Like a sudden burst of cold air from Siberia, the whole body quickly became cold.

The south where my hometown is is definitely not that cold. In the winter there, I can run in the morning every day, and it’s not so cold when I get up early. In other words, my heart is not in my hometown, just like iron soaked in ice water. It will rust, and it will get cold and painful.

I dragged my slippers to the window, and I couldn't help but feel excited. Even though I had seen the first snow in my life in this northern city a few days ago, at this time, the white stuff flying outside the window... I still think it is a rare romance in idol dramas.

Our area is a generation deeply influenced by idol dramas.

Perfect idol drama.

Idol drama romance.

In the idol drama, there is the Iceberg Prince whose eyes are unfocused.

There are dreams that girls love to have in idol dramas.

Turn on the TV.

"Heavy snow has no love, but we are together. At 5 o'clock this morning, the blizzard hit again. Snow fell in all provinces across the country. There was freezing rain in the central region. Roads were blocked. Flights from Hong Kong to Hong Kong were grounded. In many areas, cables were damaged and food was in short supply. ,,,,,

That small town in the south also received snow this year, right?

Even if some things are very romantic, too much of them will lead to disaster.

Just like this year's snowstorm, a heavy snowfall that has not been seen in 50 years has covered this vast country. In this crystal clear world of ice and snow, there are still a few people who think it is romantic.

The lights in the kitchen were a little dim, and the white dust on the wall was trying its best to fall down, and black particles were inlaid on it. It was a bit disgusting to see, irregular black patterns, arranged together irregularly.

Abstract, messy beauty does not seem to be so easy for people to accept.

Some things always form a neat order in the human brain, but once they are disrupted, it makes people feel sick.

There are some things, no matter how disgusting they are, you have to accept them.

Now I'm trying to accept it.

The sound of heavy metal collisions echoed and intertwined in the kitchen, forming a dense network.

I know a new life will take place in this web.

There were footsteps outside the door, which were heavier than before. It felt like my heart was hit by some sharp object. The impact was not big but it caused small eyes and slight pain.

I stiffly pulled the corners of my mouth and turned around.

"Mom, are you awake?"

"Um."

She nodded lightly. Her hair had not been combed yet and was messy. It covered her head uneasily like a pile of weeds. She was wearing floral pajamas that had been washed and turned white. Her trousers touched the ground and made many tiny little ones. Fiber silk.

I've had that pajamas for many years.

That pajama is older than me.

Because of her habit, she is always reluctant to buy new replacements, or it has some special meaning.

Once something is given a special meaning, it becomes able to withstand the weathering of time.

"Mom, I'm going to a new school."

No one answered.

"Mom, after I leave later, you can watch TV at home."

It was quiet, only the sound of the water in the pot bursting.

A bank in my heart collapsed, and a pool of sour water surged out, making my eyes so smoky that I couldn't help but cry.

My mother stood at the door, looking at me blankly, like a child asking the teacher why the stars shine. Her eyes were full of doubts. She was sick again.

"Alzheimer's disease" is such a nice name. It was the first time I found the medical record bag at the bottom of the box, the first time I saw this nice name, the first time I saw my mother preparing lessons with a frown on her face, the first time I heard it. You called me by the wrong name. You laughed and cried for the first time. There are many, many firsts. Doesn’t it mean that after experiencing all the firsts, there will be no more sadness? But why, seeing it again Even when he was sick, he couldn't stop crying.

"Mom, go back to your room and I'll comb your hair. It's messy."

Thin hair strands were wrapped around the sandalwood comb. Occasionally, there were silvery white hairs. They were all light colors, but they were still shocking. He was old, he was really old. Time has no effect on anyone.

The same carving knife carves the same patterns, expresses the same effect, and takes away the same beautiful youth. And I still have to spend long years to see how time has carved the patterns on her body more deeply and meticulously.

, and he will also be engraved with lines.

How long, five years, ten years, twenty years?

The streets are bustling with people, countless umbrellas are held high, countless faces have solemn expressions, and countless feet are walking forward hurriedly, for fear that if they walk slower, they will be blocked by heavy snow. Balls of white gas are rushing upwards.

