the most beautiful time

Chapter 49

I rarely talk to my parents about the words I type every day.Occasionally I go home for a short stay, and I also stay up late in front of the computer and keep busy.My mother always insisted on staying with me until the early hours of the morning before going to sleep. I listened to the sound of the TV in the living room, which was almost too quiet. When I went to the bathroom, I glanced at my mother, who was already dozing off in a daze. I called her softly, She would startle, then rub her eyes, look at the TV screen, and say: Why haven't these two men and women finished arguing.

I almost forced her to go to sleep, but she couldn't help it, so she had to lie on the bed and "fake sleep".But from time to time, I squinted to check the time, and "interrupted" me cautiously: What do I write when I type on the computer like this every day?I always reply her with the same sentence: I didn’t write anything, I just played around.With a bit of dissatisfaction, she let out a soft "oh", then turned around and fell asleep again, until I also went to bed, she seemed to have completed a big task, she breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly felt a slight pain snore.

When my mother came back from my hometown that day, she yelled excitedly at me as soon as she entered the door, saying that there were children in the small town who were studying abroad. When she saw her, she said that many students in their school liked my writing, and he even bought it specially. Where is my book.After the narration, my mother suddenly asked me: What book did you publish?Let’s put a copy at home sometime, so that I can show off to others when others come. This is written by our daughter.I laughed at her vanity, and said that they were all trivial writing, which would not be successful. When I really became a writer, it would not be too late to show off.My mother didn't listen, and from then on, her eyes lit up when she saw people, and she tried every means to bring the topic to my "brilliant achievements".

Her father, who always laughed at her vanity, was on the same line with her mother in this matter, and would be willing to help, as if I was the treasure they were most proud of.But more often, my father is taciturn, and he prefers to search for my news from the newspaper.He never had the habit of buying newspapers, but he would stand by the newsstand for half an hour until the boss kept rolling his eyes at him, or simply drove him away.When he was walking on the road, when he saw the newspaper on the ground, he would bend down and look at it for a long time, making sure that my name was not on it, and then got up and walked away with a little disappointment.After he found out that one of my texts had been broadcast and read on TV, even no matter what program he was watching, he insisted on watching the character list before turning off the TV.

Once when he was helping a neighbor to repair the sewer, the neighbor saw that his shoes were a little dirty, so he took a piece of the latest evening newspaper and asked him to wipe it. He was about to bend over when he suddenly remembered something and opened the newspaper. Can't wait to watch it.This time he finally got his wish and found my name in a corner of the supplement.Immediately, he was as excited as if he had won a lottery of tens of millions. He held the newspaper high above his head and said: Give me this newspaper. .After finishing speaking, without waiting for other people's consent, he left the work he was doing and went home excitedly to share the happy event with his mother.

That newspaper was kept intact by the father in the drawer, and it was locked, fearing that the children in the elder sister's house would rummage through it, find it out and fold the plane, or disappear miraculously one day.In that drawer, there are many treasures, his diary when he was young, his high school graduation certificate, his marriage certificate with his mother, my photo when I was one year old, the first percentile I passed the exam, and my high school graduation certificate. The only postcard I ever mailed to them, and even, one of my baby teeth.

I have responded to many letters from fans with enthusiasm, hoping to make them like my words as always, but I have not given my parents the most youthful and unknown fans in my life. , wrote a letter of love.They are always at the farthest place in my sight, and in the enthusiasm that I ignore, with the closest and most intense love, they follow my fast forward steps that leave them far away.

In this life, how many stupid things, stupid things, and absurd things do we need to go through so that we can cultivate a clear mind in the complicated world?

When you were in kindergarten, you could desperately howl for hours for a fashionable toy in the hands of other children, or for a colorful and good thing in the basket of a street peddler.I often cry out of breath, and the whole family puts down their work and come to coax and persuade; but you, in this kind of doting, become more and more arrogant. In the end, what you got in exchange for your foolishness is not The toys in other people's hands are not free stopovers by pickpockets, but the beatings of parents. Also, because of coaxing you to delay time, parents can't catch the bus to work, and they are criticized by the leader.

A few years older, after you have vanity, you will compare with the children in the neighborhood whose parents are capable, earn money to buy delicious food for yourself, or drive the car of the unit to take you for a ride .If you go to school, on the way, you happen to meet a friend who goes to school on foot, you will be complacent and self-righteous, ask your parents to stop, pick up the friend together, and show him (her) that they gave it to you in order to please your parents. The latest style of school bag, or running shoes.You chatted endlessly in the proud speeding car until your friend didn't even bother to say compliments, and just turned your lonely and lonely eyes to the outside of the car.From then on, your simple friend found all kinds of reasons and refused to go with you.It wasn't until the end that you realized that it was your showing off that hurt your friend's sensitive heart, and because of this material gap, he gradually became a stranger to you.

