He didn't like the world, he didn't like it from the beginning, just as the world didn't like him from the beginning. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

He said that he was born with sin, and that his blood was connected with the most filthy, disgust, betrayal, deceit, and hatred all his life.

Maybe that's how man is, the more he can't get something, the more he tries to pretend he doesn't care, so he starts to denigrate the world, and he wants to convince himself that he doesn't care about the world.

So he hated the wind, and hated its ethereal freedom.

So he hated the tree, hated that it was tightly bound to the land, and stayed in such a place all his life, and never saw the mountains and rivers of other places until he died, just like himself.

He also tried to love everything he hated, but in the end it was only exchanged for more intense hatred.

My father was a drunkard and gambler, idle, and a scoundrel that everyone in the village could not hide. As a father, he didn't even give his son a name like that, even if it was a dog.

For a long time he did not have a name, and his mother locked himself in the house every day since he was sensible, and his father did not come home for a long time.

Because he was born on the Qingming Festival, the people in the village called him Qingming.

During the Qingming Festival, it rained, and on the road, pedestrians broke their souls......

It began to rain on the day he was born, and it continued to rain for more than half a month.

My mother always hid in the house and embroidered, and when she finished embroidering, she would burn it, crying while burning, muttering something in her mouth, and then continuing to embroider, like a madman.

No one knew how someone in such a remote village could embroider such beautiful flowers, he asked his mother what kind of flowers it was, and his mother just looked at him, looked at him with extreme resentment, and coldly spat out one word: "Get out!" He was so frightened that he did not dare to say another word.

His mother didn't love him, and Qingming knew from a very young age that the woman was always prone to tantrums.

"You should have been strangled when you were born!"

"You were born to strangle your ......"

She repeated it over and over again, over and over again, as if it were a curse, so much so that he would often dream that his mother was chasing him after him with a knife, and he could only keep running, and keep running...... He can't stop, because if he stops, he will die.

Qingming would always squat in the corner, very quiet, quiet as a mute, a pair of eyes always wandering between the ground and his mother's door, he wanted to stare at his mother to prevent her from committing suicide, her wrists were full of scars, when he was very young, he had seen his mother take the scissors and cut one shocking blood mark after another on his wrist.

Sometimes Qingming thinks that death may really be a relief for his mother, but he is unwilling to let her die, because he is afraid of loneliness, a one-person house is too desolate, he wants his mother to accompany him, even if he just looks at her and doesn't speak, even if she is fierce to herself, but it is her mother.

Children are always full of fantasies about the future, and he also thought that one day the family will be happy together, just like the neighbor's Wang Ergou, and there will be a hot meal every day, maybe he can be a little more luxurious, he can drag the bowl to the side and pout and say, "I don't want to eat this, I want to eat sorbet." ”

Well, sorbet is a good thing, I grabbed one of the two dogs that day, and I took a bite of the kid and cried like something.

Who let him show off all the time, such a big sun in his hand without eating and walking back and forth, it is really infuriating, in case it melts, what a waste, waste is shameful.

Retracting his thoughts, Qingming crouched in the doorway and curled up like a puppy, his waist bowed deeply, his legs wrapped around his hands, he liked this position because it made him feel as if he was being held and comfortable.

This room is too quiet, because Qingming knows that his mother doesn't like him to be noisy, so he has to be very well-behaved, so that his mother will not be angry.

Qingming was seven years old that year,

Qingming Festival, it was his birthday, the sky was scattered with rain, the sky was foggy and gray, and the rain dripped on his face and was very comfortable.

He never thought that he could have a birthday cake like other children, there would be delicious food, maybe he had fantasized about it, but he knew that people can't be too greedy, so Qingming thought that as long as his father came back and his mother came out of the house, the family would be very satisfied with having a meal together.

Maybe God really heard his prayers, maybe God also felt that he owed him too much, that day his father came back, and he was very happy to take Qingming to buy delicious food, so he carried him to the village, that was the first time his father hugged him.

It was a warm feeling, for the first time he began to have a trace of hope for the future, he thought that maybe there are people in this world who love him, maybe one day he will have a father and mother like other people's children, and he even began to fantasize about a family of three eating happily together.

Along the way, he nestled in his father's arms, and handed a provocative look at Ergouzi, who was being scolded by his father, "Hmph, Ergouzi, your dad is not as good as my dad, look at it, your dad is beating you!" Qingming was very happy.