"If only it were evening," I said hurriedly, "there must be several windows full of silver." After saying that, I felt that my palms were wet and slimy, like a ripe peach that had just been crushed. She stopped, leaned against the back beam of her chair, and turned to stare at me. - This is what I opened when she got up and walked to the west window of the station room, and tugged at the chair in front of the table to sit down.

"Silver?" She asked, blinking.

"That's right, silver. There are so many windows here! I replied.

She tilted her head to the side, rolled her eyes, and smiled: "Hey, I'll just say that nonsense, you still take it seriously!" ”

"It's not serious, I think it's true. The moonlight in this mountain is the silver wrapped around the window. "I responded with some flattery.

"The silver wrapped in the window, the moonlight in the mountains. What an interesting whimsy, this has to be written into a nursery rhyme by the kindergarten teacher. She still laughs.

"It's really interesting, and the more you think about it, the more interesting it gets. I also thought of gold from this silver. "I started to quote what I had written. It's not sleek and sleek, but I feel pretty good.

"Gold?"

"Gold."

"No, gold and silver are not separated!"

"It's not, gold and silver, in my place, it's divided." I didn't expect her to answer like that, a little sneering. But I quickly turned my head and successfully fit on the bend. "I'm here well, gold is gold, silver is silver, the color is different, the density is different, and the temperature of the smelting furnace is also different, so it can't be mixed."

"Hey, you're quite researched!"

"No, I, how can I say it——, I just like gold so much that I wonder for differences, so that gold and silver can be separated."

"Separated?"

"Separate!"

"But what are you doing with such a division of gold and silver?"

"It's good that I can separate it, and the wolf skin is the wolf skin, and the tiger skin is the tiger skin for barter. It is the exchange of silver for gold. I see silver as a wolf's skin and gold as a tiger's skin. It's not important, it's important that silver means gold to me, and if silver can't be exchanged for gold, silver is of no use to me. ”

"And what is the use of gold to you?"

"Save a lot of money and watch it! It's comfortable to look at. ”

"Really?" She took her hand off the back of her chair and squinted her eyes to look me up and down, as if I was an extras who had entered the screening circle and was ready to compete for the male lead, while she was a beautiful director who held the power to make decisions.

She stopped looking, and the corners of her mouth curled up with beautiful smile lines: "I understand, you are a money worshipper." Money worshippers who worship 99.99 pure gold. ”

I smiled a little unnaturally: "I can't say goodbye or not, but I just like it, I like it very much." ”

"Yo, there are still great things you like in this world?"

"Yes. That's all I have for gold! ”

"What you said sounds a bit shocking, and it can be called a ** nudity that strips off the disguise."

"No, no, you never dare to say that when you're out of the mountains, it doesn't matter if you say it here."

"Yes! Wouldn't I be the first person outside the mountains to hear you say that? ”

"No, you are. Well, in the mountains, you are also the first. Because in the mountains, I never said that. ”

"Then I'm honored!"

"No, no, no, that's not what I meant, I-"

"Okay, stop gossiping." She interjected, "You just talk about your silver for gold, how can you save a lot of money and look comfortable." Let me, who do not know much about gold and silver, have seen for a long time. ”

I paused, not because of her words, but because of my own joy. This is the first time since I became an adult that I took the initiative to talk nonsense to a woman, a charming woman. It is said that everything is difficult at the beginning, but I am not difficult, it is quite smooth, and it is a great self-breakthrough, as if I have rehearsed it many times. From this point of view, my potential to find something to say and the ability to make something out of nothing can also be put on the table; As long as I'm willing to dig and expand, I'll have a lot of room for nonsense, so let's do it with my mouth open.

Her body was already facing me, and her whole body seemed to be making a voice like this: Let's start, don't make me wait.

The above dialogue was introduced by her who was watching the scenery in front of the window of the station office after returning to the station office after my patrol this day.

In the past few days, she didn't ask me anything, she didn't say anything to me, and we were really stunned, dumbfounded. Most of the time, they sit on their own chairs, silently becoming statues to pass the time. She looked out the window, and I secretly looked at her, as if she had been drugged with dumb medicine, and it could be confirmed that she was still a living thing, and I am afraid that only their eyes were left.

