On his birthday, Sakurahara got a brand new coat. It was a trench coat, pure black, angular lines, large and shiny buttons, and two metal rings at the waist, allowing the belt to pass through and adjust the width and narrowness of the waist. Isn't it a bit too exaggerated, Sandwon does have such worries. But at the same time, his heart was racing and he wanted to wear it immediately.
He put it on and stood in front of the mirror detailing. He deliberately did not look at his own face, but only at the appearance of a trench coat propped up by his body. Sure enough, wearing it on the body and hanging deflated on a hanger or flat on the bed, looked completely different. The trench coat in the mirror reminded him of the gangsters in the TV series. When he was in elementary school, for a long time, the TV was full of police films, and the most attractive thing to him was often the handsome villain in the play. Their ultimate fate is predestined (arrest or death), but this does not seem to affect Therahara's involuntary substitution of feelings, and perhaps it is precisely this that produces a sense of tragedy.
Children always love acting, imagining themselves as different images. Slowly, as they grow up, they find themselves living only one life, often fraught with boredom and frustration. No one can be as meaningful as almost every minute and every second of the TV series. Although at that time, he already had some questions: what would those characters do outside the plot? After all, the plot is always constantly pushing, eliminating a lot of irrelevant things. But his own life could not be omitted for a minute.
Putting on this coat, Itahara seems to have entered some plot. Some things can be omitted for the time being. Homework left by teachers, 800-meter running tests, intermittent quarrels between parents, and so on. Everything that bothered him was the past and the future.
He was only in his second year of high school.
From junior high school to high school, the original "sense of first birth" soon disappeared. He was discouraged to realize that although he had entered the new school, he was no different from his previous self. He thought he could go up the ladder with age and experience. In other words, "become a better person", at least change the image of yourself in the eyes of your classmates. In the beginning, he did, and people saw a sand plain who was active in learning, polite, and not humble. But after a little longer, those disguises fell off one by one. He realized that his acting skills were not good. People still see the real sand plain: indecisive, almost cowardly, sensitive and introverted, and not very physically good.
However, he felt that these were not entirely his responsibilities. Parents, the first teachers who influence their children, must also take responsibility. He learned early on about the influence of family on children's personalities. His parents themselves were of that character: indecisive, almost cowardly, sensitive and introverted, and not very physically fit. He just inherited such family genes.
From preschool to elementary school to junior high school, he was somewhat unsociable. Grades are medium. Always alone and easy to overlook. He wasn't very upset about it, just a little sorry. Countless times in his fantasies, he imagined himself being shot several times and falling in a fierce hunt. The man with the gun surrounded him and waited for him to utter the last words. Tragic music sounded. The whole world seemed to belong to the deceased.
For a boy's homeschooling, looking in the mirror for too long can make him feel ashamed. So, The Sand Plains moved away from the mirror almost quickly, but the coat was slow to take off. He walked from the living room to his room and from the room to the bathroom. It's Saturday and there's plenty of time for self-appreciation.
Two days ago, on Thursday afternoon, Sahara's mother got off the bus and walked twice a day. One trip is to work, and the other is the way home from work, as it is now. Each time, she would pass by the same clothing store, which was close to the bus station. When passing in the morning, the clothing store also pulled the roller shutter door, and the window was also covered by curtains. Sometimes, she would think: The boss is really lazy, opening the door so late. When it was time to leave work, she often went in for a walk and did not buy anything.
That day, she also walked in, but it was different from usual. This time, with a purpose, she wants to buy her son a new coat as a birthday present. My son's birthday is not forgotten every year, even though he seems to be less and less interested in birthdays. Maybe it's because birthdays go the same every year, just the whole family goes out for a meal and buys a cake. Nothing new, and he doesn't have any friends, so he can eat and sing with a large group of friends like other children. Every year, it was always the three of them, a family of three, who turned off the lights and quietly blew out the colored candles.
Buying a new coat as a gift was a whim on her way to work. In fact, the idea has long been there. Every time she visited the clothing store, she looked casually, as a kind of relaxation, or as a spice to everyday life. She never impulsively consumes and buys it when she sees something that's good. "Good steel is used on the blade" is her rule for many years, otherwise the family's income and expenditure should be overwhelmed. The family is not very generous, since the husband has a small business in the past few years and owed a debt, the family's use is very tight. So, she basically only went to the wholesale market for clothes, buying well-made but cheap styles.
