With You

(No.158—No.161)

No.158

I woke up very early, at half past five, an hour earlier than the usual alarm clock, not at all like usual. Normally, I am happy to recognize a thief as a father in order to sleep five more minutes.

Maybe when a person really has a determination, the organs of the body are still very cooperative. After all, they are all their own, and the face that should be given is always given.

For some reason, I remembered the soymilk machine in the corner of the kitchen. This gadget has just emerged in the past two years, and my dad assigned it from his unit at the end of last year. Before the New Year, we both braved the cold wind excitedly and went to Wal-Mart to buy a pound of soybeans and other whole grains. When we returned home, I read the instructions and my dad operated and carefully made a big cup of soy milk. During the whole process, only my dad's views on the increasingly severe food safety issues upset me, but everything else was peaceful.

But because we two have no experience, I patronized and drank. When I finished drinking, when I went to brush the machine, I found that the bean dregs and everything were stuck on the cup. I brushed it for half an hour, and the triceps and triceps came out together. .

My dad is still talking about soy milk, I said you drink it, you brush it.

He didn't drink it, he was particularly lacklustre.

At this time, I ran to the kitchen and saw the white soymilk machine standing pitifully in the corner. I tiptoed it out, thinking of the soybeans and barley that Aunt Qi had bought at home, so I decided to give it a go.

It's not light yet at half past five. I wash soybeans and wash rice lightly under the energy-saving lights in the kitchen, and my heart is very calm.

I remember when we were in elementary school we learned "Work is the Most Tasteful" written by Mr. Lao She. Mr. Lao She wrote in a certain paragraph. His mother told him that the landlord’s dumplings had more meat and less meat, and our dumplings had more meat and less meat. But dumplings with more vegetables and less meat are better.

There is a question in the exercise after class, asking: "Why does Lao She's mother say dumplings with more vegetables and less meat are better?"

The answer I gave at the time was: "Because dumplings with more vegetables and less meat are inherently more delicious and not greasy."

The cross that our teacher slapped through the back of the paper, and the two prints could be found by turning ten pages of the homework book.

The correct answer is that the landlord’s dumplings are meat and noodles obtained through exploitation of the poor, while the Lao She’s family is obtained through labor, so they are more delicious. I was very dissatisfied at the time. What you eat is what you eat, and what is delicious is delicious. I don't believe that the same plate of dumplings can bite into two classes.

Of course, this kind of complaint can only be kept in my heart forever.

However, when I soaked my hand in the bean-washing basin, and the warm water covered the back of my hand, I suddenly understood why Lao She admired such simple labor. When the heart is exhausted, the body always has to do something to let it rest, but instead of letting go of the real downfalling troubles while busy.

Until I accidentally knocked off a stainless steel rice bowl.

My dad was so scared that he rushed out of the bedroom, and Aunt Qi followed closely behind. Both of them were sleepy and panicked as they were awakened.

"I want to make soy milk." I quickly explained.

My dad's expression instantly softened. Aunt Qi asked me to go back and sleep for a while. She came to cook breakfast, but I refused, saying that this was the only way to open a new chapter in my life. I used to feel complacent like this. My dad was used to it, but I never said such a lack of words in front of Aunt Qi, and my dad often appeared with Aunt Qi recently, so the daughter who said such words was in his eyes. It's really been a long time.

"Gorgeous," my dad said earnestly, "you have this heart, it's enough. Don't make soy milk, you...you should start from the rest of your life."

No.159

When I entered the classroom, there were only three people in the room, and there was a smell of instant noodles. I glanced at it, β was facing away from me sucking the noodles.

"Have you been so miserable," I asked β while putting my schoolbag, "Why eat instant noodles in the morning?"

"It's a long story." Beta got up, ate his mouth, and answered me vaguely, "I must leave home early today, so I didn't eat breakfast."

"Why?"

"Anyway, I must leave the house before my parents get up."

"But, will you still see your parents when you go home at night?"

"The two of them are flying to Beijing at noon today. There is nothing terrible at night."

"Is it because Zhang Ping visited your parents yesterday?"

