Chapter 2 Micro God

Ching Ming has passed, probably; aren't the crabapple flowers almost in full bloom?This year's solar term is naturally a little late, and the butterflies are still weak; but the bees are so tall and straight when they are born, as if the world is really sweet and gratifying.There are only three or four pieces of white clouds that are not too big and not bulky, and the swallows are just trying to nail small black letters on the clouds.There is no wind, but the willow branches seem to swing deliberately, as if teasing the greenery outside.The clear green in the field went up the hill gently, because it was frail and afraid of being tired. It seems that the higher the height, the lighter the green; there are still some streaks of more yellow than green on the top of the mountain.The trees on the mountainside look tender even if they are not green, and the blue sky behind the mountain is also warm. Otherwise, why would the geese sing and line up there?There are some shy March orchids hiding in Shiao, the leaves are not as big as the flowers.

The fragrance of the hill can only be absorbed with eyes closed, so as not to bother to find the source of the fragrance. You see, even last year's fallen leaves smell good.There are a few little white goats over there, and the sound of their barking happens to make the joy not too much, because it is a little sad.Occasionally, a small animal with no horns and beards came by. It was startled at a big rock for a while, and then ran away with its pretty little tail twitching. I was basking in the sun on the hillside, without any thoughts, but naturally some beads of poetry dripped from my heart, dripping on the green sea in my chest, there was no sound, only some smiles that disappeared before the ripples reached my cheeks; but always Didn't make a whole sentence either.In a poetic universe, even myself seems to be just a small symbol somewhere in the poem.

The more sun-dried, the easier it is, and I realize how joyful the butterfly wings are.I put my arms around my knees, moving back, forth, left, and right in the same rhythm as the willow branches. Every yellow and green leaflet on the willow branches is a small ear spoon listening to the sound of spring.Sometimes I look at the sky, ah, thank you for that white cloud, there is a little swallow beside it, it is so small that it almost merges with the blue sky, like a mole in the blue light, my heart is like Like where to fly. The path on the hillside in the distance is like a yellow line in a green province on the map.Looking down, there is a large wheat field, the terrain is getting lower and lower, it seems to flow from the hillside to the other side, until it is intercepted by a dark green pine tree, I hope there is a bay beyond the pine forest.When I stood up, I took a few steps to a higher place, and looked, no; there were some trees that were not clearly visible, and some low cottages among them;

The sound of roosters in the distance in Chunqing is a bit tragic, making me wonder whether everything in front of me is real or not. It is a golden thread made of sound between dream and reality; I suddenly seem to see a blood-red cockscomb; in my heart, the village In the house, or somewhere, there is only hope that is white, rooster. I sat down again; no, just lay down casually.There is a small slit in my eyes to collect the blue light from the sky, and the deeper I look, the higher I look; at the same time, a warm blue spot falls on my eyes that are not far away.After a while, I closed my eyes and looked at the clear sky and smile in my heart.

I didn't fall asleep, I knew it was not far from the dream, but I could still hear the calling and singing of the little bird clearly.It's strange to say that every time I'm half asleep, I don't know where that place is, but it always floats in front of my eyes like that before I fall asleep.Call it the front of the dream. This place is not very big, there are no mountains, no sea.Like a garden, but with clear boundaries.It was almost an irregular triangle, with three points immersed in flowing darkness.In one corner, I will always see it as a patch of golden and bright red flowers densely layered; without sunlight, there will be darkness behind the patch of red and yellow, but the black background makes the red and yellow deeper, just like the red and yellow flowers painted on a big black bottle. Peony is so deep that it makes beauty a little bit scary.The dark background, I understand, makes the red and yellow ones hug their own colors and don't scatter a little in all directions; besides, there is no sunlight, the colors don't fly into the air, but completely stick to the ground.I always see this piece first, and once I see it, I will know the rest without looking at it, just like once I see Xiangshan, I know where the Biyun Temple is hidden.The other two corners, on the left, are a slanted earth slope, covered with gray-purple wild flowers, with some deep strength in the ugly, or the moonlight can make the gray part more silvery, showing a poetic aura ; but I don't remember where there is a little moon.Anyway, I don't hate it either.No, I love this purple that seems to be darkened by frost, like a young mother in a dark purple robe.The corner on the right is the most beautiful, a small thatched house, in front of the door is a rose with thin vines, full of simple flowers, all of which are light pink.

