Chapter 42: ?The storyteller is God

Luo Zhi didn't like going back to high school very much.
She has always felt that the school is a very cruel place, one by one, standing quietly on the desolate time axis, fixing youth in a small space, fighting bitterly, and deceiving herself to say that youth has no regrets and is willing to bet. Obviously we are in the best years, but we have to listen to the deception of the elderly and put our happiness and hope on graduation and growth. They opened their mouths to vomit generation after generation, never miss the past, but indifferently watched poor people like Luo Zhi looking back for memories, but they couldn't provide a trace of residual warmth.
Zhenhua High School is still open. Although it is Saturday, the third grade still has classes.
Her head teacher was still leading the class in the third year of high school, so she signed a name in the mail room and said to find teacher Qi, and was directly put in.
It was the first class in the afternoon. The school uniforms worn by the students this year are different from what they were back then, but looking inside from the open door, the students inside are similar every year.
There are mountains of exercise books, papers, water bottles, snacks piled up on the table, and schoolbags thrown on the ground or hanging on the back of the chair. In the classroom, because the window has not been opened for a long time in winter, a slight moldy smell diffuses all the way to the door, but the inside is for the college entrance examination. The struggling children do not feel strange.
The school's zoning is clear and clear, and each grade is divided into administrative areas, laboratories, etc. Luo Zhi walked through every place she had stayed in earnest. It seems that there has been a change, but nothing has changed.
When I walked, I was overwhelmed by memories.
The corridor on the first floor is still clearly illuminated. She remembered that the people who walked in front of her always held their heads up slightly, their backs were very straight, and they liked to carry their schoolbags with their left hands and their pockets with their right hands. When they walked, the back of their heads fluttered slightly.
The door number and the new class logo were changed at the entrance of the class, but even the marble floor tiles at the entrance still looked familiar and familiar. He did not remember that she had spoken to him face to face here. The class was boiling, only she saw him standing at the door and said: "Classmate, please help me find Ye Zhanyan."
The women's toilet on the sixth floor has also been replaced with new door panels, which does not match the color of the corridor walls. Back then, she held back her confession all the way, and finally bumped into here.
There is also the window sill opposite the lobby railing.
The results of the first mock exam for senior high school were announced, and March 24 was also the first anniversary of him and Ye Zhanyan. He still took the first place in the school year, but it was not important anymore. He passed the recommended student exam and entered the P-Breeding School of Life Sciences; on the other side, Ye Zhanyan never bothered about his grades. Luo Zhi got the first place in the liberal arts exam, but her total score was pitiful, which was 78 points away from Sheng Huainan.
Although the arts and sciences are different, she would secretly compare with him in the same subjects every time, and this time she lost completely.
She walked across the corridor holding a stack of her own rolls, just past the window sill. Sheng Huainan and Ye Zhanyan sat side by side, looking leisurely and sympathetically at the corridor full of students crying because of their poor grades. Two people like this at ease.
She was stinged deeply.
The tingling sensation is still real now, but it has been coated with time, and a strange sense of isolation lies in the middle. Luo Zhi smiled self-deprecatingly, and saw the flagpole on the playground through the window.
She remembered that on the day of the graduation ceremony, she was the first in liberal arts, and the first in science was another person. She and the little boy were the flag-raisers when they graduated. From the corner of her eyes, she caught Sheng Huainan and her classmates standing in the first row laughing indifferently, and did not look at the podium—the teachers were all sorry for him who had performed abnormally. He disagrees. It's just that he never knew that the the stage wanted to be a flag-raiser with him.
Want it so so much.
The other flag-raiser was too weak, and the national anthem was finished. Their flag was still some distance from the top. When the two of them were in a hurry, they pulled up hard, and the national flag rose up like a bunny, and the graduates below laughed. She blushed and looked in the direction of Sheng Huainan. Sheng Huainan was also laughing, but pointed to the flagpole and turned to Ye Zhanyan, as if to say, look.
look.
