A Lucky Coin

"This is the room I live in. It does not exceed eight square meters by visual inspection." Yan Hang sat on the swivel chair holding the phone, tapped his toes on the ground, and the chair turned around.

-It’s better than the original one, but it’s a bit messy, it’s still not cleaned up after so many days

Someone said on the screen.

"I haven't woken up from hibernation," Yan Hang yawned, "Too lazy to move."

-Will you still see that kid today?

Someone asked again.

"That kid...I don't know," Yan Hang tilted his head and looked into the living room. "Go to the window and wait."

-I hope I won’t be bullied again today, I feel distressed

Yan Hang didn't speak, got up and slowly slipped to the living room window to stand.

In his 17 years of life, he did not know how many times he moved with his father and how many houses he lived in.

This time it was the first floor, facing a side street, very clean, better than the house behind the vegetable market before, at least not strange.

It's a bit noisy except for school hours.

The residential area is very large, and there are many children, big and small, who pass this road during school and after school.

Yan Hang opened the window and sat on the window sill.

It was still a bit cold, and the wind that came in was cool, and he took a breath like a mint.

He likes this window sill very much. There is no anti-theft net. The cabinet with the radiator is connected to the window sill. It can be regarded as a fake bay window. It is very comfortable to lean on to bask in the sun in the afternoon.

The kid you want to see hasn't passed by yet.

But it should be almost the same. He will pass by later than other students every day, not knowing whether it is because he staggered the time to go home with his classmates, or he was stopped by someone at school.

Yan Hang put the phone on the window sill and pointed out, without looking at the screen or making a sound.

Only two or three minutes later, a few students in school uniforms came over, throwing a schoolbag back and forth in their hands.

Yan Hang picked up the phone and faced it over there: "Come on, let's see what kind of performance the dead branches and fallen leaves of the motherland will have today."

Behind these few students who threw their schoolbags, there were a few shorter ones, and several of them were swiped on the screen-it seems safe today?

"It's not safe," Yan Hang said, "that schoolbag belongs to him."

The schoolbag is quite old and changes shape when it is thrown around. It is square, long, and oblique. Whenever the schoolbag draws a parabola in the air, a book or pen will fall out.

However, today's dead branches and leaves are milder than usual, and I didn't do anything.

The protagonist of this live broadcast followed silently behind him, bending over from time to time to pick up what fell out.

He didn't even look at the few people who threw his schoolbags and yelled at him and his own schoolbags, as if those people and things didn't exist at all, so he walked slowly with his hands full of things. The few people stopped, and he stood beside him in silence.

There was not much in the schoolbag, and it was empty within two minutes after throwing it away. The few students threw the schoolbag away, and one of them slapped the thing in his hand in the past, swept everything to the ground, and then a group of people Happily stepped on something on the ground and went on.

When the child squatted down to pick up something, Yan Hang jumped from the window sill and returned to the house.

-Are you not taking pictures?

Someone asked on the screen.

"No," Yan Hang said, "mourning."

After speaking, he didn't look at the screen again, and quit directly, threw the phone aside, and leaned back on the chair.

Looking at the school uniforms, these students should be from the junior high school of the 82nd Middle School next door. Yan Hang wanted to stroll for a while when he went out to eat at noon. Because he was lost, he walked three times in front of the 82nd lieutenant colonel and was very impressed.

This school is very strict, because when he walked through the school gate for the third time, the school police came out and stared at him. They kept watching for more than 100 meters. Yan Hang wanted to blow him back. .

Starting from the day of moving, for four consecutive days, every day, whether it is after school at noon or after school in the afternoon, you can almost see the child who was thrown with schoolbags being bullied in various ways. The person who bullied him and the form of bullying are not every time. same.

Yan Hang poured a glass of water. About half a month before and after moving, he felt a little sleepy for the first time, probably because he was too bereaved.

He glanced at the time, plugged in his headphones and lay on the bed, closing his eyes.

Do you love me?

Do you need me?

Do you want me?

Do you love me?

He hummed quietly to the music in the earphones, adding one after each lyrics.

"No."

Half asleep and half awake, Yan Hang heard the door rang, and then the voice of his father who had disappeared for a day and a half: "I'm back."

Yan Hang didn't make a sound and was very sleepy.

"Baby?" Dad yelled again while putting things away, "My dear Prince?"

Yan Hang sighed in his heart. Just as he was struggling to wake up, his father walked into his room and his voice suddenly changed: "Yan Hang!"

Before he opened his eyes, he felt that his arm was grabbed by his father, and he suddenly tugged: "What's wrong with you Yan Hang!"

"Fuck me," Yan Hang twisted his eyebrows and opened his eyes, his arms numb, his neck creaked, "I'm going to commit suicide, and let you get rid of it. "

"Why are you lying in bed this time?" Dad asked.

"Sleepy," Yan Hang looked at him, "You are in a good mood today, my lord."