If my eyes turn from left to right, gray-purple, red-yellow, and light pink, it is like turning from autumn to early spring, and the seasons are reversed; life is not only not going from prosperity to decline, but ends with roses as both fragrance and color. In the middle of the triangle is a piece of green grass, dark green, soft and thick, and slightly damp; each short leaf is straight up, as if listening to the sound of rain in the distance.Not a little wind, not a flying bug; a weird little world, where only colors live. In real experience, I have never seen such a state.But it exists forever, before my dreams.

The deep green of England, the comfrey hills of Scotland, the shadows of the Black Forest of Germany, or their ancestors, but who knows.Subtracting sunlight from the brilliance near the equator is also a bit like it, but it doesn't have rainbow-like snakes and colorful birds, forget it, anyway, I know it. How many times have I seen it.It and the mountain are high and the moon is small, and the truth is revealed. They are a pair of painting screens in my heart.But I have never been to that little room.I was either attracted by those colors and didn't move, or I walked into a dream of another color from its grass.It is a friend I often meet. We even know each other's names, but we haven't talked about them in detail.I don't know what color it is in the center, is it containing some mysterious music, I hope it is a little loud!

This time I decided to go on an adventure. When I think of rose flowers, or because I am afraid of listening to my own footsteps?The rose flower is a hint to me before and after the Dragon Boat Festival. I hope that there will be a piece of dark yellow paper with a vermilion judge printed on it somewhere in the middle of the rain bouquet of mugwort.No.I only heard the cry of the cherry in my heart.The place is so quiet. The door of the little house was closed.The windows and doors were covered with white curtains, and there were no shadows of flowers, because there was not enough sunlight.There is nothing moving inside, as if it is the birthplace of loneliness.Gently push open the door, quiet and clean both welcome me in, yes, welcome me; everything in the sky is human, if the scene outside is a ghost, I hope I don't use too strong words.

A large room was cut into two rooms, one large and one small, with curtains.The curtain is also ivory white, with little butterflies embroidered on it.There is only a long table, a small oval table, and a chair in the outside room, all of which are dark grass-colored and have not been decorated with oil.The cushions on the chair were light green, and there were some books on the table.There is a pot of small pine on the table, and two bronze mirrors, the rust color is lighter than that of the small pine.There is a small bed in the inner room, covered with a green blanket that almost hangs to the ground.A small basket with some quick-dried jasmine flowers hangs above the bed.A rectangular cattail mat was spread on the floor, and beside the mat was a pair of small green slippers embroidered with white flowers.

My heart is beating!I am by no means in a complex and brilliant poetic realm; simplicity and beauty are the tone here, and it is by no means an illusion, because I know those little green slippers embroidered with white flowers. Love stories are always ordinary, just as ordinary as spring rain and autumn frost.But ordinary people prefer to find some poetry in these ordinary things; then, most things in the world must be less colorful; poor people!I hope my story is as interesting as it should be. It was never as beautiful as that time.I say that time, because everything is beautiful at that moment in that day.The crabapple flower in her house is blooming into a big pink and white snowball; the thin bamboo along the wall has just pulled out new shoots; the sky is beautiful and sunny; her parents are not at home; the big white cat is sleeping soundly under the flower.Hearing me coming, she flew out from under the curtain like a swallow; she didn't bother to change her shoes, and a pair of small green slippers under her feet were like two tender green leaves.She likes it like the morning sun, the two apples on her cheeks are many times redder than usual, it seems that two red hearts have opened two small wells on her face, overflowing with rosy rouge springs.At that time she was still wearing long black braids.

