When spring first came, Xiao Fei grew taller with the small tree outside the yard. There is still a deep winter breath in the air, and although the wind is soft, I still shiver after standing in the wind for a long time in a single coat. It was because when I got up in the morning to make breakfast, I could feel the wind pouring in from the yard when I stood in the kitchen, so before Xiao Fei went out to school, Sanping wrapped Xiao Fei with a wool scarf.

"You can't take it lightly, it's still a while before you really warm up." After Sanping wrapped the scarf around Xiao Fei, he picked up the thermos flask on the cabinet in the entrance and stuffed it into Xiao Fei's hand, "Soy milk, remember to drink it, don't put it in the afternoon." ”

Xiao Fei had just finished eating the warm, soft multigrain porridge, and his stomach was also warm. He grinned and smiled at Sanpei: "I want to eat fish at night." ”

Before Sanping could react, he quickly turned around, opened the door, and ran out, leaving the door dangling in the wind.

Sanping closed the door, put his head on the door, and said to himself in frustration: "What can I do for you to eat?" ”

When the pace of winter is faltering and the joyful pace of spring is approaching, Sanping enters a three-month vacation period. This is the news she announced to the outside world, and after sending the news out, she closes the laptop and ignores the shocked, puzzled and even angry comments on the homepage.

Her life has always revolved around the violin, and suddenly—really suddenly—really suddenly, like the weed in the yard that can open the top of the stone that holds it down in one night, like a delicate bud that can appear on a bare branch in the blink of an eye, she suddenly wants to put the violin down for a while, and in a short period of three months, learn to cook dishes other than beef curry, learn to take other routes other than the airport route, and learn how to get along with Xiao Fei......

Yonghe is gone, it's been three and a half years. Not long after Yonghe left, Xiao Fei came to her life. So much so that for a while, Sanping, who was sitting in the room, listened to the sounds of the living room, kitchen, and bathroom outside the door - she couldn't tell for a while whether the owner who made these sounds was the deceased Yonghe or the new Xiao Fei.

But Yonghe's face, she really can't remember. Whether it was stored in the phone before, or printed out and put in the living room, the ...... in the room Anywhere there might be a picture of him, Sanpei cleaned it up. And anywhere that can leave traces of Yonghe's life, Sanping also quickly erases these traces. It seems that while erasing those traces, the sadness in my heart can also be erased before it spreads further.

When he saw Yonghe lying quietly in the morgue, Sanping did not shed a single tear. She is not a strong person, when she performs, whenever there is a slight mistake, she will constantly blame herself, constantly reflect, and even cry. But when facing the cold Yonghe, who was already unable to move, looking at the person who had been in love with him for ten years, looking at the extremely familiar face, the weak Sanping, the not strong Sanping, at that time, he was surprisingly calm. This calmness has lasted from the beginning of the funeral to the end of the funeral to this day.

It was a car accident. Sanping looked at the pictures of the scene provided by the police and listened to the police's description of the accident. Yonghe was standing on the side of the road, waiting for the green light to come on, but a little boy suddenly rushed out of the road, and a car was whizzing towards the child. Almost subconsciously, Yonghe rushed out and pushed away the child, who had been too frightened to move, but crashed head-on into the car.

"Sanping, if you want to cry, just cry out loud, don't hold back, you know?" Yonghe's mother held Sanping's hands tightly and said worriedly to Sanping, who looked sluggish. Yonghe's father stood behind his wife, his face full of sadness. Sanping looked at Yonghe's mother, and then turned his eyes to Yonghe's father, who was looking at her worriedly, thinking that he couldn't let them worry anymore - trying to squeeze out the tears, but his eyes were extremely dry from beginning to end. In fact, if you feel it carefully, the heart that was beating regularly in the chest cavity has been silent since when.

Is it time for this heart to beat again?

When Sanpei had just finished drying the last piece of clothing in the washing machine, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, it was my father, Mori Ping, and my mother, Kiyoka, who was not good-looking.

"Why make that statement?" Sanpei's father, Morimoto, after entering the house, before he reached the living room, yelled at Sanpei at the entrance, and his petite mother stood behind the burly Mori himself, bowing her head and sighing.

