The police went to Yan Hang's house yesterday.
On the first day of junior high school, I knew that the back figure in the photo was indeed Uncle Yan.
So... Yan Hang must also know who the car belongs to and who the third person on the scene is.
This made the first day of the junior high school very scared.
What he was even more afraid was that Yan Hang knew that Uncle Yan might be injured, but his father did not.
Of the three people, one is dead, one is injured, one is okay...
Standing behind the tree on the first day of the new year, he would panic when he thought of this, and he became a little untenable with panic, and he had to lean on the trunk.
He has been living very hard these few days. He hasn't gone to school for two days. The family is in a mess. Dad has no news, no one can find it, and he has not contacted the family.
My mother sits on the sofa every day in a daze, and my grandmother scolds every day. Seeing who is swearing at whom, she has to quarrel with someone when she goes out the door.
And compared to home, the rumors outside are more terrifying.
Dad became the real version of "Don't mess with the honest people."
Looked like a bag of air, I was forced to stabb you to death with a few stabs, and one stabbing is not finished, but one can be stabbed.
The case over there has not yet progressed, and he has become the son of a murderer.
And the WeChat in his mobile phone, where he would never receive any news except for Yan Hang's news, became lively, and every day, his classmates would add him as friends.
This feeling of being forcibly exposed to everyone's eyes makes him feel like standing in a transparent sealed steamer every minute and every second.
No one could hear what he said, and no one wanted to hear it, only suffocation.
He glanced at the window of Yan Hang's house opposite. After the police left, there was no movement at Yan Hang's house.
In fact, the so-called movement is nothing more than whether the lights are on or whether Yan Hang's shadow has dangled on the curtains.
Today until more than nine o'clock in the evening, Yan Hang's light did not turn on.
This makes the first day of the junior high school very worried.
Yan Hang hadn't been out in the past few days. He couldn't figure out his condition on the first day of the new year, and he didn't even know if he had eaten.
It can only be judged from the lights on and off that Yan Hang is at home and walking.
Know nothing else.
But he didn't dare to contact Yan Hang. He didn't know if Yan Hang, like those people, had thoughts about his father killing someone.
He sticks to the tree, showing one eye, and continues to stare at Yan Hang's window, with his hand in his trouser pocket, gently pinching the little leather jacket.
It's like a perverted stalker.
Fortunately, there are few people now, and no one finds that he will come here every day.
It was posted until half past ten. He couldn't help it on the first day of the new year. He ran all the way to a 24-hour supermarket far away from home. No one knew him here.
The two hundred yuan my aunt gave him that day was useless. He took it out now and bought a bunch of food, dim sum, ham, snacks, and a few boxes of self-heating rice. I wanted to buy another one. Yan Hang always smoked cigarettes, but after asking the price, he found that the cigarettes were too high-end and he didn't have enough money. In the end, he only bought two packs, and then ran back all the way with these things.
With no one around, he quickly crossed the street and stood in front of Yan Hang's house.
There is no sound inside.
Of course he didn't dare to get too close for fear of being discovered.
He held his breath, approached cautiously, ready to rush over to put the food at the door, knock on the door and then turned and escaped.
After rehearsing this process in his mind several times, he rushed over on tiptoe.
Just bending over to put down the bag, the door lock rang.
Chuyi felt his brain buzzing, and blood gathered on his head from his whole body. He threw the bag away, turned and ran.
He only ran out for a maximum of five steps, and someone behind him kicked him in the ass.
He staggered for two steps, before he fell down, he was grabbed and pulled back by his arm.
"What are you running?" Yan Hang's voice was a little hoarse.
"No, I know." As soon as I turned around, I saw Yan Hang's haggard face in the dim street lamp light, and suddenly felt his nose sour.
"With this reaction speed, I am afraid that the road of being a thief will not work." Yan Hang let go of him.
"You can robbery, robbery," said the first day.
