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"Blue Forget Me" (Author: Shen Ning) I don't know what medicine I took wrong. On a snowy day, I still drove away, perhaps because of loneliness. We are a university town in the Midwest of the United States. The town died as soon as the students left. Borrowed two sets of Jin Yong's books, a set of "The Condor Heroes" and a set of "Duke of Lushan". I read them day and night to kill time. I thought it was interesting at first, but after reading it more, I felt that it was repetitive and tasteless. I was so lonely that I went out and drove to expressway. I don't know where to go, just killing time and loneliness.
In the afternoon, I regretted it. The sky is unclear, the snow is everywhere, the village in front can't be seen, the shops behind can't be found, and the road signs are hard to recognize. I don't know where I am now. I am in a daze. I don't know what to do. Even if I turn back now, I won't be able to go home that night. Fortunately, after grinding for about an hour, I finally saw a small town. Actually, it is not a small town, but a small business district next to expressway, with several gas stations, several small restaurants, several small hotels and a large truck parking lot. For people who live on the expressway, this is a wilderness oasis.
I looked around and drove to a hotel with the brightest lights at the door and the biggest house. I know that this place is not safe enough, but I dare not try to stay in a cheap small hotel. Just then, another car came and stopped in front of me on the left. It seems that a woman got off the bus, wrapped in a coat and a headscarf, and waddled towards the hotel gate in the snow. I quickly ran a few steps, took the doorstep before her, and opened the glass door for her. A mass of high-temperature air came face to face.
Wrapped in a coat, she came up to me and whispered "thank you" in English.
I followed her into the hall and watched her standing in the middle of the hall, unbuttoning her headscarf and shaking her hair, only to know that she was an oriental girl. She stood still and looked around. When I saw the girl going to the restaurant, I walked up to her and asked her politely in English, "Excuse me, do you mind sharing a table with me?"
Her face was still mostly buried in the coat collar, and her eyes looked at me for a while. She didn't speak, nodded and followed me to a table in the corner of the small restaurant. I pulled open a chair at the table and stood behind it. I watched her take off her coat, fold it slightly and lay it flat on the back of the chair. Then I brushed my hair back a few times with my hand and shook my head hard. The long hair that had just been tightly wrapped suddenly drifted away like a fog. She stood tall and thin, with jeans and legs stretched, and a thick sky blue sweater on her upper body, which was very tight. Although the clothes are thick in winter, you can still see the curve of the chest. She leaned forward and was about to sit in the chair with her coat. I reached for her coat and put it on the back of another chair beside the table. The girl was startled at first, then turned around and smiled gratefully at me. I pushed the chair towards the table and she sat down.
I walked across the table, took off my coat, threw it on the chair with her coat and sat down. I just saw her face clearly. Maybe at my age, all girls are beautiful; Maybe there are too few oriental girls in our university. I feel beautiful every time I see it; Perhaps it is in this snowy winter wilderness that I feel cordial when I meet the familiar faces of fellow villagers. Maybe she is really beautiful. In a word, in my opinion, she is beautiful and moving.
"Are you from China?" I asked in Chinese.
She suddenly straightened up and stared at me with wide eyes. After a while, she seemed to recover and said softly in Chinese, "You, how can you tell?"
"You didn't throw your coat on the floor." I answered casually.
She looked up at me again as if she didn't understand.
"Americans like to throw their clothes on the floor." I smiled, explained, and added, "You are from the East, but you don't have the hooked nose of the Japanese, the flat cheeks of the Koreans, and the wide nostrils of the Vietnamese. Of course, the rest are all from China. "
She seemed to laugh and her mouth moved.
"Besides, such a beautiful hand-knitted sweater can only be taken out of China." I put forward another proof.
She didn't speak, lowered her head and pulled the sweater with her hand. Shit, I talk too much. This sweater must have been knitted by her mother. What I said reminded her of her homesickness and her face darkened.
I quickly asked, "Where are you going on a snowy day?"
She looked up and didn't answer.
"Excuse me, may I ask?" I said.
"From east to west." What exactly did she say?
