A Lucky Coin

It was the first time Yan Hang had heard about his mother, but his father had kept these things in his heart for more than ten years.

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

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

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

But he felt empty inside.

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

It was so sudden, unprepared, without a trace of psychological preparation, even like a passer-by in a movie who passed by meaninglessly and didn't even see his face clearly.

A somewhat simplistic surprise.

Except for the close relatives, after more than ten years, even if it is an unsolved case where the murderer has not been caught, 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 for more than ten years because of this incident.

After his father said this, he was picked up by his grandparents, and he was taken back to his father when he was four years old.

"It's almost snatched back," Dad said, "I wish I could get it back sooner."

Yan Hang doesn't have this memory, and his childhood memories are generally like dreams, and he often has to be reminded by his parents "when you were young", "when you were three years old" and "when you were five years old".

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

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

When mentioning grandma and grandpa, he even faintly resisted these two relatives who had taken care of him for two years.

Dad didn't sleep well, and 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 his chopsticks and ate up the cold dishes while drinking.

"I have raised a pig." Dad said in a daze.

"Go back to the house and sleep," Yan Hang said, "It's so uncomfortable to sleep on your stomach."

"How wonderful our prince is," Dad clapped his hands twice, "How wonderful."

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

"How wonderful," Dad lowered his voice, "Let me ruin it..."

Yan Hang frowned, stood up, went to grab his father's arm to pull him up, and carried him into the room: "You sleep for a while."

"Are you saying I'm selfish?" Dad lay on the bed and muttered in a low voice, "I also thought about it, for my son... but I can't let it go, she is right next to me... just by my side……"

Dad clenched his fists: "Hands are all ice... I'm sorry for you... I regret it all my life. It's good that I didn't know your mother. It's good that I didn't get married. You said you don't want to go to school." It's fine if I don't rely on you..."

Yan Hang sat by the bed, and waited until his father fell asleep and stopped nagging, then got up and turned off the lights in the house, returned to the living room, packed up the dishes and went to the kitchen to wash them.

Usually, when this kind of mood is not in the mood, things like washing the 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 up quickly to erase this unpleasant trace.

Back in the house after taking a shower, he fell asleep much earlier than when he slept normally, but he was a little sleepy.

Maybe it was because of the alcohol, he and his father often drank together, but they rarely drank like this, the two bottles of wine were basically consumed in less than an hour, and he was a little dizzy at the moment.

His last waking memory is picking up his phone and looking at the small emoji in the circle of friends in the first day of junior high school today.

But he fell asleep without even remembering the little expression.

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

You will also be very tired, as if you haven't slept.

But this matter is not under his control, even on nights like today where he feels like he is unconscious when he closes his eyes, he must be able to sleep deeply.

He was still dreaming.

An aunt, and an uncle.

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

The aunt kept crying, and she would cry while pinching his neck. He couldn't hear the sound of crying, and he didn't feel the suffocation feeling when his neck was pinched... After all, it was in a dream.

But that fear was clear.

The uncle said that I don't want to see him at all, and turned my head to stare at him again. I don't want to see you at all.

Then the scene changes.

It is you who should die.

It's all broken pieces.

The swaying figure, the inaudible sound like being torn apart in the strong wind, the scene that flashed like an incomplete stage play.

Everything disappeared when Yan Hang opened his eyes, and the clutter that was still around for a second when he opened his eyes receded in the instant he opened his eyes.

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

Yan Hang frowned and rubbed his eyes.

I touched my phone and checked the time, and woke up half an hour earlier than usual.

He sat on the edge of the bed in a daze, the dreams that were so faint that they could be blown away with a sigh left him in a trance, and he jumped out of the bed after a while.

He ran to his father's room with his shoes on. Yesterday, the doors of his two rooms were closed, just wanting to listen to his father's movement.

There was no one in the room, and the quilt on the bed was unmade.

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

"Where's 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 again inexplicably.

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

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

"Can I ask after I'm out?" Dad said.

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

It was earlier than usual, and I could hear birds singing in the big tree outside the door, singing happily.

This voice coupled with the people coming and going in front of him made him relax slowly, leaning against the window frame and staring blankly.

I didn't see the first day of junior high school passing by today. After the crab came back, he probably couldn't go this way. He had to adjust the route to school according to the trajectory of the crab.

"Do you want to go to the music festival?" Dad didn't know when he stood behind him.

"Huh?" Yan Hang looked back at his father, "Did you know the music festival there on the first day of the new year?"

