A Lucky Coin

It was the first time that Yan Hang heard about his mother, but these things have been suppressed in my father's heart for more than ten years.

It took so long that he didn't seem to know how to express it anymore, so he could only drink continuously, and finally fell asleep on the table.

Yan Hang sat at the table, staring at a table of dishes and the empty bottle in front of his father.

This "chat for a while" didn't last half an hour in total.

But he felt very empty in his heart.

He knew that his mother was dead, but he didn't expect it to be in this way.

So suddenly, without defense, without a trace of psychological preparation, it's even like a meaningless passerby who didn't even see his face in the movie.

A somewhat too simple accident.

Except for the loved ones, more than ten years have passed, even if it is an unsolved case that has not caught the murderer, few people will remember it.

It is mentioned occasionally, and no one can understand it. There are still people in this world who have suffered heavily because of this incident for more than ten years.

After his father said about this, he was picked up by his grandmother, and when he was four years old, he was picked up by his father.

"It was almost snatched back," Dad said, "I'll just pick it up soon."

Yan Hang did not have this memory. His childhood memories are generally the same as dreams, and only a little bit can be saved only when the parents "when you were young", "when you were three years old" and "when you were five years old".

Dad had never given such a reminder, so he naturally no longer remembered it.

But Yan Hang felt that that memory was not particularly beautiful.

When talking about grandma, he even vaguely resisted the two relatives who had taken care of him for two years.

Dad didn't sleep well, he would open his eyes from time to time, glance at him in confusion, then close his eyes and continue to sleep.

Yan Hang picked up the chopsticks and ate up the cold dishes while drinking.

"Bringing up a pig." Dad said in a stare manner.

"Go back to the house and sleep," Yan Hang said, "How uncomfortable it is to sleep on your stomach."

"How nice is our prince," Dad patted his hand twice, "how nice."

"If it's all like this, don't be busy flattering." Yan Hang smiled.

"How great," Dad's voice lowered, "Let me ruin..."

Yan Hang frowned, stood up, pulled him up by the arm of his father, and put him into the room: "You sleep a while."

"Do you think I'm very selfish," Dad murmured while lying down on the bed, "I also thought about it, for my son... but I can't do it, she is right next to me... by my side……"

Dad clenched his fist and said, "I can’t hold my hands anymore...I can’t help you...I’ve been regretting it all my life. It’s fine if I didn’t know your mother. It’s fine if I didn’t get married. You said you don’t want to go to school. I'm fine without following you..."

Yan Hang sat by the bed and waited until his father fell asleep and stopped talking about it. Then he got up and turned off the lights in the house, went back to the living room, and cleaned the dishes and chopsticks in the kitchen.

Generally, when you are in a state of no mood, washing dishes and cleaning up have to be thrown away until the next day, but today's meal is really depressing, so he wants to wash it quickly to erase the unpleasant traces.

He returned to the house after taking a shower, much earlier than he fell asleep when he was asleep, but he was a little sleepy.

Maybe it was drinking. He and Dad often drank together, but they seldom drank like this. Two bottles of wine were basically consumed in less than an hour, and I was a little dizzy now.

His last sober memory was to pick up the phone and glance at the small facial expressions in the circle of friends on the first day of today.

However, he fell asleep without remembering what the little emoji was.

Yan Hang doesn't like dreaming very much. When he doesn't sleep well, he will have a lot of dreams. The mess is like watching a dozen dog blood dramas at the same time. The key is that he can't remember even one frame after waking up.

Will be very tired, as if not sleeping.

But this matter is not under his control, and even like today, he feels that he can sleep very deep at night when he closes his eyes and feels unconscious.

He was still dreaming.

An aunt, and an uncle.

Both of them seemed to be wrapped in a gray mist.

The aunt kept crying, and she would pinch his neck to cry. He couldn't hear the crying, nor did he feel the suffocation when his neck was pinched... after all, it was in a dream.

But the fear is clear.

The uncle said that I didn't want to see him at a glance, turning my head and staring at him again, I didn't want to see you at all.

