Dean of the Faculty of Literature/Emotion The full text totals 2708 words
01
Ah Feng is not a person in Wangjiazhuang, his family is in Liuzhai Village, seven or eight miles west of Wangjiazhuang. Because my grandmother's family is also in Liuzhai Village, when I followed my mother back to my grandmother's house when I was a child, I could often see Ah Feng's figure at the entrance of the village.
His figure was very eye-catching in the crowd of black pressure. This eye-catching is not due to his height or his physique, but because his head and face are covered with hairs that are extremely inappropriate for his age.
Judging from the facial features and body size, Ah Feng's age should be the same as mine, or a year or two older. Judging from his gray hair, I am afraid that my mother will be shorter than him for a lifetime—when I first saw Ah Feng, I was attracted by his rather strange white hair.
It wasn't until I couldn't see his white figure in the distance that I approached my mother to inquire about Ah Feng's bottom line. It turned out that he had suffered from a rare disease, albinism.
My grandmother sat next to the pressurized well and told me that Ah Feng's illness was brought out of the womb. No one could have imagined that Ah Feng's parents were all good black hair, black eyebrows, black sweat, but the children born did look like this; what was even more painful was that there was no cure for this disease.
Listening to the experts in the county, if you want Ah Feng to produce black hair, black eyebrows and black sweat, unless he beats the mother's womb and walks again, otherwise he will not think about it in this life.
In the first few years, Ah Feng's parents did not admit their fate. They ran several Chinese medicine shops with Ah Feng, and they didn't know how many medicine jars had been burned, nor could they remember how many black sesame seeds they forced Ah Feng to eat, but Ah Feng's body still couldn't come out of half a black hair. Slowly, Ah Feng's parents also died.
02
When I first met Ah Feng, he was not yet ten years old. Children of this age should not have any loud nicknames - even if they do, these nicknames are only spread among naughty children, and will not pass into the ears and eyes of adults, but Ah Feng is different.
His nickname is not only widely spread among children, but even the seventy-year-old and eighty-year-old lady often recites it after tea and dinner. Listening to grandma, Ah Feng's nickname is very suitable for Jing'er, called "Little White Child"; if he is lazy, he simply omits the word "small" and directly calls it "White Child".
Being given such a nickname, Ah Feng's heart was naturally very uncomfortable, and he hated not being able to block everyone's mouth. But he didn't have the guts, he could only hang his head and wipe his tears and let others shout at will.
Of course, if others shouted at him, he would occasionally raise his head and frown and stare at others with pink eyeballs for a while, but this kind of staring often did not last long. Because of his life, his two eyeballs trembled from side to side like pendulums. As long as Ah Feng's eyes trembled, everyone would shut up with interest and no longer mention any "little white children".
03
Because of his snow-white skin, Ah Feng was quite afraid of the sun. The reason why I know this is not because my grandmother told me this, but because I looked at it carefully with my eyes.
I can't remember what summer it was, when we were sitting around eating watermelon under the date tree in front of my grandmother's house, when a thief suddenly sneaked in the crack of the door and a head slipped in.
It was none other than Ah Feng. Ah Feng saw that the courtyard of his grandmother's house was full of people, and he was a little reluctant to enter the door. Later, thanks to his grandmother's good coaxing, he paced in with his head down.
It turned out that he had brought noodles to his grandmother. The green and oily melon has a fragrant smell, and a gentle break with your hand reveals the yellow and sweet melon inside.
That day, Grandma insisted on staying at home to eat watermelon, but Ah Feng couldn't help it, so she had to find a stool and sit down. When he looked down to eat melon, he had been hiding in the shade of the jujube tree, and I noticed that he was wearing long-sleeved trousers on a three-volt day.
Isn't he hot? Looking at his face full of sweat, I knew he must be hot. On a hot day, the reason why he did not dare to change into short-sleeved shorts, in addition to fear of mosquito bites, another important reason must be because his snow white and pink skin could not withstand the exposure of the sun.
After eating the two slips of watermelon in front of him, Ah Feng wiped the corners of his mouth and got up to say goodbye. When Ah Feng lowered his head and went back, he hid his whole body in the shadow of the earthen wall, and at that time I secretly thought in my heart that Ah Feng's nickname should not be called "Little White Child" or "White Child", "Snowman" is the most appropriate.
