Li Yiming didn't go to make any soup, but just poured two teapots of warm water for himself and his father, ate steamed buns with water, and quietly watched his father change the text.

The building is full of people, and the sound of cicadas outside the window is swaying, one after another, but it seems that the room is quiet.

Li Jianguo's expression was extremely serious, sometimes the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, as if he wanted to laugh, and sometimes his eyebrows were slightly wrinkled, as if he had an understanding.

Micro-expression, Li Yiming remembered this word, which means that his mental activities can be detected through people's subtle movements.

He saw his father subconsciously dig into his pocket, take out a pack of large front door cigarettes, take out one and stuff it in his mouth, and reach for the match.

Now we rarely use any lighters, matches are inseparable from every household, and the stickers on the matchbox are called sparks, which are also collected by many people in the future.

The matchbox that my father held in his hand was pasted by the residents of the local street themselves, and there was no beautiful pattern, just ordinary horse dung paper.

My father would sometimes do this when he thought about it, he would smoke, and Li Yiming could almost guess his next move.

If he is in a relaxed mood, he will appear light and crisp when he strikes a match, and the flame will be lit with yellow and red, standing upright, and the flame and smoke will dance happily at the same time at the moment when the flame and the cigarette are in subtle contact.

Then he would squint his eyes and take a deep breath, and the smoke ring would gradually spread.

But if you have to swipe a few times in a row with a strong match, and your brow is furrowed, it is in a bad mood.

Of course, the flame may also become distorted.

Li Yiming likes to strike a match, the moment the flame is lit, there is a feeling of life and hope.

In those movies and television, he also often saw shots of matches being struck.

The underground party members lit a cigarette first, their eyes came out of the flames and smoke, and their faces were reflected in the flames that flickered and dimmed, the good guys were brighter, their faces were closer to the audience, and the bad guys were in the shadows.

There will be many years before there will be a Spring Festival Gala sketch program called "The Protagonist and the Supporting Role", when such an idea arises, Li Yiming seems to see a train called time rushing towards him with a rumbling sound, and on the carriage, it is marked with different times.

Every minute and every second, it passed through itself.

What is taken away is the fragment of life, unconsciously.

Many of the things that bear the imprint of the times will inadvertently disappear into time until many years later, when they will be displayed as collectibles, reminiscent of a time when many people never returned.

Li Yiming exhaled softly.

Li Jianguo took out a match and was about to draw it, when he suddenly paused and put it back.

Take the cigarette out of your mouth and stuff it back into the case.

"Dad, smoking.. Not good. Li Yiming nodded and said.

Li Jianguo looked up in amazement: "What?"

"I said, there's nicotine in the cigarette... Toxic, uh..."Li Yiming was suddenly stunned for a moment, as if he had read in some book that there is a solanesol in tobacco leaves that can produce coenzyme Q10, which is a substance found in human cells, which is very useful, and can be used in medicine for the adjuvant treatment of cardiovascular and liver diseases.

By the way, it's a novel called Rebirth God-level Scholar, and the protagonist later won the Nobel Prize.

Li Yiming felt as if he had seen something very important in that book, and he wanted to find out.

"Then I'll smoke less..."Li Jianguo put the cigarette back in his pocket, just now he just suddenly remembered that his son's manuscripts are very important, don't be burned by cigarette butts.

Li Yiming gently bit the bun, and he didn't know the taste of food.

Nobel Prize... That's very important, if according to the book, it seems that it was not until thirty years later that a writer named Mo Yan won the literary prize, and as for the peace prize, it was used to disgust people.

Li Jianguo picked up the enamel teapot and took a sip of water, and put it in front of Li Yiming, the peony was pink, three green leaves, and the big red double happiness word, the side was a little peeling, and the inside was black iron.

The cicadas were still noisy, the hut was still quiet, and father and son sat at the table and the other on the edge of the bed.

…...

Li Jianguo looked very carefully, after 20 years of ups and downs, he always had a special vigilance in his mind, he wanted to protect the child from being harmed.

One word, one sentence, over and over again from the heart.

are all short and concise works, the chicken soup essay is not long, two or three hundred words at most, Li Yiming also deliberately controls the number of words, one page is one, ten, this is enough, although you can pick up hundreds of articles, but it is not necessarily good to make up for it.

And then the rest are some small common sense about life, production, planting, and life, which are also one page and one article, and a total of ten articles.

It was too long, and no one in his mind had stuffed the whole paper into the story, it was all dismantled and written, and he couldn't confirm that it was necessarily right, maybe the author was talking nonsense.

So Li Yiming only chose those that were written in many books, and in order to prevent them from learning from each other, he carefully selected ten articles, hoping that these ten articles were not all made up by the author's brain.

If these ten articles are all nonsense by those authors, it means that thirty years later, society is simply terrible, not only does there be no basic trust between people, but even paid words cannot be trusted.

But Li Yiming thinks that this should not be the case, after all, thirty years later, there is an Internet, and the author should have fully checked through various encyclopedia materials, and he also tried to find those online articles with a more rigorous style and a more dry and hard writing style.

These people are either only born now, at most five years old, Li Yiming's heart is quite complicated, because he thinks of what he is doing, this great mission to serve the motherland, is actually to rely on the works of the children who may still wet the bed thirty years later.

It's complicated, but it's not enough to collapse.

People must not be able to find it, they all use pen names, and none of those names are normal.

It's like the reborn god-level scholar I just remembered just now.,The author's name is Shimura Bird.,This can't be a name, right?

If he is not Chinese, then the information in the book he wrote, he has to use other books to verify it.

Li Yiming became worried again, and now he began to feel a little afraid, how much of those works used to entertain the public are true?

......

He clearly knew that from the moment the letter was in the hands of the policeman's uncle yesterday, he had no time to waste.