Doomsday Paradise

Chapter 2310 Video letter left to Lin Sanjiu (1)

I don't remember the first time I was sent back to the orphanage for any reason.

At that time, I was still very young, I had no name, let alone memory.Later, when I was a few years older, I gradually found many scars in some hidden corners of my body. They were rare in shape, not small in size, and did not hurt to the touch.They must have appeared very, very early, and it felt like my fingers and toes, something that was born with me, that was with me from the beginning of life.

When I was sent back to the orphanage for the second time, I was still called Gong Daoyi.

But I remember what happened that day.I have forgotten all the details on the way back to the orphanage; the earliest scene in my mind started when I stood at the door of the dean's office.I don't know who opened the door. I put my ears against the wall, looked up at the backs of the couple's heads in the chair, and shook slightly from side to side while talking.

"...I can't accept it..." The man called "Dad" who had been with him for more than two months lowered his voice and spoke very fast. "I am sincerely sorry...but starting today, I hope to release all responsibilities...if necessary, I will have a lawyer..."

After the dean mumbled a few words and made a mild protest, which might have been just a formality, the couple stood up, and the chairs were pushed out with a rubbing sound.

I took a step back as they opened the door and came out.

As soon as the woman lowered her head, she suddenly saw me standing by the door, she was startled, and let out a low cry from her throat——when she recovered, she seemed to have lost her composure, her face was red and white, and she turned towards me. I held out a hand.

"Sorry, I……"

However, before the hand touched me, she suddenly remembered something halfway, and shrank back, as if she was afraid of getting an electric shock; she straightened her body, staggered a step back, and was held by her husband.

The man glanced at me, said nothing, pulled his wife's sleeve tightly, turned and left.I watched their backs go away in the corridor, and heard the woman ask in a low voice: "...he won't remember the way? It's so far away..."

A healthy, well-mannered (and I'll add smart and pretty, if you will allow me to be rambunctious) boy like myself, even at the age of five or six, which is generally considered to be very old, has no shortage of people who would like to adopt me. people.

Couples, or same-sex couples who come to see their children, often take one look at me and their eyes light up.They spoke softly to me, and whispered to the nurse as they left—"How can such a beautiful child stay here at this age? Does he have a bad temper?"

Being adopted for the third time, and the last time, I knew that the dean had a long chat with the adoptive parents in his office.

"If anyone should take this child away, it must be you." The dean seemed relieved, and said, "There is no one more suitable than you..."

"I am willing to help him. The more special a child is, the more specialized knowledge is needed to raise it." The adoptive father said, "I also think that there is no one more suitable than us."

After they walked out of the dean's office, they hugged tightly for a while.

I am also very satisfied with the appearance of the adoptive parents.They were not naturally beautiful people, but their temperament, conversation, and manners were all different from other people I had seen in the orphanage at that time.My adoptive father wears gold-rimmed glasses, speaks calmly, and has leather patches on his coat elbows; my adoptive mother is tall and straight, with soft eyes, and seems to have infinite patience when talking to me.

Their house, which was also my home for the next ten years, is an old house as low-key and stable as the owner; the furniture is not gorgeous, but every piece is heavy and has been around for many years.The adoptive father is in the study downstairs, which also serves as a consultation room for receiving patients; the adoptive mother does not practice, but teaches in the same university and the same major as him.

There was never a shortage of friends, students, and patients coming and going in the house; and after I had an extra child, perhaps out of politeness, they always praised me.

"Looks like a child that God prepared for you," joked my adoptive father's old friend when he thought I couldn't hear. "It's exactly the same temperament and behavior as yours. How can the children in the orphanage have such a good education? You have put a lot of effort into it, right?"

"He is really beautiful. I rarely see such a beautiful child." A female student murmured, "When he grows up, he will break the hearts of many girls..."

"He is quite smart," the adoptive father couldn't help being proud, and said to the guests: "I did a set of children's intelligence tests for him. For a child with almost zero preschool education, his performance is very amazing."

At that time, my adoptive mother just listened with a smile on her face, and did not join in the ranks of praising me.For a while, I thought she didn't think so well of me; it was really weird, because at the orphanage, she seemed genuinely happy to take me home.

In order not to be returned again, I was doubly nice to her—what a little boy can do to win the favor of adult women, you, as a girl with both parents and no need to deliberately please, you may not be able to imagine how many things there will be.

I picked flowers from the neighbor’s house for her; when she came to check on me, I pretended to be in a daze, and called her "Mom"-this kind of address should not be used as soon as it comes up, but should be used wisely. It worked; I surreptitiously watered her green plants and potted plants, but of course, she saw it every time.

In addition to being sensible, occasional awkwardness and temper are also necessary; sometimes only my adoptive father can coax me well, and sometimes only my adoptive mother.I later quietly added some inclinations to the latter, in order to let her know how important she is to me.

As if with a little reluctance, my adoptive mother gradually became softer towards me.

"It is very likely that it was poisonous in the previous family environment, which caused the child's unstable behavior." The adoptive father once whispered to the adoptive mother at the breakfast table, "In our family environment Daoyi will naturally be guided to develop better traits. Although I don’t focus on infant psychology, the influence of the acquired environment on the critical period..."

