Chapter 8 remember lazy

A hut, with rabbit grass growing in the corner, and a lazy man lying on the bed.What's his last name?Or because he was too lazy to say, even he himself couldn't remember clearly.Everyone just called him a lazy person, and he didn't bother to deny it. In my experience, he is the world's first lazy person, so I pay attention to him: those who can be on "Wu Shuang Pu" should always be valuable. Fortunately, everyone has a weakness, otherwise I would not be able to associate with him; his weakness is that he likes to drink.Although he didn't take any action because of his love for wine, but when I brought him wine, he didn't insist on not opening his mouth to the end.What's even more gratifying is that after three cups, he was able to break the precept temporarily—talk to me.Can I still miss a few bottles of wine?So I became his buddy.Naturally, I had to fill the wine glass and bring it to his lips before he would drink.Could I be less courteous to induce him to speak?Besides, after three glasses, I just need to put the bottle under his hand, and he will fill it up himself.

Some, if not all, of what he said was strange and gratifying.And it's extremely naive, because his mind is too lazy to collect any words from books and other people's creations.He has no common sense, so he's not annoying.He is indeed a treasure, in this disgusting society. According to him, he has been lazy since childhood.He couldn't remember whether his father was yellow-faced or beardless: his father died when he was three; he didn't bother to ask his mother about him.He is the son of his mother, because she is too lazy to look good.Other women gave birth nine or ten months after conception.Lazy's mother was pregnant with him for a year and a half because she was too lazy to give birth.No one knew his birthday; his mother was the first to forget it, so naturally he couldn't remember to ask.

His mother later died too, and he doesn't remember how to bury her.However, he still remembered his mother's face.Although mother is in the heart of the lazy, it is inevitable to be missed; the lazy sighs through the power of wine that he has never sighed in ten years; the tears are finally too lazy to fall. He has been to school.He is too lazy to memorize everything, but he can't forget many small four-square characters, because everyone in the school, from the principal to the students, is not like a live monkey, jumping all day long; some comfort.The most terrible memory is "student".He couldn't figure out why his lazy mother sent him to school, or because he was in school, she could be more calm?Pain often forces people to remember.He remembered the "students" - a group of live monkeys who pushed him, beat him, squeezed him, kicked him, scolded him and laughed at him.He is a piece of wood.Being pushed around by the monkeys.He also seems to have graduated, but he is too lazy to get a diploma. "I don't even have a pinprick of ideals haunting my heart with 'inaction'." He had already drank half a bottle of white wine and said with his eyes closed. "Human disputes are all motivated by good things: if all people turned into osmanthus trees or plum blossoms, what kind of fragrance and tranquility would the world be like?" I deliberately lured him into talking.

He didn't seem to hear, or deliberately didn't bother to listen to other people's opinions. I decided to bring brandy the next time I come back; ordinary white wine is not enough to open his speaking mechanism. The brandy worked, and he actually sat up.Usually he salutes me with closed eyes and a slight movement of his eyebrows.Then, I handed the wine to his lips. After three glasses of wine, he began to talk, but he still lay on the bed and couldn't get up.When I had drunk enough wine, he was willing to point to the wine bottle when I was leaving, meaning to ask me to move it away; sometimes he thought it was troublesome to even point to the wine bottle.

Brandy had an unprecedented victory, and he sat up!My astonishment was like seeing the dead resurrected.I'm going to cross-examine him. "Friend," my voice trembled a little, probably because I was both surprised and happy, "Friend, in the past experience, have you ever been lazy for a day or a time?" "How many things in the world can make people unhappy?" Lazy all day?" His tongue was a little stiff.I like it better in my heart: a tongue hardened by wine is the favorite sport. "So, have you ever been lazy?" He didn't answer me then.I could see that he was searching for his memory.There was something very close to a smile on his face - that's just my guess, I've never seen him smile like that.After a long time, he nodded, drank another glass of wine, and said slowly:

"Once. It was a long, long time ago. If I'm forty--not paying attention to my age--I must be in my twenties." He paused again.I was very afraid that he would stop talking, but I didn't dare to press him; I waited and could hear my own heartbeat. "Tell me, what is enough to make a lazy person stop being lazy once." He asked me fiercely. I couldn't find a suitable answer for a while; I don't know how I remembered it, but I answered him correctly like this: "Love, love can make people not lazy." "You're a smart man!" he said.

