This is the longest love letter I have ever written. In order to let you remember our Shanghai, our time, lest you forget, forget me. But I swear I swore I would never, ever tell anyone this, This secret has been buried at the bottom of the river. Every summer, we are waiting for the typhoon to arrive, but time has passed and more than ten years have passed. When a thunder exploded in the sky, Sansan screamed and jumped out of the bathtub on Wanhangdu Road, which was so small that her feet had to be curled up, and pushed open the door of the toilet with her body wet before she even had time to put on her clothes.The sky quickly darkened as if a big hole had been torn open, and the air was filled with the smell of freshly cut grass.Still in shock, she thought that she had escaped again and did not die.When grandpa was alive, he always warned her when the typhoon came: "Don't take a bath when the thunder is thundering. If the water conducts electricity, you will die. And don't watch TV, the TV will explode." But she is still alive and will grow up. When I grew up, I gradually forgot these words of my grandfather and those fears.If only those childhood fears and fears were so groundless.If she becomes an insensitive adult after she grows up, she will not feel it, and there is nothing to be afraid of. Of course, she has not grown up at that time.She put on a skirt indiscriminately and ran barefoot across the patio to the room.The rainwater has instantly formed small ditches on the ground, pouring fiercely into the sewers.She stepped on the cold cement floor and unplugged all the few electrical plugs in the house, and then sat on a chair in the middle of the room and waited silently.She was very annoyed because she couldn't watch cartoons, and the show should be "The Extraordinary Princess She-Ra" at 4:30 in the afternoon.The sycamore tree outside the window was dancing its branches crazily, so she could only sit with a stern face, watching helplessly as the rainwater that was too late to pour into the sewer seeped into the room again, gradually flooding the entire room.The thunder that exploded above her head made her scalp tingle, and she could hear the anxious rats in the attic chasing each other's tails in circles even with her eyes closed, so she could only shiver hopelessly, waiting for the rain to recede.

Well, if you really care about me, if you have observed me carefully, you will know that I am Sansan, that unlucky serious little girl sitting in the old house.I used to be so afraid of dying in the bathtub of a typhoon passing by.I was once frightened by a mouse that jumped over my head, crying and rushing out the door. The soles of my bare feet were opened by a huge stone on the ground. I tried my best to grow into the person who was not what I thought.Now that I finally have the courage to tell the story from the beginning, it's not because I'm no longer afraid.Actually I never had the courage, but I fear that if I don't say it, I'll forget it altogether.I can forget about the bad stuff, but what about the best part?Will the best parts be wiped away with the filth of time?How could it be reconciled?And what a neurotic strength it takes to remember them.Is it still the little girl who is rampant and frail?Can I run faster than my male classmates wearing sandals with broken straps?Do I still dare to jump down from the leading platform?In case I've passed the best part of me, does my memory even count?But I still want to tell you that even though my heart was once such a hard little walnut, I would still crush it all and spread it out in front of you, so that you can see all the parts clearly.Do you care?I'll tell you all my secrets, will you sit down and listen to me?Do we all have this patience for each other?

The typhoon came again yesterday, I went for a walk outside and saw a lot of green plants soaked in the humid air.The tree that looks like a mimosa is called acacia, and the privet tree exudes my favorite smell in June.The roses seemed to have all withered overnight, and the petals were broken into the soil.The low tide of Suzhou Creek has left streaks on the soil, and the riverbed is full of unscrupulous weeds, all of which fall to one side.Cotton candy-like clouds race across the gaps between tall buildings.I'm afraid you'll forget this, because you've been away from this summer for so long, and I think if you forget it, you'll forget it with me.

