A man walked past me, although just passing by but I noticed him. A black dress wrapped around the body, thick eyebrows, large eyes, a high nose, and two angular lips is the five features that added a lot of points.
I met him again one day by chance, and I hurriedly asked for his name and contact information from the person around me who seemed to be unable to see his face. Thankfully, I got his name and contact information. I was immersed in joy when I looked at him: he was like a character from a comic book, handsome in an extraordinary way. Probably he felt my gaze and turned his head to look at me, an untamed posture plus his face wicked smile prompted me to shyly lower my head.
After that, we slowly got to know each other, and I found out that he was not the bashful about everything look that he showed every day. "It's just that no one understands me," he said. The phrase "no one understands" speaks to his heartache and helplessness. I instinctively wanted to comfort him, but then I thought, what qualifications do I have, just to be a listener?
"The fact is that you have to sacrifice so much of your time to listen to him talk about those trivial things," a friend said. I said, "because I like it". It is just a simple four words but blocked in the throat, buried in the heart.
It has been so long since then. I still listen to him tell me his story. Occasionally I would go to him to tell him what happened in my day, happy or sad, and also spend his birthday with him. That day, we still said a lot of things, the difference is that this time the words feel a bit melodramatic, but every melodramatic word is put off by jokes.
When it comes to the word red beans, some stories, I still know. My first acquaintance with the red bean was in Wang Wei's poem, "The red bean grows in the south, a few branches in spring; may you pick them all, this thing is the most lovesick!" This is an ancient poem about longing, and I like it very much. Did Wang Wei ever come to Suzhou? Has Suzhou considered the southern country? Is there a red bean tree in Suzhou, and can I pick a red bean too?
Suddenly these questions come to mind. .... The old poem of red beans, plus Wang Fei's "red beans", Lin Xi's lyrics, all this imagery together, as if I saw on that summer night also Wang Wei of the Tang Dynasty, Hong Kong Lin Xi, plus the 2006 summer Suzhou me, all of a sudden those stories of love combined, regardless of time and space, geographical, suddenly feel quite a lot up. I think the region may not be a barrier to feelings, Suzhou and Hong Kong, these two distant and unfamiliar cities, in this night, in the poetry and songs. On the contrary, the distance brings people closer to each other's hearts. On a night, Hong Kong and Suzhou, two places, two stories of people who have not felt the tenderness of a person, full of love, all come out. In my story, the red bean is the love of the moonlit night in Kunshan, the red bean is the ignorant pursuit of two young people, and the red bean is some of her greetings between my tossing and turning trains, in my mind, she also looks like that day, appeared again, the blackness of the night is also all my thoughts.
After that, we will still talk a lot, and will also joke to make each other laugh, but no one to mention those sensational words. It may be clear in your heart: like do not necessarily have to be together.
After a while, he asked me out as usual. The difference is that this time I told myself it was goodbye. "I may not come back this time I'm gone, can you go see me off?" he said. He said. I didn't say anything and silently lowered my head.
The alarm clock went off and I put on my clothes and went out. Yes, he was leaving today. He saw me appear and hugged me.
"The alarm clock went off and I woke up from my sleep with red eyes. The scene kept coming back to me: the sun was shining, the breeze was not dry, I met him, and I just happened to have a smile in the corner of my eyes.