June 19, 2012, the 17th anniversary of the affirmation.

A crescent moon hangs in the middle of the sky, crosses the path on Nanming Road, and between two new buildings, you see the abandoned factory. Under the high chimneys, artemisia grass grows, resounding with the chirping of insects and frogs. Drilling into the crumbling factory, the flashlight beam was still full of messes everywhere it went, down to the cracked tunnel.

Witch Zone.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...... After reciting seven steps in silence, he reached the end of the tunnel, facing a thick metal hatch with round handles and thick cobwebs.

Breathe deeply.

Imagine the corpse, the corpse of Shen Ming, a twenty-five-year-old decomposing corpse, lying dead in the filthy blood......

She didn't dare push the door open.

Ten o'clock sharp.

Back on the floor of the dilapidated factory, she half-crouched down, opened the paper bag she carried, took out the silver-white tin foil, and lit a flame.

The tin foil was being burned as a memorial service to a woman in a white dress, with black hair covering the side of her face, and her slender fingers approaching the flames from time to time. She is not Nie Xiaoqian in "A Chinese Ghost Story", nor is she a legendary female ghost or fox fairy, but she is so young that she looks like a fairy - no wonder the students call her "fairy sister herself".

It turned out that she had never missed the appointment, but unfortunately it was seventeen years later.

The firelight stained her face red, and she carefully pulled her white dress so that it would not be caught in flames. A few pieces of ashes drifted into his eyes, and tears fell down his cheeks into the fire with a sizzling evaporating sound.

Suddenly, a voice sounded behind him - whose cry was it?

The moment Ouyang Xiaozhi turned his head, a figure stood up from the tunnel in the witch area, as if someone had come back from the dead.

Seventeen-year-old Si Wang.

She screamed miserably, scared away all the ghosts in the wilderness, and raised her sleeve to cover her face: "You...... You...... How is it here? ”

"Twigs."

Last week was the final exam of the first year of high school, and only Si Wang has not left the school. He stepped over the tin foil fire and slowly approached her white dress, as if to open a fairy skin.

"Don't touch me!"

He grabbed the struggling arm of the female teacher: "Don't be afraid! I am here! ”

"Si Wang, are you crazy?" She raised her head again, and then she looked like a teacher, and asked seriously, "It's summer vacation, why don't you go home?" What are you doing here in the middle of the night? ”

"I should ask you this question."

The boy looked into her eyes, enigmatic eyes that had not yet dried with tears, until the flames behind her were extinguished, leaving only yellow and black ashes.

"But it has nothing to do with you, you weren't born when he died." She shook desperately a few more times: "Let go of my hand!" ”

Si Wang was much stronger, his shoulders did not move, and his five fingers were like iron tongs clamping her: "Do you remember the Death Poets Society?" ”

Listening to his quiet voice, Xiaozhi's heart beat wildly, looked at the underground hatch, and shook his head: "You mean that classic American movie?" ”

When she was a high school student, as a Chinese teacher, she showed this movie to her students in the audio-visual room of the multipurpose building, for which she was criticized by the principal and the director of teaching.

"Not only that, did you forget?"

Si Wang pulled away the clear young man's voice: "From tomorrow, be a happy person / Feed the horses, chop wood, and travel the world / From tomorrow onwards, care about food and vegetables / I have a house, facing the sea, and spring flowers are blooming." ”

Her teeth began to fight, and in the middle of the night of the Qingming Festival in 1995, Teacher Shen Ming, with Ma Li, Liu Man, and Ouyang Xiaozhi, climbed over the school wall, sneaked into the underground of this witch area, and recited Haizi's poems one after another.

This is the death poetry club of Mr. Shenming, a secret exclusive to the four of them, it is said that even his fiancée does not know, and if he is discovered by the school leaders, he will probably be expelled as a class teacher.

The Witch Zone, for the four of them, is not some terrifying and mysterious place, but the Death Poets Society.

Two months later, two members of the Poetry Society died, one on the roof of the library and the other under the Witch Quarter.

"At that time, the Death Poets Society most often recited the works of two poets, one Hai Zi and the other Gu Cheng - both of them died, one committed suicide lying on the railroad tracks, and the other killed himself on a small island in the South Pacific, first hacking his wife to death with an axe, and then committing suicide."

"Are you alluding to the death of the teacher back then?"

"On June 19, 1995, you were dressed like this."

She looked down at her white dress and then into his eyes: "You...... Who exactly is it? ”

"Twig! If I tell you that I am the statement, will you believe it? ”

The voice came from his throat, and at this moment, his eyes belonged completely to a thirty-five-year-old man.

"No!"

So, he read a long series of words coldly—

"Teacher Shen."

"Don't talk to me, and don't come near me. I'm not a teacher anymore. ”

"I heard that you won't be in our school tomorrow, when will you leave?"

"Tonight, eight o'clock."

"Could it be a little later? At ten o'clock in the evening, I will wait for you in the witch area. ”

"The Witch Zone? Is there anything important? ”

"I have something I want to tell you, I'm afraid it's not convenient during the day."

"Well, I promise you, it just so happens that I have something to say to you."

"See you at the door of the witch area at ten o'clock!"

On the afternoon of June 19, 1995, on the last day of affirmation's life, their last conversation in front of the fence wall of the school playground.

"Shut up...... No...... Stop it...... Beg...... Say no more...... Please......"

She covered her ears and mumbled to herself.

"Xiaozhi, seventeen years ago tonight, at ten o'clock, I came, but I didn't see you." Si Wang let go of the hand that grabbed her and stroked her hair, "That night when it was raining heavily, did you - have you ever been here?" ”

She couldn't say a word, she just shook her head desperately.

"You didn't come?" He sniffed the scent in her hair, "Okay, I trust you. ”

"Let me go!"

Drilling out of the dirty factory, the crescent moon gradually fades away, and it turns into the starry sky in the suburbs, reminiscent of the spring seventeen years ago, when the teacher accompanied the students, sitting in the grass of the wilderness, watching the fall of the Lyrid meteor shower.

Suddenly, Teacher Ouyang Xiaozhi lifted the hem of her skirt and rushed outside, but was tightly grabbed by Si Wang's wrist.

The seventeen-year-old student ran wildly with his teacher, panting all the way to the subway station, but he had already missed the last subway.

Xiaozhi stopped a taxi, Si Wang grabbed the car door, her eyes were trembling, but her mouth was very stern: "Let go!" Let me go home! ”

On June 19, 2012, at 10:45 p.m., she took a taxi away, looking at the starless night sky through the blurred window glass, and her mind floated in the witch area seventeen years ago - the dark and cold underground, Teacher Shen Ming took the members of the Death Poetry Society to sit down, around a few white candles, like some kind of ancient sacrifice ceremony, the wall projected a flickering back, like a mural of primitive people, Ouyang Xiaozhi wearing a white sweater, reciting a poem by Gu Cheng with emotion: " The sky is grey / the road is grey / the building is grey / the rain is grey ......"