Yi Hui was dreaming again.
It was still a fragmented fragment without logic, covered with a gray layer of fog, reminding him that this was a long, long time ago.
Looking up, I saw a slightly empty bedroom, with two pillows side by side on the bed, and a crooked Doraemon doll on the left, smiling pale and sullen under the direct light of the bedside lamp.
His eyes inadvertently swept to a cup of steaming boiling water on the table. In the dream, his body first consciously got up and chased out. The door opened in response. What greeted him was not a sunny morning, but a stormy midnight, far away. The tall buildings, the grass, the night sky, twisted and melted into a mass of thick black.
When he turned around, the door had disappeared, he had nowhere to go, and he didn't know where to go, and he didn't dare to sit still, so he had to chase the neon farther away.
The picture in front of him swayed with his footsteps, and he was sure that he did not blink, the swaying light spot was still submerged in the thick fog, disappearing inch by inch. But he still couldn't stop, he heard a voice from behind, someone was chasing him, trying to step on his shadow and crush his spine.
The road under his feet also became steep and difficult to navigate, and the black shadow sometimes floated by his side, and sometimes floated above his head, like vines entwining his body tightly, and like a snake spitting out letters sticking to his back.
He breathed hard, his chest hurt, and when the last ray of light in front of him was taken away by the darkness, he slipped and fell to the ground.
What came before the pain was the biting cold, the cold air penetrated into the heart and spleen along the pores of the whole body, in the vast world, only the sound of my heartbeat could be heard.
Dark clouds overwhelmed the city, and he was about to be engulfed by the darkness.
With the last bit of strength to prop up his neck and look around, there is no one coming in front, no one coming behind, only the triumphant laughter hovering in the air reminds him how isolated and helpless he is now.
No one will come to save him.
At 4:30 in the morning, Yi Hui got up and sat on the bed for a few minutes before regaining control of his brain over his limbs. He slowly got out of bed, put on his slippers, and pushed the door downstairs.
His steps were always light, and even the birds perched on the eaves outside the window were not disturbed. I went to the kitchen and poured a cup of cold water overnight, and after drinking two sips, my stomach felt a faint pain, and then I remembered that there are many physical problems in this picture. It was also because of my weak constitution that I covered the quilt in the late summer and early autumn because of my weak constitution. come.
He poured the water and boiled it again. After washing, Yi Hui had nothing to do. He sat in front of the dining table with his chin up, dazed by the humming sound of the kettle.
It's not the first time I've had the dream just now. Yi Hui recognized the bed a bit. He hadn't slept all night since he came here. He finally fell asleep last night, but he was disturbed by this pervasive nightmare, and he couldn't rest for a moment.
He pushed back the hair on his cheeks and pressed his temples.
The effort of closing your eyes and resting your mind is enough to boil the water. When pouring water into the cup, his wrist shook a little, and the hot water spilled onto the ground along the edge of the table. When it splashed on the instep, it was no longer hot. Yi Hui still shivered, as if a conditioned reflex. It took a long time for the pain to reach the central nervous system before he recovered from his daze.
After drinking a glass of water, my heart was still beating very fast, rampaging under the flesh. Yi Hui stroked his chest a few times, thinking helplessly, that he had changed to a relatively mature body, but his mental quality was not as good as before.
No one in this family got up earlier than him, and watered several pots of flowers in the yard. The iron jasmine plant, which was in full bloom when he first arrived, has now withered its petals, and only the branches and leaves are evergreen.
Yi Hui squatted in front of the flower pot and looked at it for a while, remembering the white snowflakes he once raised on the windowsill.
He was full of expectations for this summer, and that expectation was inextricably linked with the pot of white snowflakes.
But in the end he couldn't wait for it to bloom, so he left first.
Before returning to the house, I took back the clothes that had been dried overnight outside. In this season, the air in the southern part of the country still has the residual heat and humidity of summer, and there is almost no wind outside. The fabric is not dry to the touch, but wrinkled heavily, like soaked in damp water.
When I pushed the door and went in, I bumped into a girl in a short skirt with a suspender. The girl was startled by the sudden opening of the door: "Are you a ghost walking without a sound?"
Yi Hui had been in a quiet space with only one person for a long time, and a sharp voice suddenly entered his ears. He was stunned for a while, then lowered his eyes, and took the initiative to move sideways to make way: "I'm sorry."
No matter how angry the girl was when she got up, she would not be able to hit the cotton with such a punch. She glanced at the clothes Yi Hui was holding in her arms, and said embarrassingly, "I'm scared to death, what's the use of apologizing."
He was not forgiving in his mouth, but he acted calmly. He went out for a walk and came back to wash his face, and then went to the living room to fold clothes with Yi Hui.