With this belief, she visited clothing stores, especially designer clothing stores, and there was a slight guilt in her heart. Especially when she meets a passionate shopping guide, introduces her to the latest style, encourages her to go to the fitting room, and whenever this happens, she will smile and say "I'll see again" and then step to the other side, trying to stay away from this doomed enthusiasm. It's not that she feels guilty because she can't afford it (she can still buy it by gritting her teeth), but she can't bear to let others waste their time on her. But this time the situation is different, she has made up her mind to buy, so she can accept the enthusiasm and flattery of the shopping guide with peace of mind.
The trench coat was hanging there, lined up with the other men's coats, and she could see it at a glance. She imagined What Sakurahara would look like when she put it on: clean and neat, even a little handsome—she had always felt that her son was handsome, at least compared to most boys her age, and she knew that this might just be a filter for motherhood. She thought of her son complaining more than once that the coat (a blue-gray storm jacket) was too old and old-fashioned to wear on his body.
The sand plains in the trench coat really look like some adults. She looked at her son standing in front of the mirror with satisfaction, although he was not tall, but healthy and bright, maybe in a few years, the boy would really be able to shield his parents from the wind and rain. After so many years, her life has been a bit bumpy, but she can still experience the happiness that flows inadvertently in life.
"This is a brand." She couldn't help but say that she regretted it when she said it. She felt that these words seemed to be expressing her love and dedication to her son eagerly. This is not her character, she believes that her son can appreciate the good intentions of his parents, and it is vulgar to say it.
Sahara turned his head, looked at his mother, and then smiled. She knows her son, just like herself, and this child is not very expressive, always hiding emotions in her heart. She saw that the smile was from the heart.
It's another Monday—and today," Sakurahara's mother, like all weekdays, gets up early and makes breakfast for her children. Sand Plains was still asleep, which was a precious ten minutes of sleep, as if it had been extra out of thin air. He had actually woken up long ago, but still closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his mother scrambling eggs in the kitchen, and the slippers sliding back and forth on the floor. He imagined his mother's various movements in his dark mind. Finally, a cry penetrated through the bedroom door: "Get up! So he squinted his eyes, almost jumped up, lifted the quilt, searched for shoes with his bare feet, and then walked out of the room and into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He heard his mother in the living room—judging by the sound, it should be the location of the gate—and said to him, "Don't be late." "The door was closed and the house was silent again.
After washing, Sand went to the living room and saw scrambled eggs, white bread and milk on the dining table. The milk was in a good-looking longfoot cup, and he couldn't remember when he bought it. The shape and curvature of the cup made him look very comfortable, and it was his favorite glass. He sat down and took a few big sips from his cup.
"Eat something, don't drink on an empty stomach." His father, who was sitting opposite, reminded him that he was folding the morning newspaper up and down in half, laying it flat on the tabletop while pressing one hand on the newspaper, tapping the surface of the paper with his index finger as he spoke, as if trying to strengthen the tone with movements. The action seems to have been inherited from his father, Sahara's grandfather. But Sakihara wasn't sure, Grandpa was just a vague shadow in his memory.
Sahara ate the egg in two bites, then took a bite of bread and sucked on a mouthful of milk. From time to time, he always glanced up at the wall clock on the wall, and when the needle pointed to a certain number, he quickly disposed of the rest of the food, quickly put on the school uniform, and picked up the bag. This morning, after putting on the ugly blue and white tracksuit, he hesitated slightly. His hands were unsure in front of the hanger—on the left was a bloated stormtrooper he had worn for many years, and on the right was a newly purchased coat. He seemed undecided whether today was the day to wear new clothes. "Man by clothing and horses by saddles", he knew that clothes will change a person's temperament. Moreover, it was a bold attempt, and he had never worn a trench coat before.
In the end, he decided to take a risk and took off his trench coat. Leaving the stormtrooper clothes draped there, motionless.
He rarely wore new clothes, but felt a little uncomfortable and twisted. Like most Chinese children of the same age, he wears basically only sportswear during school, both summer and winter. The rest of the clothes spanned junior and high school, and the jackets were also worn for several years in stormtroopers and down jackets—when his mother bought clothes, they were relatively large. The clothes fit his current stature.