I also took a gulp of the brandy, and my heart almost jumped out. His eyes formed a slit, as if looking at a picture that was being formed in his heart.Then he said to himself, "I remembered!" I didn't even dare to breathe out. "A crabapple tree," he was probably describing a picture in his mind. "The first time I saw her, it was under the crabapple tree. It was full of flowers, like a big ball of snow under the blue sky, surrounded by golden flowers. Bees. She and I lay under the tree, facing the crabapple flowers. From time to time, some birds would step on some flower pieces, like snowflakes, and fall on our faces. She, at that time, must be in her teens, I may be older than her. She is from my mother's natal family; I don't know what to call her, and I don't bother to ask. How long did we lie in bed? I don't remember. I just remember that it was the happiest day: listening to the buzzing, closing my eyes and using it The face is covered with flowers, and the sun cannot be seen under the shade of the flowers, but the spring air blows through the whole body, which is comfortable and warm. We are like a pair of lovers buried in the spring light. It is best that we can never move until the universe collapses .She is my ideal person. She is similar to my mother - love is enjoyed in silence. Other women break flowers when they see them, and look in mirrors when they see them, which makes people flustered. She can appreciate love like flowers and trees; I hate bees, I am busy all day long. But on that day, the bees were good. Their buzzing made me half asleep, half dead; between life and death I found complete peace and happiness. This happiness is a Open your eyes and you will lose it."

He paused for a moment and drank another half glass of wine.His words came smoothly and briskly: "The crabapple flowers are in bloom, and she disappeared. She probably went home, probably. On the day before leaving, I was with her under the crabapple tree—the flowers were in bloom, and Kazuki's oil Green leaves, small green crabapple fruit with yellow whiskers—watching each other’s blushing up and down so many times. We don’t even bother to talk. Eyes talk about everything.” “She’s gone,” he said even more Soon. "Of course I don't bother to inquire, let alone find her. When I miss her, I lie down under the crabapple tree for a whole day. When the flowers bloom in the second year, she doesn't come. The flowers are not as beautiful as last year at all." , the buzzing is even more annoying."

This time he took a breath into the mouth of the bottle. "I saw her again, and she has grown into a big girl. But, but," his eyes seemed to blink a few times weakly, slightly wet, "she has changed. As soon as she came, I felt She is too lively. She also talks a lot, hardly leaving me a chance to recall how quiet and beautiful she was in the old days. At night, she secretly asked me to meet under the crabapple tree. I don’t take a step forward after sunset , but I said yes to her; love makes one stop being lazy, you're a wise man. I shouldn't keep the appointment, but I did. She waited for me under the tree. 'Are you still lazy?' It was her I had no words for the first sentence.'Do you remember the years when we lived here?' She asked again, and I nodded—out of necessity.'Oh!' She sighed, 'If you You can stop being lazy; look at me!' I said nothing.' Actually, you can be not lazy; if you are so lazy, why did you come to see me? You can not be lazy! Let's--' she continued , I never spoke, she shed tears and walked away. I slept under the begonia all night, too lazy to move. She left again. Soon I heard that she was married. Soon, I heard that she was tortured to death by her husband Laziness is not good for love. But she, she lost her life like a flower because she was not lazy! If I listened to her and changed to diligence, maybe I could save her, but maybe I would lose my life. If She has never changed her habit of being lazy. Maybe we are still lying together under the crabapple flowers. Although we may not be alive, lying together is alive, and we will live forever. Only in pairs is love, love will not die!"

"You still miss her to this day?" I asked. "Hmph, that's the punishment for breaking the precept of laziness! If you don't be lazy once, you will suffer for life; I'm not the laziest person." He lay down on the bed again. I move the bottle away.He said again: "If I die—although I am too lazy to die—please bury me under the crabapple flowers, and don't bother to buy a coffin. I am too lazy to dream, but after mentioning this, it seems that I should lie under the crabapple forever Flowers—suffer eternal punishment!" After a few days, I did bury him.I temporarily planted a crabapple tree on it; no one with a crabapple tree allowed me to bury anyone.

Carried in "Yishi Bao" from March 15th to 17th, 1933