"Get some money," Dad smiled, turned and walked out, "Get up, let's go to the restaurant... By the way, I helped you find a set of college English back. People said it was an English college book. What more intensive reading...I don’t understand, can you see if it works?"

"Anything will do." Yan Hang took off his earplugs and got out of bed.

"My son is awesome, he has never studied," Dad said in the living room. "I can read college English."

"I have a primary school diploma." Yan Hang leaned to the door.

"Yes," Dad nodded, "I have always kept it, our heirloom."

"...Let's eat." Yan Hang sighed.

Just two days after moving here, I don't know where there are good restaurants. Yan Hang originally wanted to check with his mobile phone, but Dad wanted to see his luck.

"Just go out this road and turn left and see the second restaurant, how about it?" Dad said.

"Yeah." Yan Hang nodded.

Ever since he was a child, my dad has liked this, leading him to create all kinds of unknowns, which is a game that has been played for more than ten years.

Sometimes the ending is a surprise, sometimes a fright.

Sometimes... meat hurts.

Such as today.

When they rented this house, the intermediary blew loudly, as if what they were going to rent was the center of the universe. Fortunately, they had many years of renting experience and basically asked the price to be able to judge the house.

It really is an old community.

But surprisingly, the intermediary did not blow too far, because following the path that Dad pointed out to the end, it turned out to be a bustling street full of modern flavor.

So after turning left, the second restaurant they saw was a high-end Japanese food store.

"What to do?" Dad turned to look at him.

"The shop you picked, let's finish eating with your heart." Yan Hang said.

"Go." Dad waved and walked into the store.

When I walked in, I was very chic. In fact, there are many situations like today. Dad is very chic every time, but it is not necessarily when he comes out.

"The crown prince," Dad stood on the side of the road and touched his stomach, "Do you think we have eaten this meal or not?"

"Eat." Yan Hang answered truthfully.

"Do you remember how much it was when you checked out?" Dad asked again.

"940 yuan, I got a card to deposit 1,000 and gave a 10% discount," Yan Hang said, "it cost a total of 846 yuan."

"It doesn't seem to be my illusion," Dad took out the card from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to him. "There is still 154 yuan. Go eat it when you want to."

"Great." Yan Hang glanced at him and stuffed the jam into his trouser pocket.

"Go back?" Dad asked.

"Please eat noodles." Yan Hang said.

"Huh?" Dad looked at him, "We just ate Xiaoyiqian's Japanese food. Don't you think that eating noodles when you come out is an insult to that 846?"

"Eat or not?" Yan Hang asked.

"Walk," Dad pushed him back to the side street, "I saw a beef noodle shop when I came over..."

This beef noodle shop is not bad. The bowl is big and there are many noodles. The key is that the large slices of beef are covered with a layer, which looks very enjoyable.

"This bowl is only 15 yuan." Dad said.

"Well," Yan Hang nodded as he ate, "eat first, and then I will give you the thousand yuan in silence after eating."

"Okay." Dad lowered his head and started to eat.

When he was almost finished eating, he looked up again: "Hang."

"Ah." Yan Hang replied.

"Do you want to go to school?" Dad asked, "I think this place is pretty good. I might stay longer."

"No." Yan Hang replied quickly.

"Then don't go," Dad also said simply, "I think you always read at home and wonder if you suddenly want to go to school, so that you can have more contact with people."

"Two things, I can get in touch with people even when I work," Yan Hang said. "Besides, I never thought about going to school, and I don't want to go to elementary school."

"Yeah, you have to ask me if I can drop out of school," my father laughed. "It made me fucking scolded by your teacher Lu."

Yan Hang smiled.

Teacher Lu is the only teacher he can remember. A very kind and kind old lady. The last time I saw her was the graduation ceremony of elementary school.

The old lady bluntly expressed her dissatisfaction with her father.

"Such a good boy," she said, "I'm really worried that you will be taught badly by your father."

Not long after returning home, my father went out again without saying where to go.

Yan Hang didn't ask either. He had never asked for so many years. Dad appeared and disappeared completely irregularly, what he did.

Will always come back anyway.

got used to.

While his father gave him a strong sense of security, he has also been deeply disturbed.

He cleaned up the things in his house. Since it is possible to stay here for a long time, he still has to take out the things and put them away.

He doesn't have many things, a suitcase for clothes, and a bag stuffed with his various gadgets.

Dad has fewer things. A few clothes in his duffel bag are all. Sometimes he feels that Dad's life is like traveling, and it's all short distances.

He can't count how many places he has visited with his father and how many places he has changed. Sometimes he doesn't even rent the room and stays in the hotel, and sometimes he returns to the old place several times.

"I want to go back to the old place," Yan Hang fell on the bed, took out the phone and looked at it, "I want to walk on the old road..."

Yan Hang casually glanced at a bunch of private messages on Weibo, and there was nothing of interest, so he asked him if he would live broadcast today. He replied "No" and threw the phone aside and put on headphones. .

I have had some insomnia recently, and I was sleepy in the afternoon, and was dragged away by my father's arm.

