Hey Handsome, You Dropped Your Wig

Chapter 12: Entering the socialist market economy

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An He didn't move, and kept reaching for the back seat to get his clothes.

Na Chen didn't move either, just leaned back in his chair and looked at him.

This was the first time that An He was face to face with Na Chen at close range while awake. His eyelashes and pupils were all clearly visible to him.

He silently looked at Na Chen's face inch by inch, from his forehead to his eyebrows, eyes... His gaze stopped at the bridge of Na Chen's nose.

"What is this hole on your nose..." An He asked.

"Nostrils," Nachen answered him, "You have two, too."

An He pointed at his nose and said, "I mean this little eye, did you get a nose stud?"

"Hmm." Na Chen touched his nose.

"Will that be..." An He thought about it but didn't ask, "Forget it."

"No runny nose." said Na Chen.

An He was stunned for a moment and then smiled: "Are you sure I want to ask this?"

"Sure," Na Chen also smiled, "Too many people have asked."

After a few words, silence returned to the carriage. An He reached out and took the clothes and put them on Na Chen's legs. Na Chen's posture did not change, and he just turned his head to look at him.

"Everything is done." An He sat up straight and looked at the snowflakes dancing in the light of the street lamp in front of him.

"Really not kissing?" Na Chen stuffed the bag of clothes under his butt and sat down.

"No kiss, get off the car and go home, boy." An He said. He didn't know what Na Chen was thinking.

"Are you in a hurry to go home?" Na Chen still sat there without moving.

"No rush." Although An He didn't plan to have any intimate actions with Na Chen, he also didn't think of making up an excuse to escape.

"Can we chat for a while? I don't want to go back now." Na Chen's voice was very low.

"Yeah." An He picked up a disc and put it into the CD player. He heard some pleading in Na Chen's tone and was a little surprised. He turned his head and stared at him for a few seconds.

The disc that An He picked up was an ACD CD. He didn't listen to it often, but when he listened to it while driving, he always felt like he would follow the rhythm and rush into the opposite lane.

After the prelude of the music sounded, Na Chen snapped his fingers, clapped his hands on his legs to the beat of the drums, then raised his head, closed his eyes and began to sing: "see ride out that sunset, on your color screen..."

An He was still thinking about finding something to talk about, but when he saw Na Chen's attitude, he gave up and leaned against the car window in a daze.

Na Chen started by clapping his legs, then later on when he was singing happily, he started clapping his hands on the car windows, roof, and seat, and he also stepped on the drums with his feet. Suddenly, he entered the state he was in when he was standing on the stage and playing the drums.

When he slapped the tissue box so hard that it almost flew onto An He's face, An He did not stop him. He just threw the tissue box into the back seat and also pulled off the perfume holder which was already a little loose and threw it into the back.

If you ignore the inexplicable relationship between him and Na Chen now, he actually likes to see Na Chen like this, pursing his lips, closing his eyes, every movement is very handsome.

Na Chen's singing voice was very nice, without the obvious tearing feeling like Li Fan's, but just straightforward with a hoarseness, and a very slight nasal tone, arrogant and innocent.

After singing a song, Na Chen leaned back on the seat and didn't move, his chest rising and falling slightly.

An He raised his hands and clapped, and Na Chen smiled: "Do you mind if I smoke a cigarette?"

"Do you mind if I open the skylight?"

"No problem."

An He opened the skylight, took out a cigarette box, took out a cigarette and handed it to Na Chen, then took one himself, lit it and put it in his mouth.

"What do you teach?" Na Chen slowly blew out a thin stream of smoke towards the skylight.

"Politics," Anhe said.

Na Chen, holding a cigarette, looked at him with great interest: "Really?"

"Do you want me to give you a lesson on 'Entering the Socialist Market Economy'?" An He smiled.

"No," Na Chen choked on the cigarette, coughed for a long time, and then said with a smile, "How about I teach you the principle and operation of the crematorium?"

An He looked out the window without saying anything. If it weren't for Na Chen's words, he would have almost forgotten Na Chen's expertise. When he suddenly heard this and looked at the snowflakes flying around outside the car window in the cold wind, he suddenly felt a chill on his back.

"Are you scared?" Na Chen sat up straight and gently hooked his fingers behind his neck.

Na Chen probably wanted to scare him, but there was still warmth on his fingertips. An He turned his head and tried to slap him away, but he hooked his finger on the face again.

"Why did you choose this major? Is it easy to find a job?" An He pinched his wrist and pushed his hand back onto the seat.

