Chunyin

Then, Zhuang Heng sat down by the river, swung his rod and hooked, and started fishing again—but this sentence is very problematic, and there is a high probability that it contains my misunderstanding.

The two biggest problems, I'm not sure if he's Zhuang Heng, and, I'm not sure if he's fishing.

If he was Zhuang Heng—I said that after all these years he has not died and reincarnated—it is obviously impossible to still look like this at this age.And if he was really fishing, he obviously wouldn't still throw a bare baited hook that would not catch any other stupid fish except me-but such weird behavior proved to some extent that he It's Zhuang Heng.

The country is easy to change, and the nature is hard to change. No matter how many times you go through the birth, this person's ghost temper can't be changed, right?

After Zhuang Heng—let’s call him Zhuang Heng—turned his attention away, the big green carp turned over in the water without a sound, its belly turned down, its back floated up, and its gills opened and closed. After taking a few breaths, I tried and got out smoothly.

This gave me a sigh of relief.

I heard from the land lord that recently there was a little Taoist priest who just came down from the mountain and ran rampant in the mountains, catching demons and catching ghosts indiscriminately, and the countryside was very disturbed by him.The land lord commented on this: "The dog is sick with the mouse."

And told me to be careful.

This comment from Di Digong is very reasonable. When you are a human, you only see people, but you only know when you are a ghost. The feng shui and luck of a place are often affected by the joint influence of heaven, earth, people, gods, ghosts and monsters. It must be a good thing to catch and disappear.

Including me, there are many ghosts and ghosts in Menggu Mountain, but they all live in peace and tranquility. Since I became a ghost, I have never run into any Taoist priests except for occasionally frightening passers-by and being frightened by passers-by. It's also the first time I've seen the Soul Binding Technique, ah, I was really shocked--fortunately, I got out easily at this moment.

But seeing that Zhuang Heng didn't respond to me, it is basically certain that he is not the sick Taoist priest.

I sat cross-legged half a step behind him, stared at the man's motionless back, and continued to think.

Then, I found a loophole in his trance-like back: he couldn't see me, or he might be pretending to be blind.This is very possible. Turning a blind eye to me and turning a deaf ear to me was one of the methods Zhuang Heng used to keep his distance from me.

Fu Huan had a clear and sufficient reason from the beginning of his friendship with me to the end of his friendship with me, but I didn't quite understand why Zhuang Heng hated me so much until I died.

Ah, probably he saw through early in the morning that I did not agree with him.Some people just have such insight.

But I'm not really interested in this answer. The truth I have concluded from the failed life experience in my previous life is that a person's arms cannot be twisted. If there is a destined ending, it is like falling into An iron ball, from then on, everything, from a small gust of wind to a major accident of life and death, will push you to slide in that direction. Human efforts, like a mantis' arm being a cart, are better than nothing.

At this moment, Zhuang Heng is like that iron ball.He suddenly appeared here without any cause or effect, and set a fishhook trap for me, with some unknown strong purpose in him.I saw the meaning of "fate" in this kind of purpose.If his appearance is destined to have some kind of connection with me, then my thinking and testing will not change any results.

It's even more pointless to ask for a missed answer.

After thinking through all this, I stood up, brushed off the dirt and grass that didn't exist on my body, turned around and walked away.

About a hundred paces out.

Destiny took shape.

There was a slight tugging sensation on my wrist, I lowered my head and raised my hand.Wrapped around the wrist, a thin thread with a faint red light.Looking up from a distance, this red line is floating on the weedy path beside the Kushui River, extending back and forth, crossing the yin and yang of life and death, and the other end is tied to the hand of the man holding the fishing rod.

I:"……"

I won’t talk about tying it with a rope, but what does it mean to have a red thread, hey, it’s a bit misleading.

After standing there for a while, I returned to him along the original road, and found a flat place on the bank to lie down.After I became a ghost, I was very knowledgeable about current affairs, and I was too lazy to rack my brains to deal with anyone.

I lay my head on my arm for a while, counted dozens of falling apricot petals, and suddenly called him: "Zhuang Heng."

