Author: Looking at the beauty after crossing the water
Chapter 1 Massage Parlor
On the street, Zhang Yi looked at the pink glass door in front of him. The word "Massage" was posted on the door with a red sticker. However, the quality of the sticker was obviously not good and it had begun to fade.
After confirming that the address was correct, Zhang Yi stepped forward and pushed open the glass door.
"jingle!"
There is a bell hanging on the glass door.
In the room, a curtain divides the room into an inner room and an outer room. A mirror hanging on the wall faces two massage chairs.
"Do you need a massage?"
Standing next to the massage chair, the old man wearing dark sunglasses raised his head.
"Hello, my name is Zhang Yi. Zhang Shulai is my father. I received notification of his death and came to pack his belongings."
"Are you Zhang Yi?" The old man raised his sunglasses and carefully examined Zhang Yi's face with his left eye, "You are very similar to your father."
"oh!"
"My surname is Zeng. Your father and I are good brothers. Please call me Uncle Zeng."
"Hello, Uncle Zeng."
"Sit down and wait a moment."
"good."
Uncle Zeng put on his glasses again, walked to the incense burner on the table nearby, sprinkled some powder into the incense burner, lit the incense burner and put the lid back on.
Green smoke rises from the incense burner.
"Hiss...ah!!"
The man lying on the massage chair took a deep breath of air, closed his eyes and lay on the chair, and his body began to relax.
The man's voice caught Zhang Yi's attention and he looked down at the guest.
The other person looked to be in his early seventies, and his shiny head reflected light even under the light.
"Pah, pah, pah, pah..."
Uncle Zeng gently slapped his hand on the old man's cheek. The technique was very light. He raised it high and lowered it gently, making a slapping sound like a horse's hoof.
Then he took out a bottle of medicinal wine from the box on the side and smeared it on his palms. After rubbing it repeatedly, he put it on the old man's neck and kneaded it for a while. Then he made a movement similar to a chokehold: "Lower your head."
"Hey!!"
"Hey!!"
Uncle Zeng lifted it several times in succession, but found that he couldn't lift it. He could only turn his head and look at Zhang Yi: "Please help me."
"Help?" Zhang Yi looked at the old man and frowned slightly.
"Yes, just give him a hand."
Zhang Yi nodded and put his hand on the old man's arm. The old man's arm was very hard and it felt like he was pinching on a stone. Zhang Yi lifted it hard and the old man didn't move at all.
"Harder!!"
"good!!"
The old man coordinated with the movements of the two men to straighten his waist as much as possible.
"Relax!"
Uncle Zeng put his other hand on the old man's chin and twisted it hard.
"Click!" sounded.
The three of them breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.
The old man twisted his neck, opened his eyes, looked at the face in the mirror in front of him, touched his face a few times with his palms, and nodded with satisfaction.
"I've suffered a lot from head to toe in my life, but it's your skills that make me feel that I'm worthy of my face."
"Sit more." Faced with the old man's compliment, Uncle Zeng just patted him on the shoulder, turned to Zhang Yi, "Wait a moment, there aren't many things, I'll pack them away."
Zhang Yi nodded.
"Thank you, young man. If it weren't for you just now, I really wouldn't be able to get up."
"fine."
As Zhang Yi spoke, his eyes glanced at the old man. Only then did he notice that the old man was wearing a purple gown and a mandarin jacket.
"Buzzing..."
At this time, Zhang Yi's phone suddenly vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and saw a short message.
Zhang Yi looked a little embarrassed when he saw the message above. He had received this message once the day before yesterday.
"What, is something wrong?"
"No, my friend's father had an accident. There will be a memorial service at 11 o'clock this morning."
"Oh, I can make it in time. The funeral parlor is very close to here. Turn left when you go out and take the road to the passenger terminal. Just walk a few steps forward and you'll be there."
Zhang Yi put away his cell phone: “I haven’t contacted you in a few years.”
"Then we're no longer friends."
The old man leaned half of his arm on the armrest, with his index and middle fingers spread out and gesticulating.
