Home Categories romance novel Doomsday and Grim Wonderland

Chapter 30 Pit at the End of the Thirty Worlds

When I woke up in the morning, I felt that everything that happened in the forest seemed like a dream.But it can't be a dream.The old accordion curled up pitifully on the table like a weakened little animal.Everything is real: the fans spinning with the underground wind, the young administrator with a sad face, and the collection of various musical instruments. Yet another unreal voice kept ringing in my head, and it seemed to keep stabbing something deep into my head, the sound endlessly stabbing a flat thing into my head.The headache is not painful, perfectly normal, it just seems unreal.

I looked around the room from the bed, and found nothing particularly mutated.The ceiling, square walls, slightly deformed floor, and curtains are all the same as yesterday.There are tables.The desktop has an accordion.Coats and scarves hang on the wall.Gloves stuck out of the coat pocket. Then, I carefully tried to move my body.All parts move freely.Nothing suspicious. Even so, the flat voice still kept ringing in his head.The sound is mixed, and several homogeneous sounds are intertwined, which is very irregular.I tried to figure out where the sound was coming from.But no matter how hard you listen, you can't tell the direction.As if from his own head.

Just to be on the safe side, I got out of bed and looked out.Only then did I understand the cause of the sound: in the open space below the window, three old men were digging a big hole with a shovel.The sound is made when the tip of the shovel bites the frozen ground.Because of the tense air, the voice trembled so strangely that it baffled me.All kinds of strange things came one after another, and the nerves were somewhat hyperactive, and this may be one of the reasons. The hour hand was approaching ten o'clock.This is the first time to sleep at this time.Why didn't the colonel wake me up?Except when I had a fever, he woke me up at nine o'clock more often than not every day, and brought into the room a basin containing breakfast for two.

Until half past ten, the colonel still hadn't appeared.Helpless, I went to the kitchen below to get bread and drink by myself, took it back to the room and ate it alone, maybe because two people had breakfast together for a long time, I always felt that eating it was boring.I only ate half of the bread and left the rest for the unicorn.Then he sat on the bed with his coat around him and waited for the fire to warm the room. Sure enough, yesterday's fabulous warmth disappeared overnight, and the room was filled with stagnant and cold air as before.The surrounding scenery has completely returned to its original appearance in winter, with snow-laden clouds hanging over the sky between the North Mountain and the wilderness to the south.

In the open space in front of the window, the four old men were still digging holes. Four people? When I saw it just now, it seemed that there were only three people. It was three old people digging the pit with shovels.But now there are four people, and one person must be added halfway. It is not surprising that there are countless old people in the official residence.The four old men were digging holes under their feet in four positions.The occasional cold wind suddenly lifted the bottoms of the old people's thin coats.But the old people didn't seem to take it seriously, their cheeks were red, and they touched the ground with their shovels one after another.Some even sweated and took off their coats.The outer shell of the coat, like a cicada, hangs on the branches and sways in the wind.

After the room was warmed up, I sat on a chair and picked up the accordion on the table, slowly expanding and contracting the bellows.I took it back to my room and found that it was much more delicate than the impression I had in the forest.Although the keys and bellows are completely worn and faded, the paint on the xylophone plate has not peeled off at all, and the delicate cloud-shaped pattern around it is also intact.Rather than a musical instrument, it is more like an art craft.Although the expansion and contraction of the bellows is a bit stiff, it does not affect the use.It must be because it has been left there for years and no one has touched it.As for who has played it before, and how to get there, I have no way of knowing, everything is a mystery.

Not only the exterior decoration, but also the accordion is very elegant in terms of the performance of the instrument.Not to mention anything else, first of all, it is small and exquisite.Folds up, it fits completely in a coat pocket.However, the performance of the instrument has not been sacrificed, and it has everything that an accordion should have. I stretched and stretched several times.After being familiar with the expansion and contraction of the bellows, he pressed the right piano button in sequence, and the left and right chord buttons at the same time.When all the sounds came out, I stopped and listened to the surroundings.

The sound of old people digging a hole is still ringing.The sound of the four shovel tips gnawing on the frozen ground merged into a chaotic rhythm, which poured into the room very vividly.The wind sometimes blows the window sash.The snow-stained slopes can be seen outside the window.I don't know if the sound of the accordion reached the ears of the old people.Probably not.First, the sound is low, and second, it is against the wind. Playing the accordion has been a long time ago, and it is a new keyboard style.So it took a long time to get familiar with the old-fashioned structure and sequence of buttons.Due to its small size, the buttons are also small and closely spaced.It's fine for women or children, but it's far from easy for a man's big hands to play freely.What's more, you have to effectively control the bellows while paying attention to the melody.

Nevertheless, after an hour or two, I managed to play a few simple chords with precision.But the melody can't emerge anyway.I pressed the keys over and over again, trying to recall sounds that resembled the melody, but all I could think of was a meaningless list of scales that couldn't bring me into the musical realm.From time to time, the accidental combination of several sounds makes me think about it suddenly, but it is a pity that it is swallowed up by the air without a trace. I think that the reason why I can't find any melody may have something to do with the sound of the old people's shovels.Of course it doesn't stop there.But it's also true that the noise they make prevents me from concentrating.The sound of the shovel hit my ears so clearly that I began to vaguely feel that the old people were probably digging holes in their own brains.The harder they dig, the faster the blank space in their heads expands.

Near noon, the wind became more and more fierce, and mixed with snow particles, the snow particles hit the glass windows, making a dry crackling sound.Then the small white grains that became as hard as ice fell on the window lattice and spread out irregularly, and were blown away by the wind after a while.Although it is not snow that can be accumulated, it will soon become a damp and soft snow ball, as always.Then the earth was covered in silver again. Hard snow particles are generally the prelude to the coming of heavy snow. However, the old people continued to dig holes, and it seemed that they didn't care about the snow at all, and they didn't even know that it was falling from the sky.No one looked up at the sky, no one stopped, and no one opened their mouths.The clothes hanging from the branches were still in place despite the strong wind.