When you enter the flower season or the rainy season full of romantic poems, you fall in love with a certain pretty little girl in the class next door, you wait for her at the door every day, or bravely intercept her on the way she passes, and go to her house again Be a loyal guard under the window of the window, so as to find the opportunity and catch those little boys who compete with you for the opportunity.You tried to use this method to successfully capture the girl's heart; however, you thought you were smart, and did a stupid thing. You sent a love letter with many typos, while there was no one in the classroom, secretly She sneaked into the next class, found her desk, and was about to put it in a book when a group of students suddenly poured into the classroom.They take it for granted and turn you into the teacher's office as a thief.In a panic, you put that love letter into a homework book.The ending, of course, was turned over by a teacher who liked to pick up typos, and it became a joke that was talked about in the school's wild history.

After entering university, you have a lot of time to waste. During your vacation, you travel around and make friends.You also have a group of very loyal buddies or sisters, you date girls or handsome boys with them, you dance, karaoke, fight for wine, go to the bar across the campus to drink until the early morning, and then sell soy milk and fried dough sticks In the voice, he rushed back to school drunk, intending to find someone to answer for you in the class that will be called in the morning.When he was walking to the dormitory building, he was caught by the teacher who was checking for not returning home at night.Your name has never been seen on the honor roll, but on the school's exposure stage, you have repeatedly made your name known far and wide in this way.On the teacher's roster, behind your name, there is always a cross of indifference.And you are also indispensable on the list of make-up exams.In the end, under the management of your parents, you finally graduated smoothly, but when you saw the teachers in the university, you always wanted to hide. It seems that your embarrassing incidents of skipping classes, fighting, drinking, and playing make-up exams are still there. In his roster, there is every bit of it recorded, so that you will never turn over in front of him.

You finally have a job and a family to work towards, just like your parents wanted you to.You begin to understand the importance of money and power, and you use various methods to curry favor with the leaders and inquire about their preferences, so that you can give the most flattering gifts during New Year's Day or important events.You like to have nothing to do on weekdays and have nothing to do with the leader. When you are tired, you lose your temper, throw things, and don’t show good looks in front of your family. If your family pleases you and smiles at you, you say it is uneasy and kind; but once the leader Instructions, immediately use the unique skill of "changing faces" on the stage, stand on the saddle, be thoughtful and obedient, and see the leader showing a satisfied smile, you will also be happy, and feel that the value of life has been realized.

In the expulsion of time, you are getting old day by day, and you are finally squeezed to the corners and edges by society.One day, you were sick and lying in the hospital without a leader, so you came to greet the subordinates who had made contributions to the unit, and there was no soldier who had just graduated and flattered you to send a bouquet of flowers.And your cronies and friends are drinking and punching in a luxurious place in the city, having a great time.The public text messages sent to your acquaintances in groups on the mobile phone every festival are gone now.But a friend who is often forgotten by you who is busy with work, and rarely thinks what gift to give him, transfers many buses, comes to the hospital to see you, and holds you as soon as he enters the door, regardless of whether your disease is contagious or not hand, said, don't worry, the disease will be cured soon.In the secular world, you have held many people's hands numbly, but this warm and simple grip made you shed tears.

When you recovered and came home from the hospital, your children, parents, and significant other lined up to welcome you.You stand at the door, looking at this warm home that was once a bit boring, and suddenly realize that you have gone through most of your life, and you have returned to the original point, becoming the child who always makes your family worry.

It is at that moment that your long life is instantly opened up, allowing you to see clearly the bumpy road along the way.

I still remember the surprise and shyness when I stepped into the campus in the autumn of the mid-to-late 80s with a brand new cloth schoolbag on my back.

The excitement and tension started a long time ago.Because I didn't go to kindergarten with a schoolbag in a serious manner like my sister, my desire for reading is far better than other children. Before the age of 6, I wandered in the fields with my parents. When I heard the ringing of the elementary school bell in the village, I would prick up my ears and listen carefully for a while, and then tell my mother who was weeding that the bell rings again. My sister should go home from school with her schoolbag on her back.My mother coaxed me, and when Ann went to school, my mother would sew you the most beautiful flowered schoolbag, which would make others envious.I always hug my mother's thigh and beg her to let me go to school quickly. I want to be like my sister, put books with good smells in my schoolbag, and get up early to go to school for morning reading with my friends.

Finally, when she was six and a half years old, one night, my mother took out a piece of brand-new floral cloth from the bedside jujube box she brought when she was married, and cut out two rectangular pieces with big scissors. The cloth, and cut two other thin and long strips, and then put on the needle cone, flying needles under the oil lamp to thread.In a daze, I saw the shadow of my mother falling on the opposite wall. The wind blew over and swayed left and right with the light, like a silhouette on a movie curtain.

The next morning, my mother took me to the supply and marketing cooperative in the village by bicycle.In front of the stationery counter, my mother looked down at me tenderly and said, "Ann, which pencil case do you like?"I looked at the colorful pencil boxes inside, and I was so happy that I picked up one and was reluctant to give up the other, like the black bear in the text who didn't know whether to pick up corn or watermelon.In the end, I chose a tin pencil case with a picture of a beautiful little girl. When I opened it, there were multiplication formulas inside, and the numbers flew up all the way like a ladder, like the happiness in my heart.

(End of this chapter)