"I never thought about it," Na Chen's voice turned cold, he lowered his head and stared at his hands, after staring for a while he suddenly laughed, "I just knew it would piss my dad off half to death..."

"Just to piss off your dad?" An He looked at him childishly.

"Yeah," Na Chen nodded seriously, "I'm happy when he's angry."

"Idiot." An He said while looking at the dashboard.

"Hmm?" Na Chen smiled while biting the cigarette butt.

"Idiot," An He repeated, "I don't know why, but even if your father is wrong, it's stupid to punish yourself with someone else's mistakes."

"Do you educate your students in the same way?" Na Chen lowered the car window and flicked the cigarette butt out.

An He didn't say anything. He certainly wouldn't directly call his student an idiot. If Na Chen was his student, he would patiently find the root cause of such stupid behavior.

After flicking away the cigarette butt, Na Chen did not close the window. He just stared out the window in a daze. The cold wind blew in, but he did not move at all, as if he felt nothing.

It was not until An He could no longer bear the cold and closed the window that he sighed softly and said in a low voice: "But I won't have the chance to piss him off in the future."

An He turned his head.

"My father is dead," Na Chen said, and suddenly raised his hand and patted him on the shoulder twice, his tone becoming cheerful again, "Thank you for chatting with me, Teacher An."

"You're welcome." An He was still emotionally stuck on the first half of Chen's sentence, not knowing what to say.

"Let's go. I'll come and play with you some other day." Na Chen opened the car door and jumped out with the bag of clothes.

After getting off the car, Na Chen did not walk towards the gate of the community. An He watched him stand by the car door for two seconds, then he jumped around the front of the car on the snow and jumped to the driver's seat.

When An He was about to roll down the car window to ask him what was going on, Na Chen opened the car door, leaned half of his body in, and gave him a kiss on the face with a loud sound.

"Good night." Na Chen closed the car door and ran into the community gate.

The winter vacation was a bit boring for An He. He didn't want to go out because it was too cold, and he didn't feel festive about the New Year. Apart from pasting two pairs of Spring Festival couplets on his door and the door of his home, he could hardly find any trace of the New Year.

But two days before his 30th birthday, he still went home every day, dragged his mother to clean the house, and went out to buy food and daily necessities, no matter whether they were needed or not, as long as he could get his mother out.

My mother was very unhappy with his behavior. He delayed playing cards, and she was like a drug addict who had stopped taking drugs. She was furious all the way.

"If you have time to drag me around the world, why don't you find a girlfriend?" my mother said as she walked quickly with an unhappy look on her face. "Why do you keep bothering me when you have nothing better to do?"

An He doesn't talk. From childhood to adulthood, his mother has never asked about or cared about his affairs. Now he mentions a girlfriend, it's just because he doesn't want to go out.

"Why don't you say anything? You don't like me caring so much, right? Then let's not get married. I'm too lazy to care about you, and you don't care about me either," my mother waved her hand and walked back and forth between the shelves in the supermarket without looking at the products, as if she was completing a task. "When I get old, you can just pack a bag for me and throw me to a nursing home. You don't have to pay for it."

"Why did you give birth to a son?" An He frowned.

"You think I want to have a baby! Didn't I tell you before? Surprise! I didn't want a baby at all."

An He felt a tightness in his chest, closed his eyes and took a breath: "Let's go back."

My mother turned around happily and strode towards the exit.

On the morning of New Year's Eve, An He returned home early. The house was much quieter. Most of his mother's mahjong friends were not crazy enough to play mahjong for a whole day on a day like today, but a few veteran mahjong fans still set up a table in the house.

An He didn't say anything. He went into the kitchen, chopped the stuffing and kneaded the dough, and made dumplings in silence.

The kitchen window faces the downstairs, and you can see people coming in and out. Other people's sons, daughters, grandchildren all come back early with big and small bags and flowers. It's quite lively.

An He would look downstairs from time to time. Although he didn't hold out much hope, he still had a glimpse of expectation that his father would appear.

But until noon when he had finished wrapping all the dumplings, his father still hadn't shown up.

He sighed, thinking that it was better for him not to come back. In his memory of the few times his father came home for the New Year, his quarrels with his mother were louder than setting off firecrackers.

Sometimes he couldn't understand what these two people meant.

"Anhe, your phone keeps ringing! Why don't you take a look?" Mom shouted in the living room.

An He wiped his hands, went back to the living room, got his cell phone and went back to his room. All the messages were New Year greetings. He turned his phone to silent mode, replied to all the messages slowly, and then lay on the bed in a daze.