The number of elderly people has increased to six, and the last two have been added using pickaxes and wheelbarrows.The old man with a pickaxe jumped into the pit to dig out the hard ground, and the person pushing the cart used a shovel to shovel the excavated soil into the cart and push it to the slope to unload it.The pit was dug to waist depth.No matter how loud the wind was, it could not eliminate the sound of his shovel and pickaxe. I gave up the idea of ​​playing, put the accordion on the table, and went to the window to watch the old people's homework for a while.There doesn't seem to be a commanding character at the job site.Everyone works equally, and no one dictates.The old man with a pickaxe effectively destroyed the permafrost. The four old men dug out the pit with shovels, and the other one silently pushed the cart to transport the soil to the hillside. While watching the digging time quietly, I began to have a few questions.First, it is too big to be a garbage pit, so it doesn’t need to be that big; second, it is about to snow.It may be used for other purposes is also unknown.In any case, the snow will undoubtedly be blown into the pit, and the pit will probably be buried without a trace tomorrow morning.And the old man knew this clearly when he saw the cloud situation. The snow that kept falling had already sealed the waist of Beida Mountain, and the mountainside was vaguely discernible. After thinking about it like this, I still couldn't understand the meaning of the old people's homework, so I went back to the stove and sat down on the chair, looking at the red coal flames without thinking.I thought I might never remember the song again.Whether there is a musical instrument is the same thing.No matter how well the sound is produced, it will be nothing more than a list of sounds if it does not form a tune, and the accordion on the table is nothing but an exquisite object.I seem to understand what the administrator at the power station is saying.He said: There is no need to make a sound, just looking at it is enough to make people tempted.I closed my eyes and continued to listen to the sound of Xue hitting the window sash. At noon, the old people finally stopped their homework and returned to the official building.All that was left on the ground were shovels and pickaxes thrown away. I sat down on a chair by the window and looked at the empty pit.As I watched, the big colonel next door knocked on the door of my room.He was still wearing the heavy overcoat, and the work hat with the brim was pulled down.The coat and hat were covered with a thick layer of white snow particles. Looks like there will be a fair amount of snow tonight.He said, bring me lunch? Of course that's good.I said. Ten minutes later, he returned with the pot in both hands and put it on the stove.Then, one by one, hats, coats, and gloves were removed as carefully as a crustacean sheds its shell with the seasons.In the end, he stroked his criss-crossed white hair with his fingers, sat on the chair and sighed. I'm sorry I couldn't come to breakfast.The old man said that he had to do things early in the morning and had no time to eat. Could it be digging a hole? Digging?Ah, you mean the pit.That's not my job.Although I don't hate digging.As he said that, the senior colonel started giggling, and was working in the town. After the pot was warmed up, he divided the food inside into two plates and put them on the table.Boiled noodles with green vegetables.While blowing, he ate with relish. What is that hole for?I asked the colonel. Do nothing.The old man put the soup into his mouth, they were digging pits for digging pits.In this sense, it can be described as an extremely pure pit. Puzzling. It's very simple, they just want to dig a hole.Besides, there is no purpose to speak of. I chewed the bread, thinking about this so-called pure pit. They often dig pits, the old man said, probably for the same reason that I am obsessed with chess.Meaningless and homeless.But it doesn't matter.Because no one needs meaning, let alone looking for a destination.In fact, each of us is here to dig a pure pit separately.Behavior without purpose, effort without progress, walking without direction Don't you think that's fine?No one hurts anyone, and no one is hurt by anyone; no one chases anyone, and no one is chased by anyone.No wins, no losses. I seem to understand what you said. The old man nodded his head a few times, and poured the last bite of noodles from the plate into his mouth. In your eyes, perhaps several conditions in this town are unnatural.But it is natural for us.Natural, pure and serene.I think one day you will suddenly realize it, and I hope you will.I have sent off long years as a soldier.That's all, I don't regret it, after all, I am enjoying myself.Now I still sometimes think of the gunpowder smoke, the blood, the shadow of swords and swords, and the sound of charging horns.But what drives us on the battlefield is impossible to remember.Including reputation, patriotism, fighting spirit, hatred, etc.Maybe right now you are worried all day long because of the loss of your heart, and I am also worried, there is nothing to be ashamed about.Having said this, the Colonel paused for a moment, looking at the room as if looking for words.But once you lose your mind, peace comes instantly.Don't forget that there is a deep sense of peace that you have never experienced before. I nodded silently. By the way, heard about your shadow in town.The old man dipped the bread into the noodle soup and said, I heard that your shadow is quite listless.I almost vomited up everything I ate, as if I had been bedridden for three days.Maybe soon.If you don't mind, go see him once, okay?The other party probably wants to see you too. Yes, I'm pretending to be confused, I don't care, but will the gatekeeper allow me to see it? Of course it is allowed, the shadow is about to die.I have the right to see the shadow, this regulation is clear.For the town, the death of a shadow is a solemn and solemn ceremony, and no gatekeeper can stop it.There is no reason to hold back either. Well, I'm going to meet you right now.After a while, I said. Yeah, that's right.As he said that, the old man leaned over and patted my shoulder, and went before it was dark and snowed.In any case, shadows are the closest thing to people.We must be considerate of his mood, so as not to leave regrets, and let him die more comfortably.Maybe you will be sad, but it is for yourself after all. I totally get it. After all, I put on my coat and wrapped my scarf.
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