, it has been eroded by the cold before it reaches the edge of the umbrella. Maybe no amount of carbon dioxide at this time can raise the temperature a little bit.

I held an umbrella and walked forward with my head down.

The umbrella is transparent and was given to me by a good friend last winter.

Last winter I was still in that small town in the south.

"Hey, hey, when you miss the shooting star, please set off fireworks."

Gu Mo said and shook my shoulders.

"Where did you see this, kid? When did you become so polite? I'm really not used to it."

"What do you mean? You are allowed to have literary talent, but I am not allowed to be literary?"

Gu Mo pouted, looking dissatisfied, and I smiled.

"Our Momo is such a beautiful lady! Of course she is also a natural beauty in this aspect!"

"That's pretty much it!"

Seeing her turn from anger to laughter, this guy is really getting fast, so I paused.

"Momo, seriously, if you see me setting off fireworks, please look at the sky, there is a meteor shower now."

Momo didn't say anything. She took her schoolbag and ran out of the classroom.

She won't be angry anymore, right? Why?

When I returned to the classroom the next day, there was an umbrella on the table. The transparent umbrella reflected dazzling light.

It’s always rainy in the south, and I know that you are a rain-loving person. Because you always walk home with an umbrella on rainy days, but you never hold it up. Every time I hold an umbrella and walk behind you, it’s fine.

I want to rush up and pull you under my umbrella. I don’t. I think you always smile in the rain. It must be a happy thing to be exposed to the rain! But I still feel that it is not good to be exposed to the rain all the time.

A transparent umbrella, when you stand under it, it must be almost like being caught in the rain!

Gumo

I laughed, what a fool.

My mother would take special care of me when I came home from the rain. She would dry my hair, make me ginger tea, cook me porridge, and give me lots of care and lots of love.

Do you know? Momo, in fact, every time you hold an umbrella and hide behind me for fear of being seen or unable to see me, I really want to turn around, run over, tear off your umbrella, and be with me.

Running in the rain, stepping on the small puddles filled with rainwater on the ground, and then taking you to my house to ask my mother to dry our hair, but I didn't. I was afraid that you would laugh at me, for being such an old man, you still go there in this way.

Get more care from your mother.

Now, when I walk on the streets of a northern city, no one uses a transparent umbrella. No one smiles at me like you do in the south. All of them wear unique fur coats and walk in a hurry.

I pulled on the strap of my schoolbag. My hands with thick gloves were indeed not very flexible.

A painter wearing thick gloves should not be able to draw anything good!

The painters in the north must have very cold hands now!

I took a deep breath, but wanted to spit it out right away. The temperature of my whole body began to drop. I walked forward step by step. Turning right on the street in front is the new school.

I can have a new school, a new school bag, and a new school uniform, but it is impossible to have a new heart. I can throw away the old school bag, old school uniforms, and old magazines, but I can't throw away the memories that have been in my body for years and decades.

Possibility or impossibility, which one is more important and which one makes people happier?

Those days spent waiting for the first yellow leaves to fall under the old apricot tree in my hometown school were blown away by the wind or driven away by the scorching light. There was not a drop of water left for me to touch lightly.

Which one is more sad, staying or leaving? Which one is more cruel?

There are no traces of birds in the sky, but I have also flown through them.

Tagore must have turned gray when he said this!

evil snow

A pair of wings stretches out from the angel's back. She holds a book in her hand and a huge crown at her feet. The golden sculpture will fall without hesitation if snow falls on it, shining brightly in this world intertwined with white.

.

On the playground, there were students in twos and threes, chatting and laughing, not letting the bad weather affect their mood. When they passed by me, they would look at me from top to bottom with suspicious eyes.

It takes a certain process for humans to accept new things.

This is what my high school politics book said.

"Report!"

I folded up my umbrella and leaned it against the door.

"Please come in!"

A loud female voice came out of the office and collided with the cold air outside, but there was no temperature difference. I walked in with a gentle step.
To be continued...