This is the first time Yan Hang heard about his mother, but these things have been suppressed in his father's heart for more than ten years.

It took so long that he seemed to have no idea how to express it, so he could only drink heavily and finally fall asleep on the table.

Yan Hang sat next to the table, looking at the empty wine bottle in front of his father.

This "talk for a while" has not been chatting for a total of half an hour.

But he felt very empty.

He knew his mother was dead, but he didn't expect it to be in this way.

So suddenly, without any precaution, without any mental preparation, it was like a passerby who was meaningless in a movie without even seeing his face.

A little too simple accident.

Apart from the closest relatives, more than ten years have passed, I am afraid that even a unsolved case where the murderer has not been caught, no more people will remember it.

When mentioned occasionally, no one can understand that there are still people in this world who have suffered heavy pain for more than ten years because of this incident.

After my father talked about this, he was picked up by his grandparents and was taken back to his father when he was four years old.

"It's almost snatched back," said my dad, "just pick it up early."

Yan Hang does not have this memory. His childhood memories are usually like dreams. He often needs to survive little by little with the prompts of his parents "when you were a child", "when you were three years old" and "when you were five years old".

My dad never had such a prompt, so he naturally no longer remembered it.

But Yan Hang felt that the memory was not particularly beautiful.

When talking about grandparents, he even vaguely resisted these two relatives who had taken care of him for two years.

My father didn't sleep well, and he would open his eyes from time to time, glance at him in a little confused manner, and then close his eyes and continue to sleep.

Yan Hang picked up the chopsticks and ate all the cold dishes while drinking.

"I raised a pig." My dad said in a daze.

"Go back to the house to sleep," said Yan Hang, "It's so uncomfortable to sleep on your stomach."

"How great is our prince," my father patted him twice, "How great is it."

"If you are like this, don't be too busy flattering." Yan Hang smiled.

"How great," my father's voice lowered, "I'll ruin it..."

Yan Hang frowned, stood up, went over and pulled his father's arm and pulled him up, and put him in the room: "You sleep for a while."

"You said I'm very selfish," my dad lay on the bed and muttered in a low voice, "I thought about forget it, for my son... but I can't forget it. She is next to me... right next to me..."

Dad clenched his fists: "It's all ice to hold your hands... I'm sorry for you... I've regretted it all my life. It's good if I didn't know your mother, it's good if I didn't get married. It's good if you said you didn't want to go to school and I didn't follow you..."

Yan Hang sat by the bed and waited until his father fell asleep and stopped talking nonsense. He got up and turned off the lights in the room, returned to the living room, packed all the dishes and chopsticks in the kitchen and washed them.

Usually, when you are not in a mood, you have to throw away the things like washing dishes and cleaning up the next day, but today, he really wanted to wash it quickly and erase the traces of unpleasantness.

After taking a shower, he returned to the house. He fell asleep much earlier than when he was sleeping normally, but he was a little sleepy.

Maybe he and his father often drank together after drinking, but they rarely drank like this. They basically drank two bottles of wine in less than an hour, and they were a little dizzy now.

His last sober memory was to pick up his phone and take a look at his friends circle expression on the first day of the junior high school today.

But I didn't even remember what the expression was, so I fell asleep.

Yan Hang doesn't like dreaming very much. When he can't sleep well, he will dream a lot. He is like watching more than a dozen bloody dramas at the same time. The key is that he can't even remember a frame after waking up.

I'll be very tired, as if I haven't had a sleep.

But this matter was not controlled by him, and even like today, when he felt like he was in a coma when he closed his eyes.

He still dreamed.

An old lady and an old lady.

Both of them seemed to be wrapped in gray fog.

The aunt kept crying and would still pinch his neck to cry. He couldn't hear the crying sound, nor did he feel suffocating when his neck was pinched... After all, it was in a dream.

But that fear is clear.

The uncle said I didn't want to see him at all, and turned my head and stared at him again. I didn't want to see you at all.

Afterwards the scene is changed.

You should die.

They are all broken and scattered scenes.

The shaking figures, like a slight and inaudible sound in the wind, flashing through the scene like an incomplete stage play.