What could be crueler than our forgetting each other? So let’s start with Wanhangdu Road.Sansan was born here. Her mother had aborted two babies before giving birth to her. She only knew that there was blood running down the toilet while she was sitting on the toilet, but she didn't know whether it was her brother or sister, so she was actually the third child.Everyone in the family calls her Sansan. Of course, this name will not be written on the test paper. The name written on the test paper is very complicated: Xu Jialiang.This name is really annoying, with a lot of strokes and a feminine look. It is conceivable that when you grow up a little bit, some pimple-covered hooligans on both sides of the road will pinch their noses and call "Pretty Girl" in an accent.But throughout adolescence, he wore ugly mushroom heads and wore oversized children's clothes that looked too bloated, and he hadn't even developed at all.When I was a child, I often forgot to write my name on the test paper. The math teacher once took a 98-point test paper and asked her to go home and copy her name 500 times in the exercise book.So in the middle of the night when even her father was already asleep, Sansan was still hunched over and holding a pen tightly to write those three complicated characters on the exercise paper.Because of excessive force, the nail of the index finger pinched on the thumb, and later the thumb was pinched with a half-moon-shaped purple blood mark, not to mention the ugly callus on the middle finger.At the beginning, those three characters were pretending to be squeezed into the narrow grid, but later they were distorted and completely lost their sense of direction, and they tilted blindly and uneasily, as if they were grinning viciously.In fact, the next day the math teacher completely forgot that he had asked his students to copy their names five hundred times.He probably just thought that the number of five hundred sounded endless, so he said it casually and left it behind.

Wanhangdu Road is behind Jing'an Temple. It is not quiet because it is next to a vegetable market. Every morning at four or five o'clock in the morning, there are trucks carrying large bundles of cabbage to unload on time.The pig with the purple stamp on its body has lost all its hair in the hot water, and is dragged around on the ground with hooks by the uncles in black plastic overshoes.The huge ice cubes on the yellow croaker collided with each other in white air, and the ground was dark all day long.On rainy days, my mother always reminded me repeatedly to walk on tiptoes to prevent those mud spots from splashing on my trousers, but in the end the freshly washed trousers were still covered with mud spots.Every time Sansan passes by this vegetable market, she is always attracted by the whole piece of pork belly hanging on the hook or the handfuls of chicken feathers that can be squeezed out of water.When the New Year is approaching, there are even huge sea fish that are covered with coarse salt and hung on the beams to dry.The owner of the meat stall was wearing greasy rubber gloves, waving the kitchen knife in his hand, leaning over and shouting, "Little girl, ask your mother to buy you a piece of braised meat!" He pulled his mother's skirt to signal her to leave quickly.In spring, there are silkworm babies, chicks, tadpoles and turtles in the corner of the market.She has raised all of them, and kept them in the small courtyard on Wanhangdu Road.In those seemingly endless springs, I watched the tadpoles not turn into frogs, but turned into toads whose brown tails had not faded.The baby silkworms as thick as a little finger were lying in the cardboard box containing royal jelly. Some of them ate bad mulberry leaves, and as a result, they had diarrhea and died green.The ones that didn't die simply cocooned overnight, and people were no longer interested. Let them one day turn into ugly moths, drop their eggs, bite through the carton and escape.In fact, the patio is really small, just to dry a bed sheet will be completely covered.Dad planted some asparagus and turtle backs, and a cluster of roses crawled on the wall. Small light pink and rose-colored flowers would bloom in early summer. After a rain, the petals would fall to the ground and slowly rot. Lose.On weekdays, the tortoises are kept free-range in the gutters of the patio.When grandpa was alive, he would cut fish or shrimp into small cubes and feed it. If no one fed him, he would find small bugs to eat by himself.One summer after the typhoon, a sycamore tree was broken at the door, and the tortoise didn't know where it was flooded.

The road in front of the house is full of small stalls selling fake Transformers, dime packs of sour plum powder, colored marbles in huge glass jars, or whole cigarette brands that have to be cut with scissors In the evening, there are also mutton skewers threaded on steel wires of bicycle wheels, and snow-white shredded radish stuffed oil pies. When you stir them with two bamboo skewers, the color of wheat will turn into silver-white maltose.Mom won't let me buy these dirty things to eat.Once, Sansan managed to hide 50 cents and bought a fragrant and hot oily dumpling wrapped in kraft paper. While her mother was hiding in the patio before getting off work, she gorged herself, and the ceiling in her mouth was burnt. , I haven't even had time to taste what that oily dumpling tastes like.And walking along Wanhangdu Road, turning a corner, you will pass the barber shop, Old Pine City, Xinhua Bookstore, Ninth Department Store and Hongdu Cinema.She could have walked the whole way with her eyes closed.She knew what books were on which shelf in Xinhua Bookstore, what new cassettes were on the audio-visual counter on the ground floor, and there were rubber bands and silks in various colors at the stalls at the door, but her mother rarely bought them for her.But if you go any further, you don't know if you go any further, and it's not her territory anymore.Her world was gone just by going to the Hongdu Cinema in her childhood and teenage years, which seemed to never end.It's all blank outside.What happened in the outside world didn't matter to her and didn't matter.