Then the scene changes.

It is you who should die.

It's all broken and scattered scenes.

The swaying figure, like an inaudible sound torn in the wind, flashed through scenes like an incomplete stage play.

Everything disappeared when Yan Hang opened his eyes to clear him. The clutter that was still around for a second before he opened his eyes suddenly retreated away at the moment he opened his eyes.

It was so far away that it seemed to be a dream many years ago. The color faded, the sound disappeared, and the feeling became chaotic.

Yan Hang frowned and rubbed his eyes.

Touched the phone and glanced at the time, I got up half an hour earlier than usual.

He sat on the edge of the bed in a daze, the dreams that had faded so fast that he could blow away with a sigh made him a little dazed, and it took him a while to jump off the bed.

He ran to his father's room first with his shoes. The doors of his two rooms were not closed yesterday, just to listen to his father's movement.

There was no one in the room, and the quilt on the bed was not folded.

Yan Hang was nervous for a while, turned around and walked toward the living room, shouting: "Lao Yan!"

"The toilet!" Dad's voice came from the toilet.

"What are you doing in the toilet?" Yan Hang breathed a sigh of relief, and asked inexplicably.

"For this question, can I still eat breakfast in the toilet?" Dad said, "Do you really want me to answer truthfully?"

"What do you want to eat earlier?" Yan Hang asked again.

"Can you ask after I go out?" Dad said.

"Sorry." Yan Hang smiled and walked to the window and sat on the window sill.

This time it was earlier than usual, and I could hear the chirping of birds on the big tree outside the door.

This voice, coupled with the people coming and going before him, made him slowly relax, leaning against the window frame and staring at him.

Today I didn't see the first year passing by to school, maybe after the crab came back, he couldn't walk from here. He had to adjust the route to school according to the crawling trajectory of the crab.

"Are you going to the music festival?" Dad didn't know when he would stand behind him.

"Huh?" Yan Hang looked back at his father. "Did you say that you know the music festival where you are on the first day of the day?"

"Yes," said the old man, "take me if you go."

"Do you still want to join the fun?" Yan Hang smiled, "Then take you."

"Do I need to prepare a set of clothes that fit the theme?" Dad asked.

"Please keep your image as a normal and handsome uncle," Yan Hang said, "Furthermore, you are either wearing a school uniform or a small sports suit on the first year of the junior high school. You are too strange and I am afraid he can't handle it."

Dad smiled and squeezed his shoulder: "Son."

"Yeah." Yan Hang replied.

"I love you." Dad said.

Yan Hang was stunned and looked at him.

"Give some face," Dad snorted, "What about the response?"

"Dad, I love you too." Yan Hang said.

"Can I have baked rice earlier?" Dad said, "You get up so early today, and you can't fill the time if you don't make baked rice."

"... You asked me to cook baked rice for you early in the morning? You have to cook the rice freshly," Yan Hang glared at him, "you will do this for a long time, right?"

Dad smiled happily and sat on the sofa.

Yan Hang stared at him for a long time, and finally jumped off the window sill, took the materials from the refrigerator into the kitchen.

Dad seemed to have returned to his previous state, and the painful memories of last night seemed to have disappeared with Jiujin.

But Yan Hang did not find the ease and sudden clarity he wanted.

Are you looking for or hiding?

What do you want to do, or what have you already done?

What are those in the dream?

The answer to one question raises more questions.

And now he has no courage to ask again.

For today's self-study, the teacher came and went out after a round, and the classroom slowly became lively.

On the first day of the first day of the new year, I was lying on the table doing homework. I chatted happily with the front and back tables at the same table. The table was bumped from time to time. His handwriting was originally written like thunder. When the table shook, the thunder was almost smashed.

He raised his eyes and looked around, lowered his head and put the pen into the hole in the table, got up and walked out of the classroom.

They changed seats this week, and he changed to a position near the back door. This position was very good, and he could be silent when he entered and exited the classroom. With the blessing of the spirits, he was invisible every time he came out.

