated a sweet potato field below the mountain: the leaves that were green not long ago were washed black by an early heavy frost.Looking at it, I suddenly felt uncomfortable in my chest, but I couldn’t tell if it was pain or something——I couldn’t stand still because of this sudden feeling. For some reason, I just wanted to run towards the north...I really ran Woke up early in the morning with an empty stomach, sucking the cold wind, as if being pulled and pushed by something, just kept going north, north, thorns pierced the ankle, and the blood flowed frost without hesitation Sleep.

North, that's the direction of the sea, that's the direction of the plain; there is a jungle there, and there is a small hut in the jungle-I was flying towards it as if I was running. My face was washed numb in the morning breeze, and my lips were like ice, I didn't dare to lick them.I can't run hundreds of miles in one breath, but the strange thing is that I don't even think about where to stop, I just want to go north, there is something worrying about the north, I can't tell what it is... I don’t know how long I ran, but on a dark night in that autumn, I threw myself into the hut... My father, who was in a lot of trouble, was gone—he committed a "heart attack" in the early morning of the general frost. It hurts" . . . roll, roll, roll, as usual, until dawn.He left this world just as the sun was rising.

How many twists and turns he has gone through in the world, there are endless twists and turns, and there is no end to all the difficulties-but he has gone through all of them early in the morning.This world has been lingering with him for a long time. It is really inseparable, intertwined with blood and tears.He finally broke up with her early in the morning. What a mysterious and inexplicable "separation".It's hard for me to fully understand this "separation", but I can feel that it condenses decades of time in an instant: and because of this condensation, it becomes harder.

In order to comprehend it, I thought about my father back and forth: in the hut, beside my mother, after returning to the mountains... thinking and thinking, I can't do without him rolling on the ground and pressing his belly tightly against the ground. scene.I suddenly felt shocked-what did I think of?I thought of his posture, just wanting to blend my body with the soil—he was pressing his whole body hot and tight again; inserting his fingers in, it was to grasp tightly, just like grasping the lapel of a mother’s clothes ...He finally dissolved into the land like this, and could never be separated from it.

I thought hard about my father.Skipping over every detail, to put it simply, he is a poor boy in the mountains, who was able to get out of the mountains because he kept up with a big bureaucratic capitalist—his uncle and grandfather.From then on, he completely changed his destiny.How conveniently and naturally he had found a fortune.How many people in the world are shameless, act like dogs, and crawl on the ground just to find such a lucky one.But after his father grew up, he began to slowly draw closer to his own blood. This process was simply done by instinct.He probably remembered whose son he was—the son of the big mountain, the son of the poor mountain people.So his life began to take hold.

It turns out that the most important thing for a person is to first understand whose son he is. Is it easy?not at all.This is the most basic, but no matter in the past or now, people often lack the courage to face this basic problem.People are unwilling to confirm themselves by blood, and always forget whose son they are first. Father soon left that great uncle and grandpa. Not only that, when his father's comrades later decided to execute the uncle and grandfather who had raised his father, he did not rely on his own influence to change this decision.The whole reason is simple: Uncle Grandpa is the sworn enemy of his faith.

The man was brutally executed.But the gods love and forgive a man of fervent faith, for his purity. He was tortured for the rest of his life, when he rolled on the ground and stuck his fingers deep into the soil, what he had was the passion...Poverty, humiliation, unbearable torture, and great pain can't change that passion , isn't it a miracle? have no idea.All I know is that I will love my father well from now on, although it's a bit too late. Recalling the death of the mentor, it was just a summary given to him as a living person.The reverence and sense of holiness that arise from the depths of my body and mind are not because of his profound professional attainments, unparalleled achievements, or everything else, but just—he always remembers whose son he is— —He kept in mind his mission as a son.

