In the early 80s, it was a rarity for us rural people to take the train, and except for those who went to work in other cities, the rest of us in our village had never even seen the train look like it.

Our pimple train station is in the county seat, to be honest, Liu Da's crooked mouth is really buckled, out of the Maitreya Buddha Temple, I found a tractor to go to the county town to load the goods, and the bustard and I carried it. Along the way, I sat in the back of the tractor and panicked, surrounded by piles of wheat stalks, and from time to time I fell down and choked on my mouth, and my mouth was full of grass.

The old bustard who was traveling with him was calm, sitting there motionless with a sturdy butt, closing his eyes and seeming to be pretending to sleep, like a chivalrous man in a martial arts novel, I thought to myself that this is also a veteran in the industry, and he is naturally quite cold and reserved, but it wasn't until the end that I saw the hara in his mouth flowing to the ground, and I found out that this dead fat man was fucking asleep!

It's a boring journey, so there's no need to repeat the process. After arriving at the county seat, it was already noon, the scorching sun was on our heads, and we were so hot that we were sticky, and the sweat beads on the door of our brains were dripping down. The bustard was afraid that there would be too many people at the train station and there would be no place to sit, so we didn't have time to eat a hot meal, so we set off directly to the train station.

It took about another thirty minutes to get to the train station. The railway station is not much different from what I imagined: the entrance is supported into a greenhouse, which is a simple waiting room at that time, after entering, you can see that there are rows of fences in the place of fifty or sixty meters here, behind the fence are sections of rails, the rails are very long and there is no end in sight, some of the tracks have stopped on the train, it is the kind of covered with a thick layer of iron sheet, the whole is green, there are two yellow paint ribbons around the waist, there is a locomotive like a big nose in front, and a large number of bulky Western machines are pasted under the chassis, It looks shabby. This kind of train was a cheap means of travel at that time, which was what we often called the old green train.

There are a lot of people in the train station, densely packed with people, and what is even more uncomfortable is that in the summer, a large number of people are crowded in this stuffy shed, which is really sweating into rain, shoulders against shoulders, back stickers, originally sticky and crooked to panic, so that I can't stand it.

After a long trip, I finally found a place to sit down, this toss, my stomach was even more hungry to my chest, and the bustard was also hungry and screamed, so I got up and went to the food stall outside to buy something to bring back to eat, so I sat there alone, and used my luggage to occupy a place for the bustard, dragging my cheeks and waiting.

It was unbearable to wait in this stuffy furnace, so dry that I wanted to find a bucket of cold water to pour on myself, and I kept my head down, lifeless, like a fly that had been swatted to death.

After about two minutes, I suddenly caught a glimpse of a shadow dangling in front of me, vague and blocking the light, which upset me. When I looked up, I saw a tall, thin man standing in front of me, bent slightly and facing me.

I was startled and subconsciously rubbed my head back some distance. This man was about thirty or forty years old, with a black melon-skin hat on his head, a black tunic suit, and the kind of small round glasses that fortune tellers have, and a slightly sparse goatee on his chin.

I thought to myself that this man looked like a thief, and he didn't look like a serious person at first glance. Then I also had something to do that I didn't see, and I still didn't want to make any noise, so I lowered my head and deliberately avoided his gaze, not wanting to have anything to do with this kind of person. At this moment, the "spy" suddenly spoke: "Child, borrow a fire." ”

As he spoke, he raised his hand, holding a coarse, leather-colored cigarette in his hand. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a cigar smoked by a wealthy family.

I had no choice but to look up, but I didn't dare to meet his gaze, so I untied the nylon bag beside me, took out a box of matches from it, took out a bright one, and lit the cigarette in his hand by holding the fire in my hand. The agent took the cigarette into his mouth and puffed hard, his brow furrowed as if he was enjoying it. Sure enough, this is what addicts look like. Then he lowered his brow and exhaled thick smoke rings.

"Thank you." The agent opened and closed his shriveled purple lips. The lips were a little chapped, and it seemed that they would be torn off with the flesh of the belt if they were not careful.

I lowered my head again, not wanting to pay attention to him. At this moment, he suddenly leaned down and brought his lips, which were still spitting a little smoke, close to my ear!

"Kid, are you going to Zhengzhou?"

A chill hit my ears and made me shiver. I didn't dare to look up, so I mumbled vaguely and didn't say much, for fear that the purpose of this trip would be leaked by myself.

Immediately afterward, the agent said something that made me smack my tongue: "You have to be careful on this train, it will kill people."

This cold sentence made my brow furrow suddenly. I jerked my head up and met his straight gaze, casting it at me through the slit in the top of the eye.

I looked at him with some amazement. What the hell is this guy talking about? But he hadn't been eyeing me for a few seconds before he suddenly smiled at me, then turned away, his back slowly hidden in the dense crowd.

