When He Smiles

Meng Shengnan was a little absent during the self-study night that day. I read the English reading three times, but the main idea was not read out. This state lasted until I went home at night and was discovered by the ceremony.

Meng Shengnan was in a daze in her room, and the door of the room was pushed open.

The ceremony walked in, closed the door, and sat by the bed.

"What's the matter tonight?"

"..."

"You are quite abnormal during this period, is there something on your mind?"

"..."

"A conflict with classmates?"

She shook her head.

"What's the matter, tell me, maybe I can give you a good suggestion."

From small to large, she knew her thoughts almost without guessing at many events. Perhaps because of being a teacher for more than 20 years, I can exchange ideas with Meng Shengnan. Their family meetings once a month are not in vain.

Meng Shengnan breathed a sigh of relief: "Mom."

"Ok."

"I--"

The ceremony was poised.

"I seem to like a boy." She spoke slowly.

There was silence in the air for a few seconds.

The ceremony asked: "Which kind of like, is it a good feeling or something else?"

Meng Shengnan thought for a while and said, "Good impression."

"See his heart beating faster?"

"Ok."

"tension?"

"A little bit."

"Dare to chase?"

Meng Shengnan immediately shook his head.

"Does anyone have a girlfriend?"

"Ok."

Hearing this sentence, the ceremony slowly laughed.

"You're not laughing at me, are you?"

"A little bit."

Meng Shengnan rolled his eyes.

The ceremony moved forward to her and said: "It is normal for you to feel this way at your age now, but you can't let it go. At this time, many feelings are understood without disease, and a good impression is the feeling that almost every middle school student feels. , So it can't be too real."

"However, this feeling is sometimes very weak, and sometimes very strong."

The ceremony slowly said: "You can talk about it, but don't affect your mood and school work."

Meng Shengnan was silent.

The ceremony also said: "Let's not say whether he has a girlfriend, just one question, does he like your type?"

"It seems not." Li Yan is so good at acting like a baby, she can't learn it.

The ceremony breathed a sigh of relief: "Then I can rest assured."

"what?"

The ceremony rubbed her hair and laughed: "Ah what, aren't you missing the subject matter in the first draft? I think this is a good idea?"

"Can it work?"

"Why not?"

At the end of that evening, there was no substantial result on that topic. However, the words of the ceremony awakened the dreamer, and Meng Shengnan began to go all out to write this story about him and her. Every time you type a word, you may be buried a bit of that kind of goodwill that I don't know if it is a liking. In her second year of high school, she was only 16 years old. The ceremony said that if he likes you, it doesn't matter if you are a good or bad student.

She didn't understand much. Shengdian smiled and rubbed her hair, and said: "Your pride in your efforts will make many boys afraid to approach or have the heart to pull you down, but in this way they will cherish you more."

A week after Lidong, the cold wind passed.

Meng Shengnan was wearing a thick sweater and doing the Huanggang simulation in the classroom. It was difficult to compete one by one. In the study room, the surrounding windows were tightly closed, and even the slightest breeze could not help shivering.

Nie Jing rubbed her hands while doing the question: "Why is it so cold all of a sudden this day?"

Meng Shengnan pondered the question as he replied: "Xiaoxue in two days."

"Xiaoxue?"

"The solar terms."

"Oh, Meng Shengnan—"

"Ok?"

Nie Jing leaned closer: "You write pretty well."

Meng Shengnan glanced at her and laughed.

Nie Jing showed her face, "Practicing?"

Meng Shengnan: "For a while."

"No wonder."

After class, three women and one man were chatting at the front and back tables. Of course, Fu Song is basically listening and occasionally expressing his opinions. Compared to him, Nie Jing was active, and her whole body was full of energy.

Meng Shengnan listened, when someone knocked outside the window next to him.

"Come out." Qi Qiao called.

Meng Shengnan went out and asked: "What's the matter?"

Qi Qiao said with a bitter face, "I remember you took a 123 Chinese test last time, right?"

"Ok."

"Let me use it quickly."

"It's been two weeks, why do you want it?"

"Who knows what the Chinese teacher is going crazy, saying he wants to talk about reading composition or something. Get me the talented girl."

Meng Shengnan curled his lips, "Wait."

After Qi Qiao got the test paper and left, Meng Shengnan returned to his seat. Xue Lin and Nie Jingzheng had a chat, the topic turned out to be Song Jiashu. Meng Shengnan pricked his ears to hear a few words, shook his head and smiled without saying a word.