I will love my mentor well from now on. Ever since I learned that people can be divided into two categories, "dirty" and "pure", my heart has become clear.Since then I have rarely been wrong in my judgment.Of course, other criteria can be used, but I find that it will keep me in a state of contradiction and confusion for a long time.As long as a person is pure, he may be capable of anything, at least he will not bully, betray, or betray his mother. Loving one's mother is an important criterion, and one cannot be a clean person without loving one's mother. A man who has hurt and insulted his mother, no matter what clothes he wears and what beautiful words he speaks, still needs to be rejected.He must be the sworn enemy of good.

This principle has been verified time and again in life. I hate those people who insulted my mother.I'm just here to convey my vigilance again. "Porcelain eyes" are often surrounded by similar filth.He wanted to flood the 03 Institute with dirty water.Without exception, the characters he respects and instigates are all profiteers, real snobs and scum.Among them, there was one who was most willing to work hard, a man nicknamed "Gan'er", who once wanted to inherit the legacy of "Porcelain Eyes". "Porcelain Eyes" often reprimanded him a few words to express the uncontrollable joy in his heart.In his opinion, this "liver" is really the best candidate. The mobilization, promotion and reuse of "Ganer" are all handled by "Porcelain Eyes".Not long ago, "Gan'er" was still doing logistics work in a field base, and was a worker in an old-fashioned slaughterhouse. A relative of "Gan'er" was the head of a certain department, so he recommended him to "Porcelain Eye". "Porcelain Eyes" was a little embarrassed, saying that the ○3 Institute is a famous scientific research department anyway, and it's a bit difficult to transfer - it must have papers and books, at least... not long after that contact, "Gan'er" miraculously Papers are published, and one after another...

In this way, an important person was added to the ○3 Institute, called "Gan'er". "Gan'er" first served as the person in charge of administration, and soon won a senior title.Most people don't know much about this person's history, and only a few people who deal with personnel affairs know a little about the ins and outs.This person is absolutely unrefined, like a wolf that came out of the wild, and it looks too discordant in the whole building.He almost became the bodyguard of "Porcelain Eyes", surrounded by a group of unidentified people all day long, driving around on motorcycles and limousines.只要是反对过"瓷眼"的人，家里总要出一点事儿，不是爱人孩子在路上被人揍了，就是宿舍玻璃被人砸了。 "Gan'er" has contacts with the most famous underworld figures in the city.That time when I was attacked at the entrance of the corridor, a group of people in the institute were privately messaged, and the files were secretly searched. "Gan'er" were all important participants. It's his papers that people wonder about.It was only later that rumors spread that all the papers were done by someone, and he was only responsible for paying the money.The knife catcher thought he was short of money, and had a quarrel at the banquet, which spread the word. Now he doesn't have to pay. ○The three institutes may have many "cooperators". Some people saw "Gan'er"'s mother come from a distant country to ask her son for money—the son already lives in a beautiful apartment house with a green anti-theft door installed on the door.But she couldn't open the door no matter what.She stood by the door and sat there without moving.After a long time, the people in the house couldn't stand it any longer. When they opened the door, the old man hugged his son's arm and shouted: "My dear, I hope you come out. Mom is sitting on the cold corridor." For a long time..." "What are you doing here? There is no place to live in this crowded place? I want money for you, take it and go!" "Gan'er" took out 10 yuan and gave it to the old man, without looking back building.The old man was still sitting in front of the closed door, looking eagerly at the anti-theft door, she hoped that someone would come out again... There was no one in the room, she cried. She didn't know that her son had already lived in a guest house outside, and he would not be coming back in a short time... Her crying alarmed the neighbors, who took her home; when they found out who she was, they were all scared No squeak.They boiled hot soup for her, prepared food for her, and hurriedly found a car to send it to the station—they told her repeatedly when they parted: "Ma'am, have a good journey. The day I saw your son, don't say who it is." sent you..." They told me: the old man dressed up in the mountains, and was too honest to say a word for a long time; On the elbow hangs a