I'm really immortal

Chapter 14 Sycamore Tree



The lights on the street are like dragons, and the moonlight in the sky is like water.

"On the night of the twelfth day of the tenth month of the sixth year of Yuanfeng, I undressed and was about to fall asleep. When the moonlight entered my house, I happily set off. Thinking of the joy of nothingness, I went to Chengtian Temple to look for Zhang Huaimin. Huaimin also didn't go to bed, and he walked beside me. The courtyard. The water under the courtyard is empty and clear. The water is intertwined with algae and covered with shadows of bamboos and cypresses. What night has no moon? Where are there no bamboos and cypresses? But there are few idle people like the two of us."

Liu Changan left the KTV and saw Bai Hui standing under the street lamp from a distance, with a long shadow. Qian Ning and Lu Yuan were helpless, saying something to comfort Bai Hui.

Liu Changan put his hands in his pockets, laughed, looked up at the moon in the sky, and walked home.

Before the invention of computers and mobile phones, there seemed to be little difference between the entertainment life of ancient and modern times. Drinking with prostitutes, playing chess and card games, camping and traveling, reading and tasting flowers, looking at spring, summer, autumn and winter. Each season has its own characteristics. The joy of being good at making things.

Turn off the lights and save fuel to have a baby.

Just thinking about it carefully, in the days long, long ago, people seemed to pay more attention to the intersection of spiritual feelings, rather than just gathering people for fun. Just like Su Shi saw the beautiful moon and dressed up to find Zhang Huaimin. The important thing is We had a long conversation over drinks under the moonlight.

Su Shi was a man who was very good at chanting the moon. He could not only write about the celestial moon in "Shui Tiao Ge Tou", but also the human moon in "A Night Tour at Chengtian Temple", but it was generally cold, bright, and empty. brightly lit.

Liu Changan stepped on the moonlight and still felt that mobile phones and computers were very fun, so he picked up his mobile phone and saw a WeChat message.

"The moonlight is beautiful tonight. I am taking a walk with my mother. We are discussing Zhu Ziqing's "Moonlight over the Lotus Pond"."

"Just in time, I remembered Su Shi's "Night Journey to Chengtian Temple". It's just that you are obviously two people, but you are discussing Zhu Ziqing's solo appreciation of the night. I am only one person, but I am reading Su Shi and Zhang Huaimin's "The Bright Moon". "

"Haha, because there is a lotus pond downstairs. Mom said that people who can still look up to admire the moon are either lonely people or people with a strong mentality. They still know how to settle down in the glitzy world and return to nature. You are What kind of person?"

"A lonely person."

"How is that possible? I feel like you are eloquent and knowledgeable. Such a person should have many friends and be liked by many girls. How can you be lonely?"

"Since your mother understands, what kind of person is she?"

"She...she said she was lonely."

"..."

"..."

When Liu Changan returned home, he felt a little hungry. Baijiu Erguotou and fish tails were just enough to satisfy his appetite. To satisfy his stomach, he still had to eat something else.

There are still some taros at home, which were given by Mrs. Liu. Mrs. Liu owed Liu Changan five yuan for that card game. Later, she took some taros she grew and gave them to Liu Changan, but she did not mention repaying him the five yuan. Yes, Liu Changan naturally understands that they are all old neighbors.

Taro can be used to make soup, or it can be used to make starch instead of grain. In ancient times, taro was often prepared as a reserve during marches, or porridge was cooked to feed the victims during famine relief. Liu Changan simmered the taro, added tender cabbage hearts, cooked it, and added some soy sauce. , tastes sweet yet filling.

There were more people back today than usual at night. Liu Changan came to the mahjong parlor with a bowl in his hand and walked around. Only the old men and old ladies at the last table were left. Liu Changan looked at it and didn't help his old lady Liu. Hu was driven away as soon as he arrived.

Liu Changan passed by the van, hesitated for a moment, took out the key and entered the van again, gently placed the bowl on the top of the coffin lid, and stared at the interesting coffin.

There are really very few people and things that Liu Changan cares about, but in such a deep night, the only thing quiet outside the carriage is the unknown howling in the distance, and the dark color of the coffin in front of him, the deep and vague drifting light. The bright colors seemed to come to life like projections, and the bizarre images captured the eye's attention. Liu Changan couldn't help but feel a little uneasy, picked up the bowl and left the carriage.

That dazed feeling disappeared in an instant. Looking back, it seemed that the coffin was just a dead object, no different from the ones lying in the museum, only the magnetic field of history remained.

Tomorrow is a holiday and he went to the museum. Liu Changan washed the dishes and did housework. It was impossible to review during the holidays. He could only lie down and read a book, or go out for a stroll, so as not to waste the meaning of the holiday.

Before falling asleep, Liu Changan took one last look at the moon in the west. There seemed to be water in front of his house, and the water was criss-crossed with algae. It was not the shadow of bamboo and cypress, but the shadow of the huge sycamore tree. During the season, one of the branches was bare, and the branches cast intertwined shadows on the ground.

When he woke up in the morning, Liu Changan scraped the white rice crispy rice crispy rice from the pressure cooker that had been fried all night with the residual fire of the stove. He fried the paper-thin crispy rice crispy rice crispy rice with oil and added some sugar to make it breakfast. This thing is called Baiyun Pian over there in Jinling.

Liu Changan's cooking was not exquisite, but the taste was good. He took a bag of soy milk placed at the door of the room and drank it. He saw the old people who had gotten up early for a walk gathered under the sycamore tree and talked about it.

The sycamore tree actually dropped more leaves than last night. Mrs. Liu scientifically concluded that the sycamore tree was sick and needed injections. When she was at BJ's son's house for the New Year, she had seen trees like this on the streets of the capital.

Old Man Qian objected, because now is not the time for the Chinese New Year, it was winter, now is summer, and the sycamore trees are just changing their leaves.

Everyone expressed their opinions, and finally found Liu Changan, because he was studying and learning the knowledge of the new era and could give a more scientific explanation.

"Maybe there are some essence-absorbing treasures buried under the sycamore tree, which are absorbing the essence of the creatures in the world." Liu Changan thought for a while and said with certainty, "There is a record in Li Daoren's tomb robbing notes... Well, That book is called "Qi Xing Ji"."

Liu Changan's explanation was very unscientific, but it caused a new round of discussion peak. No one said that there was a new era explanation. The discussion on this feudal superstition became more heated. Liu Changan drank soy milk while listening and expressing his own views. Detailed explanations of the insights gained from various strange stories and novels.

"Before liberation, this was a cemetery. Last time I planted vegetables, I even dug out a bone."

"That's the drop on the pig's head! What a shame!"

"You are young, haven't you heard about the ground dragon in Huangfengping sucking water and spitting out beads? That was in 19... 1966, and the beads spit out by the ground dragon fell here... Yes, the location is mine I remember clearly that it was under this sycamore tree."

After chatting for a while, the old people were called back for breakfast by their wives at home. Liu Changan looked back at the truck, then changed into a pair of trousers, a shirt, and clean flat cloth shoes, just like the young man thirty or forty years ago. Like students, they walked towards the museum neatly.


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