That's how I stayed at Yao's house. Friends set me free and make it easy for me. The garden is very quiet, and few people come. There are guests visiting, and friends are receiving them in the Shanghua Hall. In fact, except for morning and evening, there are not many friends at home. I know he doesn't have any jobs, and I'm not sure he likes socializing. I asked Lao Wen what he did when he went out during the day, and Lao Wen said that he often went to the "Zhengyu Garden" to drink tea and listen to the bamboo piano, and sometimes he also took his wife to accompany him.

I started my work on the sixth day I moved to Yao's house. This is my seventh book and my fourth novel. is the story of an old coachman and a blind woman who sings. Before I left for my hometown, I told a senior in the literary world about the structure and content of the novel. At that time, he was working on a literary series for a large bookstore, and asked me to write the novel and send it to that bookstore for publication, and I agreed to him. I should be faithful to that senior. My work is going well. I have been writing in the lower flower hall for a week, and I have already written more than 30,000 words. I expect to finish my novel in twenty days.

Every day after dinner, I went out shopping as usual. Sometimes I walked farther, sometimes I walked two or three streets and then came back, sat on the bench inside the gate, and talked to Li Laohan. We talked about everything, but as soon as I mentioned the matter of the Yang family, he kept his mouth shut, otherwise he would have said something else. I think he's watching out for me.

Every day when I walked past the Great Immortal Temple, I saw that the gate was closed. I pushed it gently, but I couldn't push it away. Once, I was four or five steps away from the temple gate when I saw a child coming out of the temple. I know him, he is obviously Young Master Yang. He flew and ran forward, and suddenly disappeared behind the people. I walked to the Great Immortal Temple. The door opened, and the mute stood in it. I look at him, and he looks at me. His appearance has not changed, except that his eyes are teary and he holds a thread-bound book in his left hand.

He took two steps back, intending to shut me out. I hurriedly put my right hand against the door, buried my eyes, looked at the book in his hand, and asked, "What book?" ”

He nodded blankly, but raised his hand slightly. The book is opened, and it is full of large lithographed characters, with a red circle next to it. I caught a glimpse of the fourteen characters of "We should cry when we see the bright moon, and we will be the same in five places in one night", and I know that this is the old printed version of "Three Hundred Tang Poems" more than 20 years ago.

"Are you reading Tang poetry?" I asked gently.

He nodded again and took two steps back.

I took two steps forward and asked again kindly, "What's your last name?" ”

He still nodded. Tears were dripping from the corners of his eyes, and he didn't touch them, as if he didn't notice it.

I raised my eyes to look at the offering table, and there was a stick of incense burning in the censer. The camellia is still in the bottle, but it has dried up. I said to him again, "Let's put some other flowers on it." ”

This time he forgot to even nod his head. He stared at the flowers infatuatedly, tears hanging on his cheeks like two threads.

It occurred to me that it was Saturday. I've only been at Yao's house for two weeks. That time, Young Master Yang came to ask for flowers, and it was also on Saturday. The kid comes here about once a Saturday. He must have come to see his father. Needless to say, the dumb man is Yang Laosan. According to Li Laohan, the Yang family sold the mansion and divided the money, but Yang Laosan did not take one. He probably kicked out his family from that time; As for how he came to live in the temple and how he became mute, there must be a long story in it, but how can I know? He himself won't tell me. The children of the Yang family will not tell me. Li Laohan - Now Li Laohan doesn't talk to me about the Yang family.

The dumb man coughed next to me, more than once, he coughed five or six times in a row. I looked at him sympathetically, thinking about how I could help him. He barely stopped coughing, pointed to the door, and gestured to me to get out. I hesitated, and walked out silently.

The door closed behind me. I don't look back either. The first quarter moon hung in the light blue sky, and the night had not yet come, and the evening air was very refreshing.

I walked slowly down the street. I wish I could forget these enigmatic things.