Glancing at him from the corner of the eye again, the man under the straw hat had a calm face, staring at the river with a fixed expression, without any reaction.

I got up from the ground, walked beside him, squatted down, stared at his face, and called out again: "Zhuang Heng."

There is still a drizzle in the mountains, grass, trees, insects and fish, everything as far as the eye can see is shrouded in blue, cold rain and mist, the mountains and fields are vast, extremely quiet, only the raindrops gather on the branches and leaves, far and near, bit by bit .

I think my voice is abrupt enough in this silent spring day, but after passing through the distant life and death, it falls to this person's ear, but it seems that there is only a breeze left, painless and insignificant.

"Hey." I sighed, squatting beside him and said sadly, "That's right. You should no longer be Zhuang Heng."

I turned my head to look at the fishing rod he was holding in his hand. The fishing line was hanging down into the water on a surface with sparse petals in the middle of the river.

"Why do you come here to fish?" I Xu Xu said, "Let's not talk about fish in this river, there are not even shrimps. But if you go to the wooden post at the ferry and touch it, there should be a lot of snails."

"Oh, by the way, it's for new mothers? The snails probably won't work." Thinking of this, I looked at his face again.The person in front of me is not much different from the Zhuang Heng in my memory, the corners of his lips droop slightly when he is expressionless and ignores others, his expression is cold, and he has a posture of not getting close to strangers.

Could it be that the woman who was waiting for my carp to mend her body is his wife in this life?

I remember that in the previous life, those who went to propose marriage to Zhuang Heng almost leveled the threshold of the scholar's mansion, but Mr. Zhuang Heng devoted himself wholeheartedly to academic studies and government affairs, and he failed to make a marriage agreement, which hurt Beijing. How many women's hearts—I don't know if he got married later?What kind of woman is the lady?

This is really not easy to think about.At first Zhuang Heng was still a bit popular, but later he was alone, and when no one but Fu Huan looked down on him, he walked around with a cold face all day long, and lived like an ice sculpture. I don't know what kind of person can cover an ice sculpture ?

"Ah." I suddenly thought of a possibility, and watched him take a step back—it's impossible, after Fu Huan sent me away, the two finally got married, right?

Although this idea is absurd, it seems not impossible.Fu Huan is an unruly and unscrupulous person. When the love is strong, it is like a ball of fire. Doesn't it just melt this ice sculpture?In this way, Zhuang Heng has an explanation for his dislike for me all the time.

My mood suddenly became complicated.

If this guess is true, then when Fu Huan deliberately tried to get close to me, what kind of torment did the two of them endure?

"Hey, you are really pitiful." I sighed in the Xiaoxiaochun rain, "As ignorant and stupid as I am, there are other ways to take revenge, why bother to involve yourself?"

Originally, I saw that he had been ignoring me, but when he couldn't hear me physically, I sighed casually, but he suddenly turned his head.

For a moment I was so close to his face that I was almost sure that his eyes were on me, that he could see me.

The raindrops flew obliquely above his head, and the apricot blossoms were dim.

too close.

It was the first time I noticed that despite the indifference and hostility, Zhuang Heng had a pair of extremely tender eyes, which were damp with spring moisture and showed some inexplicable pity.

I seem to have seen such a look somewhere, when I was confiscated and sent to prison, when I was visiting in prison, when I was exiled from Beijing, I seemed to have such a look looking at me from afar.

I do deserve sympathy, but the person who sympathizes with me should not be Zhuang Heng.

I didn't want to be entangled with the grievances and grievances of the previous life anymore, so I stepped back and confirmed the sentence: "Zhuang Heng?"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he seemed to be woken up suddenly, and his sight suddenly lost again.Zhuang Heng's expression was blank for a moment, then he opened and closed his lips slightly, and said two words very softly: "Let's go."

He got up, quickly put away the fishing rod, carried the bamboo poles on his back, walked through the weeds covered with rainwater on both sides of the path, kicked the long gown that was always mottled in the rainy season, left the ferry, and went to the mountains. .

The umbrella was still held up strangely, and the other half was left empty under the umbrella, as if waiting for someone to fill it up.

The author says:

"Fishing" in various senses.