"Yeah," Dad said, "take me with you if you go."

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

"Do you need me to prepare an outfit that fits the theme?" Dad asked.

"Please keep your image as a normal handsome uncle," Yan Hang said, "Besides, you either wear a school uniform or a one-size-down sportswear on the first day of junior high school. You are too different. I'm afraid you won't be able to handle it if he complains."

Dad smiled and squeezed his shoulder: "Son."

"En." Yan Hang responded.

"I love you," Dad said.

Yan Hang was stunned and looked at him.

"Show me some face," Dad clicked his tongue, "What about the response?"

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

"Is it okay to eat baked rice early?" Dad said, "You got up so early today, you can't fill up the time without making baked rice."

"...You asked me to make baked rice for you early in the morning? You have to cook the rice now," Yan Hang stared at him, "You've been groping for this for a long time, right?"

Dad smiled happily and sat down on the sofa.

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

Dad seemed to have returned to his previous state, and the painful memories of last night seemed to have dissipated along with the alcohol.

But Yan Hang didn't find the relaxation and enlightenment he wanted.

Are you looking, or are you hiding?

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

What are those in the dream?

The answer to one question raises more questions.

And right now, he didn't have the courage to ask again.

Today's self-study, the teacher came and walked around and then went out, and the classroom gradually became lively.

On the first day of junior high school, he was doing his homework on the table, chatting happily with the front and rear tables, and the table was bumped from time to time. His handwriting was like a thunderbolt. When the table shook, it was almost like a thunderbolt.

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

They rotated their seats this week, and he changed to a seat near the back door. This position is very good, and he can enter and leave the classroom without making a sound. With the blessing of the fineness of 镚镚, he seems to be invisible every time he comes 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, he usually stays there when he comes out, sitting on a big rock that feels very comfortable to fart.

Usually in a daze, playing with grinding stones.

Today is different. Yan Hang said he likes the little black stone and wants to tie it around his ankle, and he immediately feels pressure.

In fact, he grinds stones when he has nothing to do, and his father gave him a set of small tools, but his grandma sold them. Fortunately, he took out a small file and a small drill inside to play with, and they were not sold. .

Now he usually uses a small file to repair the details after grinding on the ground.

He has polished many stones, black, white, red, yellow, flowery, round, polygonal, and flowery and heart-shaped. In fact, the black one today is not the most beautiful. He is bored. Grind it casually.

If he had known that Yan Hang liked it, he would have made a more complicated shape.

It has been two days since Yan Hang said he likes it, and today he has to finish the little stone.

He never went to school on the road to Yan Hang's house, so he never ran into Yan Hang, but Yan Hang never contacted him.

On the first day of junior high school, he was a little anxious. He didn't know how to maintain the relationship of "friends". After all, he had no experience.

He can only finish the stone quickly so that he can find Yan Hang.

He took a small file from his pocket, trimmed the corners of the stone, and then took a piece of fine sandpaper and started sanding.

Although the shape is simple and not good-looking, the texture of this stone is very good, it is very hard, and the black is very pure. After polishing, it will be very beautiful with a little varnish.

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

The phone vibrated in my pocket. When I took out the phone on the first day of junior high school, I felt a little surprised. Why would someone send a message during class time?

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

It took a long while for the phone to open the message for him.

It's Yan Hang.

-Are you leading the way at the music festival at night?

On the first day of junior high school, he laughed. He thought that the music festival mentioned that day was just a casual mention, but he didn't expect that Yan Hang would really go.

- yes , are you going

- If I don't go, who will you take?

-Then I'll go find you after dinner, shall I?

- Tell your family, come over for dinner, my dad will go too, just leave together after eating

-good

On the first day of junior high school, I suddenly became a little excited, just like the excitement when a child offered to be with him when he went on a spring outing in elementary school.

Although the kid ignored him after he ate up his fried rice.

Dad is at home today, he just needs to go back and tell him.

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

go out and play!

He can't even find a companion for a walk, and now he can go to a music festival with someone to join in the fun.

His hands trembled a little as he polished the stone.

"You poor little boy won't go this way after school this afternoon?" Dad stood at the window and looked out.

"I'm afraid I'll run into the scavengers who recently returned from the building next door to them." Yan Hang was chopping diced beef in the kitchen, and he was going to mince shrimp in a while.

"Hey," Dad sighed, lit a cigarette and continued to look outside, "So I keep saying, there are a few people who come and go who don't have a story."