Sanping felt as if his whole body was being tightly pinched by an invisible big hand, unable to move. But at this time, she suddenly remembered what Yonghe had said - "Your violin, play badly." ”

She forced herself to turn, took a step, and walked towards the living room: "Come in first." —hoarse voice with a slight tremor. She is Chinese New Year's Eve years old now, but in the thirty years she has been with her father, she has always been like a wind-up alarm clock, ticking, as if tireless, she must always hold the violin in her hand, and once she releases it slightly, her angry father will suddenly appear.

Just like now. Sanping suddenly wanted to try to remember Yonghe's face, as if Yonghe's face could give her the strength to deal with her father at this time.

"A three-month break? Is it really the first time I've seen a responsible violinist to give myself such a long time off? Are you worthy of the audience? Is it worthy of the stage? Is it worthy of the violin? Morimoto was furious, and his voice was so loud that it seemed to shake off the bud that had just bloomed on a branch outside the yard.

"I said, dad child, maybe Sanping really needs to take a break. Since Yonghe passed away, our children have never stopped. If she continues like this, she will really collapse. So I think this decision to rest is still ......."

"Quite right? Are you trying to say that this decision to take a break was done right? Morimoto rudely interrupted Kiyoka's words, and her mother was silenced. Morimoto didn't look at her, no longer spoken, but still looked straight at Sanpei, he was waiting for Sanpei's reply. His heavy breath seemed to stir the pendulum of the ancient wall clock on the wall, and the sound of the pendulum swinging from side to side was even more dull than usual.

Morimoto's heavy wheezing sound, also like a gray black mist, emanated from Mori itself, and then slowly, heavily, towards Sanping, Sanping watched this black fog, climbed up her back, and finally entrenched on her shoulders and head, pressing her almost breathlessly.

"Tell me about it." Morimoto spoke coldly again. The originally hot black mist on Sanping's shoulders and head immediately turned into a cold white mist at this time with Morimoto's cold breath.

"I ...... I really want to take a break. I'm so tired. Sanping opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue was rolling.

"Rest? You're a violinist, do you have the right to take a break? Morimoto stood up, walked to the wall where the old clock was hung, turned around, and walked back again, and he was just like that—pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back.

"If it weren't for me...... If it weren't for me! Can you be where you are today? Can you? When Morimoto walked back for the last time, he stood in front of Sanpei, pointed at Sanpei and said loudly.

Sanping raised his head a little detachedly and looked at the father in front of him who was arguing with his mother. Morimoto is sixty-five years old this year, but after many years of highly disciplined life, his figure is still as tall and tall as he was in middle age. In Sanpei's impression, Morimoto has always been unsmiling, and when Sanpei didn't have the strength to pick up the violin, he asked Sanpei to hold the violin between his head and shoulders and stand in the living room for a day. During this period, except for the time between eating, drinking, and going to the toilet, you can take a little rest, and you still have to stand with the violin in between the rest of the time. And Morimoto sat on the sofa, looking at the little Sanpei who didn't dare to put down the piano even though he was sobbing in a low voice.

"If you hadn't insisted on adopting that child in the first place, you wouldn't have wasted your mind elsewhere!" Morimoto argued with his mother to the end, then turned around and said loudly to Sanpei. Sanpei nodded weakly. When Morimoto saw Sanhei like this, he felt that all the heavy punches he made hit a ball of soft cotton. Angry, he shook off his mother's hand that had taken his arm, and strode out the door. The mother looked at her husband who had already gone out, sighed, turned her head and said to Sanping: "Your father is also right, Xiao Fei, this child, why can't you take your turn to raise it, why are you rushing to ask for it." And he's not your and Yonghe's child, it's inconvenient to take him with you......"

"Mom, if you don't keep up, Dad really won't wait for you and drive away by himself." Sanpei weakly interrupted his mother, who paused, sighed heavily, and turned out the door.

When the room was quiet again, Sanping stepped on the vain footsteps, returned to his room, got into bed, covered the quilt, set the alarm clock, and couldn't wait to close his eyes. She was in dire need of sleep right now.