patched bundle.She said to her neighbors: "I was able to do work a few years ago, and it didn't cost me a penny; when my baby was in the pig slaughterhouse, he even took twenty yuan from the house; at that time his father was still alive... … He came in and asked for money, dropped a piece of fat and left...his father died and he didn't come back, what a traitor..." the old man cried and cursed. He insulted his mother. How could such a person not be an enemy of good?If it is the enemy of good, how can it not be our enemy?If we tolerate such ugly people, what else can we not tolerate? Master Hu, you still have unspeakable regret for me leaving XX Institute.I understand your good intentions.You hope that your students will be able to love their careers and live up to the years of cultivation; also, 03 is 03 after all, I am too lucky to be able to work here... But think about it: when there is such a day, even A butcher and gangster have become experts; when our best have also been driven terminally ill and the building is eerily silent, isn't it the only option for me to leave it? How can there be learning in this building without mentors and justice? That's how I decided to leave.I want to proudly declare to my friends and to the world that true knowledge, like truth, has no formal center.Its center exists only in the human mind, and only the mind is its abode.As long as I have such a heart, then I will not lose the "center" when I travel all over the world and go to the wilderness where there are few people.I despise that majestic building and the "center" marked by it. Only when I leave the filth can I enter the cleanliness.Master Hu, you should be happy for me.You might as well worry about my depravity that I am alone and helpless. What I'm afraid of isn't the conspiracy of underworld evil, I'm just disgusted.Disgust is different from fear.It was deep disgust that made me leave.I will accumulate strength, especially the power of understanding, in this kind of review and self-defense.I am not retreating, but advancing.In this grim time of the world, I never believe in retreat.More than once I have seen the retreaters end up being hideous whores again.Therefore, I ask the teacher not to classify me as a group of "retreaters". One of the meanings you have expressed many times is to let me detach or surpass the struggle of 03 Institute; you also asked heuristically: If your mentor is really as good as you say, why are there still so many people who maintain "porcelain eyes" "?Don't be blindsided, wait a minute. After I have described it at length, I think there is probably no further explanation to be needed. But I still can't help it, I can't bear to let my mentor suffer from the slightest misunderstanding, and I can't bear to let my old master Hu walk into the slightest misunderstanding. Needless to say, these opinions of yours come from several other disciples and friends of yours.Now I want to tell you bluntly again: they are all villains with bad conduct and filthy people.If you want to be a detached person at this time, it is better to say that you want to be a living person.I have observed that those seemingly detached guys are actually on the side of the evil forces almost without exception at critical moments. I also often hear people advocating the so-called "great compassion", but unfortunately I don't know anything about what "great compassion" is. "Great Compassion" is not a synonym for collusion, not a secret flattery to the ugly, nor a whispered sympathy for persecution; "Great Compassion" is just a specific combination of the present world, especially from a sober warrior, from the face of life. Justice and determination come from a courage to go forward - such a long and uninterrupted process can finally create a "great compassion" and finally lead to that "great compassion". "Big" is not without a reason, "big" is grown by hard sweat and red blood. "Greatness" is not the result of enjoyment, not because of waiting for other people's offerings, it needs a person to risk his life to find and pursue... My old Master Hu! My mentor cannot be summed up in a simple word "good".He was a martyr who had died for the truth... He is silent and humming in this era, thinking of his deceased teacher and the years like water.I can still remember hearing every single story he told when we shared a tent in the wild.At that time he was still young, as lush and lush as thatch.At that time, he set foot on the mountains and wilds, obsessed with his career to the point of obsession, and burst out countless brilliant fantasies, and regarded everything in the future as growing, brand new, about to bear fruit, and bright and brilliant.He was in love then, with an even more radical admirer of genius than himself.Later they got