Everything disappeared when Yan Hang opened his eyes and came over. The mess that was still around him for a second before he opened his eyes and retreated in the moment he opened his eyes.

It seems like a dream I had many years ago. The color faded, the sound disappeared, and the feeling became chaotic.

Yan Hang frowned and rubbed his eyes.

I touched my phone and looked at the time and got up half an hour earlier than usual.

He sat by the bed and stood there. The dreams that were so faint that they could blow away with a sigh made him feel a little dazed. After a while, he jumped off the bed.

He ran to his dad's room with his shoes. Yesterday, the doors of his two rooms were not closed, just to listen to his dad's movements.

There was no one in the room, and the quilts on the bed were not folded.

Yan Hang was nervous and turned around and walked towards the living room while shouting: "Old Yan!"

"Where is the toilet!" My father's voice came from the toilet.

"What are you doing in the toilet?" Yan Hang breathed a sigh of relief and asked again for no reason.

"I'm asking, can I still have breakfast in the bathroom?" said my dad, "Do you really want me to answer truthfully?"

"What do you want to eat before breakfast?" Yan Hang asked again.

"Can you ask again after I go out?" said my dad.

"Sorry." Yan Hang smiled, walked to the window and sat on the windowsill.

It was earlier than usual, and I could hear birds singing on the big tree outside the door, and the chirping was very cheerful.

This voice, coupled with the people coming and going in front of him, slowly relaxed and stood in a daze against the window frame.

Today I didn’t see the first year of junior high school who passed by to school. Maybe after the crab came back, he couldn’t walk from here. He had to adjust the route of going to school according to the trajectory of the crab crawling.

"Do you go to the music festival?" My dad stood behind him for no reason.

"Hmm?" Yan Hang looked back at his father, "Did you know the music festival in the place that day on the first day of the New Year?"

"Yes," said my dad, "if you go, please bring me one."

"Do you still want to join in the fun?" Yan Hang smiled, "Then bring you."

"Do you need me to prepare a set of clothes that match the theme?" asked my dad.

"Please keep your normal and handsome uncle," Yan Hang said, "Besides, in the first grade, you either wear school uniforms or the sportswear of a smaller size. You are too alternative, I'm afraid that he can't stand it."

The father smiled and pinched his shoulder: "Son."

"Yeah." Yan Hang responded.

"I love you." said my dad.

Yan Hang was stunned and looked at him.

"Give some face," Dad tsk, "Where is the response?"

"Dad, I love you too, too." Yan Hang said.

"Can you eat baked rice before breakfast?" said my dad, "You get up so early today, and you can't fill in the time you don't have to cook baked rice."

"...You asked me to cook baked rice for you early in the morning? You have to cook freshly," Yan Hang glared at him, "You're just stingy for a long time, right?"

My dad sat on the sofa with a happy smile.

Yan Hang stared at him for a long time, finally jumped off the windowsill, took the materials from the refrigerator and entered the kitchen.

My dad seemed to have returned to his previous state, and the painful memories of last night seemed to have dissipated with the alcohol.

But Yan Hang did not find the ease and sudden enlightenment he wanted.

Are you looking for or hiding?

What do you want to do or what have you done?

What are the dreams?

The answer to one question brings up more questions.

And now he no longer has the courage to ask again.

During today's self-study, the teacher came and went out after taking a walk, and the classroom gradually became lively.

In the first year of junior high school, he was lying on the table to do his homework. His deskmate chatted happily with the front and back tables. The table was hit from time to time. His writing was like thunder. When the table flickered, it was so thunder that it was even more thunder.

He looked up and looked around, lowered his head and put the pen into the hole in the table, got up and walked out of the classroom.

This week they rotated seats, and he moved to a position close to the back door. This position is very good, and you can go silent when you enter and exit the classroom. With the blessing of the stinger, he always looks like he is invisible every time he comes out.

Of course, even if someone sees him, no one cares.

On the side of the teaching building is the school wall, and few people go there. He usually stays there when he comes out, sitting on a big rock with a comfortable fart.

I usually go dazed and grind stones to play.
To be continued...