Living Paper

nostalgia/article

"Paper stick people?"

Song Fusheng fell into memory, he held his head in both hands, his eyes were distracted, his voice mechanical, and he used this method to temporarily maintain a rational narrative.

"We... are going to do something for Xiaojie."

They obviously believe in religion, but when their son died, they hoped that he could enjoy the love of his parents and rich material life as he did when he was alive, so they found a paper-making shop.

A very expensive but very fine paper making shop.

They made everything for their son in that shop.

Song Fusheng trembled. Looking back now, that shop was different from other shops at first glance. Everything in it seemed to be specially arranged to attract them to go in.

Song Fusheng closed his eyes, he didn't want to think about it, but he still lowered his voice: "We...we bought a Xiaojie, a Xiaojie made of paper."

Huo Zhenye's face changed slightly.

Fazhou Yinqiao, Golden Boy and Jade Girl were originally the most common funeral paper horses, but Song Fusheng and his wife did not make ordinary paper sticks and burn them for their son.

They ordered a full set of funeral paper bundles, all of which were new styles, such as small mansions, cars, and toy trains. They even wanted to burn playmates for Xiaojie.

Xiaojie likes the golden retriever at home very much. He always pretends that he is a general and the golden retriever is his horse.

Out of love for her son, Mrs. Song begged the owner to tie a dog after seeing the mansion car the owner had built.

"Of course, but it will be more expensive." The man's voice should be a very young man, and he said to them while sitting in the curtain.

Money was no problem, they were willing to spend money, and received an identical golden retriever two days later.

When it squatted there, it couldn't even tell which one was alive!

Song Ying stared at the paper-made dog in a daze, then she started to cry, and the shop owner sat behind the curtain and laughed lightly: "It's not impossible to want a paper-made man."

Song Ying suddenly raised her head, wishing she could see through the curtain: "Really, is it possible?"

Song Fusheng frowned, and he put his arms around his wife's shoulders: "Yingying, we have done enough, we will have other children."

He knew that his wife had been punishing herself because Xiaojie was abducted when she went out with her, but it was not her fault, it was the kidnapper's fault.

Song Ying has been obsessed since hearing the shopkeeper's words: "There is nothing else but Xiaojie, I only want my Xiaojie."

Song Fusheng's heart softened: "Is it really possible to tie a paper man who looks exactly like our son?"

The shopkeeper was still sitting behind the curtain, only two slender hands were exposed, and those slender hands were put together: "Have you really thought about it?"

"We've made up our minds." Mrs. Song said eagerly. She was afraid that the shopkeeper would change his mind and she didn't have enough money with her, so she took off her watch and put it on the table.

A week later, they received "Jack."

"Xiaojie" sleeps in a long cardboard box. He is much smaller than the real Xiaojie, and his face is rounder, looking very childish.

The shop owner didn't draw eyes on "Xiaojie". He smiled and told them: "Don't draw eyes on it."

Song Fusheng frowned and looked at the paper figure: "This is not the same as our son." This is not Xiaojie at all, how could this be Xiaojie?

But Song Ying was completely addicted, as soon as she saw "Xiaojie", she hugged the box and didn't let go. She gently stroked the paper figurine's face: "Xiaojie, mom will take you home."

"Xiaojie" went home like this.

At the beginning, Mrs. Song just put "Xiaojie" in the room, and she hugged "Xiaojie" to express her missing, and gradually she thought that her son was still alive.

She moved out the crib, and "Xiaojie" got up in the morning and went to bed at night.

Song Fusheng can go to work normally again, and his wife can even make him black tea and bake biscuits. They seem to be living their previous life again.

One day when Song Fusheng came home, he saw that the paper figurine "Xiaojie" had eyes. His wife was holding "Xiaojie" with a happy smile on her face, and said to him, "How can Xiaojie not have eyes."

Song Fusheng thought of what the shopkeeper said, but he didn't care, it was just a paper figure, it didn't matter whether the eyes were painted or not.

The wife bought more new toys, and it seemed that Xiaojie, the paper man, could play with her.

Song Fusheng was conniving at the beginning, but his wife's spirit became better and better, and she was able to interact with people normally again, and they even went to church together again.

But slowly, Song Fusheng began to feel that something was wrong. There were toys scattered everywhere in the house, in the living room and in the garden.

The maid always said that she must have cleaned up very well, and Song Fusheng thought that the maid must be lazy.

The golden retriever General Xiaojie liked very much was also given away by his wife. She said disgustedly: "It's crazy, it doesn't know Xiaojie anymore."

The dog would keep clawing at the door of his wife's room, and as long as it could move, it would surround Mrs. Song and growl lowly at the paper doll in the cradle.

After the dogs were sent away, the maids also left one by one.

One night, Song Fusheng was awakened by a sound.

When I got up, I saw my wife and "Xiaojie" sitting on the carpet in the play room on the second floor playing games.

He felt sad at first, his wife's illness didn't get better, but got worse. He just wanted to go up to hug his wife when he heard her talking to the paper doll: "Does Xiaojie like this toy?"

"Xiaojie", nodded.

Song Fusheng was frightened and stood dumbfounded at the door. His wife turned her head and saw him, she smiled softly and sweetly, and waved to him: "Fusheng, come quickly, and see how smart Xiaojie is. He built the building blocks himself."