This room belongs to him, but ever since he moved out, my mother probably hasn't come in many times over the years. He only comes back once during the Chinese New Year to clean up the room and change the bedding.

Even now, lying here, I can still smell the dust.

The phone vibrated again, and An He picked it up lazily, a little surprised.

The text message was sent by Na Chen, and it was a serious New Year's greeting.

He smiled and replied with a Happy New Year.

A few seconds later, another message came back: What are you doing

daze.

Na Chen didn't reply. An He threw the phone aside. He felt a little sleepy listening to the sound of shuffling cards in the living room, so he pulled the small quilt on the bed to cover himself and closed his eyes.

Na Chen was standing on the balcony of his home. The sun was shining brightly today and it felt very comfortable.

Firecrackers have been going off since morning. Even through two layers of glass, the smell of firecrackers still fills the house. But Nachen really likes this smell and has loved it since he was a child.

The cell phone was ringing, but Na Chen didn't move. He didn't remember where he threw the phone. It took him a long time to remember that he put it next to the toilet after sending a text message to An He.

The call was from his uncle, he answered it: "Happy New Year, uncle."

"Hey, happy New Year, happy New Year," my uncle laughed dryly, "Didn't you go out?"

"Where are you going?" Na Chen smiled.

My uncle seemed a little embarrassed and paused: "Xiaochen, originally... your aunt and I wanted to ask you to come over to celebrate the New Year, but..."

Na Chen curled his lips in the mirror on the toilet wall: "My father just died, I know."

"Ah, that's right, so..." Uncle coughed twice.

"Thank you, uncle." Na Chen hung up the phone.

In fact, my uncle's call was unnecessary. He has been spending the New Year alone for several years. In the past, my dad would go to my grandparents' house during the New Year, but my dad didn't want to see him, so he would go to my grandmother's house. Ever since my grandmother was taken in by my uncle, he has never been there again.

It is so unlucky to come home on New Year's Day.

My aunt said this in front of my grandmother and several aunts, and of course, in front of him.

Because he has a crazy mother, and now there is an even better reason, his father is dead.

"Happy New Year, Happy New Year, I wish you all a happy new year..." Na Chen walked around the room with a cigarette in his mouth, changed his clothes, wrapped himself tightly with a scarf and a mask, and went out.

There were no taxis available on the street at this time, so he drove his motorcycle out of the community gate.

He is not afraid of the cold, probably because when he was a child, his mother often threw him outside the door in his pajamas in winter, so he is used to the cold. Now he doesn't feel much when the wind blows on his body.

The streets are not deserted, but they are full of people rushing home. This feeling makes people feel uneasy for no reason, as if if they walk slower they will be isolated in a space with no one.

Na Chen drove very fast all the way to the suburbs. There were fewer and fewer people, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

When the car was parked, Li Fan called and without any polite words, the first thing he said was: "Come over for dinner."

"No." Na Chen locked the car. He would refuse every time, but as long as Li Fan didn't go home, he would call him every year.

"Where is it?"

"The Fifth House."

"What about at night?" Li Fan asked.

"Go to sleep. Don't worry about me. Hurry up and spend time with your mother and your wife." Na Chen looked up at the low-key sign of the Fifth Hospital, hung up the phone and walked in.

Today in the Fifth Hospital is similar to any other day. There are more family members visiting the patients than usual. There are window grilles on the windows and doors, and the foreplay of the Spring Festival Gala is playing on TV.

When Na Chen saw his mother in the hall, she was sitting in a corner watching TV quietly. She was wearing a very thick cotton-padded coat, and her face was a little red, probably because she was covered in sweat.

Na Chen stood about ten meters away. The nurse went over and squatted beside her and whispered a few words to her. After her eyes turned to her, Na Chen slowly walked over and sat next to her mother: "Mom."

My mother looked at him for a long time before she suddenly seemed to recognize who he was. Her eyes suddenly turned red: "Chenchen?"

"Well," Na Chen touched her hand tentatively. The dumplings in the lunch box in front of his mother were still steaming. "Are you eating dumplings?"

"I only ate one," Mom pulled her hand out and touched his face, "I'm not hungry and can't eat it. Do you want to eat it?"

Na Chen nodded, reached out, pinched a dumpling and put it in his mouth.

His mother stared at him intently, and even after he swallowed the dumpling, she still kept staring at him. Na Chen hesitated and didn't take the second dumpling. He was very familiar with this look from his mother, and it made him uneasy.

"Is it poisonous?" asked my mother.

"No." Na Chen shook his head.

