Zhang Xiujuan's health got worse after the summer vacation, and her spirit was so bad that she could even fall asleep in the yard sometimes. Xie Mengde kept watching her to prevent the old lady from catching a cold or getting heatstroke.
Ji Qinyang's music theory results came out before the third year of high school. Xie Meng didn't ask, and the boys didn't say anything. The head teacher of Class 6 asked him to talk several times. It seems that many music colleges have handed out olive branches.
The homework was heavy and the books were piled up like a mountain. It seemed that the time spent in a hurry was precious. Xie Mengde spent a lot of time reviewing the language, and Ji Qinyang sat opposite him to help guide.
"Meditate a poem by Nalan Rongruo to express love."
Xie Meng wrote in the book: "If life is only as first seen..."
Ji Qinyang laughed: "It's not this sentence."
Xie Meng glanced at him: "This sentence is familiar."
Ji Qinyang smiled and shook his head. He took Xie Meng's book. The boy's handwriting was as delicate and beautiful as people's. For whom is spring?"
At the beginning of October, Ji Qinyang began to prepare for an interview at the Central Conservatory of Music in Beijing. He took a month-long vacation, and Mo Suyuan planned to accompany him all the way.
"We can go to Beijing to have a good time this time." Mother was sorting out the clothes and luggage to take away: "I remember you went there when you were young, but I don't know what it is like now."
Ji Qinyang sat by the window in a daze, he hummed without interest, and hung his headphones around his neck.
Mo Suyuan glanced at her son, and after thinking for a while, she slowly said, "Don't you want to take the mid-voice test?"
Ji Qinyang turned his face, raised his eyebrows and said, "Of course not... Don't think about it too much."
Mo Suyuan sighed: "I just think you are not very motivated. When I received the recommendation letter before, I saw that you were quite interested, but now I have to take the test, but I don't see you paying much attention." Mo Suyuan stretched out her hand, She took care of her son's bangs and said softly: "I know that you also reported the upper voice... But what you really want, my mother still hopes you can think clearly."
Ji Qinyang put the headset on his head, he pulled the handrail, and as the carriage swayed, Shantang Street was always crowded with people waiting for the train at any time of the year except for the Chinese New Year.
There was a stall with fried stinky tofu on the bridge. The hawker was already very familiar with Ji Qinyang, so he greeted him from afar: "Do you want to eat today?"
Ji Qinyang smiled and waved his hand: "No."
He got off the bridge and walked on the bank; through the narrow alley, he finally stopped at the gate of Xie Meng's house.
Zhang Xiujuan sat on the wicker chair in the yard, the half-closed door blocked Ji Qinyang's figure, she did not see him.
The boy stood quietly for a while, and he heard Xie Meng shouting from the room: "Good mother."
The old-fashioned radio next to Zhang Xiujuan was playing "Dream of Red Mansions". The old lady was fascinated by it. After a long time, she agreed, "Hey."
Xie Meng came out, holding tableware and chopsticks in his hand.
"Good mother." The boy coaxed, "It's time to eat."
Zhang Xiujuan was unhappy like a child: "I can't eat it."
Xie Meng dragged a chair over: "If you can't eat it, you have to eat it. I'll feed you."
The old lady muttered something again, and in the end, she still obediently ate the food that her little grandson handed to her mouth.
"Old." Zhang Xiujuan sighed while eating: "I've been dreaming a lot these days, dreaming of your parents, saying that they would pick me up and honor me."
Xie Meng smiled: "It's not enough for me to honor you."
Zhang Xiujuan snorted: "It's not your turn to be filial."
Xie Meng didn't speak. He suddenly stopped after feeding a few mouthfuls of food, and held Zhang Xiujuan's hand: "Let me honor you. I honor you until you are one hundred years old. You have to live to one hundred years old, or you will lose money."
"Silly child." The old lady was amused: "Who can live a hundred years, it's all a lie in the play." Zhang Xiujuan straightened the hair next to her ear, and she patted the back of Xie Meng's hand repeatedly. "Good mother-in-law, I don't want to drag you down... You were watching the university in the capital a while ago, didn't you? That's where Chairman Mao stayed. I've never been to my old lady in my life. If my grandson can go, I'd be so proud. one thing."
Zhang Xiujuan looked at Xie Meng, the wrinkles around the corner of her eyes seemed to be engraved with the lines of annual rings, but her eyes were still as clear as water: "Sun Sun, you have to remember." She smiled and said: "Good mother is not your future, in the future You will meet someone who is more important than me, you, you have to walk a long, long road with that person, live a happy life, and live a long life, just as it is written in the play."
It is always said in the book that people tend to do impulsive things when they are young, bread and love, and they often want love, but they will regret it when they are mature. Such a statement, many years later, when Ji Qinyang was about to enter the age of no confusion, experienced the low point in his life and career, and finally succeeded, someone asked him the same question.
"I don't think so." The man's facial features are still delicate and dazzling after the washing of the years, the brilliance of time has precipitated between his brows, Ji Qinyang held his chin, he looked at the reporter who asked the question, the little girl was stared at His face was all red, and he looked down at the question paper in a panic.
"Well... That is to say, do you prefer to choose love?"
Ji Qinyang raised his eyebrows: "It's not that I prefer to choose love, but I will still choose love."
"Don't you regret it?" the reporter asked.
"Why do you regret it?" Ji Qinyang smiled. He turned his face to the audience, and the camera could clearly see that he was wearing an ordinary silver earring on his left earlobe.
"I have lost bread." Ji Qinyang said slowly, "but I have always had love."
