Two unrelated youth

She was just 20 when she married him. He, on the other hand, was two years older than her father.

Such a union, of course, has few blessings. Her father had already ranted and disowned her. The mother could not help it, and when she got married, she called her, but she was too crying to say anything. His two children, not only did not come to his wedding, they met on the road and did not even say hello. Bathed in the river of love, she and he did not feel how much sorrow. As usual, she wore colorful hair, wore a backpack with cartoon bears on it, and nipped on delicate cucumbers for beauty treatment. He is a famous professor in the university, she just because she failed to enter the ideal university, willfully came to this school to do a waiter. He said he wanted her to go to graduate school with him, and she felt free, so she started taking his classes.

Once, he talked about Zhu Ziqing, mentioned the famous "Back", said that father's love is a kind of thing that grows in the blood, unless the father is no longer in the world, otherwise his love for his children will never stop. When she heard it, she thought of her father, who had almost thrown himself out of the house, and of him, who was becoming increasingly cold to his heartless children, and felt that this was a fallacy, or duplicity. How can fatherly love be born and accompanied by each other? She stubbornly wanted to interrupt him and ask him to understand, and he had always been obedient to her in class, but he did not lift his head, and gave her a sentence: Time will tell you.

They had their first quarrel when they got home. When the quarrel was over, the man, who looked like her father, stayed alone in the study and did not pay any attention to her. She heard him talking to someone on the phone, in a cautious voice, as if he was begging for something. She secretly picked up the extension and heard him say, "Son, are you all right in school?" Dad misses you, really, in my dreams. Have you put on weight again? Don't try to lose weight. Fat makes a girl look good. Have you written to your brother recently? He has a bad stomach. Remember not to let him eat anything too oily or salty. I put another three thousand dollars on your card, remember not to be too thrifty, not enough to call me...

The end that has been silent, suddenly a very strange girl opened his mouth: uncle, you have something to call directly to the next door. Don't forget to call us again, you said so many things at once, let us tell her a little trouble oh...

She was at a loss for a while, in his "thank you", it suddenly dawned on him: he had used this way of deliberately playing wrong again and again to let his children know that a father does not expect their forgiveness, but hopes that his deep fatherly love, they can know.

A few days later she received a call from her mother, who sent her the freshest peaches for her to taste. She and her mother chattered about trifles, but there was always something strange about the light and heavy breathing on the other side. When her breathing became heavy again, she suddenly asked: Mom, what happened to your throat? There is a familiar and strange voice: huh? She was suddenly stunned, but her father, listening to her phone at that end!

Peaches are grown at home. When she was born, it was the peach blossom, and her father moved a small peach tree from elsewhere, saying that he wanted his daughter to grow according to the beautiful peach blossom. In the twinkling of an eye, it has been 21 years, and the peach trees still bloom beautiful flowers and bear sweet fruits in the yard every year, but she was driven out of the small yard by her father and refused to go back.

The peaches sent by the express are still full and tender. She picked them out one by one and put them on the plate, and when she picked the last one, tears welled up. On the biggest and reddest peach, there are several bright red words engraved: Xiao Ai, 21 years old. Every year, take the best peach engraved on her age, and make her a "longevity peach", almost became a habit of my father. Never thought, such a habit, after she ruthlessly hurt her father, the father, still remember; And so seriously, the love that has been precipitated by time, as in the past, engraved to her.

She finally understood his words: Time will tell you. It really is time.

In a small garden, I met an old man walking. His face, not too much sadness, expression is a little sad, after those who wear fashion, always a little envy, quietly take a look. His skin, from years of work, was rusted like the bark of a tree. And the unique clothes wrapped around the thin skeleton, will be his incompatibility with the city, set off more clearly.

That is a high school uniform. From the side, I could see the small words "Yucai Middle School" written on the chest. This is obviously his secondary school grandson discarded do not wear the school uniform, his life is simple, can not see waste, a few words, he picked up and put on the body. Perhaps the family will feel wrong, say a few words to him, but he turned a deaf ear, it seems that this uniform, than the son bought a brand-name suit, let him feel more comfortable.