People are really weird, and it's always so easy to get back to their old ways. From the day after she stopped here, my tongue started to die again. This strip of smooth muscle has greatly reduced the execution of the brain, and it seems that the nerves that receive instructions have been ligated. When they were under the same roof, I wanted to say it, but I couldn't, and the closer I got to her, the more my tongue knotted. Thinking about the day before, I had said so many things to her, although it was not extravagant, but it was reasonable. But she's stopped here, why can't she? Is it the burnout after the wish is granted, or has my position as the master of the station been invisibly replaced by her? Maybe everything in the station is really controlled by her, if she doesn't want to pay attention to me, I don't have the right to take the initiative to speak to her, otherwise it's boring for myself.

Outside the station, the sun was shining, and the daytime was still growing, and the shadows cast by all objects were still moving silently under the bright sunlight; The clouds and mist at the waist and neck of the mountains on three sides seem to be frozen like pictures, but in fact they are unconsciously alienated: this moment is like a ribbon, and that moment is like cotton wool. This woman sitting under the roof of a hundred years, in the silence of the breath, made me feel like an old friend, and the illusion of the old days of déjà vu also made me absurdly think that this was not the first meeting, but a reunion. But time is a little long, and it has been strange.

The afterglow of my eyes always converged on her, and the sunlight coming in through the window divided her into yin and yang for a long time: no light above the chest, and light below the chest. The bright light shakes the delicate texture of the decent slacks clearly, showing a fine texture. On the second day of arriving at the station, she took off her army-green outdoor outfit, changed into a set of beige casual clothes, and sturdy outdoor shoes, which were replaced by light and flexible light gray canvas shoes. After taking off her field outfit and washing away the dust along the way, she looked softer and more plump and warm.

In the quiet sunlight, the canvas shoes that lead me to reverie are set off by the gray brick floor, and I feel that there is a need for appropriate music, and these canvas shoes with gypsy genes should be able to whirl and dance on the gray brick floor. What kind of feet would be in canvas shoes? I was impolitely trying to figure out the shape of my feet and evaluate their toughness and hardness. Of course, there will be no result of uncovering the truth, but in my eyes there is a conclusive conclusion: inside are a pair of extraordinary feet, thousands of mountains and rivers have traveled, and there is an infinite distance.

Speaking of which, I am not a person who can read physiognomy, and I don't believe in the matter of physiognomy, but I don't know much about her fate, such as: walking is a life arrangement that she can't resist, she is born to walk, walking increases the dimension of life for her, making her life rich and three-dimensional, and the long road she has traveled is so long that she can't say it herself; The Creator has given her a pair of diligent feet that measure the earth and absorb the earth's qi, and she can only walk without stopping in her years of mobility, from this horizon to another, there is no fixed end, and the end is only the day when she can no longer walk. However, when I arrived at my own station, she put aside her walking, and her diligent feet were idle.

In the past few days, when she entered the station office, she didn't seem to be aware of the existence of her feet, and when she sat at a window, she was like a tamping stake, and she didn't move the light gray canvas shoes on the gray brick floor until she changed the window, and I don't know where she got such a lot of concentration. Thanks to the station room facing the windows on three sides, if only one of them were facing the windows, I was afraid that she would have economy class syndrome. Here comes the big question: this is not a good sign. My intuition tells me that her appearance is the opposite of her inside, that is, the calmer her appearance, the more surging she is inside, and the calm on the outside is completely caused by too much force on the inside and no time to take care of it. To put it bluntly, her concentration is not due to Buddhist Zen, but out of her gluttony for overly focused on fairy tales, and her heart is useless. Undoubtedly, she treats the fairy tales presented by the small station as a delicious meal, and swallows them in large portions, without knowing moderation or stinginess, and the result must be that if one is swallowed, one will be less, and the speed of regeneration will not be as fast as the sprouts of chemical fertilizer. If left unchecked, the fairy tale presented by the small station will soon be devoured.

There is nothing left to swallow, and the day of departure has come.