Beta paused for a while, then turned and sat back in his seat: "I will tell you after I finish the noodles. We have to respect the food."

Originally, I just asked casually, but when she said that, I got really excited, and immediately rushed to her to sit down.

"What are you doing?" She glanced at me warily, and a little bit of noodles remained on her lips. "Don't gossip."

"You have made Yu Huai his mother's request to change the same table as a storytelling. Are you embarrassed not to give me an explanation?"

So, β looked at me with a rather shy expression.

When I opened my mouth, my knees were softened by fright.

"Geng Geng, what do you think of Zhang Ping?"

No.160

β has always thought that Zhang Ping is an optimistic and simple fool.

Therefore, when her eyes were dry, she lowered her head and pretended to wiping tears that her parents were ferocious and cold-blooded. Once she learned that she did not perform well, she concealed the military situation and tampered with the time of the parent meeting during their business trip. Pack a sofa.

After I listened, I just left my fingertips. Beta was indeed a serial mine this time.

She thought Zhang Ping would definitely eat this set. Unexpectedly, the other party was holding a canned bottle (after Zhang Ping broke four or five tea cups, he began to drink water from a yellow peach wide-mouth canned bottle), and watched while drinking. Looking out the window, he said faintly, Jiang Niannian, don't pretend, I didn't know to put some mustard on the back of my hand before I came here, do you despise me very much?

β Ha ha dryly laughed twice, and put down his tearful hand.

Beta’s father is from Beijing, somehow he was admitted to our city’s medical university to study, until he got his Ph.D., married a wife and had children locally, and was transferred back to a Beijing hospital with Beta’s mother in the past two years. He was just Beta’s Hukou. It has not been implemented yet. The couple's plan was to transfer her to a high school in Beijing when she was in her first year of high school, and then transfer her to a full-time student once her household registration was completed. Therefore, β's application for high school entrance examination here was misrepresented-but she was admitted to Zhenhua's self-financed student.

Zhenhua is also regarded as a famous high school in the country, at least much better than the high school that β originally transferred to borrow. So her parents acted decisively and asked her to stay with us to finish three years of high school, and then go to Beijing before the college entrance examination, just to take advantage of the Beijing college entrance examination score.

"You are also a left-behind child." I couldn't help but glance at β sympathetically when I heard it.

But after being admitted to Zhenhua accidentally, she suffered a lot. Beta is not as good as me. The speed of Zhenhua's lectures made her completely overwhelmed. When I was still fighting in the math class, Beta had already played dozens of backgammon with herself.

"I was the lucky one of SARS, if it weren't for SARS, could the test questions be that simple? How could I get into Zhenhua?"

When β said this, there was no expression of gratitude or rejoicing at all.

How do you say that? "Fortunately for the country's unfortunate poets", SARS, the catastrophe that adults talk about, seems to us like a blackout in evening self-study, breathing revelry, and many people, such as me and β, Surprisingly profited from the chaos.

None of the panic of death threatened us. What threatens us is how to survive later.

No.161

"I haven't lied about this, my parents can indeed take my skin off." Beta lowered his head and sighed.

This is true.

Beta's life is free and lonely. Her grandparents are all in Beijing, and her grandparents are in poor health all the year round, so she only gave birth to a daughter, β mother, and no relatives like aunts and uncles can take care of her. Her parents are both doctors and the work pressure in the hospital is huge, causing the couple to be very grumpy. β This hippie smiley face is cultivated since childhood, it is specially used to coax parents, by the way, to evade punishment and conceal disasters. Beta's parents don't have much time to teach their daughters carefully. Whenever they encounter something, they will just shoot the table and get angry. If parents knew that β had lied about the date of the parent meeting when they went to Beijing, and made a false note for them to fill in, it is estimated that they can’t wait to hear her charge of tampering with the ranking table, and they will have her alive. Dissected.

No wonder β wants to hire a dad in the talent market. If she performs well during the probation period, she may even push her dad to become positive.

β chugging around, after nagging Zhang Ping about her housework and thinking that she would never go to the wall, she put on an expression of "I have advanced brain cancer, what can you do with me" Staring at him.