"Are you? Yes, this road is south to north. "
"Oh, nothing, then let's go from south to north. What about you? " She asked.
"Ah, from north to south ... would you like something to drink? I will go to the end. "
"Well, a glass of soda, anything, don't lose weight. Oh, a glass of ice cream, I'm a little hungry. "
I took a tray and some things back to the table.
"Do you often drink brandy?" She took a sip of soda and asked me.
"It's too cold today. I never drink at ordinary times. " I tilted my legs to the chair next to me and leaned back. I felt very comfortable and took a sip of wine. Isn't this the same as the myth says? Sitting here on a snowy day, drinking brandy warmly, accompanying a dreamy beauty.
"How many years have you been here?" I asked.
"Four and a half years. What about you? " She asked.
"One year more than you. Learn what? "
"pharmacy."
"Institute?"
"yes. Doctor. What about you? "
"The same."
"What's the same?"
"Doctor."
There's no one in the restaurant, even the waiter has never seen it, only a pair of China students are sitting at the table by the window. The milky white screen window separates the cold snowflakes in outer space from the world of feeling. The restaurant was shrouded in dim orange light. The sweet voice of the slightly hoarse country singer flickered and jumped. The euphemistic voice of the guitar makes people tremble from time to time.
"How strange." She suddenly reached out and touched a bunch of blue flowers in the vase on the table and said, "There will be such flowers this season."
"Where there is warmth, there are flowers." I said.
She turned to look at me, then looked back at Xiaohua and asked, "Do you know what it is?"
"Don't forget me."
"What?" She turned to ask again.
"Flower name, didn't you ask?"
"Ah." She should be here.
"Are you from Beijing?" I asked.
"Yes, and you?"
"Xi is an ancient city. Do you think I look like a terracotta warrior? "
For the first time, she smiled slightly, brilliant and charming, but it was fleeting. She put her arm on the table, supported her chin with both hands and stared at the blue flower for a long time.
"Can I ask you to dance?" I suddenly asked.
She seemed to have a slight shock and turned to look at me.
In the open space between the dining tables, we shook hands slowly, but Fiona Fang only took three or five steps. She raised her head slightly and closed her eyes. The hand holding my hand, the hand patting my shoulder and the waist hugging are shaking. I pulled her closer to me with a little effort. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Behind the eyelashes, a pair of misty eyes are rippling with deep loneliness, as if telling many sad stories.
She leaned forward, put her arms around my neck and put her face on my shoulder. I put my arm around her soft waist and shook it gently. I can feel her breath blowing the hair on my collar, and I seem to hear a lump in her throat once or twice.
"I'm so tired." She said softly.
"I am in a small private university, in a big field, and there is nothing around. I am the only person from China in this town. For more than four years, I ... just want to discuss ... China people ... "
I held her tightly, and I could feel the quiver of her eyelashes. Suddenly, a drop of water fell into my collar.
I paused and then said, "This is not a happy world. However, we must carry it forward. Maybe I don't know why, but I must move on. "
I stopped talking, and I felt pain at this sermon. I gritted my teeth and decided not to talk again. I just hugged her and continued our slow pace. For a long time, I heard her weak voice: "Thank you."
We sat down again. I looked at her. She looked at the flowers.
"Can I pick one of these blue flowers to take away?"
"Of course."
"I like blue."
"It stands for eternity."
"Really?" She held hands again, propped up her chin, peeped through thick eyelashes, looked straight at me and said, "Say something more. I like to listen to your voice and your words. "
"Then let's recite the text we learned as a child." I was disturbed by her dreamlike eyes and turned my face to the ceiling, so I exaggerated and said, "Gorky's Haiyan:' On the vast sea, the wind gathers clouds. Between the sea of clouds, I defeated Haiyan, like dark lightning ...' "
"That's not what we're carrying." She said, "'On the white sea ...'"