"Those old friends of mine, even if they go out of town, keep in touch every month, and get together every other year to listen to music and drink tea. Those who haven't contacted each other for several years, don't say that his father is dead.
, it has nothing to do with you if he dies."
The old man said so and after groping in his clothes for a while, he took out a packet of Huazi.
After groping for a while, I couldn't find the lighter.
"Hey, that little brat of mine just gave me cigarettes and didn't give me a lighter. Does my little brother have a fire?"
Zhang Yi took out a lighter from his pocket and handed it over.
The old man took the lighter: "I have only two hobbies in my life, listening to music and smoking, and drinking tea and singing opera."
As he spoke, he lifted up his clothes, took out a pink Walkman from his waist, and pressed the play button.
A Suqu song accompanied by pipa and erhu.
Listening to the ditty, the old man put the cigarette to his mouth, lit the lighter, and the cigarette burned like paper.
But the old man didn't care. He took out a cigarette and handed it over: "Want one?"
Zhang Yi stared at the smoke still coming from the old man's fingers and shook his head: "I don't smoke."
"You don't smoke and you still have a fire?"
"For entertainment purposes."
The old man nodded, put the cigarette back, and took a long puff of the cigarette in his hand.
"Hiss... poof."
"Shu Tan, everything in a person's life is virtual. When he dies, only a few relatives and friends at the funeral will be real."
The old man got up, smoked a cigarette, listened to music, and wandered toward the door. He couldn't help humming along with the tune: "Listening to music and smoking, this is life!"
"Ding bell, ding bell" the door closed.
After Zhang Yi watched the old man leave, Uncle Zeng walked out from behind the curtain, holding a box and placing it on the table.
On the box lies a death certificate.
"Here, these are your father's things."
He said and pointed to the store.
"Including this store."
"Shop?" Zhang Yi was a little surprised. He thought Uncle Zeng was the owner of the shop.
Zhang Yi looked at the box in front of him and reached out to pick up the death certificate. The black and white photo showed the remains of an unknown man.
"I don't want this thing, you can handle it as you please."
He put away the death certificate, and as for the box, Zhang Yi pushed it back.
"don't want?"
Uncle Zeng raised his head and looked at him.
"I feel dirty!"
In the year when I could just remember, this guy took his mistress to sleep at home. After being hit by his mother, he not only injured her and sent her to the hospital, but also abandoned their mother and son. He took his mistress happily and happily and never came back for so many years.
"I have no other reason to come. I just want to see with my own eyes that this guy is dead. You can do whatever you want with his things. Just don't disturb me in the future."
"Wait a moment."
Seeing Zhang Yi was about to leave, Uncle Zeng stopped him and took out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket.
"Whether you want these things or not, you must always leave a certificate and sign on them, so as not to embarrass an old blind man like me in the future."
Zhang Yi took the paper, and the handwriting on it was all written with a brush, and the handwriting was neat and elegant.
It probably means that he has received the relic and cannot continue to struggle with this matter in the future.
"Don't mention it. If there is no accident, I will never return to L city in my life."
"Who can be sure about the incomplete guarantee? If you don't sign, I won't feel at ease."
"Okay."
Zhang Yi nodded, picked up the pen on the table, wrote his name on it, put the pen down and turned around to leave.
"jingle……"
Hearing the sound of the door closing, Uncle Zeng played with the piece of paper signed with Zhang Yi's name in his hand, stood up, and opened the curtain behind him.
Behind the curtain, I saw an offering table with a shrine on it.
He took out a long incense stick from the altar table, lit it and inserted it into the incense burner. He looked at the photo of the man enshrined in the shrine.
"You are so ugly, but your son is quite handsome. Hey, I'm afraid your wife didn't borrow the seed behind your back."
"Just kidding, as long as it's your son. If you die and your son takes over, I won't believe it. I can't find that thing."
As he spoke, he took out a black book from the box containing the relics and placed it on the altar table.
With a shake of his hand, the piece of paper signed with Zhang Yi's name floated up, and the ink on it dissolved and twisted, surrounding the signature left by Zhang Yi, entangled together to form a strange curse pattern.
