Chapter 33 Game 4 Crown of Thorns (7)

He hadn't read the letters and poems she had written to him.Every time it is swept away, and then put into the drawer.But he remembered to mark each one and never lost it.He knows that as long as it is not discarded, the ink on the paper will not disappear with time.He had always smugly believed that she would eventually leave broken clues, and that he would eventually go back to spelling and recalling the words.Unless one day he burns these old letters, and let them turn into fine ashes in the flames, returning to the end of nothingness.But this assumption does not exist.so many years.Only she had written to him for so long.So many letters.And those poems.

Those letters, looking back on them decades later, were not actually addressed to each other.It was originally a letter to myself, in which I described all the trivial things I heard, saw, thought, and thought... I used words to witness the slow growth, the youthful and bitter youth, and the suffering and struggle I endured.The paranoid and violent nature of youth.These letterheads used to write to oneself are viewed and kept by the other party.Until it is determined that each other disappears. He had thought she might be a writer, though she never did.Those letters are so beautiful and fluent, sincere and delicate expressions, and the feelings of watching and drifting away from the world revealed, are already the best training for writing.She has good artistic creation and aesthetic ability, writing, photography, design, painting... She is capable of many things, but she doesn't concentrate on digging them.She only uses a small part of her talent to make a living, working as an editor, designer, photographer... but all fall by the wayside.She rarely uses her talents, or rather, she abuses them by neglect.She doesn't value herself, she just wants to roam the world loosely.

Sometimes he wonders if they will understand more when they are together again when they grow old with each other.The limit of this understanding is that he will no longer try to make any explanation for what he has done.He will feel safe hiding his struggles and powerlessness from the world.And when he was old, maybe he'd try to tell her all that.All his emptiness, confusion, disappointment, and weakness.So will she. 8 Khanmi's place of residence is still a wooden shed, but it is simpler than Lager.The room was just bare boards and damp sheets, too dirty to sit on.They were drenched when they arrived.After removing the raincoat and rain pants, there is no dry place.It was a very embarrassing day.She looked at the leeches rolling on the raincoat and shoes, and burned them off one by one with cigarette butts.He took off his mud-covered leggings and rubber shoes, exposed his soaked white ankles, and put on slippers.

The same dark and dank kitchenette, with a greasy square wooden table and a crude food cooker.She washed her clothes, shoes and leggings under the tap, and took them to the woodshed to bake.There are large and small leeches floating in the water, still wriggling.The fire was built with firewood, and the clothes were hung on the clothesline to bake.Make a large pot of hot tea.Touch the wound of a leech bite on the neck.The black and fine scars are raised and hardened one by one, which may not disappear for a long time. Sitting alone at this moment seems to be the ultimate enjoyment: I changed into clean and dry clothes, warmed up by the fire with bare feet, had hot tea to drink, and could see the vast green valley in the distance, lingering in clouds and mists, and hanging white waterfalls dotted around, one by one. And down.Beautiful and picturesque, the voice is majestic.There was a herd of black local piglets running around in the swamp outside the house.Isolated mountains.A dusk with heavy rain and no one.

Four or five new porters who stayed here came in.Wearing the army camouflage uniform that local mountain people are most accustomed to, he is soaked through, and there are blood stains on his neck after leech bites.But it came from Back Beng in the opposite direction.From Beibeng to Khanmi, the distance is 34 kilometers.Stout and tall men sat in the narrow woodshed, lit cigarettes one after another, and looked curiously at the young woman who had entered the canyon.One of the men started talking to her, are you going to Medog? yes.Is the road condition okay? There are several large landslides on the way from Khanmi.One of the landslides has collapsed several times, and the area is so large that it may not be able to get over it.You should at least wait until the rain stops.Heavy rain will make the mountain more unstable.The road is very dangerous.The day before yesterday, a local man was killed on the spot by a boulder falling from the mountain on the road.

The man who spoke repeated again, if it continues to rain heavily tomorrow, don't set out to go to Beibeng.If you can't make it through, then you can only turn back.He said. At the dinner table.They ate bacon and cabbage, tofu soup, and green vegetables under a dimmed light bulb.The portion of the dish is small and the rice is plentiful.Because of the high physical exertion, I can eat several bowls of rice with chili.Shansheng said that he did not sleep at dusk, and went to a nearby camp to ask soldiers about the situation.There were soldiers on duty there, and it was also mentioned that there was a big landslide on the way to Beibang.These bad news are not hearsay.

She said it was time to start.It is impossible to wait for the rain to stop. Yes, those porters have also come over.Stuck here, things will only get worse.Going back, you still have to go through the leech forest, and then cross the Duoxiongla. The journey is not easy.Tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, start on time.If you can go to Beibeng tomorrow, you can go to Medog the day after tomorrow.He got up and took two small bottles of liquor and a few cans of luncheon meat to send to the soldiers on duty. He stood up and saw a stream of blood streaming from her forehead, and stretched out his hand to part the hair on the top of her head. A fat leech crawled there, and its sucker deeply penetrated into her hairline.He quickly pinched the top of it with his fingers, pulled it off and threw it on the ground violently.It has been sucked full of blood, lying on the ground wriggling, unable to move.

He said that there are many leeches brought from the road here.Do a good job of checking your bed, sheets and sleeping bag before going to sleep. She said that now she feels a little tingling in her scalp.She wiped the blood from her forehead with the back of her hand, with a calm expression.She was used to the mollusk.