married, and later they had their own children and family; after more than ten years, they lived separately.He still trudged as before, and she didn't have the strength to keep up.She's tired of it.So he was almost alone all the time, only following his passionate ideals. He is a first-rate scholar, and he is an idealist, and he never relaxes in his life.Those unbearable tortures were all ground by his firm will.He is a professional genius, which has been best annotated and proved by his shining works; but he has not just shrunk into a professional shell. In this way, he walked to the plateau of faith, facing the cold wind blowing on his face alone. He is able to be clean all his life, rejecting filth to the last moment.His life was so complete that almost nothing was missing. Different from those of your "ear eaters", he never publicly taught and advocated "forgiveness" and "tolerance" for me, and did not ask me to be such a "good old man" and "gentleman".He knew that "forgiveness" and "forgiveness" were the most shouted words these days, and such things were very cheap.Whoever is timid and guilty will first think of wrapping himself in "forgiveness and generosity" colored paper, ready to join hands with evil deeds anytime and anywhere.In fact they have already done that.When one day there is no need to hide anymore, they will be naked.In an era that requires harshness, justice, stance and courage, some people repeatedly advocate "understanding" and "tolerance", which makes people extra vigilant—they are most likely to have malicious intentions.What happened to my mentor, and especially all that happened to him in the last years of his life, speaks for itself.Who is "tolerant" to him?My mentor was right, this is a time for resolution, not a time for "forgiveness".His silence has actually drawn a clear line with those guys who must say "tolerant". Those who are incapable of implementing principles and keeping their duties—not to mention those despicable people who are unbearable—have a good sense of smell to avoid danger in time.They were told at about the same time that it was dangerous to be near my mentor.In a time when injustice and treachery were not punished, but were openly encouraged, it was hardly surprising that they did so.They used to be close to my mentor because of their simple feelings—respect and longing for genius;Now it is different, the whole building is filled with the same smell, someone has fully fortified and fortified, not leaving a corridor or a window for the intermediate elements, simply forcing them to belong quickly. So they just walked away from my mentor and slipped away as a matter of course. This is not the mentor's misfortune. There are not as many people as you might think who are actually cleaning anywhere.Those who slipped away were once lucky: they were able to be with a genius and a person of high moral character, not just born in the same era; land, fled like a calamity.This shows that they are really unfortunate, and they are born with no blessings; this is also somewhat sympathetic and deplorable. I fell into a long period of mourning after the death of my teacher, and could not bring myself to think of other problems for many days.As I walked out of the hospital, from the crematorium, I came back to the simple fact that he was no more; I could no longer hear his voice, see his smile.I'm just lucky enough to have collected those dark notebooks - that recorded his tireless groaning all his life.I believe he would have died mad if he had not had such a self-confession all his life, especially after his unfortunate middle age.Touching the teacher's relics, I thought about the entire academic world and its long and short history.I finally understood and determined that in the past few decades, we have not had anyone like my mentor here.That is to say, he is an outstanding person who has only appeared in decades. Whether it is character or talent, he is unattainable... I feel lucky for myself, because I did not lose the opportunity and found enough happiness to enjoy a lifetime.And I felt an unspeakable hatred for those who did him harm. I lament for those who have left him: they have missed the spiritual connection with such a mentor. I thought of my mentor and the mentor I met when I was wandering in the mountains. His slender figure with a suitcase on his back is hard to lose sight of.I think they are like a pair of brothers, with similar fates and experiences.So I was shocked by another "similarity". Like my mentor, my mentor in Dashan was also obsessed with singing; in the second half of his life, he was alone, with no family members to follow.He has lost company in his personal life, not just spiritually.This fact left me chewing cold as ice.Evidently they had traveled too far, from