I don't remember, how long it has been since I was happy, my glass was shallow, my brain was numb, but my friend, you touched my chest, and the real heartbeat could not be stopped. I want to go back to the old days, to see the fallen leaves drown the horse's hooves, to see your youth in the wind, to see the castle he made of mud with his own hands, to see that my mother's face is not old, to see that she gave me a lily that has not withered. I want to go back to the old days, when you loved to laugh when we were young, and the vines climbed all over the roof, I sang in your eyes...... Zhang Mian - "I want to go back to the old days".

Fengcheng Gaojiacun Middle School.

Zhang Mian, who was sitting in the classroom, glanced at Hu Dong at the same table from time to time, this was an important task given to Zhang Mian by Aunt Xue early the next morning, to pay close attention to Hu Dong's emotions and dynamics, and report immediately if there was anything abnormal.

Zhang Mian found that Hu Dong's class was still the same as before, either sleeping or in a daze, the difference was that the time of sleep became shorter, and the time of daze became longer.

The day was spent alternately in Hu Dong's sleep and daze.

"It's my mother who asked you to spy on me," Hu Dong asked calmly in the evening.

"It's attention, not surveillance, and I'm afraid that you won't be able to open it."

"You think I'm going to be unable to think about it."

"That's not it, you survived so hard last time."

"You're probably better talking."

"If you don't have anything, my mission will be completed and over."

"Why do you say that life is so boring, and nothing comes according to your expectations."

"So let you read more books, when I'm tired of studying, I will read poetry, prose or something, people can't be idle, if you are idle, you will think crankily and think about yourself to despair, and in the end you feel that you have no energy to do anything."

"I told Uncle Zhang that you used to play games all night, is it true?"

"One night is a bit exaggerated, the longest is more than three o'clock in the night, I don't play at all in the end, I just play games for the sake of playing games, if I don't play games, I don't know what I need to do, playing games is better than not knowing what to do."

"You have some point, so what do I need to do now?"

"You need a pursuit, such as being admitted to Fengcheng No. 1 Middle School, going to school in the city, and opening your eyes."

"Do you think I'll be able to get in?"

"Absolutely not."

"You can also be tactful, I need comfort now, if you are not sleepy, let's go out for a walk"

The long autumn nights are long, and the north wind is cool.

That night, Zhang and Hu Dong walked along the potholed paths of the campus, past red-tiled classrooms, secret girls' dormitories, vine-strewn office buildings, and a weedy playground to the west of the school.

The two sat side by side on the parallel bars of the playground, feeling the silence and secrets hidden in the night.

…………

When Zhang Mian was in junior high school in Zhangjia Village, he once met a junior high school girl in Shandong on the dating column of a magazine called Liaoning Youth.

Years later, on a business trip to Shandong, Zhang passed through a city famous for his kites, the only city he had had been with his pen pals twenty years earlier.

She said in the letter that every spring, in her city, under the blue sky, there are countless kites flying, and each kite line is connected to a person with a dream.

How is she doing now, has her dream come true?

Has she ever been to Zhang Mian's city, and will she remember that she has a pen pal who wrote countless game guides in her letters?

His name is Zhang Xuan, Zhang Mian of Fengcheng.

…………

Zhang Mian made up his mind to write a letter to Yanzi in the morning after two nights of insomnia.

When he had insomnia on the first night, Hu Dong accompanied Zhang Lu around the campus for a few hours in return. Hu Dong said that this is a walk, this circle by circle, if rice is put on the ground, we can fight, and the stone is saved.

The next night, Hu Dongyi told Zhang Yi rhetorically: "People who don't like to study don't mean they don't need sleep, and people can't stand shoes that can stand it." Send you one word: get out. ”

From the first rays of sunlight in the morning to the last rays of sunset dissipating. In the end, before going to bed, I held back the content of a piece of paper, Zhang Mian wrote a letter to a pen pal is not like this, writing a game guide to write three pages of stationery without a head-up, and now I give a swallow who has known for more than ten years, and the swallow of the classmate for three years even thinks about the name for two hours, whether to call the swallow classmate, or call the swallow directly, and take the risk of calling the dear swallow, and finally choose: dear swallow.

Now Zhang Xuan, who has a mild cerebral infarction, really can't remember the specific content of the first letter to Yanzi, and the general content is still remembered, first he wrote to Yanzi to apologize for his abruptness, then he wrote that he studied the new campus, and finally wrote a small poem to prove that he was not lying.

The poem is called "Good Children's Song", and the poem has only four lines:

Parents are willing to break their bowels for their children,

How can a good child dream of confusion.

Reading hard in the cold and summer and picking up the lights at night,

The white horse is the champion of riding.

In addition to games, Zhang Mian wrote poems and ideals in his first letter to Yanzi.

He is no longer the Zhang Mian of the previous game life, and now he is the Zhang Mian who studies hard.

At noon the next day after writing the letter, Zhang Mian secretly went to the Gaojia Village Post Office and put the letter in the mailbox.

Gaojiacun Middle School to Zhangjiacun Middle School is only four kilometers, at that time, the carriage and horses were slow, the mail was slow, and the human nature was also slow.

At that time, people were also willing to wait for love.

……

After learning that Zhang Mian was writing a book, he was extremely enthusiastic at first, not only rewarding generously, but also patiently chasing a few chapters, and after a few days, he never mentioned the update or not.

One night when he worked overtime until eleven o'clock, Zhang Mian turned on the radio, prepared to listen to music, wrote a text in the quiet night and fell asleep in the office.

"Lao Zhang, few people read the books you wrote, we are busy all day and night without touching the ground, and you don't sleep much when you have that time."

"There should be a few people watching." Zhang Xuan's old face turned red.

A book without a reader is as undignified as a young lady without a business.

"None of us watched. It's not that you don't write well, you can write suspense, write time-traveling, write fantasy, write about the city, there is no market for these things you write now, who sees you rambling here, now read the book to be refreshing, readers can not achieve it in reality in the book to find comfort, and the protagonist fights monsters to upgrade and upgrade, gambles on a stone, steps on people all the way to be unhappy, and you can easily achieve the peak of life in a book for a dozen yuan. ”

"There is nothing wrong with what you said, and I also know that my book has no readers, and the few clicks added are most likely due to the reader's hand slippage, and I want to know who it is, and I will definitely apologize to them."

"Then what else to write, when you are in a bad mood, you can drink, drink too much and go home and sleep peacefully."

"Actually, I just want to write down my youth past when I can still remember some things, I'm afraid that in a few years I won't remember anything, I have a cerebral infarction, you know, I have to hurry up and finish writing."

"I won't advise you, you pay attention to your body, I'll go back to sleep."

After Xiao Xu left, Zhang Mian thought about it and gently turned off the computer.

On a lonely night, the Shannan construction site was brightly lit.

Zhang Mian felt some sadness, the past can be recalled now, the current things can be recalled in the future, memories are a kind of summary, so that we have more experience and courage to face the future.

Everyone has their own youth, and now how many people who will care about the youth of others.

Everyone has their own love past, and how many people care about other people's love past now.

Yes, Zhang Mian is indeed writing about what everyone has, and he will not write anything new.

But he always felt that he still needed to write, and finishing this story could be regarded as an explanation of family, youth, love, and friendship.

Some of the good things that have passed away are now missing.

Zhang Mian hopes to get them back, even if it is only a few glittering fragments and a wisp of wind with the fragrance of flowers......

He will insist on finishing the story, which may not be really good, but at least it is a serious account to the reader.

Readers who slip in will also give an explanation.

…………