Shara walks on his way to school. He had to cross two intersections and cut a short distance through a residential area to see the school's large iron gate. The school gate opens at 8:30 a.m., and the door is often already crowded with large numbers of students. They wore coats of various colors and their trousers were all blue. Next to the school, there are various small restaurants and shops, and the steps are full of students copying their homework. They put their school bags on their knees and struggled to write.
The closer You get to the school, the more nervous you become. When he first left the house, his mood was still happy. Wearing his new coat, he felt as if he had matured a little. When he approached the school and the scattered students began to appear on the road, he suddenly lost his courage, and even developed a certain fear, but he did not know what he was afraid of. At the end of October, the weather is not yet the real winter, and the temperature has begun to cool down. These days are always windy, and the trees on both sides of the road, which are already monotonous, are even thin and dry by the wind at this time. Bicycles parked on the side of the road poured out like cards. The wind pressed his coat tightly against Sand Yuan's body, making him feel the thinness and thinness of his body.
He could already see the crowds moving in front of him. His pace slowed down, trying to find a secluded place to wait for the school door to open. Just as he hesitated, Li Jing walked over to him. He was tall, with a cotton shoulder in the jacket of his school uniform, shrugged his shoulders, put his hands in his pockets, crossed his bag, and his face was frozen red. "Sand Plains!" He cried out. Sahara had to stop and watch him walk up. Li Jing was speechless for a moment, looked up and down at Sha Yuan, and said, "You... Are you going on a blind date? Saying this, Li Jing seemed to be very satisfied, and couldn't help but laugh a few times. At this time, a few more boys gathered around. Their eyes were all fixed on Sand Plain's clothes.
"What are you going to do today?" Zhang Xing smiled.
"He's going on a blind date." Li Jing said.
Several people around giggled and laughed. Sahara had long anticipated this situation, so he put up his high collar, raised his head, and silently endured. If it was usual, Zhang Xing would definitely ask Sha Yuan for a copy of his math homework, but he obviously forgot about this more important thing. Ahead, the heads of the people gathered together changed and began to move silently in a certain direction. The school door opened. They let go of the sand plains and took a big stride. Sand Plains followed behind, blending into the surging crowd. He noticed that the people around him—mostly strange faces of different grades and classes—would glance at him, or rather, at his clothes. Around the slow-moving crowd, most of them wore "normal" coats: hoodies, cotton coats, jackets, etc., and only Sahara wore a knee-length black trench coat, which was very prominent. He pretended to ignore those eyes and stared only in the direction of the school gate. Standing at the door were a few senior students who checked the school spirit and discipline, wearing red armbands and keenly staring at everyone who walked into the school door. Once you have dyed hair, pierced ears, or scribbled on the school uniform, you will be pulled out. When Sand Plains passed them, they looked at him almost subconsciously, but they all looked indifferent.
From the school gate to the classroom, Shayuan has withstood countless people along the way. So when he finally sat down in his seat with his head down, he was already a little exhausted. But soon, he was immediately wrapped in the familiar sense of security in the classroom and couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.
The first class was mathematics, and the teacher's surname was Liu, a tall and thin middle-aged man. He wears a brown leather jacket and rimless oval glasses, and he always holds a small thermos in his left hand and takes a sip between lectures. Several times, Shara suspected that it was wine, because once they passed by, he was sure that he faintly smelled of wine. In addition, he liked Teacher Liu very much. The grade director was not very kind, and even often behaved harshly, but the students still admired him. Strong professional ability is one thing, but more importantly, he lectures, does things neatly and decisively, and has the manhood to attract children of that age.
Mathematics is Sahara's strong point, and he always raises his hand once or twice to answer questions in class, which he rarely does in other classes. But today, he didn't have the heart to raise his hand, afraid that the teacher would notice him. When Teacher Liu's gaze swept over the crowd, he couldn't help but fight a cold war: he was going to ask me to answer the question. He imagined himself standing up, the eyes of the class focused on his coat. He lowered his head deeply, not sure if Teacher Liu would perceive his own abnormality.
Fortunately, Teacher Liu ordered another classmate to answer the question. Sahara put his mind at ease, and at the same time felt a little remorseful, feeling that he was too unproductive. He wanted to take off his coat first, to get rid of this predicament of his own making. But the classroom was not yet heated, and it was as cold as an ice cellar. The wind outside whistled and shook the windows.
