2

The glory of the chick ancestor made me happy for a while. I even thought about marrying her. How can you say that she married a lady, no matter which dynasty her ancestors were in which they were big officials. Soon after, I was deeply lost, because in reality we were both unhuman.

About half a month later, when we went to the old alley again, we already felt bored, and we didn't even bother to do it, like the old men and women who hooked up on the Internet to open a house, and they all lowered their heads and walked their own ways.

No matter how much folk culture there is in the hutongs, it can't compete with the rich and colorful hotels, food streets, cinemas, and leisure squares, attracting restless people to linger.

One night a few days later, as soon as I arrived at the mouth of the agreed alley, the chick ran over, hooked my neck and said, "Let's go drink, okay?" ”

I knew that the chick would offer to eat together, but I didn't expect her to come up and offer to drink together; I also knew that in the past few days, we have always wandered around the alleys, and there are some abnormalities, like the underground party in the early movies from time to time to explain tasks, but there is no bourgeois-style ** behavior, such as eating, drinking, drinking tea, and mixing ** or something.

When I hesitated, the chick let go of me, but her eyes were staring straight at me. I speculate that the chick wants to test my financial strength, which may be a prelude to a personal promise. It was probably a drop of male hormone squeezed out of the testicles, which rushed into the brain and became out of control and lost its rationality. I recklessly agreed to the chick's request to go for a drink. The chick splashed passionately and winked at me. I feel like the chick has made herself look like she is trying to seduce me into bed. If there were a few drops of wine, she would immediately strip naked in front of me.

The chick doesn't know that I haven't been to a restaurant for more than half a year to drink, even if it's a barbecue snack on the street. Usually passing by song halls and restaurants, I keep my head down and don't dare to look at it.

One night last winter, the scene of me being snatched from the song hall by the police came to my eyes from time to time, and the clarity was still like a 3D movie, as if it was just yesterday. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been her turn to seduce me with wine, and she might have drunk her on the night we met, and rolled together in a bunch of gibberish. People are poor and short-sighted. If the chick doesn't seduce, I have to hold back, maybe it will squirt out when I touch it, and I don't dare to take the initiative to ask for it.

In the spring of 2007, on a dusty morning, I sneaked back to the capital. The peach blossoms I brought from the mountains, looking like high-rise buildings and cars all over the streets in the fog, like rabbits, jumped and jumped my heart until I found the car sent by Ma Cannon to pick us up. Obviously, as soon as the eighteen-year-old peach blossom left the mountain village, she stepped into the capital, and her excitement was a little out of control. I stuffed the peach blossoms into the car before I felt my heartbeat.

I'm afraid that the peach blossoms will be too eye-catching and the target will be too big, so I'll let Ma Cannon arrange it elsewhere. I stayed in a rental house prepared for me by Ma Cannon in advance, and it took half a month before I went out to breathe.

Peach Blossom was met by me when I fled to the mountains of the southwest, and I was eighteen years old and had not yet learned to brush my teeth. The whole person is like a piece of jade raw material, rough and unbearable. The buddy who fled with me called Ma Cannon. In less than half a year, Ma Cannon escaped from the mountains and ran back to the capital despite my resolute opposition.

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