Some things that can be barely recalled now began in the pale and lonely winter.

Such a day.

The faults covered in your eyes can only see the future that is close.

01

The morning mist that filled the alley was shining with yellow dizzy by the gradually lit lights.

It was not yet bright in the morning, and some remaining stars could still be seen on the cold blue sky.

The temperature has dropped rapidly in the past few days.

Breath turns into frost.

Frozen three feet.

There is a clear world in the distant sunshine in my memory.

02

"Qi Ming brings the milk with him." As soon as he was about to open the door, his mother chased him out of the living room, holding a bag of milk that had just been steamed from the rice cooker, steaming hot, "Oh, you boys should drink more milk and know how to cut, especially for you boys in the first year of high school. How can you not drink it?" After saying that, she pulled the zipper of the schoolbag behind Qi Ming and stuffed it in. Because she was a big piece shorter than her son, the mother tiptoed. After stuffing the milk, the mother pinched Qi Ming's arm and started muttering, "Oh, this is the case in the middle of winter. How can boys only care about handsomeness?"

"Okay, OK," Qi Ming replied softly, then opened the door, "Mom, I'm going to be late for class."

When I opened the door, the thick fog surged into the house. Above my head was the white sky light floating in the deep winter.

It was still very early in the morning, and the light didn't have time to shine through the entire lengthy alley. The boxes, pots, and trash cans piled on both sides of the alley could only float a light gray outline in the fog.

Qi Ming closed the door and locked it inside with his mother's nagging. He had only had time to vaguely hear half of the sentence "Be early after school...", and the cold in winter was isolated from everything.

Qi Ming carried the strap of his schoolbag, shrugged, and walked towards the entrance of the alley.

Just after taking two steps, he saw Yi Yao staggering out of the house and almost ran into him. Qi Ming was about to open his mouth and asked when he heard the screaming voice of the woman coming from the door:

"Hurry up, you are rushing to reincarnate, why don't you die! Losing money!"

Yi Yao raised his head and happened to meet Qi Ming's slightly awkward face. Yi Yao's silent face could not show his expression in the meager light in the winter morning.

In Qi Ming's memory, this look at each other was like a slow motion as long as a whole century.

03

"Have you had a fight with your mom again?"

"kindness."

"What's going on?"

"Forget it, don't mention it." Yi Yao rubbed the bruises on his arm. It was pinched by her mother yesterday. "You know that my mother is just a lunatic, and I don't bother to pay attention to her."

"...Well. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It's okay."

In the early morning of the deep winter, the whole alley was still quiet, as if soaked in thick fog, without a single sound.

Today is Saturday, and all adults don’t have to go to work. The children nearby are still young, the oldest one is in the first grade of elementary school. High school students adhere to unwritten rules and must make up for classes on Saturdays. Therefore, the only two of them are walking slowly in the whole alley.

Qi Ming suddenly remembered something, put down the shoulder strap on one side, put the bag along the chest, took out the milk, stuffed it into Yi Yao's hand, "Give it."

Yi Yao sucked his nose and reached out to take it.

The two walked towards the bright alley entrance and disappeared into a thick white fog.

04

How to describe your world?

Above the head are interlaced antennas, which divide the unclear sky. The clouds float very lowly on the narrow sky. The lead-gray broken clouds cast alternate light and shadow along the alley.

Every day after school, I must pass through a narrow walkway like a time corridor. On my head are clothes hanging from everyone. They will never dry during the rainy season, but they are still dry.

There were all kinds of things piled up on both sides, swallowing the already-not-wide alley. In the shared kitchen, there were quarrels every day. "Oh, why did you use our water?" The person who was found could only pretend to be stupid and embarrassed and smiled, saying, "I'm sorry, I used the wrong one."

Wet floors and walls.

The light of the small window is so weak that it is almost invisible. The curtains are pulled to one side and shine in more light, making the home look bright.

This is the world.

I have lived for sixteen years. I live with peace of mind, very contentment and comfortable. Like a close-fitting cotton sweater, it is not expensive, but it has a cool sense of dependence. Although this is a clothes that makes boys look very unsatisfactory in winter, when autumn comes, even the temperature can still make people dizzy, and my mother will prepare early, nag herself and put it on quickly.

This is the world that has lived in this way for eighteen years. But it is almost over.

Four years ago, my father resigned from his position in the unit and went into business. Now he is the owner of a big hotel. Every day, customers come and go, and the business is booming. He is already proud to say proudly when he receives a call to book a seat, "I'm sorry, our store does not accept reservations."

The newly bought house is in a noble community. High-rise residential building with beautiful river views.

Just wait for the house to be handed over in the summer to leave this cramped and wet alley. You can even use the word "escape". It is like pulling up your feet trapped in the mud.