Of course, even if someone saw him, no one would care.

On the side of the teaching building is the school wall, where few people go there. He usually stays there when he comes out, sitting on a big rock that feels comfortable.

Usually in a daze, playing with stones.

Today was different. Yan Hang said that he liked the small black stone, and he would feel pressure to tie it around his ankle.

In fact, he grinds the stone when he is okay. Dad gave him a set of small tools, but his grandma sold it. Fortunately, he took out a small file and a small drill in it to play, but it was not sold. .

Now he usually repairs the details with a small file after grinding on the ground.

He has polished a lot of stones, black, white, red, yellow, flowers, round, polygonal, and flower-shaped. In fact, today’s black one is not the best-looking. He is boring. Grind it easily.

Knowing that Yan Hang liked it, he would make a more complicated shape.

Two days have passed since Yan Hang said that he liked it. Today, he has to make the little stones.

He has never left school on the road to Yan Hang's house, and has never met Yan Hang, but Yan Hang has never contacted him.

He was a little anxious in the first year of junior high. He didn't know how to maintain the relationship of "friends" because he had no experience after all.

He can only make the stone quickly, and then go to Yan Hang.

He took out a small file from his pocket, trimmed all the corners of the stone, and then took a piece of fine sandpaper and began to polish it.

Although the shape is simple and not beautiful enough, the texture of this stone is very good, it is particularly hard, and the black is very pure, and it will be very beautiful after polishing it with some varnish.

By the way, I have to drill my eyes...

The mobile phone shook in my pocket. I took out the mobile phone on the first day of the new year. I felt a little surprised. Why would anyone send messages during class time?

No one sent it to him when he was not in class.

The phone was dull for a while before opening the message to him.

It's Yan Hang.

-Are you leading the evening music festival?

On the first day of the new year he laughed. He thought that the music festival he was talking about that day was just a casual mention, but he didn't expect that Yan Hang was really going to go.

-Yeah, are you going?

-Who will you take if I'm not going?

-Shall I go to you after dinner?

-Tell your family, come and eat, my dad will go too, just leave together after eating

-it is good

Suddenly a little excitement in the first year of junior high, just like the excitement of going to a spring outing in elementary school.

Although the kid didn't care about him after eating up his fried rice.

Dad is at home today, so he can go back and talk to Dad.

Then you can hang out with Yan Hang and Uncle Yan!

Go out to play!

He can't even find a company for a walk, and now he can go to the music festival with others.

His hands tremble a little when he polishes the stone.

"Poor poor kid won't go this way after school in the afternoon?" Dad stood at the window and looked out.

"I'm afraid of encountering the washing, cutting, blowing, and punishing people who have just returned from the building next door." Yan Hang was dicing beef in the kitchen, and he would chop shrimp paste later.

"Hey," Dad sighed, lit a cigarette and continued to look outside, "So I keep saying, there are a few people who come and go, there are no stories."

"Lao Yan! The water is boiling," Yan Hang yelled, "Let's blanch the chicken wings first."

"Okay." The old man was smoking a cigarette. He just came in and then backed out. He put down the cigarette before he came in and poured the chicken wings into the pot.

"Preparations are almost done, right?" Dad asked.

"Well," Yan Hang nodded, "He will start cooking when he comes. You can eat in 20 minutes."

Dad stood next to him. After the chicken wings were blanched, he fished them out and put them in a big bowl: "Can you talk to the first day of the new year?"

"Didn't you talk to him." Yan Hang said.

"I think he's just a little kid," Dad leaned on the edge of the counter, "You guys are about the same size... are they about the same?"

"He might be fourteen or five years old," Yan Hang said.

"I see him, standing with you like a pupil." Dad smiled.

"I don't know who told the primary school students that I was one meter four." Yan Hang glanced at him.

"Keeping grudges," Dad sighed, and after thinking about it, he asked in a low voice, "Can you talk about it?"