Leaving is predestined, but how can I accept it if I do nothing to tell her to leave? I had to find a way to prolong the days of my departure, and one more day was the one day I had to stay for the woman who had ignited the desire in my heart.

How?

Slow down the speed at which she swallows fairy tales.

How can I slow it down?

Interference.

Trying to speak, there is nothing to say, and I keep chattering with her, nagging whether I listen or not, so that her ears are always buzzing, I can't calm down, I can't hold my mind, it's not my mouth, I don't have a second point worth paying attention to, I vow to tie her tightly to my godlike, nonsense nagging, and weaken her ability to turn to the fairy tale channel. It's a good old way, but I'm a firm believer that it won't be old-fashioned.

The decision to use this method is by no means self-righteous, but I have a certain basis. I found that she liked to listen to me. Although I was speechless when she stopped at the station, as soon as I spoke, her eyes became very focused, and her ears seemed to stretch out, just like a KGB officer during the Cold War listening to a defected senior NATO official dictating top-secret information, for fear of missing a word. Of course, stupidity is still the big enemy I have to face, and I can't be sure if the first person to speak has nothing to say, and whether it can go smoothly. But after I had made up my mind, though I still did not dare to despise this great enemy, this great enemy could no longer compel me to retreat.

When I was patrolling the road today, I looked at the majestic peaks and cheered myself up over and over again: a man must show the courage of a man and act according to his heart's wishes, or he will be embarrassed to be a man. In order to charm women, men throughout the ages can't do anything: the battle of Troy, the flames of the red cliffs, the blood flowing, the destruction of the country and the city, I just open my mouth, move my tongue, don't lose my pounds, don't hurt my flesh and skin, what can I not do. It's not a prince, a prince and a grandson, a prince or a nobleman, it's just a male old iron, how much body and face can be lost if defeated. Opportunity waits for no one, if you don't want to miss the opportunity in passivity, you must take action in the initiative, use premeditated tricks, surprise, preemptively, end the status quo controlled by her, and blast her out of the gluttony of obsession.

When I got back to the station room, she turned her face and raised her chin at me, which meant: "It's back." I nodded, walked over to the tool cabinet next to the console, put the tool bag on my shoulder into the cabinet, closed the door, and walked over, picked up the kettle from the foot of the table and filled the teapot with some boiling water, and then picked up the teapot to fill her cup. She looked out the window as she was, unresponsive.

Before putting the teapot down, I glanced sideways into her eyes. It can drown people's eyes, although they are facing the wide real scene outside the window, but there is no clear content, and the line of sight that is projected out is also soft and hazy, as if there are two soft glasses buried in the eyeballs. I think there is no focus in her gaze, she looks out the window, but the focus is on her heart, and the scene in front of her is just a mirror that reflects the unknowable back to her heart - although it has optical effect, it has no emotional meaning. Then, the objects restored around the focus of the heart will definitely not be the mountain, this forest, and this green in front of you, but should be the mysterious past and the reversal of thoughts: that year, that season, that place, the distance that there is not, the distance that there is, determines each other, has nothing to do with each other, cold and warm, gathers and disperses, joys and sorrows, ....... The years can only lead to memories, and "then" will only be postponed forever, indefinitely. The "then" in the past can't climb the train of time, which will never look back.

But what do these stations have to do with fairy tales? Does the fairy tale dream that stays here still contain the content that has not disappeared? Outside the window is the real world, but in every pair of eyes, the reality presented by this world is different, and the reality of seeing cannot replace the truth in the heart. - The stubbornness of the inner shape is not the reality of the world that can be transformed, and it is difficult to have a fixed direction of the ideas in the reference, and uncertainty is always accompanied, and no one can foresee the outcome.

After putting down the teapot, I didn't sit down, but stood and drank the water in my cup with the rough pull of my predecessor. If I have a big iron jar in my hand and my waist in the other, then I am a copy of my predecessors.