My mother lives in an atmosphere where she becomes increasingly proud because of waiting. She often ends up chatting with her neighbors, “Oh, my rheumatic legs should be much better after moving. This house is so wet, with snakes and insects all over the place.” Or “I think you can move them out too.”

Such conversations often attract envious compliments, and at the end they will add, "You are so happy that you are so happy. Not only can your husband make money, but your son is also very successful. He won't get first place in the exam. It's not like the small coffin in our family, oh."

At this time, Qi Ming just listened from a distance, sat in front of the window to calculate exercises, occasionally looking up, seeing his mother surrounded by a group of women with outdated curly hair, her face filled with unconcealed pride.

In fact, there were several times when Qi Ming heard a few words on the way home, such as.

"I think that woman in Qi's family is about to die of pride. She will fall down sooner or later and hurt more than she is now."

"I think so. Men will become bad when they have money. Don't look at her being arrogant now. Maybe she will be beaten to the point of being bruised and swollen every day in the future."

"It's her son who really counts as her accumulated virtue in her previous life."

"I heard that I won the first prize in the national mathematics competition just after I entered the school, hey."

This is such a world, like a silk thread, wrapped in a transparent cocoon. The heart container built by vanity and jealousy is increasingly poured into the viscous ink.

It smells smelly.

Qi Ming passes through such a narrow alley every day.

05

When passing by Yi Yao's house, I saw her cooking in the kitchen wearing an apron.

Her mother Lin Huafeng sits at the door every afternoon to eat melon seeds or flip through newspapers.

Qi Ming handed the notebook in from the kitchen window, "I'll copy it for you."

Yi Yao raised his head, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said, thank you, but my hands are dirty now, so you give it to my mother.

When Qi Ming handed the notebook to Yi Yao's mother, her mother would take it over every time and throw it into the room. Qi Ming heard the sound of falling to the ground with a "pop" in the room.

If you take two more steps forward, you will be your own home.

Before the key was inserted into the hole, my mother would open the door immediately, take her schoolbag, and pull herself to eat quickly.

Halfway through the meal, you would almost hear Yi Yao’s voice coming from next door, “Mom, the meal is ready”.

There was a time when I was having dinner every day, the TV station played the Taiwanese drama "Mom Loves Me Again". It was said that it was adapted from the sensational movie that year. Every time my mother ate, she would sniff while eating, immersed in the world moved by selfless maternal love. During that time, my mother would always wipe away tears that were almost invisible to the corners of her eyes, and then tell Qi Ming about her mother's greatness.

Qi Ming always eats silently and occasionally responds.

It's like cotton wool, lying across the blood vessels, hindering the flow of blood. "It's almost condensed into a blood clot." I felt such a feeling of depression in my heart. I always felt that one day a thorn would pop out of the blood vessels, pierce the skin, and expose it to the air.

Whenever my mother pretends to wipe her tears, the blood vessels will hurt a little more.

I just had a little such thought. After all, not everyone can face their dislike of their mother calmly. This is contrary to ethics and morality. So such thoughts only occasionally pop out from the bottom of my heart like bubbles, and then instantly disappear on the water surface, breaking apart. A little splash of water.

Not like Yi Yao.

Yi Yao's hatred is naked and direct.

When I was fifteen, I chatted occasionally.

Qi Ming said: "My mother is a teacher, she always likes to speak truth and is very annoying. What does your mother do?"

Yi Yao turned around and said, "You said Lin Huafeng, she is a prostitute, a very bad woman. I hate her. But sometimes I still love her very much."

Yi Yao's fifteen-year-old face was calmly exposed to the summer sun. The transparent texture of his skin almost saw red capillaries.

I hate her, but sometimes I still love her very much.

The words "prostitute" are like a tide to cover young lives in the summer of fifteen years old.

It seemed like a handful of thorny seeds were sown in Qi Ming's fifteen-year-old heart.

After dinner, Qi Ming stood up and was about to close the bowl, but his mother shouted and stopped him, asking him to come into the room to read the book, saying, "How can you waste your time on such things?" To be honest, Qi Ming didn't like his mother's screaming like this.

He put down his chopsticks, picked up his schoolbag from the sofa, and walked towards his room. Before entering the door, he saw his mother's satisfied expression in the gap, packing up the leftovers and walking towards the kitchen.

As soon as the door was closed, Yi Yao's voice came from next door.

"Mom, do you want to eat it?"

"Do you care if I eat it!"

"If you don't eat, don't let me do it so hard..."

Before he finished speaking, the sound of a plate falling to the ground came.

"Thank you for your hard work?! You can work hard for a meal? Do you think you are a lady from a wealthy lady?"
To be continued...