"It's okay, it won't be cold anyway, he's funny," Yan Hang began to chop the shrimp paste, "I haven't been in contact with others so much, I haven't compared it."

Dad didn't speak, and after a while he took the pepper and looked at it: "May I help you grind the flour?"

"Yeah." Yan Hang replied.

The preparations were done, neatly stacked on the desk, Yan Hang took out his mobile phone and took a photo, which was posted on Weibo.

When I returned to the living room and sat down, Dad was watching the news again.

Yan Hang was listening to the news while watching his mobile phone. He didn't know what kind of information Dad could get from what kind of news and what kind of details.

Yan Hang didn't hear anything until the news ended and the weather forecast started.

"Why haven't you come in the first year? Didn't you come home after school and say come here?" Dad checked the time, "It's been over an hour since school."

"Yes," Yan Hang was stunned, listening to the news with his ears erected, without paying attention to the time, "I will ask him."

He sent a message to the first day of the junior high school, but almost ten minutes later, there was no reply.

Yan Hang remembered that he didn't go home for lunch that day on the first day of the first year. When he ran back, he was a little flustered and anxious. Suddenly he was worried about whether he was cleaned up by his grandma because he was not at home for dinner today.

At the thought of the white-faced old lady with earthworm eyebrows, Yan Hang couldn't help frowning.

He directly dialed the number for the first year of junior high school.

"What?" Dad looked at him.

"The message won't be returned," Yan Hang listened to the dial tone in the phone, and waited until he hung up automatically, "I won't answer the call..."

"Isn't it when I came here to run into the gangster?" Dad said.

"...It can't be such a coincidence?" Yan Hang was stunned, "He hasn't taken this path these days."

"It's impossible not to go here for dinner." Dad looked at him.

Yan Hang didn't say a word, looked at each other with his father, and the two stood up at the same time.

"I just go." Yan Hang said.

"I want to join in the fun." Dad said.

"Yan Hang," Liang Bing took the phone and looked at the screen, "Who is this person? Why haven't I heard of such a person?"

Standing in the corner on the first day of the junior high school, he couldn't bear the burning pain from the root of the ear to the neck.

"Yo," the person next to him leaned over and glanced, "Do you still know the word Nian Yan?"

"Yanzi makes Chu Chu! Haven't learned it!" Liang Bing said, "You are illiterate!"

And Yan Jidao.

On the first day of the junior high school, I guess Liang Bing didn’t know who Yan Jidao was. Yan Shu was a bit more famous. He might still know Yan Shu...

"Hey!" Liang Bing yelled, "Pretend to be the fuck and talk to you!"

The homophony of this sentence was smashed into the head of the first day of the junior high school.

The rock was not big, it was much smaller than the brick. Liang Bing didn't have any energy when he hit it, but his head still ached.

"Damn it doesn't mean playing with this guy at all," said a man leaning against the wall. "There is still a noise when throwing sandbags. You don't even hum... Are you a fucking dumb?"

wrong.

I'm fucking stuttering.

You are stupid.

"Let me hear if it sounds." Liang Bing threw his mobile phone to the ground and walked over.

I felt very distressed on the first day of the junior high school. The phone was dropped like this, and it would be a bit difficult to exchange ideas.

"Come on!" Liang Bing came over and kicked his belly.

On the first day of the junior high school, he quickly turned sideways, dropped his arm to block it, and Liang Bing kicked his arm with this foot.

"Fuck!" Liang Bing cursed, and slammed his head with a fist, "Hey!"

On the first day of the new year, he raised his arm and blocked it.

There is something in Liang Bing's hand, and it hurts when this fist hits his arm.

"You fucking keep quiet, aren't you?" Liang Bing came over and grabbed him and swiped towards the wall next to him.

On the first day of the new year, he slammed into the wall, and there was a golden star in front of him. He was hit by several punches on his stomach and back. Liang Bing struck so hard that he almost couldn't breathe.

"You," the person next to Liang Bingchong tilted his head, "Go and take off his pants. His grandmother loves shirtless, and my baby grandson must love nakedness."