Zhang Ping may have a headache because of her anger. He irritably pulled off the button of his collar, opened the window of the office, lowered his head and lit a cigarette.

Zhang Ping actually smoked a cigarette. When it was lit, he remembered that there was a student next to him. He said half-heartedly, "Do you mind?"

Do you mind β? Second-hand smoke is a lung cancer death decades later. If you don't smoke, you will die today.

What's more, the orange desk lamp in the office and the irritable but silent Zhang Ping made β's heart suddenly a bit strange.

β has not been a fuel-efficient lamp since childhood.

As the king of transfer, she has met and did not know how many teachers. Before confronting Zhang Ping, she had simulated many reactions of the other party, such as picking up the receiver of the office phone for fear of responsibility and saying "This is not good, you have to call your parents quickly", such as sternly and loudly. She "held the parent meeting to let the parents understand the situation. Could your parents still harm you?", for example, she smiled and comforted her, encouraging her to work hard and study hard, and her grades will always improve. Stepping out of the office, she invited her parents back from Beijing to speak...

But there will never be any teacher who listens to her nonsense about her own growth history, endures her dragging two to eight hundred thousand to say that she will go to Beijing for the college entrance examination sooner or later, and after she gave up, she irritably places a cigarette in silence. , Seems to be really thinking of a way out for this stubborn dead girl.

It seems that no one has ever wanted to stop and listen to a few serious words from her, thinking about the future seriously for her.

Zhang Ping finally finished smoking a cigarette, turned around and sat in a chair. Instead of looking at β, he kept staring at the photos pressed under the glass plate of the desk, and slowly said, "I know, you are not in a good state now. Study hard, Zhenhua’s pressure and pressure The atmosphere may be really not suitable for you; don’t study hard...Of course, we can’t do this, I just talk casually, I have to work hard," Zhang Ping smiled helplessly, cleared his throat and continued, "You know, too Sooner or later, I go to Beijing for the exam. The score there is lower than ours, and the test questions are relatively simple. But you haven't gone yet. You have to face the final exam every month. This is not good enough... Ah, right?"

β is almost full of tears.

Our parents' generation basically never experienced the painstaking process for the college entrance examination, and almost forgotten what they experienced, so they couldn't understand the children's "cannot study". In their view, if you give you a desk, chair, and a set of paper and pen, you already have all the conditions for learning. As for whether you like the teacher or not getting along with your classmates, as well as those self-esteem and resistance, all are not. reason.

And Zhang Ping understands. Behind the life of β hippie smiley, the decadence of being unable to find a direction or borrow strength, Zhang Ping is right.

"How should I put it? Let's take a utilitarian view of the three years of high school study, but it is just to get you admitted to a good university. Everything else is for nothing. Although I shouldn't tell you this as a class teacher, but you are all in your heart. There are counts. As long as you can achieve your goals, it doesn’t really matter what method you use to study, how fast your progress is, or whether your school is good or bad."

β deeply agreed and nodded like garlic.

She had thought so long ago. In fact, her parents should think so too, but they want to pester her in the details. To put it bluntly, they still don't trust her.

Or to save trouble? Because the rules are the simplest.

"You should study at your own pace slowly. There will be no second time for the parent meeting. I won't expose you this time-of course you don't sell me," Zhang Ping said sincerely. He glanced at β, "I'm the head teacher, if you do this, your parents will die."

β really burst into tears this time.

"Regardless of whether the final exam is good or not, don't lie anymore. Normally let your parents come to the parent conference. I will talk to them alone to ensure that you will not be skinned, okay?"

Zhang Ping in β's eyes wears apertures on his head, and he can say anything.

Zhang Ping waved his hand very manly: "Okay, it's dark, go home quickly. Your parents are not at home all the year round, and your grandpa and grandma are getting older, so you can grow a little bit more heartily. Teacher. Let's go."

Zhang Ping sighed, lit another cigarette, and puffed out a smoke ring at the window. β walked to the door of the office and glanced back.

Seriously, he took a look at Zhang Ping.

The white shirt that made Yu Huai and I laugh off, in β's eyes, looked so handsome.