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

"Okay." Dad had a cigarette in his mouth, just came in and backed out, put down the cigarette, and then came in again and poured the chicken wings into the pot.

"Is the preparation almost done?" Dad asked.

"Well," Yan Hang nodded, "He will start cooking when he comes, and he can eat it in 10 minutes."

Dad stood by, and after blanching the chicken wings, he took them out and put them into a big bowl: "Can you and the first day of the junior high school talk?"

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

"I think he's just a kid," Dad leaned against the desk, "you're about the same age... are you about the same age?"

"He's probably fourteen or fifteen years old," Yan Hang said.

"I think he looks like a primary school student standing next to you." Dad smiled.

"I don't know who told the elementary school students that I was 1.4 meters tall." Yan Hang glanced at him.

"Hold grudges," Dad clicked his tongue, thought for a while and then asked in a low voice, "Can we talk?"

"It's okay, anyway, he won't be cold, he is quite funny," Yan Hang started chopping shrimp paste, "I have never had such contact with others, there is no comparison."

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

"En." Yan Hang responded.

After all the preparations were done, they were neatly stacked on the desk, and Yan Hang took out his mobile phone to take a photo and posted it on Weibo.

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

Yan Hang listened to the news while looking at his mobile phone, wondering what kind of information his father could get from what kind of news and what kind of details.

Until the news was over and the weather forecast started, Yan Hang didn't hear anything.

"Why haven't you come yet on the first day of junior high school? Didn't you just come home after school?" Dad looked at the time, "It's been more than an hour since school."

"Yeah," Yan Hang was stunned, listening to the news with his ears up all the time, without paying attention to the time, "I'll ask him."

He sent a message to Chuyi, but after almost 10 minutes, Chuyi did not reply.

Yan Hang remembered that he didn't go home for lunch on the first day of the new year, and when he ran back, he looked a little flustered and anxious, and suddenly worried that he might be cleaned up by his grandma because he wasn't at home for dinner again today.

Thinking of the white-faced old lady with earthworm eyebrows, Yan Hang couldn't help but frown.

He directly dialed the number of the first day of junior high school.

"What?" Dad looked at him.

"No reply to the message," Yan Hang listened to the dial tone on the phone, and waited until the phone hung up automatically, "I didn't answer the call either..."

"Isn't it because I ran into a gangster returning to the building when I came here?" Dad said.

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

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

Yan Hang didn't make a sound, he exchanged a glance with his father, and they both stood up at the same time.

"I'll just go." Yan Hang said.

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

"Yan Hang," Liang Bing held his 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 ear root to the neck.

"Hey," a person next to him leaned over and took a look, "You still know the word Nian Yan?"

"Yanzi envoys Chu! You haven't learned it!" Liang Bing said, "You are illiterate!"

And Yan Jidao.

On the first day of junior high school, Liang Bing probably didn't know who Yan Jidao was. Yan Shu was more famous, so he might still know Yan Shu...

"Hey!" Liang Bing yelled, "What the hell are you pretending to be, talking to you!"

With the homonym of this sentence, a stone fell on the head of Chuyi.

The stone wasn't that big, it was much smaller than a brick. Liang Bing didn't use much force when he smashed it, but his head still hurt.

"It's no fun to play with this man," said a person leaning against the wall. "Throwing sandbags makes a lot of noise, and it doesn't even make a hum... Are you fucking dumb?"

wrong.

I fucking stutter.

Are you an idiot.

"Let me see if there is any ringing." Liang Bing threw his mobile phone on the ground and walked over.

I was very distressed on the first day of junior high school. The phone was dropped like this, and it might be a little difficult to communicate with each other.

"Come on!" Liang Bing came over and kicked him in the stomach.

On the first day of the junior high school, he turned sideways quickly, lowered his arm to block it, and Liang Bing kicked him on the arm.

"Fuck!" Liang Bing cursed, and punched him on the head, "Come on!"

On the first day of the junior high school, he raised his arm to block it again.

Liang Bing had something in his hand, and when this fist hit his arm, he felt a sharp pain.

"You fucking don't make a sound, right?" Liang Bing came over and grabbed him and swung him towards the wall next to him.

On the first day of the first day of the lunar new year, he slammed into the wall, and there were gold stars in front of his eyes. Immediately afterwards, he was punched several times in the stomach and back. Liang Bing struck so hard that he almost couldn't breathe.

"You," Liang Bing tilted his head to the person next to him, "Go and strip off his trousers. His grandma likes to be shirtless, and his precious grandson will definitely like to be shirtless."