Chapter 5 spring

"See clearly." The young man stared at it for a long time, then suddenly covered his protruding mouth and ran away with a bow.I even saw tears dripping obliquely to the ground.The guard raised his eyebrows and looked at me with wide eyes. He had already said not to look at me, there was nothing to see.He pulled the shroud so that she was only a silhouette. I walked all the way outside the funeral home.The young man crouched by the side of the road and had already vomited cleanly, but his fingers were still on the ground and his arms were shaking.I patted him, and he turned his head, tears gushing out like blood from a wound.I totally understand the pain. "Don't be sad, you've come to see her after all," I said.

He moved his mouth. I helped him walk slowly.He looked back at the funeral home. "I'll take you to rinse your mouth," I said, "just to rinse your mouth." When we came to the canteen, I asked him to throw himself on the counter and bought a bottle of mineral water.I said, "Come on, let's go out and wash our mouths." But he seemed to be asleep.I pulled hard, and he reacted and walked out.His gargling movements were very mechanical, as if an old man was chewing something.A dusty Santana was driving past us, swerved and nearly scraped us. It stopped at the gate of the funeral home.

A man in his forties got out of the cab and hurried into the hall.He was wearing a yellow jacket and baggy jeans for fat people, and he had a bunch of keys dangling from the back of his hip.Soon, a short woman emerged from the back seat.She was wearing a black dress, black trousers, black flat shoes, and a piece of black gauze was pinned to her right arm and held in her hand.She was carrying a black bag, chasing the man in front like a duck. "Let's go in," said the young man until dusk approached.I feel like for a long time he didn't know what was going on in the world, that a girl died, or why he came here.But he finally came to his senses and cried again.I helped him into the hall.The temperature is so low now, the hall is shady, and the guards drag the concrete floor."I don't understand," he said to us.

"You worked hard." I said. The guard dragged back and forth in a clean area for a while, and motioned us to sit on the east row of chairs.That way I could see the man and woman sitting to the west.Unlike our side—the young man was raving against me—they sat apart, two seats apart, arguing incessantly.They quarreled more and more, their voices buzzing and floating, making everyone dizzy. "What's the noise?" The guard slammed the mop heavily on the ground.The man looked up, and the woman took out her handkerchief and sobbed.Sometimes when she cried happily, she stopped and calmly blew her nose with her index finger and thumb.The guard bowed and continued mopping the floor.I think it was an excess of boredom that broke him down and made him treat the floor like a piece of art that he wiped over and over again.

I saw the man wearing a dark red T-shirt and a gold ring on his hand.He rubbed his hair for a while, and scratched it for a while.He pinned the black gauze on the empty chair to his arm, turned his head and said to the woman, "I'm wearing it, and I know this is not only your daughter, but also my daughter." Then he looked at his watch and asked: " How long will it take?" The guard continued mopping the floor. "Are you in such a hurry?" the woman said.The man stared at her with a fierce look in his eyes, if it wasn't here, I would have beaten you to death.But after a while of silence passed, the man's eyes turned red, and snot dripped from his nose.

"I only have one daughter, you." He cried out sobbingly, took out the cigarette case from his pocket, shook out the cigarette and put it to his mouth.He took out the lighter again and lit it.He coughed and smoked.Tears dripped on the cigarette. "Please put out your cigarette," said the guard. "Where is it?" The man looked at the ground, the seats, and the cabinets with various urns.The guard continued to mop the floor, and it seemed to be finishing.The man tilted his head, looked at him sullenly, and took a very hard breath. "I told you, smoking is not allowed in public places." Even the young man in my arms was frightened by the roar.The guard walked over aggressively.

"If you don't allow it, don't allow it. Can't you be more polite?" "Don't you understand that smoking is not allowed in public places?" "Can't you be more polite? Have I offended you?" "You are not guilty." The guard walked up to him and continued, "You have not offended me. If you want to smoke, please go out and smoke." The man rubbed his eye sockets, and the other hand was still holding the cigarette. The ash was so long that it fell to the ground soon .The guard's eyes fell to the ground. "I just smoked, how are you?" the man said.

"How about it?" Even the guard probably didn't expect that he slapped the man.Now that it was lively, the man stood up and picked up the skinny guard, "Do you know that my only daughter is burned here, and I only have such a daughter. She was burned, do you know?" He Slamming the guard's face, "Do you know?" The guard yelled.The man looked around, threw him down, kicked him, "Fuck you." Then the man took off the keychain and strode out the door.First I heard Santana chirp, then the doors slammed shut, the engine started, and then the tires rubbed against the ground sharply as the car turned.He escaped.

The woman sat shaking.When the guard got up, she said, "I have nothing to do with him, he is no longer my husband." The guard stared at her, and she shrank back.Then, a worker in white flame-retardant overalls came with a shovel.She repeated that sentence again.The shovel was smoking. It can be imagined that it must have been burnt red when it was first taken out, but now it is dusty.I remember a drop of goo dripping from the shovel, the way plastic drips when it is burned.Then the woman said another sentence, and it was this sentence that awakened the young man.He stood up straight, clenched his fists repeatedly, and walked towards the cremation room at the back of the hall.Before I arrived, he knelt down on the ground, spread his hands, and started talking nonsense.I think he was begging not to burn a dead girl to nothing, and even though it was inevitable, I hoped that she wouldn't just be burned all at once.

His face looked like someone was splashing water in a basin.I'm about to fucking cry too.The woman—that is, the mother of the deceased said: "Spring, your father made you do this." She kept muttering: "Every time I come to wipe my ass. Not once. What have you been responsible for this daughter? Where have you been responsible? You counted on me, you know that I am soft-hearted, and you know that Spring is left alone by the side of the road, and I will definitely go and bring her back. You are so cruel. But Spring is not my life alone. Don’t you take any responsibility as a father? Why every time Did I come to wipe your ass? Am I born to be your servant?"