"Let's collect protection fees at the entrance of the kindergarten." Yan Hang smiled.
"Yeah." The first day of the day responded.
Yan Hang's smile was full of exhaustion, and he couldn't hold it anymore when he glanced over it, tears welled up in an instant.
It was rushing, as if the brakes had broken.
Yan Hang didn't make a sound or moved, and just stood there watching him cry.
He didn't want to cry, especially at this time in front of Yan Hang, but crying was like a giggle. Once he started, it was not easy to stop.
He gritted his teeth at last and finally stopped.
I felt that all my muscles were sore in order to suppress this bit of crying.
He bowed his head and pulled up his clothes and wiped his eyes.
Yan Hang sighed.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." He loosened his clothes, raised his hand and rubbed his arm against his eyes twice. As soon as he said this, tears burst into his eyes again.
He seldom cried, was beaten, scolded and bullied. He never cried. At most, he complained to the tree hole. Many emotions passed away.
I don't know what's going on right now, wronged, depressed, panicked, uneasy, all turned up in a staggered way.
"Go into the house and cry." Yan Hang patted his head, turned around and picked up the bag on the ground and returned to the house.
He hesitated on the first day of the new year, and walked in behind him.
After a few days of not coming in, the cabin that he had always felt particularly warm and practical seemed to have changed.
In fact, everything hasn't been moved, it's still in place, except that the coffee table is a little messy, and dust is everywhere. Everything is still the same, but it feels different.
Particularly gloomy and cold.
"What did you buy?" Yan Hang put the bag on the coffee table and opened it.
"Eat," Chu Yi wiped his eyes and walked to him, "Are you, didn't you, haven't eaten?"
"Not hungry." Yan Hang said.
"This is good, eat." On the first day of the new year, he took out a box of braised pork rice, "I have eaten special, don't taste good."
"Really." Yan Hang looked at it.
After turning on the light in the room, he realized that Yan Hang was very thin and his chin was a little sharp in just a few days after the first day of the junior high school.
"Eat something, something," he lowered his head to study the instructions on the lunch box. The meal is 18 yuan a box, very luxurious. He has never eaten such a high-end thing. "I see, look at it, don't eat it."
"Dog." Yan Hang took the box from his hand.
After the heat came out of the rice box, the coldness in the room faded a bit, but the gray tone still remained.
On the first day of the new year, he sat silently on the stool next to the coffee table, watching Yan Hang eat.
Yan Hang ate very slowly, chewing every bite for a long time.
He likes braised pork rice very much on the first day of the junior high. My aunt took him to eat before. He ate two servings. Although this box is not ready-to-eat, it smells very fragrant.
Yan Hang is so hard to eat such a fragrant dish, he should have no appetite.
This box of lunch should be just to save him face.
"Drink water?" asked in a soft voice on the first day of the month.
"Yeah." Yan Hang glanced at him.
He took Yan Hang's cup, poured a glass of water on the coffee table, and sat back where it was.
Yan Hang flipped through the bag, took a bag of seaweed and took a look: "At first glance, the child bought it."
"No," Chuyi smiled, "I just bought it at first sight, and bought it for the little ones."
Yan Hang unpacked, took two pieces into his mouth, and handed the rest to him.
On the first day of the new year, he took a piece and held it in his mouth, biting into it bit by bit.
He wanted to talk to Yan Hang, but he couldn't find anything to say. Yan Hang had been eating in silence, very slowly, without saying a word.
Maybe Yan Hang didn't want to talk to him.
The last bite of the meal was finally finished. Yan Hang pointed at him when he put down the lunch box: "Don't move."
"Oh." Chu Yi had already left the stool, and sat back.
"I'm okay," Yan Hang said, "you don't have to worry about me, let's take care of the family affairs first."
Chu Yi's heart trembled.
"I...none, nothing to deal with." He lowered his head and sighed.
"Yes," Yan Hang lit a cigarette. "There is no news."
