A few days before the winter break arrived, I left school. All of the school's residence halls would be closed during the winter break, and I had to leave the dorm where I was left alone. I still haven't gotten rid of my lovesickness for Hai Linlin, and it's only when I'm in the dormitory that I feel better, because the dormitory is a haven for me to wash off my pain, and without the protection of the dormitory, it's hard for me to determine how I can survive the long night.

I spent the entire winter vacation in my hometown. I only went home during the summer and winter vacations, and my memories of my hometown are more stuck in my childhood. It was a very nostalgic time, and whenever I think about my childhood, a smile always flashes on my lips. When I went to college, I went home intermittently, and my feelings for my hometown became extremely flat, and I even hated the old and backward customs that I left behind.

Every year when I go home during the winter and summer vacations, I always let myself stay at home, rarely interact with Fa Xiao, and calculate the time of school in my heart. But that winter break changed my attitude towards my hometown, and I thought that only the school dormitory was the only place where I could relieve the pain caused by Helenlin. But when I entered the door of my hometown and stayed in my hometown for two days, I realized that the space of my hometown is more powerful in removing the pain of love.

The sun had just set when I first stepped into the house, and I allowed myself to appear calm and steady, but my mother noticed a change in my life that I had never seen before. The physical changes alone surprised her: "Oh my God, why are you so thin." ”

When I got home, I got a short haircut and shaved my long beard to give myself a new look, but I ignored the changes in my body and finally let my mother find out. But it was far from that simple, at the dinner table, she put down the insoles in her hand, took out a photo album, flipped to the photo of her and my father, pointed to me and said, "Your father used to do this for me." "I have two of those pictures at home, one in the glass frame in front of the upper room, and the other in this album that my mother collects. It was by a lake, and the mother was holding the father's hand, and they were smiling. Old color photographs are not very sharp, and the picture appears a little rounded and yellowed. The one who knows her son best is always the mother. My mother didn't mention this all the winter break, and before I got home, I thought she would keep asking me about my internship and work on the phone, but she didn't even mention it.

On the first night home, I was completely sleepy, didn't fall asleep until the morning, and didn't eat breakfast. I slept late the next day, and I was sleepy early on the third day. In the days that followed, I slept well every day. It was as if he had escaped from the old days. In the last days of school, the hardest part was the night, and in my hometown, this situation is completely non-existent. But during the day I would still fall into a deep silence, sometimes from morning till night without saying a word, and my mother would not ask why, and with what she told me about her experience when she was young, there were many things that I could not say, and I had to digest them myself. When I fall into that silence, at some point, a fragment of my childhood flashes into my mind, squeezing out the memories that still tormented me from the previous moment, and I feel a moment of peace or happiness. In the days that followed, this kind of childhood fragment appeared more frequently, and at one point I mistakenly thought that I had been freed from the entanglement. But those days were so much better than when I was at school that I forgot to protect my dorm room before I went home.

On the night of Chinese New Year's Eve, without the influence of the city's full lights, the fireworks in my hometown are exceptionally dazzling. When the first fireworks exploded, I had just finished my Chinese New Year's Eve dinner and stood at the door looking at the infinite darkness in the distance. A pain pierced my heart like a real one—with Hai Linlin's figure, but the pain was gone in a flash, accompanied by a sourness that permeated my whole body. I remembered the fireworks flickering outside the dormitory the night before New Year's Day, and I looked at the fireworks at that time and wondered if Hai Linlin, who was also alone in the dormitory, would be woken up by the fireworks like me. The box of memory is always inadvertently opened by an inadvertent event, making us remember things we shouldn't remember.

When I got back to school, the snow had melted, and the car passed by the river north of the school I frequented, and there was no ice on the surface of the river. The dormitories for graduating students were still open to graduates, and I saw the small librarian on campus who was rushing to work in the library, his back unusually hurried. I suddenly felt that I had wasted too much time after the graduation exhibition, and at first, I was looking for comfort in the library and at the same time to make myself feel better. After that night, my wandering ghost-like life went on for too long to make up for it. Before I went back to school, I thought at home that I must find an internship job to get back into life, which made my desire to re-engage in life even stronger.

I cleaned the dormitory that I had been away from for a long time, piled all the sketches and sketches I had started drawing with candles at night last semester on the balcony and prepared to burn them, but I thought that the smoke would rise into the air and be seen by the school guards, so I tore them up and threw them in the urinal to wash them away, and when I tore the pair of eyes that I had unknowingly drawn one night, the film of memory stuck in my mind and made me count the time over and over again—it turned out that seventy-one days had passed that night.

I packed all my things and was ready to put myself into a new life. I was looking for an internship job online, and at first, I was full of confidence and always thought that I could find a good internship job, but all the resumes I submitted were in vain. In the end, I expanded the scope of delivery, but I only received interview invitations from two companies, one was an advertising agency, and I remembered the nights when Qian Minwei stayed up late to draw logo sketches, and I decisively gave up. There is also a company that mainly sells paintings, and the customer says the style they need, and the company arranges for employees to draw it. When I decided to give it a try, I was told that I needed to bring my own drawings to the interview.

I didn't leave any works in my entire college career, and the only one of my graduation works was bought by Mr. Ou. I remembered the portrait of Helen Lin, which was my last painting at school. On the last day of the painting, she wished she could keep it, and after our last meeting, no one contacted anyone, I never remembered the painting again, and I don't know if she took it away from the studio at the end.

I had the idea of going to the studio on the sixth floor to find out, but when I took the key from the management office and walked up the corridor on the sixth floor, the familiar feeling came to me instantly, and the image of painting with Hai Linlin almost knocked me down. I changed my mind, didn't go into the studio, and returned the key to management. I decided never to go to that building again. It has nothing to do with me whether the painting was taken away by Hai Linlin, or whether it was left in the studio forever, or whether it was thrown away as garbage by someone new to the studio.

But this vow-like determination did not last for a few days, when it was shattered by a letter sandwiched between a book.