Chapter 13 6 What is the universe of silkworms?

There is a symbolic dream, and that dream symbolizes a reality.Or there is a symbolic reality, and there is a dream that symbolizes that reality.The symbol is the honorary mayor of the silkworm universe.In the silkworm universe, it's no surprise that cows demand pincers.Cows will get tongs someday.This is a question that doesn't concern me. But if the cow wants to use me to get the pincers, then the situation is quite different.I was literally put into a universe that thought differently.The most nerve-wracking thing about being put into a universe that thinks differently is that the words get longer.I asked the cow: why do you want tongs?The cow replied: Because the stomach is very hungry.I asked: Why do you need tongs when you are hungry?The cow replied: Because it has something to do with the branches of the peach tree. I asked: Why is it a peach tree?The cow replied: Because I gave up the electric fan?It's endless.And just in the midst of this endless situation, I started hating cows.The cows started to hate me.That is the silkworm universe.If we want to escape from such a universe, we must have another symbolic dream again.

One afternoon in September 1978, that huge four-wheeled vehicle took me into the core of that silkworm universe.All in all, prayers were denied. After looking around for a week, I couldn't help but sigh.It is indeed worth sighing. ◇ The car stopped in the center of a small high hill.It seems that the gravel road from the car extends from the back to the front, as if it is deliberately bent, and leads to a door that can be seen in the distance.The cedar and mercury lamps on both sides of the road are arranged at equal intervals like pencil sticks.If you walk slowly, it will take about fifteen minutes to reach the door.Countless cicadas cling to the trunk of every silk fir tree, singing desperately as if the world is beginning to roll towards the end.

The outer side of the fir tree is a neatly manicured grassland. Along the slope of the hill, some gypsophila or hydrangeas or other unknown plants grow sporadically endlessly. A group of pulsatillas are like quicksand on the grass. Move from right to left. There are narrow stone steps on both sides of the hill. Going down from the right is a Japanese-style garden with stone lanterns and a pool, and going down from the left is a small golf course.Next to the golf course, there is a resting gazebo that looks like blue wine and raisin ice cream, and on the opposite side is a stone statue in the style of Greek mythology.There was a huge garage across from the stone sculpture, and another driver was hose down another car.Although I don't know the type of the car, but I can be sure that it is not a second-hand VW Beetle car.

I crossed my arms and looked around the garden again.There is nothing to say about the garden, but it is a bit of a headache. Where is the mailbox located?Just to be on the safe side, I tried to ask.Because I thought that every morning and evening someone would go to the door to get the newspaper. The mailbox is at the back door.said the driver.Of course.Of course there should be a back door. After inspecting the garden, I turned to the front and looked up at the buildings standing there. How do you say that?It is a very lonely building.Suppose there is a concept here, and of course there is a small exception here.However, as time passed, the exception expanded like a blob, and finally became another concept.Then there was a small exception. In a word, the building with this feeling also looked like an ancient creature that did not understand the goal ahead but evolved blindly.

It may have been a Meiji-style Western building at first.The classical entrance with a soaring ceiling and the cream-coloured two-story building surrounding it.The windows are tall old-fashioned double windows.The paint has been repainted many times.The roof is of course made of copper roof tiles, and the drainpipes are as solid as Roman sewers.The building is not bad.It really makes people feel something like the good temperament of the ancient times. But on the right side of the mother house, some frivolous architect added a sub-building of the same direction and color to match it.Although the intention is good, the two buildings do not match at all.It's like popsicles and cauliflower on a silver plate.Decades of time passed by without doing anything like that, and a stone tower-like thing was built next to it.On the top of the tower is a decorative lightning rod.This is the beginning of the mistake, perhaps it should be burned by the thunder and lightning.

A corridor with a stately roof protrudes from the tower and connects with the annex in a straight line.The so-called annex was also a strange building, but at least it felt a consistent theme.What may be called the opposite of thought.There is a kind of sadness in it, similar to a donkey with the same amount of feed buckets on the left and right sides, but can't decide which side to start eating, and finally starves to death gradually like that. On the left hand side of the mother house, in contrast to that, there is a Japanese-style one-story building stretching out.Hedges and well-kept pine trees, noble corridors run as straight as bowling lanes.

All in all, these buildings alone are like three consecutive films plus trailers, located on the hills, the scenery is quite interesting.If it had been planned over the years to wake someone from drunkenness or drowsiness, the attempt would have been a complete success.But of course, that doesn't make sense.When all kinds of second-rate talents produced in various times are combined with great money, such a landscape is completed. I must have spent a long time looking at the garden and the house.When I recovered, the driver was standing beside me, looking at his watch.It seems to be quite a skilled movement.I believe that every guest carried by him stood at the same place as me, looking at the surrounding scenery with the same stunned look.

If you want to watch it, please watch it slowly.He said.Because there are still about eight minutes to spare. so big.I said.Other than that I can't think of any other appropriate performance. There are three thousand two hundred and fifty ping.said the driver. It would be quite appropriate if there was an active volcano.I tried telling a joke, but needless to say, jokes don't work.No one is joking around here. Eight minutes passed like this. ◇ I was taken into a Western-style room about four pings to the right of the entrance.The ceiling is unusually high, and there is a carved edge at the boundary between the wall and the ceiling.There are solemn sofas and tables of a certain age in the interior, and there are still life paintings on the walls that should be called the ultimate in realism.Apples, vase and knife.Maybe use a vase to cut the apples, then peel them with a knife.Apple seeds and cores just need to be placed in a vase.The windows were hung with heavy drapes and lace curtains, both layers bound and fastened at the sides with neat silk cords.From between the curtains, the nicer parts of the garden can be seen.The ground is covered with a wooden floor, shining with elegant luster.The carpet that occupies half of the floor, although the color is old, but the hair roots are really very tight.

Nice house, really nice. A middle-aged maid in a kimono walked into the room, put a glass of grape juice on the table, and left without saying anything.The door snapped shut behind her.Then everything was quiet again. On the table were the same silver lighter, cigarette case, and ashtray as I had seen in the car.And each of them is engraved with the same sheep pattern as I saw just now.I pulled my filter cigarette from my pocket, lit it with a silver lighter, and exhaled smoke toward the high ceiling.Then drank grape juice. Ten minutes later, the door opened again, and a tall man in a black suit walked in.The man neither said welcome nor kept you waiting.I didn't say anything either.The man sat down opposite me silently, tilted his head slightly, as if he wanted to taste my face, and looked at it for a while.Indeed, as my partner said, men don't have so-called facial expressions.

Time passed for a while.