"Yan Hang," called him on the first day of the day, "I..."
Yan Hang turned his head.
"My dad... him, my dad him, he, he..." The more difficult it is in the first year of the junior high school, the more difficult it is to say, "Just, just, just my dad..."
"He doesn't have the guts." Yan Hang said.
"Huh?" The first day of the year was stunned.
"Go back," Yan Hang said, "Sleep well, what should you do, your dad ran away, are you still living?"
He looked at him on the first day of the junior high school, but did not speak.
"This is for you," Yan Hang took out a card from his wallet, "The annual card of the boxing gym, you can go and play if you have nothing to do."
Did not move on the first day.
"We generally don't stay in one place for long. My dad also applies for an annual card, which should be for you," Yan Hang said, "I don't need it either."
On the first day of the junior high school, he took the card and squeezed it tightly in his hand, feeling that his hand was trembling.
After a long time, he put the card in his pocket and asked softly: "Are you going to go, are you leaving?"
Yan Hang didn't speak.
He secretly glanced at Yan Hang's ankle, and the small black stone was still tied there.
This feeling can't be said to be a sigh of relief, or a melancholy.
"I found that you are not that old, and your mind is quite heavy," Yan Hang stretched out his hand and patted his face, "I guess you think too much so you don't grow up."
"I plan to jump in the next half a year, jump a little." said the first day of the new year.
"Are you still coming as planned?" Yan Hang smiled.
"Well," nodded at first, "have saved enough, and jumped to two meters at a time."
"I'll wait and see." Yan Hang said.
He didn't know what was wrong in the first year of junior high. Yan Hang's words would make his nose sore.
I don't know if it is because of waiting to see, which means some kind of connection in the future, or because waiting to see is more like "if there is one day" feeling.
"Go back," Yan Hang said, "get a good night's sleep."
"Yeah." The first day of the junior high school responded, "How about you?"
"I'm going to sleep too, I just took medicine before you came to be a thief, and now I'm a little sleepy." Yan Hang said.
"Okay, then hello, good sleep." Lu Yi stood up.
"I see," Yan Hang also stood up, scratching his head twice, "Isn't it about going for a haircut? Why is it still a bird's nest."
"Forget," Chuyi smiled, "I'll go in two days."
"Don't make it too short, you have to fix it if it's too short." Yan Hang said.
"Yeah." Chu Yi scratched his hair.
After standing behind the curtains and watching the first day of the new year slowly walking in the direction of home, Yan Hang turned off the lights in the room.
Sit back on the sofa.
He has been sitting here these days, not knowing what he is thinking or what he should do.
The same is waiting. There was expectation in the previous anxiety, but the current anxiety is all confused.
There is also panic.
He lied to the first year of junior high school, he did not take medicine, and he did not want to sleep.
As soon as he closed his eyes, there was a pool of blood in front of him.
The surveillance of this film is not perfect. All three of them entered the alley. The one who returned from the alley was the father of the first grade. There was surveillance in the direction of the river, but only the dead were photographed.
Where did Dad go
So much blood is mortal.
Will die.
Yan Hang squeezed his hands together, wrapped his fingers in his palms, trying to make his hands warmer.
It's already July, and it's still cold like this.
He spent this night on the sofa just like the previous nights.
The only difference is that there is a touch of reality in the air because of the fragrance of the self-heating rice.
The whole room also made a sound because of the first year of the junior high school.
He breathed a sigh of relief when it was about to dawn. He didn't know why he breathed a sigh of relief, as if he could breathe again when light came through the curtains.
The sunlight leaking from the slits of the curtains made him feel the change of time.
He stared at the thin light, judging the present moment meaninglessly in his heart.
It's about eight twenty minutes.
Very light footsteps sounded outside the door.
Not dad.
He was too familiar with Dad's footsteps, and he knew very well that Dad could not appear at this time.
Nor is it the first year of junior high school.