The curse lines flowed down like ink, pouring on the black book...
On the street, Zhang Yi walks briskly. From time to time, you can see some pedestrians wearing Tang costumes and Hanfu taking photos. There are antique stores everywhere on the street. With the antique buildings of L City as the background, it doesn't seem out of place.
feel.
"Zhang Yi!!"
A car drove past Zhang Yi and stopped. After the car window was lowered, a man wearing a mourning cloth on his head stuck out his head and waved to him.
How come we met here?
"Click!"
Wang Bin got out of the car and walked over excitedly: "I thought I saw the wrong person just now. I didn't expect it was really you. I didn't expect you to come over. Thank you, thank you."
Upon hearing this, Zhang Yi knew that the other party had misunderstood, but he did not explain. He just followed Wang Bin's words and said: "I was about to rush over when I met you. I'm sorry."
"Wang Bin."
A woman in the car stuck her head out of the car window.
Zhang Yi had the impression that he had met the woman once, and knowing that she was Wang Bin's mother, he took the initiative to say, "Auntie, my condolences."
Wang Bin's mother nodded numbly: "Get in the car and go together."
"good!"
We took a car to the funeral home with Wang Bin.
"Xiaopeng, thank you."
Wang Bin actually wanted to talk to Zhang Yi, but he didn't know how to speak.
"Let's talk about it after today." Zhang Yi patted him on the shoulder.
"He got lung cancer from smoking, and you still burn cigarettes for him!"
The two walked to the paper burning stove. Wang Bin's mother snatched the cigarette from her youngest son's hand, tore it into pieces and threw it into the trash can.
Upon seeing this, Wang Bin quickly helped his mother to leave.
After the younger son saw his mother leaving, he quietly took out a plastic bag from the bushes nearby. It was full of cigarettes tied with paper, one by one from the Great China.
Zhang Yi walked past him and watched the cigarettes being thrown into the fire one after another. He suddenly remembered the old man smoking without a fire today: "Don't just burn cigarettes, remember to burn two lighters."
The younger son was stunned and nodded thoughtfully.
There were many guests coming to the funeral, but not everyone had sadness on their faces.
Zhang Yi was caught in the crowd, and from time to time he could hear the parents discussing nepotism around him. Several elderly people were also in the crowd, looking sad.
"Last time we agreed to go to Suzhou and listen to the authentic Xiaoxiang Yeyu."
"Now that Lao Wang is gone, there will be less opportunities for us old guys to get together and perform operas again."
"Humph, he left faster than me. Only old friends like us are left. Whoever survives to the end will have no one to send him to."
"Fuck you, Crow Mouth!"
At this time, a burst of mournful music sounded from the loudspeaker, drowning out the gossip in my ears.
"Dong dong..."
At this time, the emcee walked onto the stage and patted the microphone in his hand. While checking the microphone, he also reminded everyone that the farewell ceremony had begun.
The solemn mourning music, together with the eulogy of the emcee, caused bursts of crying from the crowd from time to time.
Silence, the ceremony is over.
Zhang Yi lined up with the crowd and walked into the mourning hall to complete the last journey of bidding farewell to the body.
The suona sound that used to be harsh in the past sounded different today.
As soon as I entered the mourning hall, I heard the displeased voice of the aunt behind me: "Damn it, why is there such a strong smell of cigarette smoke? Who is smoking in this place?"
Zhang Yi raised his nose, and there was indeed a smell of tobacco, but it was not as exaggerated as the other party said. As the team moved forward, Zhang Yi looked up and saw the photos hanging in the hall.
In the black and white photo frame, an old man smiles kindly.
Zhang Yi's face suddenly turned ugly. He turned his neck stiffly and looked at the crystal coffin.
The familiarity with the gown prevented him from looking up, and he stared straight at the hands flat on his chest.
The pink Walkman was held in his left hand, and the index and middle fingers of his right hand were slightly flexed, making a gesture of holding a cigarette.
The suona in the mourning music was getting louder and louder, but the old man's voice came to Zhang Yi's mind.
"Listen to music and smoke, listen to my own sad music, I also want to smoke a cigarette..."