The original owner of the school uniform, when it was a little boy who loved comics, because of the blank space behind it, painted a pair of small people holding hands, close together, flying next to a line of lovely color characters, saying: I want to be with you forever. Want to think of the old man's grandson, must be in love with a girl in the heart, and unusually bold in the school uniform revealed. And the old man must not understand these, school uniforms here in him, just a can avoid the cold clothes, and, is a piece should not be abandoned to waste the beautiful clothes.

Think of their youth, the most hate the big ugly school uniform, no other students have the courage to draw their favorite patterns on the school uniform, or write the motto of faith, you can make the school uniform become alternative some; Nor did he have the courage to give his parents extra money to buy a favorite cotton skirt, so he had to wear it grievously every day, like a wild cat that had been excluded and lost, walking around humbly.

So when I graduated from middle school, I almost molted, couldn't wait to escape from the school uniform, and never moved it again. And mother is from now on, sentimentally attached to my blue and white school uniform. She wore it to work in the fields, went out to buy vegetables, argued with people about some trifles on the way, or fell asleep in the fields because she was tired. Sometimes my brother would laugh at her, saying that she was my alumnus, and that she was far more loyal and loving to the school than I was, and could wear her school uniform for a few years without getting tired. Mother always smiled, said: what a good clothes, strong, dirty, wear never distressed, wild, not delicate.

But I felt inferior because of it. I remember meeting my teacher on the road. I quickly looked my mother up and down with the teacher's eyes, and then my face flushed. For the first time, I found my mother wearing a school uniform, in the eyes of passers-by, like a silly student, and with a rustic gas. Before, the school uniform on her body, but a barely decent clothes, but at that moment, I have a glimpse of the school uniform funny and embarrassing.

I believe that the teacher must have seen my embarrassment, so it was only a simple greeting, then leave. And the mother, but did not know to catch up, nagging: your teacher does not like me, or think I have a smell of sweat, why did not say a few words to go? I walked quickly ahead, ignoring my mother and leaving her far behind. That kind of mixed humbleness, shame, and pain of the girl's mind, to this day, is still clearly remembered in my heart.

Later, I walked out of the town, and with unremitting efforts, I could earn money to buy brand-name clothes for myself and my family, but my mother, who had never stopped working, locked the clothes I bought for her in a box, and continued to wear school uniforms, walking around in the noisy streets of the town. Only, this time the school uniform was abandoned at home by his younger brother who had just studied at university.

In the bustling city where I live, I often catch a glimpse of adults in school uniforms. They pull a cart full of fruit, ride three wheels full of goods, or stand in the wind at the intersection to sell, or at night to serve you a bowl of steaming wontons. Those who are thrown away by their children's retirement school uniforms, wrapped in their bodies, like the autumn wrapped in golden corn.

I know that in this city, there are many children like me, walking in the bright tall buildings. I also know that when our wings, across the high branches, but will not forget, the sight of gentle and painful, caress the earth, wearing our abandoned school uniforms, bowed walking fathers.

Chen and I have only met once, and at that time was still ignorant of the similarities between us. But she's my own sister. I do.

That was in the mid-eighties. After giving birth to two daughters in a row, the mother finally got tired of one more girl after another. The girl, in her mother's arms, did not even eat a mouthful of milk, and was carried away silently by a strange woman, stepping on the bleak and thin moonlight. I did not understand the sorrow of adults at that time, seeing the mother in recuperation, eating fragrant eggs, I did not feel the flow of saliva. When my mother saw this, she always sighed, beckoned me to sit on the edge of the bed, and gave me the eggs one by one. When I eat happiness, I always ask: Where did that little sister go? Mother is always vague, said, of course, is to go to her most wanted to go home. This answer does not satisfy me, what I need is a detailed description, like the clear background on a transparent candy wrapper, or the fragrance of rice cake in the air; And the mother can give, is just an autumn day fell the branches of the leaves, bare, cold, dim.