After the guards and workers ran to the leader's office, the mother, who looked like a black duck in a black dress, black trousers, black leather shoes and black gauze, walked out falteringly but with determination in her heart, following in her ex-husband's footsteps.As she walked, she said, "I won't come back no matter what. I've had enough. I've had enough. I've decided. If you don't come back, I won't come back. If you think I'm coming back, I won't come back. Let me see who it is. Come back and see who is more ruthless. You can do what she wants, and I can do what she wants, and I will see who comes back." He took out a letter of introduction worth less than thirty cents.It seems that the format was originally intended for detention centers, but it has been rewritten as a funeral parlor.When filling in the reason for visiting, the police officer drew a slash.It is best to write specific content here, such as "assisting in investigations and interviews", he looked embarrassed. "That's enough," said the inspector. "We haven't had a letter of introduction like this here." It took him two days to settle the matter.Call the reporters of your own newspaper and ask them to help contact the political and legal reporters in this city, and then the latter will contact the acquaintances of the Public Security Bureau here.One ring is more distant than the other.He got a promise from the reporter here, saying that it would be right away, but he waited from morning to afternoon.Eventually he broke into the newspaper, calling out the reporter's name. "Don't you see I'm busy?" the other said. "I'm just in a hurry to check it out, brother." He became more relaxed as he spoke, "She is my girlfriend, my woman." "Look, the sub-bureau is about to leave work." While waiting, he thought: It's impossible, so he poured gasoline on the abandoned hearse in the corner of the parking lot, and the only tire was flat anyway.The interior was rusty and crammed with damp wood.Set the sticks on fire, let them smoke, and sneak into the funeral home as they get out.This approach is not wise.It's better to hold a wooden stick and knock them down one by one. When he walked into the funeral home for the first time, the guard stopped him, "What did you do?" He saw his shoes leaving marks on the ground he had just mopped. "What do you want?" said the guard. "I came to see my woman, and she died." "How many days has it been shipped?" "It should be seven or eight days." "Have you brought your account book?" "No." "What about the marriage certificate?" "We're not married." "Then what evidence do you have to prove that you are her man?" "I am her man." "Then so am I." The guard went on to say, "You must have a proof." "Why am I lying to you? I haven't even looked at her yet." "Everyone says that, they say they are relatives and friends of the deceased. But don't you think the funeral home is also a unit? You can come and go whenever you want, shouldn't you tell it some rules?" "Look, there's no one here." "This is the rule." "Please do me a favor." "Why should I be good? I work here, and that's what I do. I have to keep the dead from being disturbed." "She's really my woman." "There's no one who doesn't say that." Do you know that the only thing I love in this world is her, and if I can't see her, I can't live.I can't live, and neither can you.He took out two bills from his wallet one after another, and looked at the guard mournfully, but the guard put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked away without looking back.Later, the guard came back with a mop and dragged it around under the young man's feet. "I don't have time to play with you," said the guard. "I'm a reporter." He thought for a long time before saying, "I have the right to investigate her death." "Didn't you just say you were her man?" "I'm a reporter, and I'm also her man." "What about your press card?" "Did not bring." "Go away." He took out this letter of introduction, which was less than thirty cents, and handed it to me, "I don't know if this will work. I came to say goodbye to you, you are a good man." "You have to rest first, you can go to my house to rest." "That's too late." "Then I'll go with you, I'm fine anyway." I have to thank you, but it's better for me to do it alone.How should I express my refusal to you?I have to thank you, you are a good man.He looked troubled. "I'm going to give her a ride after all." I said, then put my arm around his shoulders and walked to the garage.I drove him towards the western suburbs.The afternoon sun hit the car window, and he became confused.He slept very little, and even if he had time to sleep, all kinds of nightmares should be intertwined in his mind.Soon he really woke up and asked, "Where are you?" "It's still early." "I must have slept a long time." Then he stared blankly ahead.Eventually, a large smokestack came into view. "There it is," he said.We drove to the funeral home under the chimney.In front of it is a cracked concrete parking lot and a small flower bed with