When her parents were home, all she could do was look at me through the window, or try to smile with me as I walked away.This time, she was like a kitten meeting a playful companion; I never knew she could be so lively.When we walked into the house together, her shoulder touched mine.We were both seventeen years old.We didn't say anything, but the four eyes told each other that we were extremely happy. I love to look at the fine brushwork of a hundred birds facing the phoenix on the wall of her house; this time, my eyes can't spare it.I looked at the pair of little green slippers; she pulled her feet back, and even the roots of her ears were a little red; but she was still smiling.I wanted to ask her about her homework, but I didn't; I wanted to ask if there were any newborn kittens that were all white, but I didn't; I had too many questions in my heart, but my mouth was sealed by some kind of force, and I knew she was the same, because I saw her Bairun's neck moved slightly, as if he wanted to swallow some irrelevant words, but he was too embarrassed to say what was really worth saying. She was sitting on a small mahogany stool by the window, and the shadow of a begonia flower moved slightly on half of her face.Sometimes she looked out of the window slightly, probably because she was afraid that someone would come in.When she saw no one clearly, the shadow of the flowers on her face was soaked red by joy.She lightly touched the edge of the small stool with her hands alternately, obviously impatient, but joyfully impatient.In the end, she took a deep look at me, and said reluctantly but had to say, let's go!I have already forgotten myself, I only see, not hear, what two words come out of her mouth?But deep in my heart I guessed the meaning of those two words, because I also have that kind of concern.My heart doesn't want to move, my brain knows I have to go.My eyes fixed on hers.She wanted to lower her head, but before she lowered it, she raised it up bravely, intentionally, not afraid, ashamed but unwilling, and met my eyes. Until they lowered their heads at the same time, raised them at the same time, and looked at them that way again.Heart seems to have touched heart. I walked, very slowly, she sent me outside the curtain, with a layer of dew on my eyes.I walked to the second gate, turned around, and she had already arrived under the crabapple flowers.I floated away like a feather. In the future, there will be no such opportunities. Once, her home fell, not a very sad funeral.I spoke a few words to her under the light.She was wearing a filial piety.Putting his hands on his chest, he fiddled with the buckle of his filial piety.Standing very close to me, we can almost hear the heat spurting on each other's faces, growing with sound like the grain after the rain.However, we only said two very meaningless words, some movements of the mouth and tongue, and our hearts didn't care about them. We are both twenty-two years old, but the May Fourth Movement has not yet been born.Communication between men and women is not a common thing.After I graduated, I became the principal of a primary school, the greatest honor in my life, because she gave me a congratulatory letter.At the end of the letter was a plum blossom, and she wrote a line: Do not reply.I didn't dare to write a reply.But I seemed to have a bunch of torches burning in my heart, and I tried my best to rectify the school.I replied to her with the school finished; in my dream, she also gave me the palm of victory, that pair of jade hands with wrists! Proposing marriage is unthinkable.Many, many unconscious but powerful obstacles stand among us like a vicious tiger that only thrives on strength. There is one consolation, that the news of her engagement has never been heard by my fastened ear.There is something even better than this. I also served as the principal of a civilian school, and she did a little homework.I wish nothing more than to see her now and then.She, she knows how to avoid me is a twenty-year-old girl.She lost the innocence and liveliness she had when she was seventeen or eighteen, but increased the dignity and mystery of a woman. Two years later, I went to Nanyang.On the day I went to her home to say goodbye, she happened to not be at home.During the years in a foreign country, I had no way of inquiring about her.Direct communication is not possible.I'm sorry for indirect inquiries.Had to meet in a dream.Strange to say, the woman in my dreams is always her.The different dreams make me sometimes weep, sometimes ecstatic; the fantasy of love also has its own flavor. In my dream, she was still the same as when she was seventeen: a small round face, with a little charm in her delicate eyebrows and eyes.Not tall!Everywhere is so soft, walking very light.That long black braid creates the most fascinating back view.I also remember the way she combed her hair, but I always dream of her back with braids. After returning to China, it is natural to inquire about everything about her first.All the news is like rumors, she has been a prostitute! Even this heart-piercing news did not lessen my enthusiasm; no, I wanted to see her more, and I wanted to help her more.I'm going to her house.I no longer live there, and I only see part of the crabapple tree from outside the wall.The house has already been sold. At last I found her.Her hair had been cut and brushed back, with a big green comb at the top.Wearing a pink robe, the sleeves only reach the elbows, and those arms are no longer so flexible.The powder on the face is very thick, and there are some creases on the forehead and the corners of the eyes.But she still smiled very nicely, although there was no liveliness at all.If the powder and oil were removed, she would probably look like a postpartum sick woman at best.She never looked at me once, although she didn't look ashamed on her