However, when he was only sixteen or seventeen, as the book said, Ji Qinyang was impulsive.
The teenager was lying on the bank of the stone-built river with his earphones on, leaning on the small bridge and flowing water, letting the evening wind blow through his hot and fiery chest.
That belongs to this summer, the last wind.
When Ji Qinyang went to Beijing, Xie Meng did not see him off. He had a quiz that day, and only after the test did he receive a text message from the boy with only four short words: "Wait for me to come back."
Qi Fei stretched out his arms and rested his head on the back of his head, and muttered: "It seems that the boss is far away... Maybe we can only see each other every year during the winter and summer vacations?"
Xie Meng replied to the text message, packed his schoolbag, and looked at him at the side: "I also want to go to Beijing, how about you, Xie Meng?"
Zhuo Xiaoyuan patted Zhang Zanggang's scalp expressionlessly: "You should get your grades up first, and you will take the test if you say it is in Beijing?"
Xie Meng smiled, and he flexed his fingers and flicked Zhang Zangzhang's forehead: "Come on."
Zhang Xiujuan went to the hospital for another check-up a week ago, and the result was not very good. The doctor meant that the old man was old, so Xie Meng was psychologically prepared.
"My grandmother has always been in good health." Xie Meng frowned and said calmly, "Last year she woke up and punched me every morning."
The doctor sighed: "Many old people who are over 80 are like this. I have encountered this before. Usually, my health is very good. The uncle who runs every morning suddenly goes to bed at night... This has nothing to do with disease, life, old age, sickness and death. , when the age comes, there will always be that day."
Xie Meng didn't speak. He looked at Zhang Xiujuan, who was sitting in the corridor. The old lady was chatting with the patient next door, and her tone was proud.
"My little grandson... The third year of high school, his grades are good."
"I have to go to the capital to study after graduation... How can I fail the test?!"
"Yes, yes, but filial piety. My wife is lucky."
Xie Meng came out and called her: "Good mother."
The patient sighed and praised: "Your grandson looks amazing."
Zhang Xiujuan was very happy, Xie Meng supported her and waited for the old lady to say goodbye to the patient.
After leaving the hospital gate, Xie Meng called a taxi, and the car could only drive to the intersection of Shantang Street. When getting off the car, Xie Meng squatted down in front of Zhang Xiujuan.
"Good mother." He turned around and smiled and said to the old lady, "I'll carry you."
The setting sun dyed the clouds in the sky red, the Qinghe River under the bridge was flowing with rays of light, Xie Meng slowly walked along the bluestone road with Zhang Xiujuan on his back, the Wu Peng boat passed under his feet, and the old lady hummed the tune of purple bamboo on her grandson's back. .
Zhang Xiujuan hummed intermittently, Xie Meng was silent from beginning to end, the old lady hummed halfway, suddenly remembered something, and asked Xie Meng: "What about Xiao Ji, why haven't you come for a long time?"
Xie Meng entrusted the person up: "He went to Beijing to take the exam, and he will be back next month."
Zhang Xiujuan smiled and said, "Look at everyone else going to the capital first... You have to do your best."
Xie Meng didn't answer, and only said good when he was about to get home.
In the evening, Zhang Xiujuan went to bed early, Xie Meng called Ji Qinyang in his room, and the boy on the other end had a hoarse voice.
"I sing a lot these days." Ji Qinyang explained: "What about you, do you miss me?"
Xie Meng lay on the bed and raised his arms to cover his eyes: "What do you say... Don't waste long-distance calls."
Ji Qinyang smiled softly.
Xie Meng didn't speak for a while, until he heard Ji Qinyang ask him, "How is the good mother's health?"
"It's okay." Xie Meng said, "It's the same."
Ji Qinyang: "I'll be back in half a month." The boy whispered, "Wait for me to come back to accompany you."
After mid-October, the weather gradually turned cooler, and the sun was good on weekends. Zhang Xiujuan rarely got up early, and Xie Meng helped her bring the rattan chair and radio to the yard after punching.
"What do you want to listen to?" Xie Meng fiddled with the play button of the radio. The old lady hadn't been so energetic for a long time, and he relaxed a lot along with it.
Zhang Xiujuan thought for a while: "Let's listen to my daughter's love."
Xie Meng smiled and said, "How many times have you listened to it, you can't get tired of listening to it." Complaining is a complaint, Xie Meng still played Wan Xiaoli's version of "Daughter's Love", the radio was not very good, and it took a long time to fiddle with it. speak out.
"I'm going to do the laundry." Xie Meng straightened Zhang Xiujuan's white hair: "Is there anything you need to call me?"
Zhang Xiujuan didn't answer, she narrowed her eyes in the sun with a contented expression.
Xie Meng entered the back room, soaked his clothes one by one, and listened to the desolate voice of the male singer in the yard.
"The mandarin duck and the pair of butterflies fly together, and the garden is full of intoxicating spring..." The old-fashioned radio was stuck, and it played with some difficulty: "...Ask the holy monk, is my daughter beautiful... My daughter... is not beautiful..."
The radio stopped the music abruptly, leaving only the humming sound of mechanical rotation. Xie Meng frowned, and he shouted: "Good mother."
The sun filled the walls in the yard, the wind rustled the fallen leaves on the ground, and Zhang Xiujuan sat motionless on the rattan chair.
Xie Meng stood up: "Good mother?"
No one answered him.
The radio clicked and the play button popped out, but it was quiet and never sounded again.
The author has something to say: Dengxian is a homonym of Suzhou dialect, which means good-looking