And my memory came to a screeching halt. Do you remember bringing a few bucks to the outdoor pool with your boys in your flip flops in the summer?Everyone chipped in to buy a pack of the cheapest cigarettes to sit by the swimming pool and smoke. A pack of cigarettes would be gone after two or three laps, and the remaining money would be used to buy a red bean popsicle or doll ice cream after swimming.When I got home, my mother had already cut half of the iced watermelon. You dug a big mouthful of watermelon with a spoon and fell asleep on the straw mat with the fan blowing on your head.When I woke up again, it was already half dark, and the smell of boiled corn wafted from the kitchen, and the two-episode Hong Kong TV series on the cable channel was about to begin.There are very few such cheap and dilapidated open-air swimming pools now. The ones I went to when I was a child must have dried up for too long if they are still there. The tiles are starting to turn yellow, and the bottom is covered with fallen sycamore leaves.Palm-sized leaves squeezed together, blocking the entire sewer opening.In fact, memory doesn't count for me at all.I know I've put a switch on myself and when the switch is on, the sad things are all forgotten, but even the happy times are very blurred.The past seemed to be shrouded in a mist, with neither sorrow nor joy.The best parts are shrouded along with the saddest parts, and there are only large blanks left, as if it is unthinkable to me to walk out of the Red City Cinema after watching a movie before the age of twelve, and the outside should not be there at all If there is a world, there is nothing outside.

Sorry, my memory has been ruined by myself.But who likes to cry?I hate those nights. There seems to be no one in the room. The doll is illuminated by the lights outside and casts a huge shadow. Cars drive past on the small road outside the window, and the shadow is also reflected hugely on the opposite side. The wall flashed by.The reason why I curled up in the quilt and cried was because my heart had been pierced mercilessly, and when the wind blew past, it was so painful that I was about to twitch.There is no way to do anything, and there is no way to fall asleep. I can only be paralyzed on the bed and wait for the pain to fade away.Go to sleep, maybe you can forget it when you wake up, but what if the pain never goes away?What if the waiting time has exceeded patience?

But I swore it.I swore never, ever, to tell anyone this.This secret has been buried at the bottom of the river. Who did you swear to?Is that person still alive?Had he grown to be twenty-five if he was still alive?But he will not live.He is cursed.He has been a boy with a rebellious bone in the back of his head since he was a child.He's the rat shit that ruined a pot of porridge.He has been predicted by his teacher as a typical thief, liar and rapist since the first grade of elementary school.No one wanted him to grow up, old enough to go to prison, maybe even his dad secretly wanted him to fend for himself in that damned childhood.But I know it's a passage.Thinking of his voice, he was wearing a pair of Huili brand sneakers that were washed white and degummed, and his soft hair was hard to flatten. He stood in a place without a background and shouted at her: "Xu Sansan, don't tell anyone. Hang yourself on the hook." No change for a hundred years!" What if he is already dead?If he is dead, can the oath not be counted?If he's dead, I'm the only one keeping the secret.If he is dead, can I stop being afraid?Is it possible to muster up the courage to dig up the silt at the bottom of Suzhou Creek again?Is it possible to actually sit down, like that little girl who sat alone in the middle of a flooded room during a typhoon, and start the story from the beginning?can you hold my handWill you share my secrets?I have never said this to anyone, and this will be the only time, even to myself.I'm afraid that I will forget it soon, and that one day those beautiful things will disappear without a trace like the thick smell of Suzhou Creek.All the old houses have been demolished, as if they are afraid that I will look back again and again, they must wipe away those traces, tell me that there is no past, no fog, and grow up like an ordinary girl with peace of mind .Now I don't believe that anymore.I have never been relieved, I think, I have gradually lost patience with loneliness and waiting.

"Xu Sansan, hang the hook for a hundred years and don't change it! Never tell anyone!" "What about you? You can't tell anyone either." "I, Astro Boy, keep my word! A man is a real man, once a word is spoken, it is hard to follow." It's hard to write any more, I'm terrified, But why do you all say to be brave? Bravery is a liar, bravery is a liar.