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Sui Yan: Ink | Short stories

author:Northern urban culture

Sui Yan: Ink | Short stories

About author:Sui Yan, a native of Songyuan, Jilin. He is a member of the Chinese Writers Association and vice chairman of the Songyuan Writers Association. He is the author of the novel "Wheat Yellow" and the poetry collection "Watching the Vicissitudes of Life". The short stories have been published in literary journals such as "Writer", "Qingming", "Young Writers", "Fangcao", "Youth Literature", "Times Literature", "Manchu Literature", "Anhui Literature", "Xiamen Literature", "Earth Literature", "Haiyan" and other literary journals, totaling more than 1 million words.

Ink

Author: Sui Yan (Jilin Songyuan)

Sui Yan: Ink | Short stories

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At the south window lattice, the sunlight slanted in, weaving a three-dimensional golden prism. Carefully distinguished, the many fine dust are like swimming fish, in the prism, shuttling back and forth in any direction. There is a faint fragrance of orchids, rippling, floating, curling, straight to the heart and lungs.

The old lady was dressed in a green shirt and wore a bun at the back of her head. The dark purple hairpin, like a butterfly, lurks in the bud of the flower that you love. Hands folded, cross-legged, eyes closed, facing the window and back to the door sat on the kang, the corner of the light prism was touching the old lady's left arm. So, on the left side of the old lady, bright and full, on her right, cold and dark, as if encountering an unpredictable fate.

The door opened softly and closed with a "click". Gentle footsteps, heavy wheezing, and a careful cough were all mixed together. Then, the air was like rusty screws, and there was no sound, as if there was only the tireless heartbeat, suggesting that there was still someone.

"Chunhua, I, I'm coming to you!" The old man begged, and he was even more flustered, "I know you're still there, you, you're not dead......"

The old lady did not move, like a wooden carving, and it seemed that the breath was gone.

"I'm too willful, what do I say? I ......" the old man's face was covered with beads of sweat, and he raised his hand, wiped it lightly, and again, "Tell me, why is this man like this?" ……”

The old lady moved slightly, raised her hand, and touched the butterfly hairpin, which seemed to be in the right direction. Hands folded, silence again.

"You ignore me, I know, your temperament, you can't tolerate ......" The old man grabbed another handful of sweat beads, rubbed his hands, and spoke faster, coming out in pieces, spitting out vague words, chirping, no rules, and seemed to be incomprehensible.

One second, two seconds, one minute, two minutes......

The old lady was like a rock, smashing deep into the soil, tears churning in the embankment. She stifled, oppressed, intercepted, tried to block, never let it pour down.

Immutable time, almost fifty years?

The old man coughed, once, twice, three times, and when he was still, his eyes were on the old lady. Gently move your steps, slowly move forward, take off your shoes, get on the kang, pick up the old lady from behind, turn around, and face the door and back window. The old lady opened her eyes, separated her hands, dragged the cigarette basket with her left hand, pressed the cigarette pouch and pot full of tobacco, lit it, clicked, and took a few puffs. The green smoke was like wisps, climbing up from the old lady's face, and then dismantling, without a trace, and climbing up again.

The old man stared at the smoke ring dissipating, rising, dissipating, and staring at the old lady fixedly. I feel that except for a few more wrinkles at the corners of my mouth, my face is still as smooth as ever, and the years have left too little on the old lady.

"Excuse me, who are you looking for?" The old lady took a puff of cigarette, her face sank like water, and her clear voice was porcelain and pure.

"Chunhua, don't you know me?" The old man sneered, approached, and stood by the kang, as if he had been forgiven, "I've been looking for you for many days, yo, how can you live in the bungalow area?" ……”

"Does this concern you? Yes? Is it related? The old lady took a puff of cigarette and blew it lightly, and the smoke was gone.

The old man was well-behaved, and when he saw the old lady's emotions, he immediately stopped.

"Chunhua, it's all my ......" The old man raised his hand, slapped him, and choked up, "I'm not human, I, I'm ......"

"Who are you looking for?" The old lady asked again.

"Chunhua, I'm looking for you!" The old man wiped a handful of tears, pointed at the girl, and knelt on one knee, "My granddaughter, if you don't save her, she will be finished......"

The girl is fifteen or sixteen years old, inherited from generation to generation, with the shadow of an old man in her eyebrows, her face is pale, and her eyes are as clear as waves.

The old lady put down her cigarette pouch, crossed her legs, folded her hands on her abdomen, and closed her eyes.

"Chunhua, you punish me......" The old man was anxious, shouted, painful, helpless, desperate, "Chunhua, you have to save the child, save the ......"

The old lady opened her eyes slightly, glanced at the old man, sighed lightly, shook her head, and coughed: "I have a condition, should you do it?" The old man stretched his neck, and his head seemed to be about to be pasted: "Say, I will agree to any conditions!" The old lady stared at the old man and asked, "Is it okay for me to hit you a hundred times with a cigarette pouch?" The girl's eyes widened and she spat out: "You stinky old woman, don't beat my grandfather!" The old man turned around, patted the girl, and shouted, "Don't speak!" ”

The old man was thin, with a slightly hunched back and visible ribs. The old lady caressed his neck and shoulders, rubbing it back and forth several times, and two lines of tears rolled down. The old man sensed something. The old lady's hand trembled slightly, like a signal passed through. The old lady stopped the tears, picked up the cigarette pouch, and slashed down rhythmically along the old man's shoulders, from left to right, from right to left, once, twice, two hundred.

The old man didn't know that she had specially cured his neck and shoulder disease.

The old lady shouted out the door, and a boy of seventeen or eight ran in with a square box in his hand. The old man asked, "Chunhua, what are you?" …… Damn lupus erythematosus...... "The old lady was silent, got down from the kang, approached the girl, and used a brush, from the knee down, layer by layer. The girl's thighs are like black bandages. Black ink, viscous and shiny.

The cigarette bag and pot were filled with tobacco, and the old lady took a sip and spit out a smoke ring: "You should go, don't call me Li Chunhua, you recognize the wrong person!" ”

The old man felt a little furious in his heart, and after careful confirmation, he affirmed over and over again in his heart that the old lady in front of him was Li Chunhua.

The old lady sat facing south, still in that time period, still in that position, still in that position. The sun was still shining obliquely, and the left side of her face was like a round spot of light. She still has a big bun on the back of her head, and instead of a butterfly hairpin, she has a silver hairpin.

"Chunhua, come to me!" The old man pleaded.

"Why are you here again, I'm not Li Chunhua!" The old lady turned her back to the old man, closed her eyes, and was calm, "My name is Li Qiufen, please don't recognize the wrong person again." ”

The old man didn't say a word, and motioned for someone to come. The old lady was forcibly carried into the car and pulled away.

The spacious living room is luxurious.

"You get me here, I can stay for a few days." Through the window, the old lady looked at the boat in the river, watching the river pass leisurely, "The spring flowers are dead, Qiufen is about to die, everything can't escape time, just like the ink, there will always be a time to fall off." …… If there is no resentment, the heart will burn into a lamp. ”

The old lady stayed idle for a few days, leaving the secret recipe to the old man, and telling his son to leave his kindness to the world.

Within a few years, it was rumored that the old lady was in Tianmu Mountain.

Reprinted from "Famous Classic Short Stories"

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