the city to the wilderness, from triumph to frustration, from youth to feebleness;This lack of companionship is yet another reason for their early downfall. I imagined: it would be much better if they had a woman to accompany and comfort them in their final years.Who listens to their whispers in the long lonely night?Who shared their sorrow and anger at that moment?Whose palm touched their withered hair, served a bowl of hot porridge on a cold night?No.They have to face themselves and watch over themselves. I remember reading a book written by a revolutionary when I was young, and it was basically an autobiographical novel.The protagonist's sincerity, revolutionary enthusiasm, and fervor of faith have still moved me.I still want to re-read that book today, but can't find it. Because at this moment it is fashionable to laugh at ideals, a book like that is a pain to find... I remember the hero with his lover - as if she were an uneducated dishwashing woman(?) - During the conversation, he held her hand tightly with both hands, expressing the following meaning: I want you to learn culture; I want to turn you into a person dedicated to the best cause and ideal; If my lover becomes such a person, then I myself will be too incompetent, too pitiful... roughly what it means.How moved I was when I read it!I almost burst into tears.Holding the novel in my hands, I am almost planning the future; I will have a female companion, a lover in the future, and I will face her, hold her hand tightly, and make this great wish-this must be easy to do! Time flies by.I finally understood in reality how difficult it is to change a person, to influence her or him, even a little bit.Just because this is something that flows in the blood and is composed of molecular factors, it would be an exaggeration to say that it will be changed. Like my two teachers, with their great personalities, the power of thought, their achievements in their careers and their extraordinary talents, they failed to change their partners, and even failed to make them walk together at least on the surface... This is really cruel Reality. I seem to have seen such a picture: a person and a group of people walking forward, they merged into one at first, and their steps were relatively consistent.They were walking towards a distant place, so when they continued to move forward, some people in the crowd looked back frequently, watching the smoke from the old place; and then some of them stopped in their tracks.Keep going, people stop and return.Later, there were only three or five people left; in the end, there were only one or two left, maybe only his lover was with him, and she would reach out to support the man from time to time... If he continued to walk, his lover also stopped.He had to call her, one after another, but she still didn't follow.He had to go alone... You think my separation from Bai Hui is inevitable, Mei Zi and I are the same people.And I think they're the same person. They may not be able to accompany me to go forward.This is a reality that I have to face.I also once made the rhetoric of transforming the people closest to me-like a revolutionary, but I had to give up later.On the one hand I found it extremely difficult, on the other hand it was out of respect for people. I couldn't approach forcing her to come to me.No matter how firmly I believe I am on the high road, there is no reason to force others off the small road.I just have a passion for her, a hope, and that's enough. Is Meizi sure in her heart that I am heading for a great road?What if she doesn't think the way of turning away from the world is the way?What if she doesn't understand that this road must go through the secular world? I will never forget the excitement she felt when she came to the vineyard.Only at this moment her eyes were not blinded by anything, she did not lose sight of the compelling beauty here, and that is what delighted me about her.Maybe my mother-like plain will eventually be messed up and riddled with holes, but she will still have a deep beauty that will radiate and impress some people with an extraordinary face.Meizi should be someone who can be moved, and her eyes should be bright and penetrating. Whatever the differences between the two of them, it seems to me that their blood is similar.But they are all worth cherishing.One has given me unforgettable comfort; the other is determined to accompany me for the rest of my life.Although they all stood still at a distance, they only cast concerned eyes. Who is to blame? But their sincere and extraordinary concern is enough for me to appreciate.How many people in the world are worthy of their gaze?That's enough for a man... Of course, I will go further. Can you still see me there?I can no longer go back, and I will go