When the bell rang at the end of class, Teacher Liu dragged the hall for two minutes as usual, and then with a large ruler and compass under his armpits, he picked up the thermos cup containing unknown liquid and left the classroom. The students were finally freed for a while. On the toilet, three or five groups of people chatting, going to the playground to breathe, in the same space together. The noise and the sound of the seats rubbing against the ground covered almost everything. Sahara was still sitting in his chair and had no intention of getting up.
"Are you going to change your style?" Tang Xiaoqun, a girl sitting at his back table, suddenly asked. She lay on her stomach on the table, as if she had just woken up from a doze. In fact, she is indeed very good at sleeping, and she is in a sleepy state all day, and her grades are of course a mess. However, Sahara liked the tone and voice of her speech, which was a little playful and a little lazy.
"Huh?"
Tang Xiaoqun smiled, stood up straight, and nuzzled his mouth, indicating his coat.
"It's just a coat." Sakura turned back, expressing his reluctance to continue discussing this issue. Li Jing walked in from outside, saw Sha Yuan, and came over with a hippie smile and sat down on the empty chair to his right. He pretended to be surprised, as if he had just seen What Sakurahara was wearing, and jokingly asked him what he was going to do today, was he going on a date? Li Jing's voice is always very large, which attracts the attention of many people. Suddenly, Sakurahara became a small central figure in the classroom. Sha Yuan made an indifferent attitude and countered Li Jing's ridicule. Tang Xiaoqun was completely awake and watched them fight with interest.
When the class started, Li Jing rushed back to his seat.
In the next two lessons, Sahara forced himself not to think about the coat anymore. He thought it was funny, wasn't it just a trench coat? Is it worth the fuss? Isn't it more humiliating that Li Jing passed a small note to the girls in class before being caught by the teacher? He thought indignantly, and for a moment became frustrated—he realized that his mind was indeed uncontrollably occupied by this inexplicable little thing.
Don't care too much about other people's eyes, because living in the eyes of others will be very painful. This sentence was taught to him by his father, or rather, he heard it when his parents were talking. The father had an older brother, a younger brother and a younger sister. The older brother opened an accountant training center and had already settled overseas, only returning to China once around the Spring Festival; the younger brother took a different path, breeding wild animals such as snakes, peacocks, and turtles, which were said to sell well and had already become rich; and the younger sister, who was Alsoahara's aunt, married a painter who was more than a decade older than her. I heard that the market price of a painter's work is more than 100,000.
It can be said that in this family, other people's brains are very active, living in the wind and water, only Sahara's father mixed the most, so Sahara's mother always feels a little unable to lift her head, which often becomes the fuse of quarrels. Father would go out of his way to say, "Why do you always compare yourself with others?" Are you living to show them?
Sahara knew that his father did not have enough confidence when he said these words, but he felt a certain sense of strength and dignity in them. Sahara felt that his father was taller than ever when he said this.
He decided to abandon childish thoughts and concentrate on the lecture. He almost succeeded.
It's already the third lesson. After class, Sahara stretched out and got up to go to the toilet. He was just about to walk out of the classroom when he thought of his coat again. His footsteps paused, and the thought of taking off his coat flashed by. However, he did not stay long and stepped out of the classroom like a gamble.
The corridors of the teaching building are cramped and dark, and the appearance of the sand plains has aroused the sideways glances of many people. He pretended not to care and walked toward the toilet. Sometimes, he would deliberately look directly at the oncoming person. In the process, he felt a joy, as if he had become a firmer and more handsome person because of this unexpected situation.
As soon as he arrived at the door of the men's restroom, he smelled a smell of smoke. You don't have to look to know that it is the "bad students" who are smoking again. He walked into the toilet with a hard scalp.
As soon as he came in, everyone inside looked at him. In the smoke, Sha Yuan nodded calmly with Li Siyi, who was in the same class. In fact, they did not know each other, and they did not say a few words in total. In order to relieve the tension, Sha Yuan coughed twice, slapped his hand a few times, and then regretted it - these people are all bad guys in the school, mixed with bad teenagers outside the school, and often fight. On weekdays, when he saw them, Sha yuan stood silently to the side, trying not to attract their attention. But now, he couldn't keep a low profile. Sha Yuan turned his back on them and peed in the urinal, which was very loud. Behind him was a disturbing silence.
When he was finished, he bowed his head, did not look at anyone, and prepared to leave silently. At this time, a voice said, "That..."