two rows of plastic flower pots filled with plastic chrysanthemums. The guards wore the uniform of the guard of honor, all in white, including leather shoes and gloves, only the epaulettes and the stripes on the cuffs were red.He flicked the seams of his trousers and watched us approach.The young man took out the Zhonghua cigarettes, and it took a long time before he knew how to break the seal.He wrinkled the filter and said, "Master, smoke a cigarette." The guard raised his hand to his lips and waved it, "No." He really deserves to be damned. "Look." The guard took the letter of introduction, turned his back, and studied it in the sunlight.At this time, the young man clenched his right fist and raised it to his chest, ready to hit the guard on the back of the head.I pulled the corner of his clothes, but it made him even more angry.He waited until the guard waved his hand and said, "You also know that I also act according to the rules. I will do whatever the rules tell me to do." I said yes yes. We follow in.Before entering the door, the guard said: "Wipe clean." We wiped the soles of our shoes back and forth on a red doormat.The young man has always been immersed in the courage he bestowed by himself, but as soon as he entered this huge and quiet hall, he became weak, and many beads of sweat oozed from his pale face. The guard led us across the hall to the leader's office.A man wearing glasses was reading a newspaper. When the letter of introduction was handed over, he signed it without looking at it.Then we went back to the hall and went out through the small door on the northwest side.At the end of the road is the cremation room, where the furnaces are said to glow silver and lined up like bread ovens.The morgue is in the middle of the road leading to the cremation room, and the cold storage is connected to the left. "The refrigeration is broken, and it hasn't been fixed after several repairs. Therefore, no matter what, I have to melt her today. Alas, I may have to cut up the body at that time, otherwise it will explode." The guard said. The young man stopped there and couldn't move. "You have to see it?" said the guard. The young man panted and took several deep breaths before moving on.The guard pushed open the frosted glass door, and a strong smell of formalin rushed over.There were a dozen or so iron beds in the room, some of which were covered with shrouds, revealing the outlines of corpses.Moss grew half a foot high in the corner of the wall.Where there are dead bodies, the vegetation is lush, I thought about that.The guard went straight to one of them, picked up the corner of the white cloth like a magician, and said, "Do you really want to see it?" The young man nodded very seriously. The guard slowly lifted the shroud.Oh, it still hurts to think about it now.Lying in spring, the swelling doubled, but the belly was flattened, and there were rough and sloppy stitches exposed from the gap in the jacket; part of the skin was brown and part black, like tofu with mildew spots; only the face was slightly preserved It looks like some shadows of the past, but with big ears and wide cheeks, protruding eyeballs, swollen and turned lips, revealing rock-like teeth.My face is scrunched up, my eyes are painfully closed, and I've already vomited badly over this corpse once.The young man has been standing still.The guard asked him: "did you see it?" "Saw." "See clearly?" "See clearly." I walked into my home in the community.The elevator opened on the fourth floor, and a young man squatted in the opposite corner.He met my gaze and wanted to speak, but stopped himself.I walked over, opened the door of my room, and heard a slight noise, it was him who stood up straight.I turned my head to look.His lips opened again, and he pursed them again, like a tent that had been erected with great difficulty and fell to the ground. "What's the matter?" I said. "Excuse me, is it Mr. Chen?" "I'm not feeling well, so I won't accept interviews from any of you." I closed the door.After a while, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it and shouted, "Enough, my friend, I've said enough." "I was my boyfriend before spring," he said. "what?" "I am the man before spring." "What's your business?" "I want to see if she has left anything here?" He shed a lot of tears uncontrollably.I was waiting for something called a sudden realization, that was this person, that was him.He said: "It's all because of me." But I don't think that's the case. He should have a dangerous face that women admire and a cold and cruel temperament, but both his appearance and demeanor seem too honest.Only a small scar on his forehead seemed to prove that he had a violent experience, and I would rather believe that he was beaten. "Come in." I said. He hastily thanked him, bowed down to untie his shoelaces, but I stopped him.I went to the little bedroom to fetch the relic and found him still at the door. "I came here after reading the news in the newspaper, but I didn't expect her to die," he said. "It has