Chapter 51 chapter Five

Twigs: See words like meeting. I never told you about that damn experience. Near Nanming High School, next to the dilapidated steel factory, you know there is a piece of wasteland. In 1988, I was still in the third year of high school here, and I often went to play football with my classmates. Every time I kicked the ball and flew against the factory wall, I went to pick it up.One day I played very late, when I climbed over the wall, I looked back and saw that everyone had run away.It gets dark early in winter, and the wind howls.The factory in front of me was empty, only the factory buildings in the witch's district, and a large area of ​​withered smoky vines.

Legend has it that it is most likely to bump into ghosts at this time. Sure enough, I saw her. She walked out from the weeds, wearing a narrow cheongsam, not afraid of the cold at all.Her hairstyle was the one seen in the movie, and she looked at me strangely.I was only seventeen years old that year, and she actually took the initiative to talk to me in a soft Cantonese accent. I can't remember exactly what we talked about, but it didn't feel like fear.I followed her through the icy ruins, watching the cold night slowly fall, and the crescent moon rising on the top of the broken chimney.I saw the sadness in the corners of her eyes, and heard her talk about the interesting stories of that era, as well as her short life.Her twenty-five-year-old face is frozen in this wilderness, and will not be changed or hurt again.

Time turned into thick dust, and she was still buried brightly in the dust in the room. As a teenager, I stood under the cold new moon, holding a football in my arms, wild grass singing beside me, and the wind blowing my innocent eyes. She gave me a smile, but she wouldn't take me away. So, I grew up slowly like everyone else.Entering university and stepping into society did not change the world, but was changed by the world, so that she could no longer recognize me. At that time, I was already old. She was born in 1910 and died on March 8, 1935. After her death, she was buried in a Cantonese cemetery. Later, the cemetery was demolished and built as a factory, and her bones were integrated with the Witch Quarter.

Am I going to die at twenty-five like her? your teacher Ming March 8, 1995 In the autumn of 2011, Xiaozhi returned to Nanming High School and became a Chinese teacher. Sitting alone in a corner of the library, she spread out the letter that had been preserved for sixteen years. The yellowed letter was covered with neat and beautiful handwriting. Ouyang Xiaozhi stepped into the school library on the last day of school before the National Day holiday.I don't know how many times I have been here in those years. Although there are legends about the mysterious small attic, it is still her favorite place.There was no Internet in those days, and textbooks could not satisfy the thirst for knowledge at all, so every book is so cherished.She often sits in the reading room for two hours at a time, and sometimes forgets to eat dinner...

Today, the library has been renovated, the reading room is still in the old place, and the tables and chairs have been completely new.The collection of books has increased a lot, but there are still old books from more than ten years ago.Wandering among the bookshelves for a long time, I finally found the "Rise and Fall of the Third Reich", the blue cover with Hitler's face printed on it.Turning to the last page, there is a yellowed library card inserted, and the word "Shen Ming" is hidden among the densely packed names.She put the library card to her lips, as if she could smell the scent of her previous life.I do not know how many people have borrowed this book

over and over, but no one ever discovered the secret, on the back of this thick card—someone had drawn a pencil sketch of her face. Why choose "Rise and Fall of the Third Reich"?Because, how can girls read this kind of book? In 1995, a movie was released in Japan with the same plot. Suddenly, there was an extra person in the library. Ouyang Xiaozhi put away the letters from that year, and put this "Rise and Fall of the Third Reich" back on the shelf. She hid behind the bookshelf, observing that person through the books—is it him again? This high school freshman named Si Wang wandered around the reading room familiarly, slid his fingers across the rows of books, and almost passed her eyes.

His hand rests on the spine of a book, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich.Si Wang took out the book decisively, turned directly to the last page, took out the library card on the back, and put this card to his lips. Impossible, Ouyang Xiaozhi would not have seen the same behavior just now. After a long time, Si Wang put the book back, looked up at the small attic, and left the library. Only then did she dare to breathe loudly, hiding behind the window on the second floor, watching his back on the playground. Half an hour later, Ouyang Xiaozhi returned to the teacher's office. There were no other teachers in the room. Some were still eating in the cafeteria, and some had gone home early.The Chinese homework collected this morning is piled up on the table, and the computer screen saver is the Fujii tree and the Fujii tree in the movie.Waves of exhaustion hit me, and I was about to sit in a chair and close my eyes to rest, but my hand touched the mouse and destroyed the screen saver.

Only then did she discover that there was a piece of paper under the mouse, with a few poems written in someone's handwriting. Sit down and play the flute a few times, and the silver man and the red wall look into the distance. It seems that the stars are not from last night, for whom the wind and dew stand at midnight. The lingering thoughts pull out the cocoons, and the bananas are peeled off in the heart. In March and May in 2035, the poor glass of wine never disappeared. It is the fourteenth of the famous "Sixteen Poems of Qihuai" by Huang Zhongze, a poet of the Qing Dynasty.

Not only did she remember the poem, but she also clearly remembered the handwriting, which never changed... Ouyang Xiaozhi sat down on the chair, touched her heart, took out the old letter from her bag, and wrote this paragraph The wet verses are compared with Shen's own handwriting - almost certainly written by the same person! Subconsciously, he reached for the teacup, but knocked it over, and the whole table was covered with rose tea.She tidied it up in a hurry, and wiped the countertop with the whole pack of napkins. The paper was all wet. Would it melt the ink?Distressed, she put the paper with Huang Zhongze's poems on it by the window, pressed it on a paperweight and dried it.

Xiaozhi rushed out of the door and looked around in bewilderment. There were more people in the corridor. Anyone may have broken into the office, and anyone may have the ghost of Shen Ming riding around their necks. Finally, she turned her eyes to the rooftop of the multi-purpose building, from where she could see her office clearly. It seems that the stars are not from last night, for whom the wind and dew stand at midnight.