He said a lot of professional words, and in my young ears, there were many jerky and difficult words, like passwords; judging from the look and attitude of my adoptive father, he seemed not only satisfied with me, but also with himself. satisfy.

The adoptive mother sipped black coffee, only occasionally nodding with a smile or saying "um, yes".

But nature is hard to hold back, not to mention that I was only a child under six years old at the time.I feel like I've done the best I can; yet in the eyes of an educated, professional adult, my performance may still be flawed.

There was a series of events in between, which I don't really remember very well, except here and there for an occasional instance where, for inexplicable reasons, there were scattered and lonely lights shining through the fog called childhood. Through time, it is reflected in my mind now.

One of the earliest things I can remember seems to have happened not long after I entered the house.

The adoptive parents have a small yard, where there is soil and plants, there are naturally insects and ants.I soon discovered that there was an ant nest nearby, and the ants would come in from the corner of the fence; Put down some scraps of paper containing the scraps of pastries I saved from my afternoon tea.

"I said why there are so many ants in the yard recently." After dinner one day, the adoptive father shook the newspaper and said with a smile, "So this kid has been feeding them all the time! Dao Yi, come here."

I walked over and put my hands on the arm of his armchair.

"Why did you leave those almond crumbs?" he asked with a smile, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

"Ants have something to eat, and they often come in to play." I seemed to answer like this at the time.

The adoptive father looked happier. "Isn't it interesting to observe ants? Oh, well, then Dad will buy you an ant farm. You can start from the birth of ants and study them well... As for those wild ants, they may It will affect other plants in the yard, let's not let them come for a while, okay?"

He turned his head and said to his adoptive mother, "Maybe Daoyi has a bit of scientific talent."

I also raised my head and saw my adoptive mother sitting on the sofa reading a book.The only time she wore glasses was when she was reading; at that moment, they slipped over the bridge of her nose, and the firelight in the fireplace danced on the lenses.The black eyes of my adoptive mother stared straight at me from above the lens, focused and serious, without any light of pleasure.

I suspect she had guessed something by then, though I don't know where I gave it away.

After feeding the ants for the second week, they developed the habit of always coming to a fixed location—the piece of paper I left—to look for food.

That day, I left something to eat first, and after the ants communicated with each other and formed a long, non-stop queue, I spread the superglue on a piece of paper and only wiped it halfway.On the half that didn't have glue, I generously left a couple of coconut macarons.

This will be their richest harvest so far, and it will never be able to move back home.

The super glue I found in the basement seems to be from an interior renovation, and it works really well.The ants, who are called the king of strength by the teacher, got stuck in the quagmire step by step. Their long and slender tentacles twitched outwards, making their whole bodies sway slightly, but they still couldn't move forward. Take a step back.

The sweet coconut macaron is just around the corner, on half a clean sheet of paper, gradually oiling the paper surface.

One after another, the ants were still coming, stuck to the paper one after another; they struggled very hard, and after a while, I even found many broken legs and ants on the paper. antenna.

How can I describe my mood at that time?

That was a rare and satisfying time for me; I was fascinated by the dying struggle of the ants, and forgot everything, watching the wriggling corpses on half a sheet of paper getting more and more full, just like a Ant's Hell Map Vol.If they could make a sound—

"what are you doing?"

I was so shocked that I even fell to the ground.Hanging in the air was the heavy and ugly face of the adoptive father.I found out later that one of his patients missed an appointment.

The long and dull heart-to-heart talk later, of course, I don't need to mention it.

That night, the adoptive mother was pulled into the study as soon as she got home.A mile and a half away from the thick wooden door of the study, my adoptive mother and I listened to the adoptive father's description of the ant incident in silence; what finally made me panic was the almost calm voice of the adoptive mother.

"We have been mentally prepared for a long time, haven't we?" She said slowly, "I don't need to tell you about the theory of three bench legs. Inborn defects, childhood abuse, and acquired education and environment... he We already have two of them. What we can do is to take the third—”

"What are you talking about?" her adoptive father interrupted, a little shocked.

I was outside the door, and at the same time I asked from my heart - what do you know?
"Three bench legs, that's for anti-social personality, said Yi-" the adoptive father said this, and his voice suddenly stopped.

I pressed my ear closer, wondering what they were going to do with me.

Just then, the door opened.

The adoptive mother stood behind the door, her face was turned against the light, and she couldn't see clearly in the dim light.I had never been caught before, and I backed away involuntarily, but my adoptive mother put a hand on my shoulder.

"Listen to me," she said in a low voice while pressing me while I was struggling violently, "You don't know right from wrong, it's not your fault. But I believe you can learn to distinguish right from wrong, right from wrong ...Even if you never know what guilt and remorse is, you can still make the right choice. I am here, and I will accompany you every step of the way. Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..."

　This chapter was originally thought to be placed at the end, but I thought it would be appropriate to insert it here on the spur of the moment.Maybe it will be a bit abrupt?But I feel comfortable writing it, and it feels quite right.Just visually guessing this piece of information from Gong Daoyi, it might be a bit long... After reading it, this old boy talks so much nonsense!
　
(End of this chapter)