Yan Hang stared at the ceiling with headphones on. In order to coax himself to sleep, he heard the sound of rain, the sound of wind blowing bamboo leaves, the gentle guitar... lying on his back was numb, and it was useless.

So he got up, changed into a suit of sportswear and went out.

It was almost three o'clock in the middle of the night, there were no pedestrians on the street, and occasionally cars drove past with a shriek under the lonely street light.

The end of the road is bustling, and the night sky will be reddened by neon at the busiest time.

And his location, many cities will have it, close to the shabby behind the bustling, like two worlds, more like the shadow of that world.

Yan Hang plugged his earphones, changed his running song, took a breath, and started to run forward.

He likes to run. This is the best way for him to kill time.

He ran from the old residential area where they lived to No.82 Middle School, ran around the school a few times and then turned to the street. When passing by the Japanese food shop where he ate today, he ran two more to commemorate .

He ran the nearby roads roughly, and after running out of sweat in the north wind, he returned home.

After taking a shower, he rummaged in his bag, took two pills, and pounced on the bed. His exhaustion finally made him feel sleepy when he closed his eyes.

Coupled with the effect of the medicine, he did not get up until noon.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he froze for almost five minutes before figuring out that it was noon.

Sleeping with his head a little confused, and no appetite, Yan Hang gave up lunch, touched the English book his father had brought him back, and sat on the window sill.

Until the afternoon, he just sat on the windowsill, switching between the book and the phone, reading a dozen pages of books, and an extremely boring variety show.

Time is coming up again. Yan Hang switched to his cell phone. Without that child, he would only live broadcast when he was extremely bored. Now, besides his few fans who are as bored as him, he also Some curiosity about that kid.

Will it fight back?

How far will you fight back?

Yan Hang adjusted his sitting posture, leaned against the window frame, and turned on the phone.

Sure enough, many people were anxiously waiting to see, he silently turned the camera to the street, and soon there was someone discussing it.

Why is this happening, why nobody cares, Yan Hang sighed.

There are not so many whys, he hasn't asked why.

A few minutes later, the protagonist walked into the camera first, which was the first time in a few days.

He was pushed over.

From the window sill, you can see the street outside about a hundred meters away. It’s not clear what the road to the school was like before, but this one hundred meters is the last time before the little gangsters go home. For the first time, coming here is like the climax before a good show is about to end.

The protagonist staggered two steps, then looked back.

Maybe it was just an unconscious action, but it was indeed the first action he could call "resistance" in the past few days.

Then a few boys walked into the camera and kicked him on the back.

Yan Hang sighed.

It's heavy.

Then another boy kicked it on his leg.

Judging from this trend, it is estimated that one person has to kick one foot.

The bosses selling snacks at the nearby stalls couldn't see it. Two people shouted.

But to no avail, a few boys pushed back viciously.

After watching this for a few days, Yan Hang almost understood. The child would not resist. I don’t know if it was an illusion. He even acted calmly, as if isolating himself in another world. He couldn’t hear and couldn’t hear. I didn't feel it.

But this kind of reaction is the most irritating to the little chores. With Yan Hang's experience, they won't stop until he reacts.

As he walked and kicked to the opposite side, a boy took a glass of water from his bag and threw it on the protagonist's shoulder.

A thick cup shattered unexpectedly.

"It's a bit past today." Yan Hang said, kicking his feet lightly, and jumped off the window sill.

-Brother Xiaotian is going to make a move

-Be safe, or call the police

There were several swipes on the screen, and Yan Hang put his hand in his pocket and touched it. There was only one mask and no key.

"I don't know," he said, "I can't stand it anymore, it's too lost."

After crossing the street, Yan Hang saw the protagonist's face for the first time in a few days.

It was not an illusion, the expression on his face was calm.

Very calm and calm.

The calmness made people feel extremely uncomfortable, and it couldn't be said whether it was sadness or something else. After all, Yan Hang only had a primary school diploma and couldn't find a suitable adjective.

Half of the broken cup did not fall to the ground, and was hooked on the boy's finger by the rope on the water cup. When he raised his hand to throw half of the cup toward the protagonist's face again, Yan Hang blew a whistle.

Quite loud, besides running in a daze, Yan Hang is probably best at whistle.

Dad likes to whistle. In order to find a partner for himself, Yan Hang was trained to play a duet with him before he even went to elementary school. The two of them sat on the side of the road every day to blow to the passing girl.

The whistle drew the attention of a few small bits and pieces, and turned to look at him.

Yan Hang walked over and said nothing, put his hands on the unused bricks under the roadside tree, facing the live broadcast scene, and then put on the mouth cover. He has never shown his face in the live broadcast for so long. , Have to keep the tradition.

The screen was very lively, but he didn't have time to look at it. A few small chores had already turned around, and two of them had already walked in front of him.

"Sick?" a boy asked, staring at him.

"From today," Yan Hang pointed to the protagonist, "He is under my cover."