Sheng Huainan was tied to her too deeply, he remembered wherever he went. If the part about him is really taken out, then the road she walked will immediately fade into a black and white silent film.
Luo Zhi suddenly felt regretful, why didn't he tell his story to others?
She only now understands the wisdom of that story when she was a child.
She will also tell her story very well. In real life, time control restrains her; and in the story, she is the master, controlling space and time flying around, and can pick up clues buried in daily trivialities, reorganize the arrangement, and vow to tell the audience. Intoxicated, tearful eyes.
But it's just an idea. The story may not be as easy to tell as she thought—because as she told it, she felt sorry for the self who was trapped in time and looked at the future.
Her story is nothing more than secret love, the easiest relationship in the world to preserve and destroy.
There is still a difference between secret love and unrequited love. On the street, a woman grabbed a man's sleeve and shouted "I am not good at all, why can't you love me"-these are unrequited love, but not counted as secret love. She thought, she was worthy of the word "secret".
At least worthy of it.
Once, she had the determination to bring the secret to the grave.
It seems that as soon as she closes her eyes, she can recall that at noon on November 4, she carried the English papers of the class in her arms through the deserted office corridor. She was in a top class in her first year of high school, and there were a lot of top students who were admitted to this key high school. Everyone cared about the first mid-term exam since she entered high school. At that time, the English score was the last one, and it was actually a long time slower than the Chinese score.
After the results of each subject are announced, everyone will calculate the total scores by themselves. Therefore, before the announcement of the English results, the students in the class have basically ranked the top few by themselves. She roughly flipped through the papers and found that English performance might have a reversal effect on rankings. Thinking of the students who were waiting for their grades in the class, I felt a little bit of pride in overriding everything and overlooking all beings.
It is very abnormal.
The sunlight came in from the large row of windows on the left. The light was pale and bright, dazzling but not warm. It fell on the ground and was cut into sections by the window lattices and walls. She closed her eyes, shuttled in the light and shadow, quietly feeling the gray brown and orange alternately appearing outside the thin eyelids. I suddenly remembered that when I was young, the text always said "our school has a spacious and bright hall". "Spacious and bright" is really a beautiful word. If you read it silently, you will feel that your mood will change.
At this moment, the door of the language office in front opened, and the head teacher poked his head out. When he met her, he raised a stack of papers in Yang's hand and said: "What a coincidence, I am going to find a student to help. Luo Zhi, come here."
Sometimes she thought that if she strode forward in a regular manner instead of drowsy in narcissism, she would not meet the head teacher. Of course, she does not intend to label it "destined".
There will always be intersections in the same school. Besides, she rushed over to the best high school in the province, wasn't it because of him?
In the office, a teacher is boasting loudly that the boys in his class have scored 140 points in Chinese. The head teacher asked her to copy 60 copies of the class's total score ranking to prepare for the parent meeting three days later. She picked up the list and was about to leave, when the teacher stopped her again and said: "Print out this school year score distribution sheet."
She took it and looked at it. It was a large table, with the class number on the horizontal axis and the score section on the vertical axis. In the first row, "880 points and above" is written-the total score of the first test is 950, 150 points for each language, and 100 points for physical chemistry, history, geography and politics. I took a look at my own score and found that it was 884 points, so I can make the list. She stunned, but on the surface she restrained her emotions.
She has always been able to pretend.
Only three classes appeared in this column. They wrote "4" on the second class, "2" on the first class, and "1" on the third class. The next column is "840~860" points, and the number of students in each class has appeared one after another.
She turned to go out and said to the teacher: "Our class did a very good job."
The teacher closed his eyes slightly and smiled restrainedly, suppressing joy in front of his colleagues in the office, suddenly opened his eyes somehow and said loudly, "Wait a minute."
She took out a fountain pen and said to Luo Zhi: "Write a few words on the watch before copying."
Luo Zhi asked: "What do you write?"
She pointed to the position of the first row of Class 3 and said: "Just write here, Sheng Huainan, 921.5."