been hyped for a while. It was originally a suicide, not a homicide." "I know." "Spring is not a lady either." "Well, speaking of it, I killed her." "do not do that." I thought I was still kind to others after all, so I took it easy, "I haven't shown it to outsiders, sit down." He bowed and took it.On the title page of that book, there is a line: When he saw this, he dropped his head suddenly, as criminals do in the face of irrefutable evidence.This is his handwriting that day, immature, confident and sloppy, superstitiously believing that the other party is the only one in the impulse of love.Now that he has crossed the river of time, there are a lot of consequences that can be used to verify the original hymns and oaths.As for the diary he is about to open, every page has been crossed with a ballpoint pen, and some have been scratched. We seem to still be able to see the hysterical behavior of the spring.I went to the kitchen to pour water, and the young man kept flipping through his diary, until finally he clutched his head and sobbed.I saw his back tremble slightly, and then his shoulders, arms, and clothes visibly shrugged, as if his whole body had participated in the crying. Spring writes like this: Apart from these, the whole diary is left with the nonsense of a persecuted delusional patient.I tore out the page about me, and she wrote about how I deliberately seduced her-rubbing her when I passed by, hooking her chin with my fingers, fishing my palms for her pussy, and so on.She framed everyone. "Nothing like that," I said. I know, Xiaoli frowned and kept shaking her head, you'd better tear them all up. I took the water and walked back to the living room.The young man raised his head, his eyelashes were wet and said, "I have to go, I have been bothering you for a long time." "fine." "Can I take it?" I nodded, put the tea prepared for him on the coffee table, and let him go out. "If you need help with anything, you can come to me." I said. "Yeah." He replied hastily. I closed the door, went to the window, and waited until he appeared on the ground.He went in the wrong direction, and it took him a long time to come back.He was on his back, hanging his hands, weeping wantonly.Several passers-by stopped to look, and he almost ran into one.I think at this time, even if someone spits on his face, he will not care; even if a knife is stabbed in his chest, he will move forward.He will cry for a long, long time, for sin. After that I was alone again.For a long time, I put the wine between my legs and sat on the sofa in a daze.The morning went, the afternoon came, something gray pressed down from the sky, and it was dark.Then, faint groans came from the small bedroom.Maybe it's just a cold, but Spring is like an experienced old woman, she is silent when the surroundings are silent, and when she hears footsteps, she groans quickly.When we got to the door, the groaning became extremely loud. "What's wrong with you?" We walked in and asked. "I'm going to die, look, there's no blood." She wailed, tears rolling out.Treacherous, Xiaoli looked at me.I nodded and said, "Drink some hot water, I'll pour it right away." Later, when we passed by, she didn't stop, and her humming was in vain.Now that she is dead, I can still hear her moaning as she weaves herself in the room. "Enough!" I was drunk and kicked open the door.There was only a small dark red Simmons.I found the broom and swept it around every corner. I shouted, "Enough is enough, stop fucking!" She stopped humming, but when I lowered my head, she floated in a certain corner.I looked over hastily, and she dispersed silently like fragments blown away in one breath. I called Xiaoli and said, "I've never missed you like this before." But she was still immersed in her sorrow, "Sell the house, I really can't live anymore." "Sell it, sell it after New Year's Day." "Earlier if I can. I've never been so unlucky." "Then are you coming back?" "Not coming back." I kept the lights and TV on all night, looking forward to morning more than ever.During the day, I walked through the streets, imitating, um om, um om, um om.But there is always a gravitational force pulling me back, even if my back is facing the house, I will come back backwards.Um Om, Um Om, Um Om, I imitate, like a donkey forced to come back. "Isn't this coming?" The security guard put his hand over the young man's shoulder, pointed at me and said.The young man turned around and hit me with his eyes like sticks.After a few days, his hair was disheveled, his face was gray, his lips were bloodless, and even his eyebrows were gray.He is like taking drugs all the year round, or staying up all night playing cards continuously. He is extremely tired physically, but extremely excited mentally. "I came here to say goodbye to you." He bowed to me. "Is the matter settled?" "Not yet, I just want to see the spring." "You haven't seen it yet?" He clenched his fists and cursed at the undertaker.Speaking of the anger of this honest man, uh oh, because he didn't practice it, he was