There will be a pause when you reach the door on the first day of the new year.
It will not be the police, and the police will not come alone.
Yan Hang got up, rushed into the kitchen quickly, took a knife, leaned against the door frame, and stared at the door of the living room.
The footsteps came to the door and stopped, and then the door was knocked.
Knocked on the door
Yan Hang felt that he was a bit too nervous. This may be the landlord, the garbage collection fee, or the neighborhood committee...
"Who?" He didn't move, standing still and asked.
"Is Yan Hang here?" There was a man's voice outside.
"I ask who you are." Yan Hang said.
"Your dad's friend," the man replied.
Yan Hang said nothing.
Dad never said he had friends.
He glanced at the kitchen window. There was a small door on the anti-theft window, which was probably left by the landlord in order to escape from the fire. The key was left on the cupboard.
"So vigilant..." the man outside said with a sigh, "Yan Jidao, your dad asked me to come to you."
Yan Hang was stunned.
"Look at this." The man said again.
Then he saw something stuffed in under the crack of the door, and Yan Hang had already recognized it as soon as a corner was exposed.
This is the envelope from Dad.
Without hesitation, he walked over quickly and picked up the envelope.
It was this envelope that made him feel uneasy every time he saw it. He wanted to see the content but he didn't dare to read it. Now he wanted to find the broken envelope all the time.
He rubbed the opening of the envelope and saw that there was only a thin piece of paper inside. It was almost like this. Every time he picked it up, he felt that there was only one page of letter paper on top of his head.
When he pulled out this piece of paper, his heartbeat made his whole body tremble a little.
After so many years, he finally wants to see the content inside.
The mood now is beyond description.
Excitement, anticipation, anxiety, and fear, all thrive as if they were fertilized.
He took a breath and let it out slowly.
Then unfolded the letter paper.
This isn't actually a letter paper. I don't know a page torn from any book. The edges are all the same as a dog's chewing, and it looks like a dad.
There is only one sentence above.
-Dear Prince, this person outside can believe it
?
What the hell.
Yan Hang stared at the line.
There are 12 characters in total, including the title.
Even if there is no signature, the punctuation is added when I meditate silently.
This letter that he had waited so many years to finally see the content, is this actually the case
"I haven't moved the contents," the man said through the door, "I don't know what it is, he said you will understand it after reading it."
Yan Hang is not sure whether this person has read the content, but he can be sure that this person has never believed in it.
This kind of neurotic content is as cordial as it is.
This kind of neurotic wording is as kind.
This kind of neuropathy is as cordial as a short message.
It's the usual style of his crazy father.
And this pen seems to be practiced, he is very familiar with it.
"Your uncle," Yan Hang couldn't help but smile when he looked at this line of words, "I fuck you, uncle Lao Yan."
After turning the letter paper over and studying it for a while, Yan Hang sighed again.
The envelope is very old, but the paper is very new, and the ink on it is also very new.
It can only be said that in the envelope that he has always wanted to know the content, in fact, there has never been a fixed content at all.
Dad probably writes different content every time according to different situations.
He received the letter and opened the door.
There was a man standing outside the door, who looked about the same age as his father, but he could tell at a glance that he was not the same person as his father.
Dad is full of free and easy quagmire, and this person almost writes "I am a serious person" on his face.
In any case, it is impossible to imagine that such a person would say that he is a friend of his father.
"My name is Cui," the man walked into the room, frowning and looked around, "you can call me old Cui."
"Full name?" Yan Hang insisted.
"Cui Siwon." This person said.
Yan Hang stared at him, this person still had a serious expression on his face, and at this moment Yan Hang believed that he and his father were really friends.
"Do you have any news from my dad?" Yan Hang poured a glass of water to Cui.
"No," said Old Cui, "this envelope was delivered to me by courier, with the address, the date when I came here, and a card."
"What are you doing here?" Yan Hang asked.