I watched him go, but I didn't react. It felt like a stranger suddenly slapping himself in the face for no apparent reason.

Did he just tell me that there would be dead people on the train? Is this a joke or a threat?

I think there is a feeling in this guy that I can't fathom, as if it is the evil that I can't see, but something must be wrong. I had never met him before, so why did he say that? Vaguely, I think he has something to do with the hidden secrets of the Yellow River.

"Hey, what do you want?" At this time, the old bustard came back from shopping outside, carrying two bags of donkey meat in his hand, and looked stunned at me, and pushed my shoulder.

"No, it's nothing, I'm dizzy from hunger." I waved my hand, prevaricated a few casual words, took the donkey meat that the bustard handed me to the fire, lowered my head and took a bite, still thinking about what the spy said.

The bustard glanced at me and didn't speak.

I looked up at the clock hanging above my head, tsk, there are still three or four hours before it is our turn, and I have been waiting in this furnace for three or four hours, as the temperature continues to rise, the air in the waiting room gradually fills the air with a sticky smell of sweat, which continues to ferment. I'm already on pins and needles, and with such a smoke, it's even more crazy. In the end, I simply didn't care, so I just leaned back in the chair and dozed off.

I don't know how long I slept, but the more I slept, the cooler it became, and finally woke up the bustard, who pushed my shoulder and pointed to the clock: it was already past seven o'clock.

I pulled out the crumpled train ticket from my pocket, and it happened that our bus arrived around seven o'clock. At this moment, there was a squeaking sound of electricity from the horn overhead, and after a short time, the conductor's voice came from inside:

"Attention passengers, attention passengers, the train to Zhengzhou is about to depart, please take this train passengers with their luggage, go to the ticket office to check in and board the train."

After hearing this, the bustard and I picked up our luggage and walked towards the ticket gate.

At first I woke up in a daze, but probably because of the cold summer nights, I shivered and my consciousness was almost restored. At this time, I realized that the waiting hall, which was originally crowded with bustling crowds at noon, is now left with few passengers waiting for the bus, and there are only about 20 passengers standing sparsely at the ticket gate, and the whole waiting hall gives people a very empty feeling.

There are a few light bulbs above the head of the waiting hall, and I don't know if it is the reason why it has not been replaced all year round, the light emitted by these bulbs is particularly dim, and it only allows you to roughly see the appearance of the waiting hall, foggy, and feel that there are several layers of tulle in front of your eyes. It kept leaking like water, and the bustard and I couldn't wait to put our padded jackets on our bodies.

At this time, the waiting hall feels very strange, a little bleak, like an abandoned tin house. I think the atmosphere here is a bit weird, it stands to reason that the old green train at that time could seat hundreds of people, but on this trip to Zhengzhou, only a small number of these people who were waiting at the ticket gate seemed to be on the train.

The bustard and I were silently at the back of the group. I could also see that the bustard felt that something was not right, and he frowned and kept looking around. At this moment, I seemed to see a familiar figure in the line ahead, thin and tall, with his head bowed and silent. I thought about it, this man seemed like I had seen it somewhere, and when I looked closely: wasn't this the spy who borrowed fire from me in the waiting hall at noon!

I felt a pimple in my heart for no reason. This guy was still talking nonsense in front of me before, saying that the train to Zhengzhou would kill people, why did he take the train from Zhengzhou now?

I stood on tiptoe and looked at the guy, he hung his head slightly, as if he didn't want to be seen, there was no movement, only the passenger in front of him checked in and got on the bus to vacate a seat he would take a step forward.

He, like everyone else, took a ticket out of his pocket when it was his turn and handed it to the girl who checked it. At this moment, he suddenly turned his head and turned his face at me!

I was startled, and quickly looked away, lowered my head, and pretended to be careless as if I had never done anything. It's really strange to say, this guy's appearance, including the nonsense he said before, and his behavior now, make me very unnatural, as if he is really a spy, and I look like a spy who is about to be arrested.

After about twenty seconds, I felt the burning sensation of being watched on my head slowly fade, and then I cautiously raised my head, and looked, ho! The agent was gone. He looked like he was already in the carriage.

My brow furrowed again, and the strangeness in my heart grew stronger. Forget it, I don't want to think about some nonsense, this train station is really like the people in the village say that there are all kinds of weird people, maybe this spy is a fortune-telling madman.

It didn't take long for me and the bustard to be the last two passengers on the bus. I handed both tickets together to the girl who was checking them. The girl checked the ticket and looked at it. Then he looked up at me and the bustard, and nodded to signal that we could board the bus.

So we picked up our luggage and were about to get into the train, when the girl suddenly instructed behind us:

"It's cold, don't open the window, it's cold."