Nie Jing stopped her and asked.

"I heard that Song Jiashu was very difficult when chasing Qi Qiao, isn't it?"

"They are so blatant about their relationship, do family members know?

After two consecutive questions, Meng Shengnan didn't know how to speak. Fu Song said at this time: "According to scientific research, people spend almost half of their lives worrying about other people's affairs. They use their own three views to judge, and this kind of judgment is often called eating melons before they use their brains. Mass consciousness."

Meng Shengnan: "..."

Xue Lin: "..."

Nie Jing was still dumbfounded: "What are the three views?"

"Worldview, outlook on life and values."

After a second, the topic disappeared.

Meng Shengnan lowered his head to read the book, the corners of his mouth turned up. Seriously, Fu Song, it's interesting. The philosophical scent is strong, and the feeling is a bit of a poor scholar, and he draws a knife to help, and is enough for friends.

In those few days, Meng Shengnan stayed up two or three late, and occasionally went on business trips in class.

Once Fu Song grabbed her and ran away again.

"I called you several times to know, right?"

"--do what?"

"You can't concentrate."

"..."

Meng Shengnan was thinking about the plot of the story and asked him without thinking: "If you like a boy, would you take the initiative to confess to him?"

The person being asked was stunned for several seconds.

"Why don't you speak?" Meng Shengnan realized later.

Fu Song looked at her for a long time.

"philosophy--"

The boy interrupted her: "Who do you like?"

Meng Shengnan's head buzzed, and he kept explaining: "That—no, I—"

Fu Song just looked at her and said nothing.

Meng Shengnan sighed, thought about it, and said: "I wrote a post-reading comment recently. I am not sure about some thoughts, so I will ask you."

After a while.

Fu Song asked: "That's why you didn't make progress in your studies during this period of time?"

"Who can't study well anymore?"

"Want to theory?"

Meng Shengnan curled his lips.

Fu Song smiled suddenly: "I won't confess."

"why?"

"The time has not come."

Meng Shengnan didn't figure out the meaning of what he said, and listened to him calling his name.

"what's happenin?"

"I don't like boys."

Meng Shengnan almost squirted over with a smile.

As a result, under the urgency of all sorts of desperate rushing for drafts and spying on the army, Meng Shengnan finally finished writing about him and his secret love at two o'clock in the morning on November 20th.

Just after knocking on the last word, the bedroom door was pushed open.

Meng Shengnan was startled when he walked in with his coat at the ceremony.

"Mom, you haven't slept yet?"

"It's finished?" Nunu chin toward the desktop computer at the ceremony.

"It's over."

The ceremony was sitting by the bed: "Does it still feel?"

Meng Shengnan thought for a while: "Yes."

In the past few days, she often deliberately went to the science building to find Qi Qiao, and secretly went to see what he was doing. Almost several times, I came across him and a group of boys in the corner of the back door of the classroom, smoking cigarettes and talking about the mountains.

"How much do you like now?"

"do not know."

The ceremony stretched out her hand and stroked the soft hair on the side of her ears, and said, "Forget it, take your time."

"Mom, don't you object to my early love?"

The ceremony laughed: "Are you premature love? Unrequited love is almost the same."

Meng Shengnan: "..."

Ceremony: "But there is no shortage of people who can make my daughter like."

Meng Shengnan: "..."

He smoked truant to school and played **** with his girlfriend in broad daylight in Internet cafes and even night KTV at home-Meng Shengnan took a breath and didn't dare to say.

The ceremony laughed again: "Thinking that when my mother was young, your grandfather told me that it was a doctor major, but I just fell in love with your dad. Then he would still be a demobilized soldier. He didn’t have money for work and he didn’t spend all day. Days, but Mom just likes him, the facts prove that Mom's vision is not bad, right?"

Meng Shengnan nodded and smiled, "Is Dad going to be messy?"

"Extraordinary."

Meng Shengnan smiled even harder.

The eyebrows of the ceremony are all memories of the youth: "But at that time, your dad was afraid that I would not look at him, and there was no news when he met me. At that time, I was so anxious that I rode a bicycle alone and ran to his house. At that time, he was sitting at the door smoking a cigarette and saw that I was so stupid that the cigarette fell to the ground."

"and then?"

"I didn't give him a good face, so the Beatles asked you if you like me or not, and I'll give you a nice word."

"Wow--"

The voice of the ceremony was gentle: "Then we were together."

"Mom, I didn't expect you to be so good."

