Oh, by the way, I didn't mention my father. People born in the 80s, calling their parents father and mother, seem to be a bit bookish and too pretentious.

Actually, I call my mom mother, which is respect; And calling dad father is because of the sense of distance.

My mother's surname is Liu, and my biological father's surname is Cao.

What my mother said was to change my surname to Cao, which was to follow my father's surname. I was still young at the time, and whose surname I followed, or what it was called, was just a synonym.

Like, apples, tomatoes, that's just a name for something.

My mother once briefly mentioned to me that my father's surname was Cao and that he was rich, and that I was just a bargaining chip that my mother used to threaten my father. It's a pity that my father was a prodigal son in love, and love is simply nonsense for him.

Therefore, my mother lost in this big gamble of youth. In this defeat, even my chips were just coins thrown off the table, worthless. I never asked my mother if she had feelings for my father, all I knew was that my mother always seemed to be alone in a daze when she saw your lover and even heard the quarrel between the husband and wife in the neighborhood. Perhaps, as a woman, it is an instinct to desire to be loved and to have a family. It's a pity that my mother's life, from the very beginning, lost everything about her.

I looked at my mother as if I didn't understand. The way she looked at me was so complicated that I couldn't understand what it contained.

My mother saw that my heart was furious, so I overthought myself and wrung my fingers.

As I looked down to think, my mother suddenly stood up and walked slowly to the bedroom, saying, "Sleep." Tired. ”

That night, my mother tossed and turned. The crowding of the bed and the tremor caused by turning over also made me feel faintly uneasy in the sleepless night.

The days went on as usual. It's just that from that day on, my mother was a little more melancholy than before.

Three days later, my mother and I were having lunch. Outside the window, there was the sound of hurried upstairs. I was startled, so I hurriedly looked up and asked my mother, "Mom, it seems to be looking for our family." Instead of answering me directly, my mother took another bite of food into my bowl and said, "Eat quickly." ”

I let out an "oh" and buried my head in the bowl of rice. Just after two bites, there was a knock at the door. I still have rice in my mouth that I haven't swallowed yet. As if she hadn't heard, the mother was still eating. I pushed my mother with my arm, and she reluctantly put down her chopsticks and slowly opened the door.

My mother and I were in Nanjing, and we hardly knew anyone except our neighbors. So, I was so curious that I didn't bother to swallow it.

The door opened. Two men stood in the doorway. They were dressed very well, very different from the men and women I had seen in the alleys for so many years. The man near the door, in his 50s, had a silver chain peeking out of his jacket pocket, and my eyes never took off the material representation of the early '90s. Later, I learned that it was called a pocket watch, and it was an iconic label of that era. Just like, the current cartier, you can say that it is low-key and tasteful, you can also say that it is too high-profile, especially a certain series of naked leopard head, people without money may say it is tacky, but for rich people, it is a symbol of wealth and status, after all, vulgar is elegant, and it does not make sense.

My mother and the other spoke in a low voice, and I sat at the dinner table and could hardly hear anything, and besides, my mind was completely attracted by the silver chain at the mouth of my coat. My mother turned around and walked towards me: "Mu Xi, come back and eat again, go out to do something." Walk. There was no emotion in my mother's tone, but I followed her with great interest and jumped downstairs.

Walking out of the alley, two men got into a car first, leaving my mother and I standing beside the car at a loss. The man with the pocket watch in the co-pilot looked back and got out of the car and opened the rear door for us. Before that, I had never been in a car, and in the 90s, the imported Santana was already a very bullish configuration. My mother was nervous in the car, I was too young to know what was about to happen to me and my mother, and I saw it all as a novelty.

The road was not very long, but I was halfway through the road when I suddenly felt a wave of nausea in my stomach and dizziness. Maybe it's because I've never been in a car, but in the end, I still got motion sickness and threw up in the back seat. What I ate at noon was given to the car I was sitting in for the first time in my life.

The driver braked sharply and I hit my head on the back of the front seat. The two men were visibly angry, for I could tell the disgust in their furrowed brows. My mother hurriedly apologized while patting me on the back at a loss. I was dizzy, and in a trance, I remembered that my mother was using the handkerchief she had brought with her to pick up the vomit I had vomited in the car. Now that I think about it, this is the sorrow of the poor created by social hierarchy.

The mother's bent back was even more humble in the laughter of the two men standing under the tree by the roadside smoking cigarettes. The man with a cigarette burning out and a pocket watch in his pocket came restlessly, his face full of disgust and disdain. He waved his hand and told his mother to get out of the car. He pointed along the end of the road, and I heard something in a trance. My mother nodded frequently, probably because I threw up in someone's car, and my mother's attitude at this time was obviously much more enthusiastic than when I opened the door.

My mother took me to a small newsstand on the side of the road, borrowed some water, washed my hands briefly, and dragged me in the direction I was pointing. I was top-heavy and staggered after my mother.

Passing by a large factory lot, I saw two men who had just been driving were washing out my soiled car with a water hose. I dragged my mother and pointed at them, and she looked at her, lowered her head, and whispered, "Hurry up!" ”

I can't really walk anymore. I know I've soiled someone's car, but this motion sickness isn't something I can control. I didn't want to go anymore, I was afraid that I would faint while walking. But my mother's words extinguished my simple and beautiful little thoughts.

When I was about to reach my destination, my mother tightened the sackcloth pocket in her hand and took me to sit under the tree and wait for the two of us to arrive. After a long time, I saw the car coming slowly. My mother pulled me to my feet and waited for them. The two of them laughed to themselves as if they hadn't seen us at all. When he passed by us, he didn't look at it, so he waved his hand and let us follow.

Turning the second big tree at the intersection, my mother and I entered a house. The house is not big, it should have been a business before, looking at the layout, like a financial business such as a pawn shop. There were five people in the room, all men. On a single leather couch, on stilts sat an older man with two tufts of mustache on his lips and a cigarette in his hand. He took a puff, and the smoke filled the room in an instant. I was already exhausted from motion sickness, and the strong smell of imported tobacco made me cough.