extremely vicious on his lips.While flipping through the letter of introduction in his bag, he cursed. The police did not answer and called me into the conference room.Someone drew the curtains, the cameraman carried the machine, and a cable was inserted into the end of the camera, which was connected to the microphone.The TV reporter held up the microphone and recited the opening remarks.Either suicide or homicide.die.That's exactly what it is.thanks for watch.puzzle. "Can I go?" I asked again. "Wait, they might ask you some questions." The policeman's eyes were fixed on the camera. The boatman sat in a corner with his hands on his knees and his eyes fixed on him.I heard the sound of "record first, record first", and the lighting engineer raised the incandescent lamp at the boatman, and the latter's face froze instantly.A TV reporter came and grabbed the boatman's hand and shook it vigorously. "Take it easy," he said, and withdrew his hand.The boatman didn't know whether to close his fingers or continue to separate them, so he let them hang in mid-air.It wasn't until the interview was over that the boatman withdrew his hand and grabbed his clothes. Then the TV reporter started shaking the wires.It's coming to me, I gasp, there's nothing more excruciating than waiting, I've never experienced anything like it.When the TV reporter walked up with the already smooth thread and followed by the incandescent lights, I stood up. He exuded majesty like a general, and his armor clanged. "No need to stand," he said with a smile.So I sat down, how red my face was. "are you ready?" "it is good." "We all know that the deceased lived in your home for some time before his death." "yes." "Who is she to you?" "My wife's former classmate." "Why does she live in your house?" "She's my wife's classmate. Lovely. She's poor. Can't afford a house. Maybe." "What do you think she is?" "Be kind and polite." "Specifically?" "It's very honest." "for example?" "She was kind to everyone." He winked lightly at me.I said, "Oh, I didn't expect her to leave so soon." He commented on the camera, and then turned around and said, "Thank you." He held my hand and it was cold, and I was sweating profusely. "Can I go?" I walked over to the policeman. "Wait, who knows what else is going on." After a while, the forensic doctor opened the door.He tossed the blue folder on the table and pulled on his white gloves.Noisily followed a group of newspaper reporters behind, led by the dwarf in red sweetheart neckline, he nodded to his acquaintance with a half-smile, and then sat across from the forensic doctor with a conceit that was almost tyrannical like a beast. "Do you want to shoot now?" the forensic doctor shouted at the cameraman. "is it okay?" "Yes, what's wrong?" Forensic doctor Zhen Zhenyi sat down, pulled out a photo from the folder, and said, "Look, there is a white fungus-shaped foam under the nose, indicating that he died of drowning. This is the result of cold water entering the respiratory tract and stimulating the formation of the tracheal mucosa." Then he went on. He took out another one, showing that Chunchun was holding mud grass in his hands, "This is also an important feature of drowning. We can at least rule out that she was killed and then thrown into the water. She drowned directly." The chunky reporter raised his hand. "What's the matter?" the TV reporter asked him. "Can I ask questions? I'm afraid it will delay your shooting." "It's okay, people will edit it." The forensic doctor said. "Then I said it. These two photos do not rule out homicide. Drowning does not necessarily mean suicide. Others can push her into the water and kill her." "It's rare." "I've seen in movies that drug lords in the Golden Triangle often push people into rivers and ponds to drown." "That's a movie." "Movies come from life." "Let me ask you, if you were the murderer, would you push an adult into the river?" "What's wrong? No trace will be left." "Have you considered his swimming level, his survival instinct, the depth of the water, the shallowness of the water, and the direction of the water flow? Have you considered all of these? What would you do if he didn't die?" "I will take steps beforehand." "What measure?" "Bind his limbs, or bind something heavy." "Did you see ropes or weights in this case?" "Of course," the reporter untied the camera and called up the photos, "Look, her hands are tied." The forensic doctor waved his hand.The reporter continued: "It's very simple. If I commit suicide, how can I tie my hands?" "It's not uncommon in suicides, you haven't seen it before." The forensic doctor gestured, "You can get help from others, or you can make a noose yourself and tighten the tie with your teeth." After finishing speaking, he sympathetically He looked at the reporter intently, as if he wasn't trying to fight, but the other party was about to take the last step and fell into the trap he had arranged.Sure enough, the reporter said: "You can't rule out the possibility that someone tied her hands and