The building blocks on the ground are crooked, as if they were built by children.

She even said to the paper figurine, "Xiaojie, call Dad."

"Xiaojie" stood up, and it ran to the door and grabbed Song Fusheng's hand, letting Song Fusheng sit in the game room, father and mother, watching it play together.

Song Fusheng forced a smile and played with "Xiaojie" until dawn.

It's finally dawn!

His wife hugged "Xiaojie" to sleep, but he hurried to the paper making shop, he wanted the owner to take "Xiaojie" back.

But without this store, that store closed.

"Every night," Song Fusheng pulled his hair one by one, "it will come to me every night."

It is useless to close the study door, it will lie down under the door and watch you, it will even climb to the window, knock on the window, and let Dad play with it.

It has more and more demands. Although it can't speak, his wife can understand all its thoughts. For example, it wants toys and playmates.

Huo Zhenye listened silently, and asked, "Those three children, are they the playmates it chose?"

When Huo Zhenye used the word "choice", he seemed to have immediately accepted that the paper man could move and think. Song Fusheng was on the verge of collapse. Hearing that Huo Zhenye could still say this in such a calm tone, he became more sober.

He looked at Huo Zhenye with a weird look, and let out a nervous chuckle from his throat: "It wants...it wants to be a human."

Huo Zhenye was puzzled: "It wants to be a human? How can it be a human?"

Song Fusheng stopped talking, and he didn't know, but his wife obviously understood, and she brought home one after another the children born on the same day as Xiaojie.

"anything else?"

Huo Zhenye's unusually calm attitude made Song Fusheng feel better. He was finally able to confide that although his body was reaching its limit, his mental state had eased.

"Xiaojie, it sucks Aying's blood." Paper figurines don't need to eat, but his wife has already treated it as a real person. She cooks for it with her own hands and puts it on the table, hoping that her son can taste her. do the dishes.

"Xiaojie" was never interested, it was a paper man, so of course he couldn't eat, until Ah Ying accidentally cut his finger.

It looked at her mother, showing longing, and Ah Ying stretched out her finger.

Song Fusheng finally took Huo Zhenye's hand, his eyes seemed to pop out of his sockets: "Where did it go? Where did Aying go! It's not Xiaojie, it will suck her dry, please, burn it Lose."

The young man said, "If you don't want it, just burn it."

"Where is that shop?"

"It's useless, I can't find that store." Song Fusheng was still pulling his hair, "I go every day, every day, but it just doesn't open, and there is no such store at all."

In desperation he almost searched the ground, but he could not find the owner of the shop.

"Say the address."

"Sanguan Hall, No. 77."

Huo Zhenye wrote down the address, put the pen in his pocket, and said to Song Fusheng, "You should have figured out how this case will end."

Even if Song Fusheng is willing to tell the truth, no one will believe him. They will definitely say that Mrs. Song abducted the child and hid it in her attic, and Song Fusheng was either an accomplice or did not report it.

Song Fusheng has been hiding it all the time, and he is also afraid of this. If he could repent earlier, the matter would not have developed like this.

Huo Zhenye thought of Xiaokai being kidnapped, and had no sympathy for Song Fusheng, so he stood up and left the interrogation room: "Think about what you want to say."

As soon as he left the interrogation room, the big head came over: "Mr. Huo, did you find out anything?"

"No," Huo Zhenye shook the empty confession paper in his hand, "he didn't say anything."

The big head was knocked unconscious by surprise, and fortunately his head was hard, but he didn't see who hit him, so he thought it was Mrs. Song who did it.

"Boss Song means that it doesn't matter if he doesn't say anything, since everyone has been found anyway."

In fact, the case was solved, at least the children were fine.To tell the truth or not, Mrs. Song has disappeared without a trace.

The oldest child among them was already willing to speak. He was brought home by Mrs. Song. That woman locked them up, and Song Fusheng would secretly give them something to eat.

Huo Zhenye glanced at the big head: "He said that his son wants a playmate."

"Ah?" Datou opened his mouth wide. Song Mingjie has been dead for a year, and this person is indeed crazy.

"You don't believe it?" Huo Zhenye asked.

"How is that possible?" Datou covered the white gauze and almost burst out laughing.

Huo Zhenye stuffed the blank statement into his hand: "Yeah, I don't believe it either."

But journalists love stories like this best.

"Declaration" has a dedicated ghost column, which usually writes about ghosts complaining about grievances in dreams, and about judges who adjudicated wrong cases and were ordered to die.

Anyway, they are half-baked, half-baked ghost spiritual events, how can they let go of such a good opportunity this time?

The reporters all surrounded the arrest room and began to inquire about the abduction case.

Huo Zhenye left the arrest room in a hurry to go to Bai's house. This time, Bai Zhun opened the door for him. He only opened the door a crack, and looked at Huo Zhenye coldly: "Why?"

A shadow of flannel pajamas was seen through the crack of the door, and Bai Zhun deliberately threw it on the ground so that he could see it.

Huo Zhenye held back his laughter, knowing that he must be angry, it was almost night, and he still lost his temper in the morning.

But he was already prepared, he put his hand in through the crack of the door, holding the little oriole made of paper in his palm: "Look, I found Ah Chiu."

The author has something to say: Chirp: Shame on you