The Bald Monk in the City

My name is Yi Chun. To be honest, this is a name that makes me feel helpless.

In fact, my mother had hired a fortune teller, and they all said that I was short of water and should have a name similar to water.

But in the end, my name was determined to be Yi Chun...

When I asked my father, what he said, "Spring, at the beginning of the year, at the end of the year, inherits the past and builds on the future." Such things are half-understandable.

But it is normal, after all, there will always be some such problems after being in the education industry for too long.

My father is an ordinary teacher, just like countless teachers in this position.

Years of education work has allowed him to write fairly good characters.

But other than that, he has nothing else to do with it.

Duties are shifted between school and family, playing the role of teacher and father.

Or, there is a husband?

I rarely see my father smile, his expression is always calm.

This is probably the only bright spot besides his unremarkable educational ability?

He doesn't like socializing, and he has no bad habits.

In his free time, he always teases the litter of tabby cats at home.

Since childhood, my father will always meet my requirements.

He has not been fierce to me, but I still fear him.

Perhaps this is because the role of the father always gives the children an invisible deterrent?

I don’t understand. Later I became a father, but I still don’t understand...

My family conditions, for this busy city, there is really nothing worth mentioning.

The hard work of my father and grandpa has only allowed our family to gain a firm foothold here.

But I still have to be busy with things that are short and sweet.

When I was young, I also had some absurd dreams.

But after experiencing something, I realized that dreams are just dreams.

When I was young, I also met girls who were beloved.

I have forgotten her name, but I still vaguely remember that she likes to wear a white dress.

Did I forget this, or did I not?

I think I don’t know, even if I’m almost walking into the grave now, I still don’t understand...

I know that many people think that I am a stubborn guy, and they even think that I am an "old tradition" like my father...

But how did they know that I, an old man, used to play a role in an online game server.

When I was in my 20s, under the introduction of my mother, I met a girl who was similar.

I think it's almost the same, then she became my wife.

At that time, I was actually not sure if I liked her.

But I really don't have the strength to struggle, I think that's it...

Later, she gave birth to a son for me.

I was very happy at that time, I was able to decide to choose a name for my son.

But obviously, my naming aesthetic is not that good.

In later days, my son also complained to me.

But I did not respond to him, because his arrival made me busier.

Work, family, I feel like a planned schedule.

It tore off page by page until the pale panel was left...

I knew I was dying, and the shouts of the doctor and my son became extremely remote.

Then, I died...

But I'm not sure, because I'm still conscious, I think I can rescue it.

If the doctor calls me a few more times, I think I might be able to say something:

"L\'mback."

But in the end, I completely lost control of my body, all-even just a finger or skin, I can no longer control them.

But I can feel that they are becoming cold over time, passing by little by little...

I am very fortunate that our family still maintains the custom of burial:

I once complained about it because it made us pay a lot of money.

But now I think cremation is actually good, but I am a traditional person.

My body is placed in the coffin, which should be rough, anyway, I don’t think it will be more comfortable than the sofa.

But fortunately, now I don’t have to worry about those...

I'm tired of their cries, and I think it's time to end this tiring life.

Perhaps the soul full of passion and drive has stayed forever in a certain youthful day.

It probably doesn’t like the life filled with firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, tea, and sour and bitter...

With the sound of firecrackers, people left.

Only darkness and worms are with me.

I heard the rustling sound next to me, and I was a little worried that it was a rat.

I started rummaging through the pieces of knowledge I had seen. I was a little worried about the fate of my body:

I don’t like eating mice, but I don’t like being eaten by them...

But at this moment, someone seemed to be approaching again.

I look at him, he looks at me...

I thought, this should be... my father? ?

"father……"

I called him, just like the joy and...unstuck when I once gave him Frostmourne as a gift.

I have never thought about becoming the Lich King, but if my father can wake me from the grave, I think I am willing.

Even being a stiff forsaken is at least better than lying in this cold tomb.

Unfortunately, he never responded to me.

I was afraid of my father, and I knew this from beginning to end.

"a hundred years……"

His voice is still like the voice that settles in my memory.

Now it sounded, and the trance went back to the past again.

His expression was as calm as he remembered, but something new seemed to flow after that calm.

I feel inexplicably that my father's mood is a bit complicated at this moment.

Is it for my death, or the death of my mother?

I don’t understand, just like I don’t understand my whole life...

Some people always say that the son is the continuation of the father's life.

But I don't think I am, because I think my father's life is independent.

Yes, this was suddenly realized during those years when I gradually felt the call of death.

In those seemingly ordinary behaviors, he always maintained a certain detached vision.

He stared at the world coldly, almost ruthlessly.

Is there such a gentleness in his heart:

I don't know whether he... ever loved his mother.

It’s like, I don’t know if I really loved my wife...

love? marriage?

I feel a little tired, these things make me feel tired.

Because ~www.readwn.com~ always longs for things that cannot be obtained, which makes life more painful.

I remember it was said in the Buddhist scriptures that this is called "please do not suffer"...

Time seemed to be getting faster, and my father was still standing there.

But the sun rose and the sunset seemed to accelerate.

I think I’m probably dying—a real, complete death...

I know that maybe my consciousness is interrupted indirectly, because the images are abrupt.

I realized that maybe every scene may be the last time I can see.

In the end, I saw my father standing there, but he was looking in another direction.

I think he might be missing his mother...

Then, I saw a ray of golden light, overflowing in my father's eyes...