Young detective case book

The seven-story tube building with mottled and faded skin still stands quietly on the corner of the street.Next to it is an abandoned factory building, leaving only ruins.The courtyard is covered with wild grass as high as half a person, and plastic bags are hung on the grass stems in a mess, like flags, shaking in the breeze.It seemed that the courtyard was extremely dilapidated and desolate.

This old city is like a condensed silhouette of slums that are gradually abandoned by modern cities.

Suye stayed in the shadow of the alley for a long time before he sighed softly, mustered up his courage, and walked slowly to the end of the alley.

For him, this alley carries the time of his childhood and youth.It bears the warmest and best memories of his family and his father's love, as well as the thickest darkness and deepest pain in his life.

Opposite Tongzilou, there is a very old elm tree.Suye has climbed up to dig out bird eggs more than once.I was also eager to roll elm coins that are as green as washing and so tender that water can be squeezed out-of course not for fun, but for more practical purposes.

Needless to say, the bird's egg is a reduced version of the egg, which tastes more tender and delicious than the egg.As for Yuqian, mix a little soybean oil, refined salt, monosodium glutamate and chopped green onion, mix it in cornmeal, knead it into a ball, put it in a place with a high temperature, and ferment it into a soft dough.Steam it in an electric pan, cut it into pieces, and eat it with pickled vegetables. The taste is amazing.

The most important thing is that rice and vegetables are saved, so it is a rare delicacy for the poor in summer.

Looking back now, between the lips and teeth, it seems that I can still feel the faint fresh and sweet fragrance mixed with the smell of green grass.

Pursing her lips lightly, Suye wearily leaned against the familiar old elm tree behind him, gnarled and cracked.Looking up at the tube building in front of me, many fragmented past events flashed in my mind one scene after another.

The current residents of this building are actually not well off.Those with better conditions have already moved away.

But that doesn't mean they're unhappy.

In the spring of City B, the sky is always full of dust and dust. If you don’t pay attention, you will get lost. But the old people still like to sit on the open space in front of the building with a small bench, knitting sweaters, playing chess, and gossip.

The summer in City B is always scorchingly hot. Adults who have worked hard all day like to sit around this old elm tree, vomit bitterness, complain and gossip, and share a watermelon soaked in cold water , Greasy and sweaty face, is a satisfied smile.

Autumn in city b is a season full of fruits.Sweet melons, crisp fruits, sour pears... A few yuan can buy most of the plastic bags. The children who don't know how to restrain themselves compete with each other, but they eat hard, and often make their teeth sour, "Ouch, Ouch! ..." screamed.

When it's time to have a serious meal, I feel a toothache when I drink porridge, and I am complained, blamed, and distressed by my parents, but I still don't have a long memory.Next time, I will eat a big meal regardless of the usual, and my stomach will be round and round.Repeatedly making simple and lovely mistakes.

City b is always covered with snow in winter.The sky is a vast grayish blue, and the ground is frozen hard, and there are cracks in all directions.The north wind was cold, and it was deadly cold.But downstairs, there will always be a group of little kids in shabby jackets, with frozen crystal frost on their eyelashes, from time to time, with two tubes of blue snot, rubbing their frozen and red hands, beating the snow. In the swirling cold wind, people build snowmen, play with sledges, beat ice monkeys, and slap beer bottle caps that are flattened on the rails... Occasionally, there are bursts of cheers or wailing, heartless happiness with.

Grandma Song, who lives in Room 103 of Unit [-], has gray hair all over her head, her waist is bent, and she struggles to walk.But I really like to serve all kinds of flowers and plants.

Every spring, she would plant rows of flower seeds in front of the building: cockscomb, chrysanthemum, cosmos, broom plum, evening primrose... They are all drought-resistant and hard-working grass flowers that are not elegant, and they are completely rare and precious. Don't get involved.But it always drives very vigorously, shaking its little head triumphantly in the rising sun and wind.

Grandma Song was also very happy, commanding her tall and stalwart son to transplant a few shrubs into an unobtrusive corner in front of the building.Since then, she has had another job. Every late autumn, when the first cold snap hits, she will make a lot of noise and ask her son to bury the roots of the shrubs thickly with the fertile black soil from Guokui Mountain more than a dozen miles away, and then properly bury them. Wrap the plants layer by layer with plastic film.

Careful and serious, it seems that he is taking care of his precious grandson.

Now, time has passed and Grandma Song passed away two years ago. What took her life was not an accident, not a disease, not an injury, but aging that no one can resist.

But the few shrubs she had carefully tended to finally grew into adults.Last summer, there were clusters of flowers that were as deep red as ink, as white as snow, and as purple as silk.

The refreshing fragrance can be smelled from afar.

Suye closed his eyes. This is the home he has lived in for 16 years. There are joys, sorrows, joys, and sorrows, and there are heart-wrenching memories of parting.

A black-brown old tree branch protruded from the side. A small dark gray snail was lying on a green elm leaf, chewing with relish, and its mouthparts could not be seen, but the elm leaf was quickly removed. Gnaw through a big hole.

Suye tore off the leaves, and the frightened snail quickly retracted its little head into the cramped shell.

In the indifferent eyes, a trace of gentleness flashed unconsciously, and Suye carefully placed the leaves on the ground.The snail shrank its body, and immediately tried its best to crawl away with its belly legs, and timidly hid under a dead leaf.

Poor, humble, fragile little life, but it also has its own, pure happiness and troubles, right?

Su Ye raised his eyes, looking at the glass window on the seventh floor that was so familiar to him.

The paint on the iron window frame has long since cracked, revealing a mottled rust color.In fact, the retaining spring inside had broken long ago, so it had to be fastened with a moso bamboo chopstick.

These, of course, he is very clear.Silently, he gradually restored the situation behind the window in his mind.

Moldy corners, old and dilapidated furniture, cracked and cheap floor tiles...and the hostess and hostess who used to be noisy inside.

The tide of memory was surging, and Suye was hit by the overwhelming sadness.

He could endure poverty, ridicule, pain...but he didn't know how to endure despair.

From the moment he saw his father's body with his own eyes, his whole world collapsed, and he could no longer see the sun, but the eternal dark night.

A gust of wind blew up and rolled up a few fallen leaves, which lightly stuck to his face, and subconsciously reached out to brush them off.Suye straightened up, exhaled lightly, and reluctantly walked towards the door of unit 3.

Having come here, he certainly does not allow himself to escape.

It is past one o'clock in the afternoon, the children are at school, the adults are at work, the elderly and young children are all taking a nap.The corridor was quiet and there was no one in sight.

Go upstairs step by step along the bumpy steps.