Silence

The golden pen has only been loaned out once, to Yang Fen for his college entrance exams.

His father stood outside the examination hall, standing quietly in the crowd, smiling, watching him.

Without waiting for his father to ask, Yang Fen answered loudly: Don't worry, I did well in the exam, I used a gold pen to take the exam!

The crowd surged by, a huge number of candidates, like a flock of sheep out of the pen.

In the noise, someone glanced at the child with his head held high, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Don't worry, I'm not embarrassing you!

Some people look at him in surprise, then cover their mouths and laugh: this guy, test crazy? The company's main business is to provide a wide range of products and services to its customers.

......

On the night of filling out the college entrance examination, his father came over and stood happily behind him. The father pointed to the gold pen on the wall and indicated that he should fill it in with the gold pen.

Yang Fen said: No need dad, I've already filled it in with a carbon pen.

The father's hand froze at one side for a long time, and then looked at the volunteer list.

The first volunteer on the paper, Yang Fen did not have time to reach out to cover it: it was Jilin, not Xinjiang.

The first thing that my father mentioned was that he wanted him to stay in Xinjiang in the future.

The father did not say anything, he was always silent.

Yang Fen could not stand it and tried to explain.

Ma Shi filled in the volunteer farther ...... he would like to stay in Xinjiang, but his father forced him to enroll in the University of Jiangsu, his father said: our generation can not go out of Xinjiang, your generation how to go out, go and do not come back, stay in Jiangsu to live well, and the next generation does not come back... ...

Ma Shi cried, and his father scolded him for his lack of ambition, saying that he had shined his shoes for so many years.

Yang Fen argued: "Dad, if I stay in this kind of place for the rest of my life, like you guys, can I have any success? Can you realize your ideal?

He argued: ...... you did not say, whether you have no success, I have to have success!

No one argued with him.

The father turned around and walked away without a sound.

Is he going to continue his book manuscript that will never be published? I don't know. The small restaurant behind him, can not hear the rustling sound, can not smell the black brick tea mixed with the fragrance of Mohe smoke.

Yang Fen exam to Jilin City, North China University, 5000 kilometers from home.

The night before the trip, he unpacked the long-packed luggage, his eyes were burned for a second, and a corner of the luggage, lying in the familiar cloth bag, which is the gold pen. The light in his parents' room was black, silent, and quiet. He slept early today, his father should have slept heavily, and not a single snore could be heard.

Yang Fen sat down at the small dining table, the 15-watt bulb above his head was dim, the quartz clock was ticking, and the gold pen in his hand was glowing with hot light.

Yang Fen said that for the first time in his life, he suddenly wanted to find some wine to drink that night when he was 18 years old.

I quietly pushed open the door and walked far out along the dark road.

A small store at the end of the street that was about to close, the store he stole from as a child, so many years later, the goods inside are still lackluster.

The store is small, only beer, the big Usual of life.

When paying he stayed for a moment, his pockets were empty, not a dime, he had not had pocket money for a long time.

Father's correspondent's fee, has not been received for a long time ......

The shopkeeper was in a hurry to close and urged him to settle the bill, and was in a daze when a hand stretched out from the side and pressed on his shoulder.

The person should be an acquaintance of my father, he said to the shopkeeper: a bottle of ouzo, I'll buy.

The hand on his shoulder was big and heavy, and the man said: "You got into college, right? Old Yang is worth it, gave birth to a good son ......

The first time I saw the man, I was in the middle of a fight.

The first time I drank a life-threatening big wuss, it turned out to be so bitter, too bitter, from the mouth to the heart while walking and drinking, has been drinking to a small hill outside the city.

Half of the wine is still left, hands up high, slowly pouring to the soil, arm up, the bottle far away, and throw away.

The remnants of the wine foam splashed all over the ground, the bottle of wine bones rolling, rolling out a series of crunching.

He shuddered a little, turned around, tripped on his feet, and hit the ground hard like a facing pocket.

The soil is very pleasant, the face does not hurt, and he did not rush to get up, clutching two pieces of grass, after a long time lying on his back, asleep.

The night before 11 o'clock, not far from the small town is already dark, the sound of bottles rolled far away, this quiet breathless place.

Early morning home, a head of dew, pick up the luggage and leave, a man walking.

The gold pen he did not take, hung back on the wall, pen pouch folded a piece of paper, the rest of my father's manuscript paper.

On the paper is a neat line of words: goodbye dad, I'm leaving.

Gone, gone, the T69 train drove a long time, sunrise and sunset, and finally drove out of the vast Xinjiang.

The front is the Gansu border, behind is the hometown is gradually far away, the hometown from now on is far away.

The gold pen, my father wanted him to take away, of course, he knew.

Leaving that gold pen, what will be his father's reaction?

He does not know, and will never be able to know.

......

The gold pen was not put in the box by the father, the father did not wait outside the examination room, and the father did not stand by when filling out the volunteer.

The night before he left home, he picked up the first bottle of wine in his life, went to share it with his father, and then slept next to him.

The head pillow is the father's grave, both hands clutching the grass of the grave.

My father died a few years ago after a long illness.

He was buried on a small hill in the city of Qinghe.

Some years ago, my father stood by the hill and said to Yang Fen: ...... No matter where you are born, you have to be a person of great success.

He said: no matter whether I have made a difference ...... you have to make a difference!

Some years later, the father lay there, cloaked in dew covered with frost, watching the Altai flying snow roaming the sky, watching the Ulungu River vapor rising.

In his last words, he refused to return to his original home, and only asked to take away all the books and articles.

No piece of paper was left behind, and the ashes were buried with him.

Where does the fog rise, the frontier of the frontier?

The mercurial and relentless frontier is also a foreign land and a homeland.

My father and a whole generation of frontier reclaimers lie in silence together.

Silent, turning earth into the mud, in this enigmatic place, quietly waiting to be forgotten by the world.

......

The railway track is no longer straight and begins to slowly meander. Lord of the Rings Novel

The scenery of the mountains and landscapes flying outside the window gradually became more and more different from the hometown.

A just-adult Xinjiang son doll, pressed his face against the cool car window, teeth clenched, eyes closed tight, crying like a son of a bitch.

What's wrong? The soul was dragged away like, the heart was plucked away like.

This breath in the throat, why is bitter and hot?

Dad, I'm leaving now.

Dad, as soon as I left Xinjiang, I realized that you had left my side.