04
Probably because I ate the noodle melon sent by Ah Feng, I did not intend to tell anyone about this wonderful idea in my heart, but I deliberately wrote it in my diary.
After writing, looking at the sun sinking in the west, I was vaguely uneasy. Without my father noticing, I quietly threw the page with the words "Snowman" into the hearth, until the rows of handwriting turned into a pile of ashes in the golden flames, and I finally put my mind at ease.
Since then, whenever I see Ah Feng at the village entrance north of Liuzhai Village, no matter how dazzling his white hair is, I deliberately do not direct my thoughts to "snowman" or "little white child".
When my mother was talking with everyone at the entrance of the village, Ah Feng, who was hiding in the corner of the crowd, did not look at me with his eyes, nor did I lie on my mother's shoulder and secretly look at him with my eyes. The number of times we looked at each other was more, and slowly, Ah Feng and I regarded each other as friends in our hearts.
Later, when I returned to my grandmother's house, Ah Feng would often carry things over, sometimes a small bag of long bell milk dates, sometimes a half basket of mirrored persimmon cakes, and when the water in the ditch in the west head of Liuzhai Village looked like it was going to run dry, he would also bring two live grass carp.
Grandma advised Ah Feng to keep himself to eat, but he replied the same every time, "There are still some old people in my family!" When he said this, his face overflowed with a pink smile, and then added the pair of reddened eyeballs, and those who did not know thought he was drunk.
Ah Feng was obviously not drunk. Although his father was famous for his alcoholism, Ah Feng had never touched a drop of wine when he was a child, and according to himself, as soon as he smelled the wine, he felt a headache, as if he had been cursed by someone.
05
After spending a long time together, I found that the things that could make Ah Feng feel a headache were in addition to the white wine that pierced his nose, and the textbook that emitted the smell of ink.
Ah Feng didn't like to read much. During the summer, when he came to my grandmother's house to play with me, whenever he saw me crouching in front of a high-backed chair and writing my homework, he couldn't help but frown palely.
I pulled Ah Feng along to write his homework, and he reluctantly agreed to come down. But before he could write a few words, he began to look east and west, sometimes deliberately dropping the lid of the pen on the ground, and then leaning down to pick it up slowly.
Carelessness in his studies made Ah Feng drop out of school and go home without graduating from junior high school. When he dropped out of school, Ah Feng was not yet fifteen years old.
Even if the children of fifteen or sixteen are willing to go out to work, no unit is willing to accept them. After a year or two of idleness at home, seeing that he was going to become an adult, Ah Feng found a job in the city to do miscellaneous work in the back kitchen of the restaurant.
This job was not very smooth, and after working for more than half a year, Ah Feng followed an uncle of his family to Qingdao to make a living. Listening to grandma, Ah Feng mixed quite well in Qingdao, and within a few years, the old courtyard north of Liuzhai Village was torn down, and a few months later, five magnificent new houses were built on the spot.
On the day of the new house, my mother and I happened to pass by the side. At that time, a group of people were shouting their trumpets to cut off the middle beam to the shelf, and Ah Feng was holding a stick and straw not far away to prepare to ignite a long string of red firecrackers.
With a crackling sound, Zhongliang stood firmly. Ah Feng shouted at the people above, and before those people could get down, he busied himself with several cups of steaming tea water.
Seeing that Ah Feng was very busy, I hurriedly told him a few old words, and I panicked and said goodbye.
06
The new house is up, and the marriage is fast. Listening to the people in Liuzhai Village, Ah Feng repeatedly instructed the matchmaker when he asked the matchmaker to say that as long as the woman did not dislike him for having albinism, he was willing to pay out as much as he wanted.
The matchmaker is full of promises. But after running for more than half a year, these people all felt that Ah Feng's matchmaking affair was somewhat hanging - Ah Feng had materials that were not fake, and the family was thick and real, but when the female family heard that Ah Feng had such a genetic disease, they all waved their hands and shook their heads to refuse.
Today, Ah Feng is still single.
The new house built a few years ago is now obviously no longer new- but Ah Feng's body is still so white. This kind of whiteness makes passers-by unable to open their eyes, making women afraid, and also making Ah Feng sleep and eat all day long.
——end——
Originality is not easy, look forward to your attention, likes, comments, retweets and appreciation!
(Image source network, if there is infringement, please contact to delete)
Recommended reading
(Prose) Father and wine
(Vernacular prose) "Yellow Half Immortal"