When he woke up, Zhang Jianzhong found himself lying on the bed, and he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, he must have had a nightmare!

The surroundings were only hazy, turned over, and wanted to sleep for a while, but through the gap in the mosquito net, I saw a painting pasted on the wall, which was a standard portrait of a great leader that almost all Chinese people had seen, although it was a little old, but the mole on the chin was very clear.

What is this place?

And, in his memory, he hadn't hung a mosquito net for a long time.

He pinched himself, felt pain, not a dream, so he looked around very seriously, the room was very small, the walls were painted with that kind of white lime, and there were very old-fashioned tartan curtains, and when the wind blew, the corners of the curtains fluttered and fluttered, and there was a very bright light coming in.

It's not that the sky isn't bright, it's that the light in the house is too dark. He sat up and found himself still habitually sleeping shirtless, but wearing a pair of pants that were wider than shorts.

Someone was talking outside.

The man said, "Haven't you gotten up yet?" ”

The woman said, "Let him sleep a little longer!" ”

The man was very upset and said, "The sun is all on the butt." ”

The woman said, "Today is Sunday, and I don't go to work." ”

The door was pushed open very hard, and a man of his father's age broke in, and when he saw Zhang Jianzhong sitting on the bed in a daze, he said, "What are you still in a daze?" It's almost lunch. ”

A woman the age of her mother chased after her, pulled the man out, and said, "What are you arguing about?" He slept late last night. ”

Seeing Zhang Jianzhong sitting there, he said, "Don't pay attention to your father." You get a little more sleep. ”

Zhang Jianzhong didn't know these two people at all, but he obviously felt that these two people regarded themselves as their sons. However, it can still be seen at a glance that they are all very common people, and it is common for Zhang Jianzhong to see his grandfather and grandmother dressed in photos.

Did he really fall into the river and drown, cross over, and go back to the era when my father was young?

Next to the bed was a dilapidated writing desk with an even older lamp and a notebook. Zhang Jianzhong thought that this must be his current diary.

He wanted to know what age he was now. What identity? What have you done? When I opened the notes, I found that they were not diaries, but novels and essays taken from newspapers and magazines.

That's naïve, isn't it? Who's going to copy these things?

This is too motherly, right? What's wrong with a gentleman? I actually learned that girls play literature and art.

"Don't come out to wash your face yet?" Daddy-like people are calling outside.

Zhang Jianzhong found that his clothes hung on the hook on the wall, the very common white shirt and blue pants, when worn on the body, they were loose and wide enough to flutter like a flag, and without a belt, the pants could slide directly to the ankles.

He concluded that he was no longer Zhang Jianzhong. Zhang Jianzhong did plunge into the Jiuqu River and drowned, and now he is another person, traveling to another era and another family.

When he washed his face, he saw himself in the water of the washbasin, and he was still the same as before, but his hairstyle was different, and he had a small parted hair.

He washed his face outside the "house", and the tap water was not connected to the house, but more like a communal faucet, during which several people carried buckets to fill the water.

Some people say, only wake up now?

Someone said, last night shift?

Someone said that they saw your novel in the newspaper again.

Zhang Jianxin jumped for a moment, thinking that he is a literary and artistic young man now? The novels and essays in the notebook were written by himself, and he was occasionally published in the newspaper.

The person who filled the water just said, it was more like a greeting, and Zhang Jianzhong didn't have to answer, the bucket was filled with water, and they were carried back to their respective homes. It was a small alley like a gourd, where more than a dozen families lived, and on Sunday, under the shadow of the sun, many people were playing chess on a stone table.

"Checkmate, no salvation!" Some people are smug.

"Don't be too happy, I can go back to save the chess." Some people don't admit defeat.

"Go back to the horse!"

"You cut, you dare to cut?"

"What's not to dare?"

I heard a loud clashing of chess pieces, and shouted loudly: "Will!" ”

The person who refused to admit defeat shouted: "Zhang Jianzhong, you come and fight him for a few games!" ”

Zhang Jianzhong'er jumped again, is his current self also called Zhang Jianzhong? It seems that the people in the whole alley know themselves, but they don't know them.

"What kind of skill are you? You have the ability to win me. "The winner shouts.

"I can't win you, but someone can beat you." Those who don't admit defeat are also very confident.

He saw that Zhang Jianzhong was still squatting there, so he ran over and pulled him: "Hurry up, go and kill his arrogance." "How can Zhang Jianzhong play chess? The mouth says, you play, you play. The body shrank back, but the guy was so energetic that he dragged Zhang Jianzhong to the chessboard.

The chess pieces have been placed, and the other party is not polite, so he will take the lead first. Zhang Jianzhong jumped off the horse casually, the other party pushed a step of the Seventh Route Soldier, and Zhang Jianzhong gave him a head cannon...... At this moment, the brain is running like a machine, and many memories hidden in the corner are turned page by page with each move.

Dad is a chef in a small hotel, and he can also stir-fry a few side dishes. At that time, there were no big hotels, and the chef was already a great technical talent. It is said that my father's best thing is to make wontons, which cost five cents a bowl, and the common people can afford to eat them.

My mother was a housewife, and occasionally, she would go to the small street factory to paste matchboxes, or get some sewing and mending needlework to do it at home.

Zhang Jianzhong, like all children of that era, only studied for nine years, five years in elementary school, four years in middle school, and two years in junior high school and two years in high school. The academic performance is so common that it can't be more common, but the composition is okay, and it is often posted in the class model essay column.

At that time, there was no concept of going to university, and after graduating from high school, I joined the work, or entered the factory as a worker, or went to the countryside to become an educated youth.

Zhang Jianzhong is an only son, and he is the object of care, so he does not have to go to the countryside to the countryside, so he entered a state-owned factory and learned to drive a car from his master. It was the largest state-owned factory in the county, and its full name was Hongqi County Machinery Factory.

The master was an eighth-level lathe worker, who was the highest level and the best among the workers at that time. He told Zhang Jianzhong that there are two most important points to be a good lathe worker, one is to be able to read drawings, and the other is to sharpen a good knife.

At first, Zhang Jianzhong thought that it was easy to sharpen the knife, but the master brought him to the grinding wheel and sharpened a left-sided knife demonstratively, and he realized that the knife that the master said was not the same thing as the knife he imagined.

The master said that the hand should be fixed, and the finish of the knife should be as smooth as a mirror, otherwise, the iron filings will be splashed everywhere, hurting yourself and others, and it is difficult to ensure high accuracy of the product.