on, towards a poor and steep plateau.There I will meet new brothers. ... Bai Hui's situation is very special, maybe only you can help her, even if it is to comfort her.It must have been difficult for her to face such a life for the first time in her life.She was used to being cared for in the past, she was the dean's daughter; she was admired by so many people, and there were countless overt and secret suitors.She has been under the shadow and care of Bo Lao. She moved to the bachelor dormitory alone, cooked for herself, never went back to Mr. Bai's place, and didn't want to see him—this news shocked me at first, and then I somewhat understood it. She is a woman who is soft on the outside and strong on the inside, but her soft tone and seemingly feminine demeanor have concealed the toughness in her heart for a long time.Such a person may be more likely to go decisive at a critical moment. I believe she did this firstly because she was disappointed with Bai Lao, and then she was disappointed with the violinist.The violinist is absolutely obedient to Bai Lao, a behemoth, and this obedience is tied to his deep secular roots.So when the wife left his father, the violinist was able to keep in touch with him. Before that, we carefully avoided her father and never talked to her about some details about Bo Lao.Because I can't bear it.She left Bailao's completely based on her own kindness, and now it seems that there is no turning back.From then on, she will go to loneliness and poverty, which she knows very well.I began to have unprecedented respect for her.In such an era of muddling along and pursuing real material benefits, she turned to the other end.How strong it takes. I am ambivalent about her choice.I am afraid that she will not be able to bear it, but I also hope that she can have another life - a life far away from Bo Lao.So for the first time, I told her heartily what I knew about Bai Lao in the midst of mixed emotions of contradiction, pain and joy. Is this to make her forgive me?A little bit, but only a little bit.I was dealing with a far more solemn emotional world.I think, let us all have the courage to face the truth, let me tell her where I have come from and where I am going-I will regret every time I live in the future, and I will definitely No compromise, no forgetting - my loves and hates are pretty solid and real, that's all.I gave solid reasons for what I did that year, and I announced my future to her.I can see the future, and that is the end of tenacious persistence.This ending is not at all mysterious to me.With this ending I distinguish myself from my surroundings, from my time. What is valuable about Bai Hui lies in her ability to silently collect perceptions, which gradually accumulate and finally reach an irreversible moment; she takes action resolutely. Her approach is the same as that of many good people: try to be alone first-because this is a necessary step in cleaning yourself, although it does not seem difficult to do. The path she chooses may lead to the avenue, but it is too bitter and difficult for a woman. ... I have expressed my views openly, sometimes violently.When I was at the ○3 Institute, I also had such conversations with those who I trusted.I'm tired of that kind of euphemism, roundabout expressions.Because that would be labor-intensive, and it would encourage the twists and turns of this deformed world; directness and simplicity are a kind of simplicity, a necessity for the pursuit of truth.It's a pity that the reality requires just the opposite. It always makes people detour on various occasions and wastes precious time in vain. You said: ○Many people in the third institute think that I am already very immodest, but I was not like this in the past. You pointed out this danger to me again and again until you didn't bother to talk about it.I think this is not only the opinion of others, but also one of the reasons for your unhappiness. I can't agree more with you.That's cheating on you.I think deceit is an evil, and pride is at best ignorance.I will probably always be a stubborn student - please accept my apologies if this stubbornness offends you.But I will never apologize to those who want me to be "humble". For those people, I should be more proud. How strange things are in the world!Some people hope that others will repeatedly express their humility, but never ask themselves what noble virtues and superhuman talents they have.They didn't teach me hard and love me sincerely like you, but they just waited for me to call them "teacher" - I was a young man who just arrived at that time, and I took my expectations as reality and really called them "teacher".Some of them are very old. I think the years have given them knowledge. They should be elders, elder brothers, and "teachers". But