His mother didn't say anything and continued to stare at him. When Na Chen was about to take another dumpling to eat to prove that it was not poisonous, his mother suddenly slapped the lunch box, and the whole box of dumplings fell to the ground.

"You're giving me these □□ to eat?" Mom pointed at him.

"No." Na Chen bent down to pick up the lunch box, and picked up the dumplings on the ground into the lunch box one by one. He had just picked up two when his mother raised her foot and kicked the side of his neck.

The kick was so powerful that Na Chen felt his vision go dark. He quickly used his hands to support himself on the ground to avoid being knocked to the ground.

Before he could stand up, my mother kicked him on the shoulder again, and then he was pulled back by the nurse and caregiver who came over.

His mother was very excited. She pointed at him and cursed him incoherently. Nachen couldn't hear clearly, nor did he want to hear clearly.

"You go back first, she is emotionally unstable..." A nurse pushed him.

Na Chen said nothing, turned around and walked out slowly. The nurse behind him whispered to his mother. He heard his mother start to cry. When he walked out of the hall, his mother suddenly called out in a sobbing voice: "Chenchen!"

Na Chen staggered, and the place on his neck where he was kicked felt painful. He didn't dare to look back and ran out of the hospital.

There was no one outside the hospital, and the north wind blew the fallen leaves on the ground and hit him.

He sat on the seat, his scarf wrapped in circles, his hat pulled down almost to cover his eyes, and the sound of the wind around him subsided.

He took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth. He tried to light the lighter more than ten times before it lit up. After lighting the cigarette and taking a deep puff, he raised his hand and threw the lighter far away.

My mother has not been in a good condition this year. When he came before, she could recognize him and would cry and ask him if he was doing well, but every time he came this year, my mother was like this. The last time he came, she directly stabbed his face with a small spoon. Fortunately, it was a plastic spoon, but the broken spoon handle still cut a cut on his face.

Na Chen covered his waist, and the wound hidden under the scorpion inexplicably began to hurt along with his neck.

He sat outside the hospital until it got dark, then Na Chen started the car and drove out along the road. The voice of his mother crying and calling his name could not be shaken off his mind.

He was a little irritable and didn't want to go home or go to the used car lot.

There was no one on the street anymore, and the sound of firecrackers became more and more frequent, gradually becoming one and the same, making people feel lonely.

He thought about it and drove to Yege.

It was too early and there were few people in the night club. The Spring Festival Gala was playing on the big screen. There were probably no more than twenty people in the entire hall, including the waiters.

Na Chen found a booth in the corner, ordered a bottle of wine and drank it slowly in the dark.

He didn't know when it started, but Na Chen had mastered the skill of staring blankly. As more and more people gathered around him, he realized that he had been sitting there for two or three hours.

Most of the people who still came to the bar on New Year's Eve were bored, and some people started to come over to chat with him. Na Chen remained silent, staring at the wine in his glass. The few people who came over sat for a while and walked away without any interest.

There was no point in sitting here anymore, so Na Chen stood up and walked out of Ye Ge, straddled the car, took out his cell phone, and flipped through the names in the phone book one by one.

He seldom makes phone calls, and especially doesn't like to answer them. Whenever the phone rings, his heart starts to palpitate, followed by uncontrollable upset.

So he only had about ten numbers in his phone book, and after searching through them, he couldn't find anyone he could call at that time. Either they were too familiar to him, or they were not familiar to him.

Finally his finger stopped on Ankh's name.

After staring at the word "Anhe" for a long time, he pressed the dial button.

The phone rang for a long time before An He answered it, sounding surprised: "Da Qi?"

Na Chen was too lazy to resist this title: "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," An He said with a sleepy nasal tone, "Didn't you send a text message?"

"Really?" Na Chen smiled, and heard that An He seemed very quiet. "What are you doing?"

"Sleep." An He replied.

Na Chen was stunned. Going to bed at eleven o'clock

An He's answer made him feel moved. There was someone around him who had nothing to do on a night like this

He paused for two seconds before saying, "Come out?"

"Where are you going?" An He asked.

"I don't know. Why don't you come to my house and sleep?" Na Chen flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground and stomped it out. There were already sounds of firecrackers all around, so loud that he had to put the phone to his ear in order to hear An He talking.

"What?" An He was stunned.

"Come to my house and sleep. If you don't want to sleep, we can make love," Na Chen bit his lip. "If you don't want to come to my place, I can go to your place, or you can go anywhere. I just don't want to be alone."

After this series of words, there was no sound from An He.

Just when Na Chen was about to check the screen to see if An He had hung up the phone, An He said, "I'll go over there."