Pingyang Mansion is a thousand-year-old ancient town on the banks of the Fen River and an important town in southern Shanxi. Its long history has accumulated rich resources for this land and also accumulated rich cultural nutrients.
Over the past decade or so, with the development of underground resources, the ancient culture that had been silent in history has gradually regained its vitality. Private schools, such antiques in the pile of old papers, have become popular again.
Sanyou Private School is such a renovated old antique.
This private school is located in a bookstore on the ground floor of Yunhua Community.
The name of the bookstore is Sanyou Bookstore.
The private school teacher is also the owner of this bookstore. His surname is Wu. He is short and chubby. He wears a pair of black-framed round glasses and is accustomed to clasping his fists when greeting people. This has earned him an inexplicable respect in the entire community.
, known as "Mr. Wu" by everyone.
Mr. Wu's private school is very small, with only one teacher and one student.
The gentleman is Mr. Wu.
The student is a boy from a household in Yunhua Community, named Zheng Qing.
Yunhua Community is a model community developed by the Binh Duong Municipal Government in the 1990s. Although from today's perspective, this community is indeed small in scale, with only nine residential buildings; but the geographical location of this community is excellent.
To the east of the community is a bustling commercial street, across from the east gate of the community, facing the largest supermarket in the city. To the west of the community is Pingyang College, the only institution of higher learning in Pingyang City; to the south of the community is the provincial university
The key middle school is Pingyang Experimental Middle School; next to the experimental middle school is the leading private school in the province, Jinnan Middle School. Coupled with the city-owned key elementary school across the street, students in the community who are unlucky have nothing to do from birth to college graduation.
You need to walk two streets away.
Zheng Qing felt that he was only one step away from that legendary life.
The elders in Zheng Qing's family have many school teachers. His grandfather is a professor at Pingyang College, his father is a teacher at Jinnan Middle School next to the community, and his mother is a teacher at Pingyang Primary School across the street from the community. Other uncles and aunts are also active here.
Inside a teaching building. For as long as he can remember, he has been listening to the harsh ringing of the school bell when classes are in and out of class. When he was a little older, he would run around in the playgrounds of several schools.
But no matter how he ran, his life seemed to be trapped in this playground and teaching building.
lock up.
Zheng Qing held up a heavy brush and wrote this word on the snow-white rice paper.
"Concentrate! Don't forget what you're here to do!" The wooden ruler in Mr. Wu's hand lightly knocked on the table, making an intrusive thunk sound.
Zheng Qing took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, tried his best to clear his mind, and tried to describe the post in front of him.
In fact, at the beginning, Zheng Qing practiced calligraphy with his grandfather. As an old-school intellectual, Professor Zheng not only wrote well himself, but he also had very strict requirements for the younger generation.
Before the age of six, I memorized ancient poems, from 300 to 300 Tang poems, to lyrics, tunes, and ancient texts selected by the old professor himself. When he learned to speak, he began to learn to read and memorize classics. Zheng Qing
Together with his other cousins, they began a difficult and seemingly endless endorsement career under the old professor's thumb.
Day after day, no Sundays, no winter or summer vacations.
When I was six years old, I stopped just memorizing books and started learning to write.
Starting from holding the pen, one point, one horizontal stroke, one stroke, one stroke, the dotted lines of the grid are filled with Zheng Qing's boring childhood; the inkstone pool is filled with Zheng Qing's tears of suffering.
I was pulled out of bed at six o'clock in the morning and started practicing morning posts. I had to write fifty large characters before breakfast. I started morning recitation after breakfast. I had to memorize the designated chapter at noon, and then practice a few large characters. Lunch
After half an o'clock, he took a nap and continued to recite and practice calligraphy after getting up. After dinner, he continued to recite and practice calligraphy. At nine o'clock, he was driven to bed. At this time every day until before going to bed, Zheng Qing was the happiest time.
Because he can think freely without having to practice Chinese calligraphy or memorize ancient prose.
But thinking about it is very frustrating.
Every time he falls asleep after having random thoughts, Zheng Qing always falls into a messy dream. It's like a splash-ink landscape painting, ethereal and abstract, making people unable to capture it, but still pursuing it.
Whenever he wakes up from such a dream, he always yells, is covered in night sweats, and often feels sluggish for a day or two. His family just thinks he is having a nightmare, so they take good care of him, and the corresponding homework will be relieved for a day or two.
For Zheng Qing, these days are as happy as a vacation.
After all, the days of nightmare can only be met but cannot be sought.
When he was relatively young, it was difficult for Zheng Qing to enter this dreamland, and he would only have nightmares about once every six months. Perhaps it was a strong desire in his heart, but as he grew older, Zheng Qing's nightmares became more and more frequent and the situation gradually became worse.
stand up.
At first, he just woke up yelling. Then gradually, he began to sleepwalk. Sometimes when he woke up in the morning, he would be horrified to find that he was sleeping on top of the large cabinet at home, and he had no memory of how he got up there.
Sometimes, he would sleepwalk to the balcony, then sing an incomprehensible song, and then crawl back into bed silently to sleep; sometimes, he would even pick up his brush in the middle of the night and draw a large piece of strange symbols.
.
As the nightmare gradually worsened, Zheng Qing began to suffer from headaches.
At first, his family thought he was trying to avoid being lazy and didn't pay much attention. But just to be on the safe side, they also went to a specialized hospital in the city to take X-rays. The doctor couldn't see anything wrong and could only attribute it to the child being too stressed.
, requires a balance between work and rest.
Until one day, Zheng Qing started banging his head against the wall to relieve his headache, which made his family feel nervous. Professor Zheng found his old classmates and took Zheng Qing to the provincial capital and the capital, visiting famous hospitals, but the investigation
Nothing went wrong, but Zheng Qing's headache symptoms became worse day by day.
Finally, Professor Zheng followed the advice of his old friend and asked Zheng Qing to rest and relax and use conservative methods to alleviate his condition. After returning from the capital, Zheng Qing no longer needed to get up and go to bed on time, endorse books, or practice Chinese calligraphy.
But this method of complete relaxation did not make the situation better, but made him have headaches more frequently.
At that time, Zheng Qing was eight years old.
It was also in the spring of that year that Mr. Wu came to Yunhua Community with his pair of black-framed round glasses and opened the ancient Sanyou Bookstore in the No. 3 storefront on the street.
Professor Zheng is an old-school intellectual, and Mr. Wu from Sanyou Bookstore happens to be a knowledgeable and cultural person. Over time, the two old men became close friends in calligraphy and painting.
On a weekend afternoon, Zheng Qing followed the old man to Sanyou Bookstore again. Professor Zheng and Mr. Wu made a pot of tea and discussed Zhang Zhongjing's "Synopsis of the Golden Chamber", while Zheng Qing took a copy of "Harry Potter"
"Special", he looked at it happily.
When he saw the lightning scar on Harry's forehead giving him a severe headache, Zheng Qing seemed to feel the same way. It seemed that he also had a headache, and his mood suddenly worsened. Sighing, closing the book, Zheng Qing shook his head, only to find that it was like a hallucination.
The headache turned out to be real.
A severe headache struck suddenly. Zheng Qing only had time to hum "Headache", then rolled his eyes, fainted in front of the two old men, and began to convulse.