then pushed her into the river." The forensic doctor applauded, and the police brought the boatman over. "Ask him," said the forensic doctor. "Yes, I tied her hands," said the boatman. "what?" "I went to tie her up." "Why did you tie her up?" "We all do it." "You tied the corpse's hands?" "Yes, so we can drag the body ashore." "Can't you get the dead body on board?" "Ominous." The boatman added: "She was already dead when I tied her up, and there were bubbles under her nose." The reporter took a big breath, and her chest swelled up. I really want to kick you to death, you old bastard.The forensic doctor came over with a smile, took out the cigarette, tapped it on the cigarette case, and said, "Writing news is not writing a novel, don't you think so, Xiao He?" The reporter put away the interview book and said, " Am I also here for work?" The cameraman gestures again.The forensic doctor hurriedly took two puffs, extinguished the cigarette, and sat back down again. "I don't know if you know the width of the river." He gestured, "It's only this wide, four to five meters. You swim a few times, let's put it this way, struggle a few times, and you'll reach the other side." "Yeah." The TV reporter said. "It's still hard to kill someone." "Then does this also mean that the difficulty of suicide will increase? It will make the success rate not high?" "No, that's not the case for a suicidal person. Give him a sip of water and he can drown himself. A person who feels too tired for life can stick his face in the toilet and drown himself. Others, just Taking advantage of a heavy rain in the mountains, lying drunk on the trail can also cause water to enter the lungs. All the evidence shows that the person involved in this case is trying to find a way to die. She drank the pesticide first." The forensic doctor pulled out the autopsy report: "We extracted organophosphate preparations from her body. She drank the pesticides on her own. This is the method of suicide she originally wanted to use. If someone else killed her and then poured it in, then because the metabolism stopped, we would not be able to Pesticides were extracted from the liver and other places." The amber wine bottle had no cap and was placed on the chair, and the wine was mixed with dichlorvos, giving off a foul smell.The river water hides pieces of cloth, leftovers, used sanitary napkins, black mud, and dead cats and dogs that are self-dissolving, and it is also very smelly.The river flows very slowly with them, and also deposits them.In spring, I drank four bottles, and the fifth bottle was mixed with pesticides.Sitting on a chair by the side of the road, looking up at the dull night sky, she routinely grabbed the fifth bottle.She took only a sip before bending over to vomit.But she still drank two more gulps, making sure to drink some. "She didn't drink much, not enough to kill her, but her body reacted strongly." She held her head and staggered away.The right leg swings to the right, and after the right leg becomes the supporting leg, the left leg swings to the left.She swayed forward a few steps, then backed away continuously.She half turned around and continued to sway.The head was the source of the shaking, making her body spin in circles.She was nauseous, vomiting, sweating profusely, while circling back and forth.After a while, she felt like entering a world of fog.Street lamps, seats and tree branches become large and small slightly thicker silhouettes.She clutched her head, gasping for air. "Part of her body has been damaged, but not completely. She can't live, she can't die, it's worse than death." She came halfway between life and death, and the world was at the mouth of the well, with a weak light of irony flashing.She didn't have the strength to climb another step.And the ever-dark place at the bottom of the well, waving a provocative handkerchief like a mother.Jump, jump off.She weighed it over and over again: all at once, everything is over, there will be no more physical pain and mental suffering.Also, if you don't make a decision, it will be too late, and you will be like a badly injured wild boar convulsing eternally and horribly in the mud. "So she jumped into the river a few steps away. She stopped caring about the stench of the river. This is common in suicide cases, and many victims end up deviating from the original method of suicide." Spring began to walk.She walked for a long, long time, as if in a nightmare, she couldn't move no matter what.She is agitated, fearful, angry.Finally she could distinguish the soft sound of the river.She walked up the flood wall, wailing, and suddenly fell into the river.When she flew down, everything in the world flashed clearly in front of her eyes like numbers running at high speed.Things that have been covered up have a clue, oh, it is about to suddenly realize the great enlightenment.Then she was swallowed by the river in time.The river water was like ice knives everywhere, piercing her body and slashing back and forth in her mind. "And here," the