Sha Yuan stopped and stared nervously at Li Siyi, who was dyed with a small yellow flat head and a cigarette in his hand. He was short, but strong, with two small mustaches above his lips, a dirty school uniform, and some strange patterns painted. He stared expressionlessly at the sand plains.
Because of his slight stuttering, he always spoke very slowly, so he appeared solemn. He nodded at Sagahara and said approvingly, "This is a good outfit." "I also showed an imperceptible smile." Thank you. Sahara whispered, not daring to look at the others' expressions, and turned his head and walked out of the toilet. On the way back to the classroom, he fluttered lightly under his feet, kept his head down, and stopped looking at others. Sitting in your seat, the class bell just rings. Sakura didn't take the textbook, just sat stunned, smelling the smoke on his coat.
For the entire next lesson, his mind was not on the textbook. He stared at the language teacher's hand with the chalk and moved in front of the blackboard to draw a white path. The powder kept falling, and some fell on the teacher's shoulder. He looked at the teacher's chalk-stained fingers. Gradually, the chalk was gone, and the words seemed to be directly conjured from the palm of the hand.
The whole person of Sand Plains was enveloped by a feeling of great frustration. In this case, he was always unable to listen carefully. Yes, he realized that he couldn't be that kind of person: a maverick, who didn't care about the opinions of others and only did what he liked. Nor is he able to be a villain, using fear and majesty to make those around him afraid to express their true thoughts. He can only become a person like his father--the good man in everyone's mind, without the mind and character to do business, but he has to do it, and finally he naturally fails. Except for his mother, no one would blame him, and everyone seemed to show the sympathy that had been prepared for him, inviting him to eat and climb the mountain, telling him not to be too sad, and that everyone could think of a way to deal with the problem of money.
The Chinese teacher turned around, put down the chalk, clapped his hands, and asked everyone to turn to a certain page.
"The sunset and the lone bird fly together, and the autumn water is long and colorful." The fishing boat sings late, ringing the shore of the poor Peng Li; the geese are frightened, and the sound is broken in the pool of Hengyang..."
The sound of reading brings together the voices of the twenty-six male and female students in the class to form a wonderful tone. It is divided into twenty-six parts, but it is like a human voice. The voice could not distinguish between genders and could not say that there was any emotion. It is impossible to identify a specific person. Each person seems to have no need to command, and with that seemingly innate tone of voice he flows into the long river of recitation, and even if there are abrupt parts, they are automatically corrected or erased—until the abruptness itself becomes part of the collective.
"Woohoo! Bad luck and bad luck. Feng Tang is old, Li Guang is difficult to seal. Qu Jiayi is in Changsha, not without a holy lord;
Sakihara didn't think anything of it. He was immersed in a sense of security set off by the smooth rhythm until the recitation came to an abrupt end. He was almost about to forget what he had been bothering about. The teacher nodded his name and asked him to memorize one of the passages silently, which was homework left over from the previous lesson. He stood up, his trench coat clasped to his body, making a rustling sound of friction. He lowered his head and saw the two bare metal rings around his waist. The recitation stumbled, and a snicker appeared next to it. The teacher, somewhat annoyed, asked Sahara to sit down.
At lunch, As if it were very hot, Sakurabara naturally took off his coat, put it on the back of his chair, and then got up to go outside to get his meal. Lunch is uniformly ordered by the school and packed in a large plastic box. He thinks his movements don't show the slightest deliberateness. Then in the first class of the afternoon, the windows in the classroom always seemed to leak wind, and the weather outside was also very cold. Sahara had to put the trench coat back on his body.
The day's study passed quickly. I'll get used to it, and when I pack my bag, Sakurahara thinks, others will get used to it too. Within two days, he would no longer be bothered about wearing a trench coat, and even he himself would not be bothered. The trench coat will soon become an ordinary coat that others (at least classmates) will turn a blind eye to. Man's attention is always short and fleeting, and he knows this very well. Just like a newly bought shoe, it may not fit well at first, but after a few more days of wear, it will become extremely obedient.