It's not that I don't want to sit, it's that I can't sit, I have to stand and wait for her to change the window, or when she changes the window, it will become a simple body movement that is none of my business, and my attempts will be in vain. I decided that when she changed the window, I would speak, and I had to take the opportunity of her window to start the conversation, and resolutely break the continuous silence. Now I can only wait, there is no way to do anything. There are no fires here, and there is no threat of mudslides, and it is impolite to interrupt people's train of thought in a stable manner, which will also cause disgust from people. But silent woman, if you get up and move in a non-sleepwalking state, it means that you have interrupted your train of thought, at least temporarily, and before your train of thought is connected, we will speak, which cannot be considered offensive.

I am indeed a person who thinks before and after, and I can't lose it at any time, and I have a basic understanding of others.

The canvas shoe moved, was pulled back under the chair leg by his straightened leg, and then stood up. Come on, the old man, he said: "If only it were night, there must be several windows full of silver." ”……

Now, she was facing me, as if she was making a voice like this: Let's start, don't make me wait.

I suppressed the joy of arching upwards, and I was heavy and spoke freely:

Didn't I always think I was very diligent, so I would spend the whole night here peeling the silver from the window, peeling a sack full of it, and carrying it out of the mountains to exchange for gold. I don't care about the exchange ratio, as long as I exchange it, even if a sack of silver is exchanged for a peanut-sized piece of gold, I can't be happy. Anyway, the silver in this mountain is inexhaustible, and it will always be enough. Cold and summer, year after year, I don't let go of a moonlit night. I believe that after such perseverance and foolish efforts to move mountains, the small station will not be able to pile up a dazzling mountain of gold. Sitting in front of the Golden Mountain, I must be more comfortable, more detached, and more meaningful than sitting in front of the Buddha. If one day I get a terminal illness, I won't go outside the mountains to ask for any famous doctors or special medicines, it will be all a rush to be deceived, and I will go bankrupt and waste my work. I will sit in front of this golden mountain, sit for a few treatments, and be sure to be cured by the golden mountain.

In fact, when I say "I like it very much", it is a polite statement, and the unkind way to say it is: having a strong desire to possess. I'm not afraid of your jokes, my possessiveness for gold is infiltrated into the bone marrow, and it is imported into my soul from the bone marrow. In my life, I can give up the desire to possess everything, except for gold. It can be said that this is my value until the death. It is precisely because of this value that I do not understand and despise some people who bypass gold and take possession of anything other than gold.

I think the following incident is really insightful and valuable and subversive. That year, we organized a visit to the home of a corrupt official who had been investigated, and after going around the huge mansion, my incomprehension and contempt rushed to the limit. Look, in the splendid mansion, there are famous wines, watches, shoes, suits, ties, trouser belts with amazing prices, where are the official residences, and the entire luxury goods distribution center. Because money comes too quickly and easily, like running water, the most worrying thing for this corrupt official before he falls is to hide money. Every day, I have to spend a lot of effort trying to figure out where to hide the money I get, and I am so worried that I have to go around in place like a donkey pulling a mill. People say that his forehead lines are deeper than those of the old farmers in the northwest, and he is worried about this matter.

He didn't worry in vain, but he was worried about a breathtaking southern wall.

This south wall is located in a large study, and when the investigators came to search, the corrupt official had not yet explained the mystery of the south wall, and if it were not for the experience and careful observation of the investigators, the mystery of the south wall would have been hidden for a long time. This south wall is a sandwich wall, and after knocking out the sandwich layer, the case handlers were dumbfounded: this is too unimaginable!

After that, the people who were organized to visit, none of them were not dumbfounded, and they saw that they were like being fixed by Sun Wukong's method, and they stood dumbfounded and couldn't move: good guys, the huge study was soaked in heavy pink all over the face, leaning against the wall and standing up to the ceiling. Oh my god, isn't this a stack of hundred-dollar bills, and the light it emits is not dizzy, it is difficult to breathe, and the world does not exist. It's a big wall! It is more than ten meters long, more than three meters high, and one meter thick, long by high and wide...... Oh my god, I feel like I can crush someone to death if I fall!

Someone joked that it was only then that they understood what it meant to hit the south wall and not look back. If you dare to hit such a south wall, no one will look back!