forensic doctor showed another photo, showing that Chunchun's palm was full of bruises, the skin was torn, and the bones of the index and middle fingers of her right hand were even exposed. The only ones that are stuck are the aquatic plants in the water." Chunchun reached the edge of the flood wall, her hands trembling.She couldn't exert any more strength, even if she supported herself to prevent her body from falling, she couldn't do it.His body was like a bison, pulling her mercilessly in the opposite direction.Finally, like a lonely shell, she fell into the river again.For a while, she sticks a hand or half her head out of the water, but then all we can see is a slight swell of water.Her face began to emerge in the vast and dull night sky. This face of the soul stayed alone in the void, watching herself sinking deeper and deeper, always clinging to and being sucked by the bottom of the water like a weight.Later, it also disappeared. "Can it be said that she still has a strong desire to survive?" the TV reporter said. "You can understand that the person who wants to die is dead, and her body is still reacting instinctively." The medical examiner lights a cigarette.The cameraman walked away with the machine on his shoulders.The people holding their breaths began to speak.The chubby reporter came over and said, "You can't prove that someone else tricked her into drinking the pesticide. She's drunk." "Do you have proof?" "No." "What did you say without evidence?" "Anyway, I can't completely rule out the possibility of homicide." When the reporter walked back, he pulled the nylon rope around the boatman's waist. "It's none of my business." The boatman shook his head. "You are not bad." "none of my business." "Why don't you tie her one hand, can't you drag her ashore with one hand?" "It depends on the situation." "Wouldn't it be easier to tie one hand?" "I don't know. I'm going back." The reporter dropped the rope in disgust.At this time, the policeman said, "Don't you want to ask? There is a former landlord of the deceased here." The group of reporters turned around and looked at me in unison, as if there was some obvious murder weapon pinned to me. "I have something else to do." I said. "Just a moment," said one of them.But the dwarf said, "What can I ask?" He left alone. "We'll hold you up for a while," the rest followed behind me, "Who is she to you?" "My wife's former classmate." "Why does she live in your house?" "She was my wife's classmate and had a good relationship with my wife. At that time she couldn't afford to rent a house." "Did you know she cooks chicken?" "have no idea." "I really don't know, I don't know?" "really do not know." "Did any man come to the door at that time?" "No." "Then did anyone call her?" "I don't know." "How long has she lived with you?" "Three months." "Three months, how could you not know?" "really do not know." "You don't even know she's a chicken?" "She probably didn't do it at the time." "Then do you know that she steals?" "I don't know. I have to go." "For that matter, has she ever stolen anything from you, or anyone else?" "have no idea." "Then did you charge her rent?" "No." I continued to walk, they were like parachutes thrown by an airplane, and they were getting farther and farther away from me.They said: "No rent is charged, maybe it's paid for by sleeping." I stopped immediately and pointed at them, "What are you talking about?" They spread their hands and looked at me strangely. "Let me tell you, you have a chicken on the left and a chicken on the right, what about you? Don't you?" Sometimes being angry can make people speak more fluently, "Have you ever thought that she is also a person and has human dignity? She is dead Now, why are you still entangled in those things?" "It is an indisputable fact that she is a chicken, and we speak with facts." “去你妈的用事实说话，你们只是挑有利于你们的事实而已。你们的报道有一句同情她关心她的话么？你们关心的只是读者的肮脏心理。你们为着讨好读者，不惜出卖一个可怜的女人。这就是你们自诩的新闻正义？你们跟那些恐怖分子有什么区别，你们不就是报纸的败类新闻的亡命之徒吗？你们从前到后，有从人的角度去理解一个当事人么？” “你理解过。你说。” "roll." 我走向车辆。可仍旧气不能平，我转身继续咆哮：“什么事到你们这儿，都被刻画成色情。色情、色情、色情，你们脑子除开这个就没别的了。一旦不是色情，你们就疯狂做伪证。你们有笔能写，信口雌黄没人管。你们不怕报应？” 他们一起笑起来，你看他，说得头头是道的。我钻进车，感觉爽多了，觉得只要一提方向盘，车子便能跑向天空。可不一会儿，脑袋便鸣响起来。我去了电玩城，到处是嗒嗒的枪击声，我玩不好，便去洗浴中心。水柱砸向地面，也是嗒嗒的声响。我还得去迪厅，迪厅真好啊，就像有什么东西主导着我们，嘭呲，嘭呲，嘭呲嘭，让我的一只手不由自主弯出来，在脑袋和肩膀跟着弯过去后，它又主导你朝另一个方向弯去。没人告诉你这样，是你自己知道就要这样。这样我就无暇顾及那让人发疯的嗯唵声了。 后来我将脑袋塞到小姐的胸里，说：“就这样捂我一夜吧。” "No." “就这样捂着我的脑袋，求你了。” 我捉住她的腰，继续说：“我给你两千。” 我直到次日才回到小区。阳光明媚，而我因为疲惫而恶心。我将车停到门口，甩上车门，看见那伙记者守在一辆车内。来了，来了，他们怂恿着穿鸡心领毛衣的矮胖记者。后者摇开车窗，说：“不要以为我们的办事能力差。” “操你妈。” 我走向小超市。我听到车门被关上，感觉他像豺狗一样盯着我的背部。他一定一只手插在裤兜，另一只手晃荡着，他用眼神跟同伙说，看我的，然后继续吊儿郎当地走过来。最终他拍住我肩膀，说：“听说你和她关系不明不白。” "Who?" “死者。” “我说你是听谁说的？” “你别管，你就说有没有这回事。” “谁这么诬陷我？” “这个人，你认识他，他也认识你，”他的手划向空中所有住户，“当然我也认识他，虽然刚认识不久。不过，从我的角度来说，我还是愿意相信当事人一点。” "That's not the case." “我也是为你好。”他看着我，你最好考虑清楚，写什么，怎么写，都在我。 "Get out." 我继续走向小超市。他走过去拍打我的汽车，说：“你不知道马路边不能随便停车的吗？”接下去又对那一伙记者说：“一个普通居民而已，把自己当新闻发言人了。”直到我从超市结账出来，他还在说：“你不觉得你现在的表现很可疑吗？” 我想抽他一顿，但我想他没什么招了。 列车最终悄无声息地驶出去，就像上帝轻轻移走一块积木。一共十五节，一会儿就溜完了，我看见对面的月台空荡荡。它好像只装载小莉一人，它的任务就是负责将小莉从我身边装走。我感到一种散架的孤独。