Hunting High School

Pingyang Mansion is a thousand-year-old town by the Fenshui River and an important town in southern Shanxi. The long history has accumulated rich resources for this land, as well as rich humanistic nutrients.

Over the past ten years, with the development of underground resources, the ancient culture that has been silent in history has gradually regained its vitality. Private schools, such antiques in the pile of old papers, have become popular again.

Sanyou Private School is such a renovated old antique.

This private school is located in a bookstore at the bottom of the street in Yunhua Community.

The name of the bookstore is Sanyou Bookstore.

Mr. Shu, also the owner of this bookstore, surnamed Wu, is short and fat, wearing a pair of round glasses with black frames, and is used to greeting people with a cupped fist, which gave him an inexplicable feeling in the whole community. Respect, known as "Mr. Wu" by everyone.

Mr. Wu's private school is very small, with only one teacher and one student.

Mr. is Mr. Wu.

The student is a boy named Zheng Qing from a resident of Yunhua Community.

Yunhua Community is a model community developed by the Pingyang Municipal Government in the 1990s. Although from the current point of view, the scale of this community is indeed small, with only nine residential buildings; but the geographical location of this community is excellent.

To the east of the complex is a bustling commercial street, across the east gate of the complex, facing the largest supermarket in the city. To the west of the community is Pingyang College, which is the only institution of higher learning in Pingyang City; to the south of the community is the key middle school in the province, Pingyang Experimental Middle School; next to the Experimental Middle School is the leading private school in the province, Jinnan Middle School. Coupled with the city's key primary school across the street, students in the unlucky community do not need to walk two streets from birth to graduation.

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Zheng Qing felt that he was only one step away from the legendary life.

The elders in Zheng Qing's family have many school teachers. My grandfather is a professor at Pingyang College, my father is a teacher at Jinnan Middle School next to the community, my mother is a teacher at Pingyang Primary School across the street from the community, and other uncles, Aunt, are also active in these teaching buildings. As long as he can remember, he has been listening to the shrill bells at school when classes start and end. A little older, he ran around the playground in several schools.

But no matter how he ran, his life seemed to be confined in this playground and teaching building.

lock up.

Holding a heavy brush, Zheng Qing wrote this word on the snow-white rice paper.

"Concentrate! Don't forget what you are here for!" The wooden ruler in Mr. Wu's hand knocked lightly on the table, making a penetrating sound.

Zheng Qing took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, tried to let go of his own thoughts, and tried his best to describe the post in front of him.

In fact, at the very beginning, Zheng Qing practiced calligraphy with his grandfather. As an old-fashioned intellectual, Professor Zheng not only has good handwriting, but also has very strict requirements on the younger generation.

Before the age of six, I memorized ancient poems and essays, from three hundred thousand, to three hundred Tang poems, and then to the words, songs, and ancient prose selected by the old professor himself. When I was learning to speak, I started to learn to recognize characters, and I started to recite classics. Zheng Qing and his other cousins ​​started a difficult and seemingly endless endorsement career under the old professor's ruler.

Day after day, no Sundays, no winter and summer vacations.

At the age of six, it is not just memorizing, but also learning to write.

From the beginning of holding the pen, one point, one horizontal, one stroke, one stroke, the dotted lines of matts are filled with Zheng Qing's boring childhood; the ink pool of the inkstone is filled with Zheng Qing's tears of suffering.

I was dragged out of bed at six o'clock in the morning on time, and began to practice morning postings. I had to finish writing fifty big characters before breakfast; Take a nap for half an hour after lunch, continue reciting and practicing calligraphy after getting up; continue reciting and practicing calligraphy after dinner. At nine o'clock sharp, Zheng Qing was rushed to bed. From this time of day until before going to bed, Zheng Qing was the happiest.

Because he can think freely, without practicing big characters or memorizing ancient prose.

But cranky, very sad.

Every time Zheng Qing fell asleep after daydreaming, Zheng Qing would always fall into a messy dream. It is like a landscape painting with splashed ink, ethereal and abstract, which makes people unable to capture it, but pursue it relentlessly.

Whenever he woke up from such a dream, he was always yelling, covered in cold sweat, and would usually be sluggish for a day or two. The family only thought he was suffering from a nightmare, so they took care of him carefully, and the corresponding homework would be relieved for a day or two.

For Zheng Qing, these days are like a holiday.

After all, the dreary days can be met but not sought after.

When Zheng Qing was relatively young, it was difficult for Zheng Qing to enter this dream, and he would only experience it once every six months. Perhaps it was a strong desire in his heart, but as he got older, Zheng Qing's nightmares became more and more frequent, and the situation gradually got worse.

At first, he just woke up yelling. Then gradually, he began to sleepwalk. Sometimes when he woke up in the morning, he would be horrified to find that he was sleeping on top of a large cabinet at home, and he had no memory of how he got up there; sometimes, he would sleepwalk to the balcony, and then Sing an incomprehensible song, and then quietly crawl back to bed to sleep; sometimes, he would touch his own brush in the middle of the night, creaking and drawing a large area of ​​weird symbols.

Along with the increasingly serious nightmare, Zheng Qing began to suffer from headaches.

At the beginning, the family thought he was trying to hide from his laziness, so they didn't pay much attention. But just to be on the safe side, I also went to a specialized hospital in the city to take an X-ray. The doctor couldn't see anything wrong, and it could only be attributed to the fact that the child was under too much pressure and needed to combine work and rest.

It wasn't until one day that Zheng Qing started banging his head against the wall to relieve his headaches, which made the family nervous. Professor Zheng went to his old classmate and took Zheng Qing to the provincial capital and the capital. He visited all the famous hospitals, but he couldn't find anything wrong, but Zheng Qing's headache symptoms became more and more serious day by day.

In the end, Professor Zheng followed the advice of his old friend and asked Zheng Qing to rest in peace and relieve his condition in a conservative way. After returning from the capital, Zheng Qing no longer needed to get up and go to bed on time, to memorize books, or to practice big characters.

But instead of making the situation better, this total relaxation made him have more frequent headaches.

At that time, Zheng Qing was eight years old.

It was also in the spring of that year that Mr. Wu brought a pair of black-framed round glasses and came to Yunhua Community. He opened this ancient Sanyou Bookstore at the No. 3 shop on the street.

Professor Zheng is an old-fashioned intellectual, and Mr. Wu from Sanyou Bookstore happens to be a well-learned cultural person. After coming and going, the two old people became close friends in calligraphy and painting.

On a certain weekend afternoon, Zheng Qing followed the old man to Sanyou Bookstore. Professor Zheng and Mr. Wu brewed a pot of tea and discussed Zhang Zhongjing's "Synopsis of the Golden Chamber", while Zheng Qing picked up a copy of "Harry Potter" and read it cheerfully.

When seeing the severe headache caused by the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, Zheng Qing seemed to empathize with him. It seemed that he also had a headache, and his mood suddenly turned bad. Sighing, closing the book, Zheng Qing shook his head, only to find that the hallucinatory headache turned out to be real.

The severe headache hit suddenly, Zheng Qing only had time to hum a "headache", then rolled his eyes, and fainted in front of the two old people, and began to twitch.