as time went by, I found that the title "teacher" was not just called casually.I just didn't change this title easily, but I already had reservations in my heart.The frightening thing is that the other side puts forward more and more excessive demands, more and more increases the inexplicable sense of superiority that is in no way commensurate with their character and talent, and they must make others respectful... They have done too much.Facing the absurdity of the "porcelain eyes" and even the atrocities, how submissive they are.He was originally a follower and a coward, but he was anxious to gain the respect of others.I gradually discovered that my kindness and good intentions were being used and trampled upon.How many people have I called "teacher"!What else do they want?I almost called a rabbit a "teacher", what else do they want? ! I understand more and more that in the face of this turbid mass, all I need is a timely sip.Because it's a little deceptive.They don't expect any more humility from me. This is an era that needs to learn to be proud as soon as possible. In front of a mentor who has dedicated his whole life to his ardent ideals and his own career, I feel how sacred the word "teacher" is! My mentor vomited blood and died in my arms; at this moment, where are those guys who call themselves "teachers"?They were in a corner, huddled shamelessly into a ball without making a sound in fright.Later, after a long time, they came out from the corner, but they still had lingering fears, and when they saw "Porcelain Eyes", they were all smiles.This is them. I am proud that I was able to be with the mentor at the last moment.I am proud, I will bid farewell to a group of "teachers".Let the curse stay behind, I took my backpack and walked towards the mountains. There are so many rabbits in the mountains, they are hopping around in the grass looking for food.Only then did I feel that out of anger and grievance, I should not compare some people with no principles, no character, and low qualifications to rabbits.Their image is lovely, they are far holier than they are.Forgive me, rabbit in the mountains! You have a student from ○3 who came a few years earlier than me, and once asked for the title of "teacher" in person.He asked with a stern face: "You called me teacher when you first came here, why didn't you call me teacher in the past two years? I don't like that name, I mean..." I was stunned for a moment, and I said that although I used to have The bad habit of calling "teacher" randomly, but I don't remember ever calling you "teacher"-if I did, I will quit this bad habit from now on. He blushed and walked away without saying a word. When I am alone, I often fall into deep distress.I walked into my own world, which was lonely and cold, the last corner I avoided.The population of this world was found from the huts in the wilderness of childhood... ... Our hut has been haunted by terror since my father's return.When the dog barks in the middle of the night, someone must be staring at the hut.I tiptoed out once, only to see cigarette butts flickering in the dark.Daqing was so frightened that he didn't say a word—it mustered up the courage to make a report just now, and now it was lying there, holding its breath.I think it is like me, with a heart beating wildly... Not necessarily when a man with a gun kicks at the door, they shout, wolf-like eyes flash across the face, like a thorn It hurts just as much. Grandmother is always in front, and she unconsciously protects the whole family with her body.Those fierce guys stretched out their arms and pushed, and the grandmother's short and thin body was pushed and staggered.I clenched my fist and my mother pulled me back.She called them one after another, trying to appease the other party's anger.They kept asking: Who is here?Have you been far?What are you doing these days?母亲一一代答，他们说不行。他要父亲亲自来答。父亲正病着，这时弯着身子过来，艰难地答了。他的额头不止一次被他们点来点去。 来人每一次都带着生锈的、卸下来的枪刺。 我们在夜晚没有了一点声音。全家的呼吸都轻轻的。风在丛林中穿过，它拨动的每一片树叶的响声都听得清清楚楚。 一只柳莺在枝桠上弄出细小的响动，接着是一滴露珠跌落下来。小得像刺猬一样的四蹄动物一溜烟地从窗下跑过，它那急促而收敛的脚步让人分外悲凉。 我睡不着，又不敢用力翻身。我只好听着夜声、听着全家人的呼吸。父亲咳了一声，他的胆子多大……在这一个月里，他已经被十几次押走。有时他一连几天不回，母亲出去找他，回来时领着个血迹斑斑的人……多么深重的罪孽，无法探究无法思索的罪孽。 在这样的日子里，我有时一连几天说不出几句话。在学校，我不敢正视同学和老师的目光。我回避一切询问的、敌视的、嘲弄的、不解的……花花色色的目光。我只希望黑夜快快来临，那样我可以沉浸在想象的、一个人的世界里。 当老爷爷默默出逃，死在荒路上之后，真正的灾难降临了。我们家再也没有了一位老爷爷的照料和恩护，没有了他熟悉的脚步声、他呼唤我们吃饭的声音、他与大青对话的声音，这儿成了死寂的世界。茅屋空旷了许多，也冷清了许多，好像随时都有被什么给碾碎的危难。大青真的哭了：我有一次蹲在院里，听到身后有什么哼了一声，一回头，见它卧在那儿，垂着头，眼里闪着泪花……我捧起它的脸，泪水哗哗落下。 白天，只要父亲一回来，我就跑到了丛林中，爬到一个茂密的枝桠上，让身体隐在其间。我害怕、自卑、羞愧、梦想，更多的还是渴望……渴望像别人一样无拘无束地谈吐，畅声大笑或交谈……我整整好几个月没有连贯地、大声地说过话了。自从老爷爷逝去之后，我就没有好好说过什么——我甚至没有说话。我大约只用点头、用眼神表达着意思。好像家里人大抵都是这样。 我可以一整天盯着大树上的裂纹、地上的小甲虫、飘落的叶子。我心里这时涌起了滔滔话语，叙说不停，一直到口干舌燥才怏怏回返。这时天就要黑了，林子里的老野鸡不停地啼叫。我小心地走出丛林，走回我们的茅屋——那个小小的、屋顶像铅一样黑的茅屋，这时被暮霭压得喘不过气来，它悄无声息……我每一次跨进小院都有点战战兢兢……