The middle-aged woman who came downstairs was very relieved to see this scene: "Brothers and sisters should be like this. I just said that this place is not wrong. The sun shines on the sea and the wind blows, and everyone becomes spiritual."
The girl pouted: "He wrinkled my skirt, can I do it myself?"
Looking at the shirt the girl had just folded for him, Yi Hui couldn't help but twitched the corner of his mouth.
It's Sunday, and the surrounding residents are generally up late, and the hum of car motors seems to be the only discordant movement in this quiet town.
"Yimang, open the rear window and let in some fresh air," said the woman holding the steering wheel.
The girl named Yimang pulled open the window of the back seat of the van with difficulty, and said in disgust in the harsh friction: "This car is about to be scrapped."
The middle-aged woman tilted her head and said, "Just hold on, we'll replace it with a new one right away."
The girl rolled her eyes: "Come on, since I was in the third year of junior high, I said that I would change it immediately. Now I haven't changed it in my second year of high school. Those who didn't know it thought that our family would save money for a Maserati."
The woman was used to her sharp teeth and sharp mouth, and said with a smile, "Then Maserati, it's all up to my precious daughter."
The residence is about 20 to 30 kilometers away from the city. The closer to the city center, the greater the traffic flow, and the main road is almost blocked in three steps. It was easy to get to the door of the hospital, and there was a sign that the parking space was full outside, and the van reluctantly stopped across the road temporarily.
When Yi Hui got off the bus, the woman did not forget to open the window and reminded again: "Let's go to the supermarket. If you come out early, stay at the door and don't run around until we come to pick you up."
Before Yi Hui could answer, the girl in the back seat patted the back of the driver's seat impatiently: "He's not a child, let's go."
Watching the minivan merge into the traffic flow and disappear at the end of the road, Yi Hui crossed the road with his hands in his pockets on the zebra crossing.
When he walked into the hospital building, the cool breeze blew past his face, blowing a few strands of hair from his neck, turning his head to look at the people who were in a hurry, Yi Hui was still at a loss as to where he was.
This is the second time he has come to see Dr. Liu. The last time was a week ago, the second day after he came here.
Sitting on the chair in the consultation room, Yi Hui habitually lowered his head to observe the wooden patterns on the table. The male doctor with glasses put down his teacup and sat opposite him. He tapped the table twice with a pen before he regained his senses and raised his head.
"Today is a good day." The doctor started with a relaxed topic, "Your complexion is also better than before."
Although he was familiar with each other once, Yi Hui was still too restrained in his natural reverence for the doctor. He nodded and said, "Well, it's much better."
The next process was similar to the last time. The doctor chatted with him and asked some seemingly insignificant things.
Yi Hui's nerves were tense subconsciously, and he had to think about each question several times before answering.
After a few chats, the doctor noticed the situation, put down the notebook and pen in his hand, clasped his hands on the table and posed an equal conversation posture, and asked jokingly, "What's the matter? I'm afraid I will call a nurse to come and give you an injection. ?"
He was talking about Yihui being forcibly sent to the consultation room last week. The unfamiliar environment with no familiar people around him aroused his deep fear of the hospital. At that time, the doctor asked him what was wrong, and he just kept repeating one sentence. - "Huihui don't give injections".
Thinking of this, Yi Hui was stunned and shook his head: "I'm not afraid anymore."
No matter how dull and lacking common sense in life, he knew that this was a treatment similar to psychological counseling. Out of self-protection, he was subconsciously reluctant to open his heart, shrinking himself into a not-so-hard shell, trying to block all those who wanted to set foot in this forbidden area.
After chatting for a while, the doctor probably also noticed that he couldn't let his guard down, closed the notebook, and said that he would be here today.
Yi Hui breathed a sigh of relief and was about to stand up when he heard the doctor say, "This is the third year, right?"
Yi Hui, who knew almost nothing about this, was guilty of a guilty conscience. He stammered and answered, "Yes, yes."
The doctor smiled, as if he didn't notice his abnormality at all: "We are all so familiar, so don't just ask me, do you have anything to ask me? The progress of treatment, trivia in life, views on people and things around you, maybe I can give you some advice... By the way, you brought paintings to show me before, why, haven't you painted recently?"
Yi Hui was stunned for a moment, bowed his head and said: "Painting, still painting."
The doctor waited quietly for a while, and seeing that he had no intention of speaking, he picked up the documents on the table and prepared to put them back in the filing cabinet behind him. Just as he turned his back, Yi Hui's weak voice came from his ear: "Is it okay to ask anything?"
The doctor turned around and conveyed encouragement with gentle eyes: "Anything is fine, I will keep it a secret for you."
Yi Hui licked his lips, as if hesitating. After a full minute, he raised his head with determination, hooked his fingers and fiddled with the tuft of long hair hanging down on his chest: "Can I cut my hair... off?"