With this feeling in mind, Sahara briskly put on his school bag and walked out of the classroom. It was already dark and the days were shortening. He walked through the dark corridor to the playground and continued to walk slowly toward the school gate. The lights and street lamps in the buildings were lit, and the branches of the roadside were swaying slightly in the deep purple sky. Sha Yuan saw that Li Siyi was walking in front of him, and as soon as he left the school door, he let the bag slip off his shoulder, held it in his hand, and pulled something out of it. Then, with a "click", the darkness was accompanied by a flash of fire, and it disappeared quickly with a big swing.
At some point (such as now), Sha Yuan would be a little envious of Li Siyi. He lives a completely different life, many of which Sandhara does not dare to think or try, and may be doomed to lose his life. But the price of this life is that he becomes an out-and-out "outlier" in the eyes of his classmates and teachers.
If Sarawara ever thought about what kind of person he would be—or what kind of "adult"—of course, he had many kinds of imaginations, but most of those imaginations have lost their vitality. Now, he was thinking of Teacher Liu's serious but often silent humorous face. He was fair and reasonable. Therefore, the students love him very much, and the school is very important. In many large-scale activities held by the school, Mr. Liu has served as the host. It is said that he wrote the words himself.
Sha Yuan remembered that once it was also a windy day, Teacher Liu had a lecture note under his arm, wearing a similar trench coat (but dark green, the style was much older), and walked towards the teaching building against the wind. The wind lifted his trench coat and blew his already half-white hair backwards. Teacher Liu squinted his eyes, stared ahead, and looked resolute. That scene is still imprinted in TheRahara's mind.
"Sunahara!"
He stopped and looked back. The road home was dimly lit, and it was almost dark. A figure slowly emerged from the darkness. The visitor was not tall, with thin limbs, looked a little shorter than The Sand Plain, wore a blue hoodie with a zipper, and was slightly hunched over by his school bag.
"Let's go!" Zhang Xing came to the side of Shayuan and walked side by side with him.
Sand Plains unconsciously picked up his pace. To be honest, he didn't like Zhang Xing very much, because this person always had some behavior that made people feel uncomfortable. For example, he would suddenly pat Azahara on the shoulder and say solemnly, "Borrow a fire." Or, inexplicably, affectionately shouting "Obarahara", making Sahara feel a great disgrace... In short, Sakihara thinks that these are boring pranks, and the people who do the pranks don't seem to get much pleasure, but are just venting their excess energy in this childish way.
Another point is that Zhang Xing usually goes out of school with Li Jing, and only when he is abandoned by Li Jing, he will find Shayuan, which also makes Shayuan very unhappy.
Therefore, Sha Yuan shut up and ignored Zhang Xing's chatter. He wanted the man to be a little more amused and then shut up.
"You bought this trench coat yourself?" After a moment of silence, Zhang Xing suddenly turned his face and asked.
"My mom bought it."
"It's cool."
Sand Plains continued to walk forward with a muffled head. He had already decided that Zhang Xing didn't have much truth in his mouth.
"Uh..." Zhang Xing became a little twisted. He walked to a street lamp and stood still, looking at the sand field in embarrassment. This surprised Sha Yuan, who saw Zhang Xing's appearance for the first time.
"I... Can I wear it? ”
"Huh?"
"Just borrow me to wear it," he said with a smile, "don't be so stingy!" ”
Sha Yuan immediately thought that this was a trap, but still took off his coat and handed it to Zhang Xing. He watched Zhang Xing excitedly take off his hoodie and change into his trench coat.
"How's it going?" Zhang Xing's eyes shone with brilliance, and he stared at The Sand Plain.
Under the light, Zhang Xing's slender neck and hands protruded from the inside of the trench coat. The clothes were barely supported by the body, but there was a strong sense of incongruity in contrast to the childish face of the boy with the pimples, as if the little head had been grafted from somewhere, full of funny colors.
"Okay?" Zhang Xing returned the coat to Sha Yuan, "I actually always wanted to buy one... Aren't you cold? ”
Sha Yuan did not hear Zhang Xing's words. He pursed his mouth and walked in silence, his clothes in a mess, clutched in his hands as if he had just been plucked from some dead animal.
——Published in Grassland, No. 2, 2022
About the Author
Li Tang
Born in Beijing in 1992. He wrote poetry in high school and began writing novels in college. His works can be found in "Harvest", "October", "People's Literature" and so on. He has published the novel collection "We Will Eventually Be Forgotten", "Tropical", the novel "The Sea Outside", and "The Moon Real Estate Salesman". He won the "Purple Gold People's Literature Star" Novel Award.