I interrupted her and said, "I memorized Qu Qiubai's early translation. I like it better, more like poetry. Later, I criticized him and turned it over again. Let's recite Yueyang Tower. There won't be two versions. I immediately intoned, "If it rains heavily, the moon can't open, the evil wind whistling and the turbid waves emptying ... If you climb the stairs, some people will be homesick, some people will be sad, some people will be cynical and feel extremely sad." " "
Her eyelashes hung down and covered her eyes, and crystal tears oozed from the corners of her eyes. She said, "It's so sad. Just like talking about me. "
I am very proud, and the clear voice repeated: "If the spring is bright, it is calm, and the sky has ups and downs, it is the blue sky; Sha Ou Ji Xiang, swimming in the brocade scale; The coast is blue and green. Or vanish, the moon is thousands of miles away, radiant and still; What's the fun of fishing songs answering each other ... "
She raised her eyebrows, opened her eyes and looked at me with some surprise.
A burst of rock music broke her ecstatic eyes. The computer-coded music in the restaurant automatically turned into crazy noise for no reason, which disturbed our dreamlike peace.
"Go ahead, I have real music." I had a brainwave, jumped up and said to her.
The two of us put on our coats in a hurry, ran out of the door and got into my car, escaping from the chaotic shouts. I started the motor and turned on the heating, and the car soon warmed up. We took off our coats and put them in the back seat. She gave me a look at the blue sweater on Lala's body and combed her hair again. I put the CD in the record player and then press the button.
Music floated like water from the stereo speaker in the back window, and she immediately shouted, "Sarasate."
"Yes, the song of the wanderer." As I spoke, I began to flatten the backs of the two seats.
So, the two of us lay side by side in our seats, looking at the roof with four eyes and quietly listening to the sound of the violin.
There is no starlight outside the window, and the parking lot is empty. Snowflakes whirled and fell in the air. There are only two of us in the world. Minor music, sweet sadness, gently brushed our hearts. This is one of my favorite music. I often listen to it. I can recite every song, every turn and every pause. But today, at this moment, is particularly romantic. Loneliness, homesickness, snowy wasteland, fatigue, no matter what, there will be a sweet moment in life, which will make the world bright and beautiful. I thank God for letting me meet her and have the opportunity to enjoy this fascinating time.
"I remember," she said softly, "Beijing's home, narrow hutongs, gray brick walls, stone lions at the gate of the yard, tin chimneys wrapped in paper, and casserole on the stove. I remember, college students, middle school students, primary school students, those who were called names, and those who were not called names. We weren't friends at that time, maybe we didn't say a few words at all. Now I think about it, just like missing my loved ones, I am very confused. I often ask myself, why do you want to come to America? "
I interrupted her and said, "Didn't you say reciting poems? Pushkin,' If life deceives you, don't cry, don't be sad ...' "
Night filled the fields and snow covered the world. We lay with our eyes fixed on the pen, accompanied by the bitter songs of generations of wanderers, our own sufferings and our own voices. !
At the end of the piano, she asked, "Is there any China music?"
"Sure, but not a CD." I sat up and changed the tape.
"Ah, butterfly lovers." With the music, she suddenly leaned up and screamed in a low voice.
I lay down and said, "You haven't heard it for years?"
"Except in dreams ..." Her voice trembled.
I put my arm around her shoulder and she gently leaned her head against my chest.
The snow outside the car slowly stopped. Fly with me, two butterflies are on the corner, disappearing into the confusion in the distance, and a wisp of lingering. I didn't sit up and change the tape, and she didn't lift her head from my chest. We continued to hug each other silently.
The next morning, the sky was clear, the sun was red and bright, and the world was vast and fresh. Go out and get on the bus, diagonally opposite, her car is coming towards me, and a light blue Cheval is coming. She got up earlier than me. Maybe she didn't sleep last night. She stopped beside me when I opened the window. The two windows are adjacent, and her face is opposite.
"This is for you." I handed the tape of butterfly lovers out of the window.
She took it and said nothing. After a while, she looked at me and said, "Will you give me a kiss?"
I leaned out of the window and she turned to meet me. I put my lips on her soft and sweet lips. Her eyes were closed and her thick eyelashes were covered with tears.
I went back to the car. She drove away. None of us spoke. !
Far away, on the snow-covered Yuan Ye, there is a faint blue, small and falling. ...