The ceremony rubbed her hair: "A lot of things are not as difficult as you think. It's not shy to chase after the time. But there is one thing, you have to make yourself better to have this confidence, do you know?"

Meng Shengnan seemed to understand but not.

The ceremony did not continue the topic, smiled, and said: “Don’t stay up late in the future. It’s not good for your eyes and health. Writing stories is one thing, but I’m angry if I hurt my body. Back then, Lu Yao wrote about the ordinary world. , Yes, he has gained a lot of fame, but how long did he live, he was gone in his early forties, is it caused by staying up late every day, right?"

Meng Shengnan nodded vigorously: "Don't worry, mom."

The ceremony rubbed her head and got up: "Don't talk about it, go to bed early."

That night, I finally had a good dream. I woke up the next day and sunk into the bed at eight or nine o'clock on Saturday morning. Meng Shengnan rolled over lazily, stared for a while and then got up from the bed. The tape in the repeater on the table was spinning, and Ai Yucheng Li Gu Juji was singing to be a cat, a dog, not a lover.

Under the soft silver light at noon, she carefully and neatly copied the text from the desktop on white paper and put it into a stationery bag together with the registration form, and ran out to the street corner post office to send a registered letter.

The weather that day was really good.

The post office aunt asked her to fill out the form, and Meng Shengnan lowered her head to write the address: Germination Magazine, No. 675 Julu Road, Jing'an District, Shanghai. She smiled and wrote the zip code 2○○○4○ on the bottom right.

The ears were too sensitive that day.

Someone came in to buy postcards, and his voice was especially like him. The aunt asked which one to buy, and he said whatever. Then he took Zhang, leaned slightly and took the pen from the box next to Meng Shengnan. She didn't dare to look up, she had already froze, and her heartbeat was uncontrollable.

The distance is very close, and the smell of smoke on his body.

Meng Shengnan pretended to be checking the address and zip code, and the person beside him scribbled a few words and then stood up and left. She immediately turned to look for the figure, and saw the boy slowly throwing the postcard into the mailbox on his chest, and then walked away with one hand in his pocket.

Yu Guang glanced at the name on the postcard.

It says:

Lu Si harvested north.

After sending the letter, she absent-mindedly walked back, patrolling the figure on the street as she walked, and never met again until she returned home. In the afternoon in the sun, Meng Shengnan took a small bench and sat in the yard listening to the ceremony. Speaking of interesting points, the ceremony stopped tying sweaters and laughed: "Listen to your aunt saying that Kang Qi will be back at the end of the year."

Meng Shengnan said ‘oh’, "I heard that he seems to have a girlfriend."

The ceremony was stunned: "Who said that?"

"Li Wan's aunt said."

"Is it--"

Meng Shengnan took advantage of her mother's dazed effort to run upstairs to close the door, and every time she had a headache at Tikang. All the parents in their alley are looking forward to telling Kang Kai about their daughters. At that time, Li Wan was only nine years old, and her lawyer's mother began to kiss the Kanghiti baby. It seems that the influence of top students at Peking University School of Medicine is really extraordinary. Later, when he was studying, Meng Shengnan described him as the man described by Yi Shu, gentle and unassuming.

It was getting dark, and the penguin in the lower right corner of the computer suddenly ticked.

Meng Shengnan put down the repeater he was playing with to read the news, and it turned out to be Zhou Ningzhi.

The boy asked: Yes?

Meng Shengnan: Yes.

Said over there: Today is the 21st.

Meng Shengnan knew what he wanted to ask, sent a smile on Mimi's face, and then replied: Just mailed it at noon.

Zhou Ningzhi: I just returned to Nanjing yesterday.

Meng Shengnan: Then you can't review my manuscript.

Zhou Ningzhi: What Jiang Jin said?

Meng Shengnan made a booing expression, Jiang Lang was not easy to provoke.

Zhou Ningzhi smiled at the computer and replied: Type?

Meng Shengnan's thoughts shifted for a moment, thinking of the boy, and replied: old-fashioned sayings.

At that moment, the wind blew the glass, and a shallow percussive sound spread throughout the room. Meng Shengnan's head tilted toward the darkness in the middle of the night, as if he saw the boy in the school uniform thrown on his shoulders far away under the sky leaning against the wall, lowering his head and smoking a cigarette.

On the desktop, the Penguin rang again.

Zhou Ningzhi asked what it was called.

"Deep sea boy." Meng Shengnan replied.