我们家就像散伙了。 我随便吃了点，买到刚上市的早报晨报都市报，坐在车站逐字逐句读。它们以较大篇幅报道春天事件的新进展，可用其中一道标题概述： 它们以一名KTV小姐的讲述为底，外加许多评论性语言组成。她化名芊芊，就是穿旗袍、涂口红、在河边喋喋不休的那位。她敢作敢当，拨开身边掐她的伙伴，提着裙衩走到刚被她们拒绝的记者面前，说：“她就是被他们害死的。” “别说。” “什么别说？要是没做亏心事，他们为什么跑掉？” “事情都过去一个月了。” “就是因为这个，就是，”她觉得旗袍很闷，叉开两腿，像只圆规那样站着，“来，有多少料我给你们爆多少料。别拦我。” 一枚从周生生买的铂金戒指，价值约一千五百元。毛毛戴不进，问：“你这是给谁买的？” “给你买的。”马勇讪笑道。 “你怎么不带我去试？你知道我指围吗？” “我身上有钱，一时高兴，临时买的。” “谁信？” “不信拉倒，拿来。” “不，你说清楚。” “拿来。” “给我试试。”这时春天走过来。毛毛愤怒地递过戒指，说：“你试你试。” “走开。”马勇说。 “给我试试。” “你试，你试啊。” “你别哭，男人是你从我手里枪走的，我都不哭，你哭什么？” 春天对着光线举起它，在男人就要抄走时，一转身，戴到右手无名指。严丝合缝。no more, no less.她还甩了甩手，它就像生在上面。 “摘下来！”马勇吼道。春天转过身，看见他作势要扇下来的巴掌，说：“打啊，打啊。”毛毛气得不成样子，不停跺着高跟鞋。 “打啊，你倒是打啊，这个戒指你说要买给我，转手送了别人。”那巴掌便打下来，并不重。“你以为你是什么东西。”马勇说。 “我不是什么东西，我只是好怀念生病时，有人跑来，又是炖汤又是按摩的。”春天摘下戒指，瞟了眼毛毛，还给她，“我只是戴戴好玩，他哪里会给我买什么戒指，他也从没带我去金店试过指围，我只是逗你玩儿。” 至少在这个环节，姐妹们认为春天是打了漂亮仗的。那戒指从此像脏东西，毛毛指头没法戴，心里也戴不上，可为着刺激春天，总是拿出来玩。“你玩着玩丢了怎么办？”有人说。 “丢就丢了，好大一场事？” 可真丢了时，毛毛大汗淋漓，在衣柜、收银台和包厢不停翻找。包厢灯暗，她便取了应急灯，后来还拿扫帚柄去沙发底下扫荡。“他要是知道了，还不打死我？”她看着姐妹们，“也不知道是谁人品这么烂，手这么贱？” “你好好想想，最后一次见到它是什么时候？” 她骂骂咧咧地想。马勇走来时，她还是没想到。“什么事？”他说。她低头咕哝着。卫生间，肯定是，上个卫生间，不见了。 “到底怎么了？”马勇烦躁地问。 “春天偷了我的戒指。” "Are you sure?" “我记得上卫生间回来时，看见她的身影。” “你确信看到？” “百分之八十是她，百分之百。” “春天。”马勇喊叫道。 “什么事？”春天走过来。 “你拿了毛毛的戒指？” "No." “我再问你一次，拿没拿？” "No." “我给你机会，你自己拿出来。” “我没拿，怎么拿出来？” “我最后一次警告你。” “我没拿。” “好吧，所有人都给我滚到更衣室，滚进去。” 马勇像赶鸭子一样将大家赶进去，命令每个人打开衣柜，由毛毛挨个检查。现在想起来，并不是毛毛有什么证据，她只是出于害怕，要将去失戒指的责任推给别人。她选择了自己最恨的人。可是春天瑟瑟发抖起来。在所有衣柜都没找到这银白色的玩意儿后，毛毛喊起来：“扒开春天的衣服，搜身。” 春天缩着身躯退到墙边。毛毛走过去，抽了她一耳光。“没有。”春天说。可还不如不说呢。毛毛蹲下去，掀开春天上衣，将手探进胸罩里摸索。“没有。”春天痴愣地看着上方，气若游丝。 “什么没有？”毛毛从她胸罩里取出戒指，“你看看这是什么？” "this is mine." 毛毛戴它，果然戴不上，“你看清楚，这是谁的？” "mine." 毛毛一个巴掌打下去，将要再打，被马勇拎走。春天眼里闪出一些欣喜来。可是马勇挽起衣袖，躬下身子便揪住她的头发。春天开始弹跳。马勇没有抓好，重抓了一次。他拎起她，用手肘压住她脑袋，掂了掂，说一声“起”，三两步便跑向另一头。春天的身子跟着自己的头发，头发跟着那只文着暗蓝色大龙的粗手，朝另一头奔跑，猛然撞到墙上。还好墙上包着厚呢，墙体也是木板，否则准得撞死。 “是不是你偷的？” "no." 马勇换了另一只手，重新抓牢，不停拎着往墙上撞。“你这个疯子！”马勇咆哮着。而春天还在说：“你说过永远不打我的，你说过。” “你他妈就是一个疯子，我认识你的时候你就是个疯子。” 马勇是个偏执狂。我们以为撞三五下就够了，可他撞个没完没了。我们一起去拉他胳膊，他还是用尽最后的气力，将她撞了一次。墙都凹下去一些，脖子撞歪了。 因为这事，很多人觉得过去一些莫名其妙的事都得到解释，比如一只耳坠不见了，或者本来是五百元的转过背回来就只剩三百。她们恍然大悟。可我觉得春天不是这样的人。春天是偷走了戒指，可这和偷走一个男人相比算得了什么？你偷走我的男人，我偷走你一枚戒指，不算合理吗？何况这戒指本来就是买给我的。谁比谁不要脸？春天当天就走了。 我坐到九点，买了啤酒，一手抓着方向盘，一手握酒瓶，开车回家。我看见路人指着我，无声地惊呼，交警也露出疑惑的眼神。我若被逮起来就好，我实在没办法安排自己的生活了。 我在家里沉沉睡去，直到房门被敲响。是物业的人。“公安分局打电话来，要你下午两点前去一趟。”他说。 "What's up?" “没说。” “你确定是找我？” "yes." “那你知道是询问还是讯问？” “我不懂，你最好赶紧去一下。” “一定是找我去问春天家人的联系方式，”我说，“一定是这个。” Why?我坐在沙发上，不停地换电视频道。Why?可最终我还是驱车出了门。在岔路口，我看见阳光暖融融的，像在人行道上铺了一层明晃晃的水，树枝和树叶全镀了金，灿烂地摇曳。这是自由时刻的景象，你可以就此开溜，远走高飞。可我还是驶往分局。我反复跟自己强调：询问针对的是证人、受害人以及知情的人，讯问针对犯罪嫌疑人，如果是犯罪嫌疑人，不会打电话来，直接上门扑倒就是。 驶入分局大院后，我没有急着打开车门。我还在想，这一生我到底做错了什么事而自己还不知道？或者，我曾经得罪过什么人？等到我确信嘴里没一点酒味后，才走下来。我想我害怕的是公安局本身，就像头一次住院的人，满脑子都是开膛破肚的传说。 “没事的。”我在走廊听到一个来回兜圈儿的人这样呢喃。他穿着松软的白衬衣白背心黑裤子，脚上还蹬着凉鞋，趾间粘着发裂的泥块。他是船夫，自言自语道：“我不就是听你们指挥打捞一下吗，打捞有什么错？”我斜盯着他，他便低头避开我的眼神。我按纸条上写的，敲开某间办公室的门。一位戴着眼镜的白胖警察坐在里边。“坐，坐。”他站起来，带着本性里的善意。还给我倒了杯水。这使我大为宽慰。 “请问找我有什么事？” “没事，就是想了解一些春天的事。” “她是我妻子过去的同学。” “她为什么住你家里？” “她是我妻子的同学，和我妻子感情非常好，她又穷，租不起房子，就住到我家里。住了三个月。” “你觉得她是个什么样的人？” “是不是好人不好说，但至少不是坏人。她讲礼貌，很少给别人添麻烦。” “你知道她在KTV干过么？” “我也是最近看报纸才知道的。” “她有没有向你或者你夫人说过什么？” "Say what?" “谁谁对她不好之类的。” “从没说过。” “你回忆一下。” “没说过。” “她住在你家时也没说过？” “没说过。” 他做完笔录，走过来给我看，我伸出右手食指，轻点印泥，在签名上摁了黄豆那么一块。“你们每个人摁指纹怎么都这么小气？公安局就有那么可怕？”他说，但没让我再摁。 “我可以走了么？”我擦着印泥，说。 “听说你是画家？” “只是业余爱好，算不得什么。” “那你怎么看这事？你坐。” “现在的死亡都他妈是受辱，”我在报复自己刚才的谨小慎微，“在之前任何一个世纪，死亡都是私事，都是一个人庄重的谢幕。而现在，你看看现在，它变成人咬狗的新闻素材。你不知道每天有多少读者对着春天这个名字手淫。” “你这么说很新奇。” “还有更新奇的。就是以前我从不信一句话，现在信了。” "What words?" “'人一进公安局，没罪也会觉得自己有罪'。” 他看起来乐翻了。我说：“现在我可以走了么？” "wait." 他背着双手，游荡到走廊，将脑袋探进会议室。通过虚掩的门，我看见会议室地上团着一捆沾满灰尘的电线。“我可以走了么？”我说。 这是个念头。就像我听见的嗯唵，只是个念头。它扎根于脑海，小莉却试图通过肉身的位移来躲开它。“我们快点走，我一刻也待不下去。”她说。她弄不开车门，嘭嘭地拍打它。我一转，它便开了。她刚发动好汽车，熄火了。她当然又不停地拍打方向盘。 “手刹没松。”我说。 她嘶嘶地发着气，吼道：“还愣着干吗呢，还不过来开？”我便下车。在擦肩而过时，她既不看我，也不说话。她脸上扑满白粉，神情僵硬冷漠，身上散发着我没闻过的味道。这是憔悴的征象。她半躺着坐好，眯着眼说：“看见什么了？”我知道她不需要答案。河边，记者和围观的人都走了，穿旗袍的小姐该说的都慷慨激昂地说了，如今在孤独地烧纸。她一边用小枝拨弄不大的火焰，一边哭。她既为春天哭，也为自己哭，归根结底，还是为自己哭得多一些。我没有告诉小莉这些，我什么也不说。 直到到达农庄，她还在睡。而一醒来，便说：“这是什么地方啊？”她看见的想必也是我看见的，挂着暮色的屋角，阴凉的地面，一伙从不认识的人。他们带着动物那样的眼神，平静地看着我们。这不是你指名要来的地方吗，我想。 “我们先去吃饭。”我说。而小莉跟着店员走向房间。是大炕铺。 “不是说有单间吗？”我问。 “不好意思，你看也不影响什么。”店员说。 “那还有单间么？” "No." “这到底是什么地方啊？”小莉吼道。 “男女会分开两个大铺，都这么睡七八年了。”店员鞠着躬，退了出去。 “我怎么睡啊？”她继续吼道。 “我也不知道会这样。” 其实地方是她定的。她发泄完，就会从后面抱住我，撒撒娇。可现在看起来不会了。“我们去吃饭吧。”我说。 “不想吃。” 我们去了大食堂，她果然只吃了几片葱花。我发现这里有股蠢蠢欲动的气息。当店员将几张桌子拼到一盏亮灯下时，男人们抛下筷子围过去。他们要进行简单而快捷的赌博。店老板洗牌，游客抽取一张，如果抽到九，而上家抽到七，则可以赢上家两百。如果下家是六，还可以赢下家三百。每个人都觉得自己会赢。我抽了一张，赢了一千。 “别玩了。”小莉说。 “您别不好意思。”店主讪笑着。这时我的血液正茂盛地流开阔地流，全身正在发痒。“再玩几把。”我说。 “我说别玩了。” “最后五把，就五把。” 小莉靠在我肩上睡了。要不是我突然抖动胳膊，将一张大牌甩到桌面，她估计永远都不会醒来。她说：“怎么还没完啊？” “就快了，就三把。” “怎么还有三把？” “最后三把。” 我说的是真心话，但是三把复三把。一直到我望了几圈没望到小莉时，才收手。我想我真该死。我走到大炕铺，掀开门帘，就着昏暗的灯光找，没找到。其中一个有点像，我轻拨她肩膀，她便翻转过身，继续打鼾，鼻孔下还挂了一颗泡泡。where did she go我焦灼地走向农庄的每个角落。不会被强奸被谋杀被丢进井里了吧，天黑透了。我打电话没人接，又不敢太过失态地呼唤，我去问路人，他们努力回想，若有所思，最后摇头。我走向门外，汽车还停在那儿。我拍打车门，又用手机的弱光照，没人。 这真跟噩梦一样。 我终于丧心病狂地喊起来。店员仓促跑来，将我带向厨房。一位厨娘正在涮锅，她努努嘴，你看她睡得多香。我看到我亲爱的孩子正扑在木桩上，就着旺盛的火盆睡呢。我在厨娘的嘻嘻笑中将她抱出来。 “去打啊，再去打。”她扑打着，我嘿嘿笑着。然后她真的粗暴地、怀着恶意地推开我，走下地面。 “我要回去。我们什么时候回去？”她说。 “我们才刚来。” “我要回去。” 我看着她恶狠狠的嘴脸。“好，你不走，我走，”她转身就走，“你就死在这里玩吧。”我心里被割伤了。不过我还是跟着她去锁柜取了行李，又跟着走向汽车。我说：“还没退钱呢。” “有多少钱，要退你去退吧。”她夺过我手中的钥匙，推开我，打开车门。我拉她，她便弹跳起来，“干什么？” “我来，天太黑，我来。” 直到回到家，我们还是没说一句话。她在副驾驶位置低头睡着，我开着车，眼睛紧盯车灯照耀的路面。就好像不是车辆在奔驰，而是柏油路将自己送到轮胎下