face, she also talked and laughed, but her heart was not in the words and smiles, as if she was completely entertaining me.I tried to ask her some questions and financial situation, but she was reluctant to answer.She was lighting a cigarette, the smoke came out of her nostrils very well, she put her left knee on the right knee, looked up to watch the ups and downs of the cigarette, very boring but obviously strong, my eyes were wet, she would not I couldn't see my tears, but she didn't express anything.She couldn't stop looking at her fingernails, and gently pushed back her hair, as if she was only living for them.She didn't tell me anything about the people in the family.I just have to go. When I came out, I told her my address, hoping that she would ask me, or order me, to do something. She didn't seem to be listening at all, she smiled and looked away, not intending to send me away.She thought I was going out, but I was standing at the door without moving, so when she turned around, we met eyes. She turned her head away with just a touch. First love is the first flower of youth, which cannot be thrown away casually.I asked someone to send some money to her, but I stayed and didn't reply. When my friends saw my misery, brows were the most betraying.They introduced their girlfriends to me in good faith, and shaking their heads with a wry smile was my answer.I have to wait for her.First love is like a baby in childhood is always the sweetest, no matter whether that baby is a cloth figure or a few pebbles.Slowly, I started to talk about her with some of my closest friends. They didn’t say anything about her in my face, but they pretended to be joking and stabbed me secretly. They thought I was too stupid, which meant that she didn’t deserve it. First love.The more they do, the stronger I am.It was she who opened the gate of my love, and I must go to the end of the mountain with her.Pity is less flavorful than love, but more human.Soon, I asked my friend to explain to her that I would like to marry her.I didn't have the guts to go myself. When my friend came back, she brought back some wild laughter from her.She didn't say anything else, just laughed wildly for a while.Who is she laughing at?Laugh at my stupidity, that's fine, aren't sentimental people always a little silly?This is enough to make people proud.Laughing at herself, it was just because she was too embarrassed to cry, and excessive sadness made people laugh wildly. Ignorance gave me some strength, and I decided to meet her myself.What I want to say is prepared in detail, and I have practiced it many times. I told myself that I can only win and not lose.She is not at home.Went there two more times and never saw him again.The fourth time I went, there was a small thin coffin inside the door, containing her.She died of abortion. A basket of the freshest roses, with tears from my heart on the petals, placed before her spirit, ended my first love and opened up the emptiness of my life.Why did she end up in this state?I don't want to ask any more.Anyway, she will never die in my heart. I was staring blankly at the pair of little green slippers, and I felt the curtain behind me move.Turning around, the little butterfly embroidered on the curtain was flying above her head.She was still the same as when she was seventeen or eighteen, and she was still so light, standing upright like a fairy flying down.I took a step back, as if I was afraid that if I moved forward, I would scare her away.During this time of retreat, she changed and became like a woman in her twenties.She also stepped back, following the wrinkles on her face.She laughed wildly.I sat on that little bed.As soon as I sat down, I got up again and rushed towards her very quickly; in this very short period of time, she changed back to her seventeen-year-old appearance.In a second, I saw the change of half of her life, she seemed not bound by time.I sat in a chair and she sat in my arms.I myself have recovered the redness on my face fifteen or sixteen years ago, I feel it. We just sat there, listening to each other's heartbeat.I do not know how long.Finally, I found the voice, put my lips against her ear, and asked: you live here alone I don't live here; I live here, she said, pointing to my heart. You never forgot me, so?I squeezed her hand tightly. When someone kisses you, I look at you in my heart! But you allow others to kiss you?I'm not a little bit jealous. Love is in the heart, lips will not be idle; who told you not to come and kiss me? Am I afraid of offending your parents?Didn't I go to Nanyang? She nodded, but she was afraid that you would lose everything, and the isolation made love flustered. She told me what happened to her before she died.In the year I went abroad, her mother died.She is more free.The flowering branches that come out of the wall will naturally attract bees and butterflies, and someone will pursue her, and she still misses me, but the flesh often has less endurance than love, and the flowers of love are not all plum blossoms.She accepted the love of a young man because he looked like me.He loves her very much, but she still can't forget me. The acquisition of the body is not the satisfaction of love, and the similar voice and appearance cannot replace the true shape of love.He became suspicious, and she admitted that her heart was in Nanyang.They both severed ties.At this time, all her father's property was lost.She must marry.She sold herself to a rich man in order to provide for her father. You don't teach to make money?I asked. I can only teach elementary school, and that salary is not enough for my father to buy cigarettes and food! We both froze.I was thinking: If I came back at that time, in terms of my financial ability, would I be able to support her father?Didn't I just stare at her selling herself? I hide love in my heart, she said, nourishing