Chapter 2 five nine

Zhang Bing, as thin as a young tree with its bark peeled off, came to drink tea almost every night.There seemed to be nothing in his face; only a pair of deep, very dark eyes, which showed that he was not altogether weak because of thinness.After drinking the third bowl of tea, the black eyes began to glow; the lips, like a child about to cry, began to tremble.He's about to make an argument. His discussion is not systematic; he talks about and criticizes whatever happens to him.But no matter what he talks about, his criticism always ends with "the Chinese people are hopeless, and what I just said is another good evidence."After speaking, he automatically poured a bowl of tea and drank it in one gulp; he closed his eyes and stopped talking, showing: "There is no need to argue, the Chinese are hopeless. No matter what you say!"

That night, the electric lights were very dim, and reading was impossible.Zhang Bing came, looked at the room, looked at the light, nodded, sat down, and seemed to say in his heart: "The Chinese are hopeless, look at this light; the light company..." After drinking the third bowl of tea, I smiled and said, "Old Zhang, what's the news?" To my surprise, he smiled--he's not always easy to laugh. "There's a fight," he said. "Who? You?" I asked. "Me!" He looked at the teacup and stopped talking. After waiting for five minutes, he started automatically: "If you saw a strong young man, taking advantage of his superior physical strength, to beat a seven or eight-year-old child, what would you do?"

"Persuasion in the past, I think, is the first step." "If you see him beating that child, you think: If you go to persuade him, he will naturally stop beating, and go away muttering curses; the child is beaten for nothing! You think, past persuasion is a waste of time." Does it make sense?" His eyes lit up, looking at my face. "Of course I'll give him a good lesson, to make him understand that he shouldn't bully children, it's not decent." "Yes, it's not respectable; if he knows what respectability is, he still doesn't do it like that! Besides, if you really want to go and talk to him about such things, he will definitely ask you: 'Can you control it? What are you doing? Why don’t you care about this?” You might as well say something nice to Shitou if you argue with him; Shitou will not attack you with words. If you argue with him, you will naturally attract a group of people to watch the fun; He went his way, you go your way; but he beat the child for nothing, and he didn't get any punishment; next time he has the opportunity to do it again! It's cheap to beat a child who can't resist, He must have thought so."

"Then, do you think that he should be punished immediately, seeing injustice...what kind of thing?" I knew he hated martial arts novels the most, so I wanted to fight him.Sure enough, as I expected, he said: "Don't say it! I don't want to be a martial artist, I just can't stare at a child being beaten; that would make my soul completely angry! And I can't let the beater win the whole battle." Go! I went over and slapped him without saying a word!" "What about him?" "Him? Anyway, I have a plan: If I don't hit him, but go to persuade him, he will go away proudly; hitting people is a comfortable thing, from the perspective of people's animal nature. If I reason with him, the result will be I still have to fight; however, I may not be able to beat him, because he will strike first and not give me a chance to strike first." He laughed again; I knew what he meant.

"But," I asked, "if you hit him, he will definitely fight back. Are you his opponent?" I am very concerned about this point, because Zhang Bing is such a thin person. "Of course I thought of that too. If I beat him, he will definitely beat me; I will definitely fail. But there is one level, this kind of person, who is good at using his muscles to bully others, when he gets beaten on his own flesh, he will immediately use it." Cover it with your hands. At that moment, he only felt the pain and forgot to move. When he saw you clearly, he still didn’t dare to do it, because he always used his superiority of muscles to bully others. When he himself was beaten, he You must think about the person who hit him, there must be some origins; because when he hit someone himself, he saw clearly whether there was a surefire ticket and then started the fight. Even if he really fought back and injured me, I am not completely like That kid is so stupid, he will go to the police. At least I will go to the police district with him, and he will be wasted for a day (not to mention that he must be punished in other ways), so that he can also know that beating someone must at least go to the police district .”

He stopped talking, and I could see that he was feeling uncomfortable—uncomfortable, he hit someone, no need to mention whether his reasons were good or not. "He beats, and they beat him, and that's the right thing to do with them; man is hopeless, you say so often." I meant to make him laugh. He didn't smile, just shook his head slightly, and said, "It happened this morning. At four or five o'clock in the afternoon, I met him again." "Is he going to do it?" I asked, very worried. "Hit me, it's nothing! Call me, call me—how should I put it?—The sad thing is: when I met him this afternoon, he was pulling two teenage foreign children He was obviously a servant for a family of foreigners. He took the two foreign children, drove me over, told them, begged them in a low voice: kick him! kick him! Then he said to me: you! How dare you hit me? Me? The foreigners don’t hit me either! (Please note, here he is clever, missing the word “dare”!) Then he said to the two children: Kick! Kick him! See if he dares to provoke foreigners! He paused for a while, then suddenly asked me: "What day is today?"

"Five nine!" I don't know why my tears flowed down. "Ouch!" Zhang Bing stood up and said, "No wonder there are so many slogans saying 'Down with Imperialism' on the street!" He seemed to have forgotten to say the sentence: "The Chinese have no hope," and left without drinking a bowl of tea.