"Give you money, and then take you away." Old Cui said.
Yan Hang looked at him.
"He called me almost two months ago," Cui took a sip of water. "He didn't tell me anything else, he just said he wanted you to live a normal life."
Yan Hang didn't say a word, and after a while he asked, "Do you know something happened to him?"
"Guessed," Old Cui said, "He won't find me if there's nothing wrong."
"Did you not know anything before I found you?" Yan Hang asked.
"I haven't been in contact with him for five years, so I called that call two months ago," Cui said. "What kind of person your dad is, you should know better than me."
Yan Hang was lying on the sofa, feeling a little confusion in his mind again.
I don't know if it's because he is always in a daze these days and his brain is a little rusty.
"This is my business card," Old Cui handed over a card. "I live in the hotel next to it. Just call me if you think about it."
Yan Hang took the business card and glanced at Cui Yi.
"My personal suggestion," Cui Yi looked at him, "you should follow me."
"Why?" Yan Hang still looked down at his business card, lawyer
"In your current state, it may not be appropriate to stay here," Cui Yi said, "or your dad won't let me come."
Yan Hang remained silent.
Current state.
The current state is indeed very poor, every day like being trapped in something, very heavy.
But he didn't particularly want to leave. For him, this place was different from any place he had stayed in the past.
And there is only here, there are traces of father, if you leave, you may never feel it again.
"I'll go back to the hotel first," Cui Yi said, "Call me when you think about it. I've always been in the hotel."
"Well," Yan Hang replied, "Thank you."
Before Cui Yi left, he opened the curtains, and the golden sunlight came in in the morning.
Yan Hang closed his eyes, as if the nocturnal animal had been thrown under the scorching sun.
He took out his father's "letter" and read it for a while, then lay on the sofa and put the paper on his eyes.
The letter was given to Cui Yi in advance by the father, and it should have been planned long ago.
He didn't know what to do.
He wants to go, and he doesn't want to go.
He wants to find his father.
Dead looking for the corpse.
To live to meet people.
From any angle, he wants to find his father.
But his instinct told him that Dad would not come back here again.
The matter here is over.
Yan Hang opened the self-heating rice he bought on the first day of the first day of the morning, picked a box of fish-flavored shredded pork, and ate it slowly.
He could imagine the smell of fish-flavored shredded pork.
But he can't eat it.
Yesterday's braised pork rice was the same.
He once had this experience of losing some senses. The sense of touch, smell, taste, and occasional or a few days of failure will make people gradually lose their sense of reality.
This is probably what my dad is most worried about.
He unscrewed a bottle of iced black tea and took a few sips.
After eating, he took a shower, changed his clothes, wore a mask and went out.
The sun outside is very strong, and the eyes can feel a strong pain.
He stood slowly in the shade of the trees, and then slowly crossed the street and walked towards the river after he got used to it.
The cordon to the river has been removed, no traces can be seen on the road, and the people passing by, as usual, seem to have forgotten what happened before.
Yan Hang glanced back, and behind him was the alley, where Dad last disappeared.
He stood at the intersection for a while, then turned and continued to walk towards the river.
There is still no one along the road along the river. Now that the temperature is rising and when the wind blows, he can smell the smell from the river, which makes him feel very deeply why there is no one on this road.
He also deeply felt the extraordinary loneliness of the first day of the junior high school, so that he could endure the smell of finding a tree hole in such a place.
The tree hole is not difficult to find, and it was only a short walk away.
Yan Hang walked to the back of the tree, bent over and looked at the tree hole, and then leaned closer and smelled it. There was a fragrance of wood.
He buttoned his face.
"A native dog in the first year of the new year," he said softly, "I don't know if you can hear what I'm saying here."
"I want to say that I have been to many places and met many people, but now if I are asked to name three names immediately," Yan Hang gently digs on the trunk, "Probably except for Yan Zhiyuan and Yan Hang, It's only the first day of the junior high school."