it with the food and drink earned by my body.I am deeply afraid that if the body dies, love will not exist. In fact, I am wrong; let’s not talk about this for now.He is very jealous and always follows me, no matter what I do or where I go, he always follows me.He couldn't find any flaws in me, but he felt that I didn't love him.Gradually, he turned from hating me to insulting me openly, and even beat me. He forced me to admit that my heart had other intentions.If I can't bear it, I can't take care of the rice bowl. He drove me out without even leaving me a long gown.As for me, my father still asks me for money, and I have to eat and clothe myself, and I have always been used to eating well and dressing well.In order to satisfy the flesh, the flesh must be utilized, and the body is a ready-made capital.Anyone who gives me money will buy me some muscle smile.I am good at laughing; I practice that charming smile in the mirror.The difference in the environment makes people take a step back and think that such retail sales are better than asking that rich man to take care of them all day long.On the street, how many people point to my back and sigh, but after all I am free, even proud. Sometimes I meet some women who are not beautifully dressed, and I am a little proud.I had a total of four abortions, but the pain passed and I laughed again. At first, I was quite famous, because I was a plaything of a rich mansion, and I could read a few words. People from the new school and the old school were willing to take care of me. I didn't have time to think, and I didn't even want to save a little money. Totally alive for my clothing face powder.Today's beauty is today's life.Tomorrow will take care of yourself tomorrow. When your body is tired, you only care about the stimulation in front of you, regardless of the future.Before long, this kind of life could no longer be maintained.Father's smoke is a bottomless pit.Abortion costs a lot.I didn't want to leave money before; money naturally wouldn't be left on its own.I don't even dare to keep a little boring arrogance.I have to look for money in a very low way, sometimes outright robbery.Someone pointed at my back and sighed, and I turned around and smiled at him.One abortion increases the age by two or three years.The mirror is not deceiving, I am already old and ugly.Crazy enough to make up for aging.I serve people to the best of my ability, otherwise I have no business.I sleep with the door open, I belong to the public, not to myself, and my body can be purchased at any time of the day, twenty-four hours a day.I disappeared into the sea of ​​desire.In the waking world I don't exist.I watch people frantically move on top of me, counting money on my fingers.I didn't think about it, I just figured out how to make an extra fifty cents.I don't cry, it doesn't look good to cry.Worrying only about money, not about myself. She rested for a while, and my tears have already wet her skirt. You're back!She continued: You are also in your thirties; I remember you were a seventeen-year-old elementary school student.How old are your eyes?Look at the eyes of my green slippers.However, you are more or less yourself, and I am already dead.You can continue to dream of that first love, I have no more dreams to dream.I have never doubted at all, I know that if you come back, you must want me.When I see you, I can't find myself, so what can I give you?When you don't come back, I will never refuse, no matter who I tell, I love you; when you come back, I can only laugh wildly.You didn't come back until I fell like this. Isn't this intentional to tease people?If you never come back, I always have Nanyang as my dream scene, and you always have me in your heart, wouldn’t it be beautiful?You just came back, and you came back so late But being late doesn't mean it's too late, I added. Too late is too late.I kill myself. What? I kill myself.I am destined to live only in your heart, in a poem, what difference is there between life and death?I did it myself during the abortion.With you by my side, I can't laugh anymore.Don't laugh, how can I make money?There is only one way, and the name is death.If you come back late, I will not die any longer; if I die a little later, I will lose even the hope of living in your heart.I live here, this is your heart.Here there is no sunlight, no sound, just some colors.Colors are more durable, and colors are painted into our memories.Look at those little shoes, green and some color, you and I will know them forever. But I also remember those feet.May I have a look? She smiled and shook her head. I was very determined. I grabbed her foot and tore off her sock, revealing a white bone without flesh. go!She gave me a push.From now on, you and I will never see each other again!I would like to live in your heart, I can't do it now; I would like to be young forever in your heart. The sun has slanted to the west; the wind has become stronger and cooler, and there are some dark clouds in the east.In a dream, the springtime faded a lot.I stood up and saw the dark green pine tree again.I don't know how long it has been standing.Some squirming little people came from a distance, accompanied by some unreal music.As it got closer, many white-winged birds were startled in the field, and they flew towards the mountain with wailing wailing.I saw clearly that a group of people hurried away, picking up some dust.Three or five drummers are in front, a few white-clothed ones are behind, and finally a coffin.People are also buried in spring. Scattered a handful of paper money and landed on the wheat field like a butterfly.The black clouds in the east are thicker, and the green of the wicker has deepened a lot, and the green is a bit miserable.At a loss, I only thought of those little green slippers.Like two leaves dreaming of spring on the tree of immortality.