Last Friday, I made a small appointment with my best friend. Although we are both in the imperial capital, we are exhausted in making a living, and it is rare to see each other a few times throughout the year. But there is an emotion that I have grown up with since I was a child, that is, I can call you instantly with a phone call, and return to my childhood in seconds after a dozen face-to-face meetings.
When we met, sat down, chatted while eating, it was inevitable to dig out all kinds of embarrassing memories from childhood to adulthood and have a drink. While chatting, I talked about my idol who has not changed my original intention for more than 20 years since I was a child-Liu Hezhen.
Yes, you read that right, it is Liu Hezhen in Mr. Lu Xun's masterpiece "In Memory of Mr. Liu Hezhen".
When Fa Xiao and I were in junior high school in the early years, we had a common spiritual idol—a great thinker, revolutionist, writer, and the famous thin man in the literary world, Mr. Lu Xun. At that time, the two of us were so obsessed with Lu Xun that we read almost all of Mr. Da’s anthology works, and we each wrote a small book, picking out our favorite sentences as excerpts.
In the winter vacation of the second year of junior high school, Faxiao and I made an appointment to visit the former residence of Lu Xun outside Fucheng Gate in Beijing to visit and make a pilgrimage. I still remember that I was too excited to sleep at that time, and woke up at five o'clock in the morning. After getting up and dressing up carefully, he and Fa Xiao squeezed onto the No. 110 bus and headed straight to Fuchengmen.
When we arrived at the former residence of Lu Xun, the excitement and joy of the two of us went without saying. We wandered into an exhibition hall and saw the black-and-white photos of Liu Hezhen and Yang Dequn, two martyrs of the student movement, in the glass window.
This guy must have entered the house where the idol used to live, and he was a little too excited. I saw her approaching me excitedly, pointing her finger at the photo of Liu Hezhen, and said to me with joy: "Hey, hey. , Look, look, it’s Liu Hezhen! She’s quite pretty, her eyebrows look a bit like Gao Yuanyuan, don’t she? Even this hairstyle is too rustic, like a tomboy!”
Hearing her bluff, I also walked up to take a closer look. Not to mention, Mr. Liu Hezhen did look a bit like Gao Yuanyuan, but I didn't care about words, so I dragged Fa Xiao and went to the next window.
Less than ten minutes before and after, Fa Xiao suddenly felt a sharp pain in her right ankle like a needle prick. At first, she barely supported herself and wanted to continue visiting the novel Ghost Husband , but the symptoms became more and more serious. Within an hour, Fa Xiao had already Lala could hardly walk anymore.
I was also frightened by her ghostly grinning teeth and mouth in pain, so I hurriedly helped her out of Lu Xun's former residence step by step, took a taxi and went straight to the People's Hospital.
I still remember that it was too late to go to the orthopedic clinic, and I went directly to the emergency department. When the doctor palpated, I was horrified to see that Faxiao's ankle was red and swollen. No damage was found after the X-ray examination, so the doctor had to diagnose it as acute Achilles tendonitis, prescribed a tube of Voltaren for Fa Xiao, and sent us away.
So I carried my huge hair back to their house with support and support, and then went home by myself cursing. As soon as I entered the door, my dad gave me a "soul torture": "Didn't you go to the former residence of Lu Xun? Why did you come in now? Where did you go?"
I was speechless and choked, and said to myself, look at this day! What's the matter~
Who would have thought that early the next morning, I was still immersed in the dream of sitting and eating fennel beans with Mr. Lu Xun, and was suddenly awakened by the landline on the bedside table. When I picked it up, it was me who made it small.
On the phone, she excitedly yelled at me: "My leg is healed! I'm fine!" I didn't get angry, and I thought it would be fine. Call to report to me?
Before I could yell at her, Fa Xiao continued, "Guess what? I actually dreamed of Liu Hezhen last night! That dream was so real, I just saw her in front of my bed and stared straight at her. I took a moment, and then my eyes started to bleed, bright red blood…"
When I heard this, I hung up the phone with a "snap", scaring my aunt to death! I was just about to get up and go to the toilet to calm my shock, when Fa Xiao's chasing soul call came again, and she continued:
"At that time, I had a nightmare, and I couldn't move like a ghost on a bed. At this time, I saw Liu Hezhen suddenly leaned forward and touched my inflamed ankle. Her hand was cold and cold, like a cold compress. , I woke up with a shiver."
The first thing Fa Xiao did after waking up was to check his ankle. The acutely inflamed ankle actually subsided from the swelling and pain, and all the problems disappeared! Fa Xiao decided that it was she herself who disrespected the martyr Liu Hezhen yesterday, and they punished her a little.
But the martyr has a broad mind after all, and after all, he didn't hurt a two hundred and five girl who had no malice, and took advantage of the dead of night to appear in a dream and healed her unlucky foot.
That day when I was a child, Bai Lai relentlessly got me out of the kang, and accompanied her to the former residence of Lu Xun on a special trip. In front of Liu Hezhen's photo, Fa Xiao bowed three ninety-degree bows politely, attracting a few sporadic tourists to look at her in surprise.
The moment Li Bi got up, I caught a glimpse of Fa Xiao's eye circles burning red, as if there were crystal tears shining in her eyes.
After many years, when Fa Xiao talked about this past, he was still emotional and punished himself with three cups of Arctic Ocean.
In fact, what I want to say is that Mr. Liu Hezhen did a great job! Today's young people can be said to be outspoken and outspoken, and anyone dares to use it to make jokes. Lei Feng, Dong Cunrui, Qiu Shaoyun and other glorious names that shine in the childhood memories of our generation are inevitably being misrepresented and joked into jokes, which are widely circulated.
I think the martyrs would not do anything to these ignorant and fearless brats even if they were alive. Can children live better and happier lives?
It's just you bastards who are so happy that you forget what you are doing, won't your conscience really hurt?