Since the university, I have chosen to work in Beijing. Like many people in North Drifting think, there may be more opportunities in big cities, but there is more competition here. Every day, there are many people who cannot live in Beijing and leave. The city returns to its hometown.
Know Xiao Nan is in Houhai, where he plays his dream with a guitar every day. In this area of Houhai, the youngest people in the bar or on the street holding a guitar and chasing dreams are the most in need of everyone. But Xiao Nan is different. He has a special feature. He goes every day at 8 o'clock. After the guitar sounds are all set, he will insert a sweet incense on the speakers to start singing. After the incense is burned, he will carry the guitar. With sound, leave. Regardless of how many people were around him and whether it was rain or rain, they would come to this place every day to sing a gong.
Gradually knowing that he had more people, everyone called him Xiangge. Every time someone would talk, he wouldn’t answer. He would sing his own song and go after singing.
I happened to drink with friends in Houhai that day. They would have to go to the nightclub once more. I was the kind of introverted person. I would not like to go to places like this. Bid farewell to a friend walking alone on the way home, just like Xiao Nan burning incense after sitting on the edge of the road to pack things, I watched him did not speak, they passed.
"Is there any smoke in you?" He suddenly spoke. It surprised me. Although he hadn't seen him, he often heard friends talk about him. He never talked to other people. Now he suddenly chatted with me. Feeling flattered. His voice was husky, but he was very patient.
"Yes, yes." I took out the smoke and the fire from my pocket and handed it to him. He clicked on a guitar again and threw it back.
"Thank you. Why don't you take it?"
"I don't smoke, but when I come out to work, sometimes it's hard to talk about it without smoke, so I always have a box on my body."
"Oh, I don't smoke. When I first came to Beijing, I wouldn't. But now it's not a taste to pump a few hearts every day."
After a few more chats, he took the guitar and carried the guitar away. From that day onwards, when he had time, he would go to him and hear a few words. Every time he went to him, he would ask me for a cigarette, say two words, and when he finished smoking he would go. Slowly I also knew the stories he had happened in Beijing in recent years and the people he met in Beijing.
Five years ago, he came to Beijing alone with his guitar to work hard for a dream. At first, he was like other street singers. He sang every day in Houhai for hours. At that time his nephews were not as husky as they are now. It is a very magnetic sound. After sing for more than a year in Houhai, there was no improvement. However, he was farther and farther away from dreams. At that time he had already wanted to give up. But just as he was leaving, a girl entered his world.
The girl came to hear him sing every day. It was just a few hours. Every day when he came, she was already waiting there. She only walked after singing and she went away. Every time Xiao Nan talked to him, she asked her. Asked what to listen to every day to sing, girls do not speak, just laugh there. Later, Xiao Nan knew through the girl's friend that the girl's name was July 7, and she suffered from severe depression. She hadn't spoken for a long time. I hope Xiao Nan can help her.
From that day onwards, every time after Xiao Nan sang, he would go and tell her something. She listened carefully without answering. For a long time, Xiao Nan likes to talk to her, but not like it, but simply talk, because she will not refute, will not laugh, tell her what she listens to are very careful, Xiao Nan always Tell her about her own experiences, my own troubles and my awkwardness for the future. He does not like the seven or seven or seventy-seven. It is not because of seventy-seven that he has depression, but he has a fiancee in his hometown. He will be married back home in a few months, but he has not yet said to seven or seven because he does not know how to talk with seventy-seven, he knows Seventy-seven loved him, and depression in the past seven or seven days was a little better. He wanted not to tell seventy-seven, but wait until then.
The days are always flies, and in a blink of an eye has passed more than three months. In these more than three months, the condition of July 7 has greatly improved. It is still a day to listen to Xiao Nan singing, but the mood is no longer low. It will also communicate with people who are listening to the songs. The people around said that they were well-matched, but seventy-seven always blushed that he was my brother.
The difference came quickly. After listening to the reasons for Xiao Nan's return that night, seven and seven days passed before he said: Brother, can I hug you? I'm cold. Xiao Nan nodded, seven seven held up, his face was stuck on Xiao Nan's chest, tears kept flowing down the drain
Even Xiao Nan's clothes were soaked, and they sat on the road for one night. Xiao Nan took a train back in the afternoon the next day and may never return again.
Xiao Nan thought that since July 7th, he would have been disconnected and there would be no more news. Xiao Nan received a call on July 7th on the day of his wedding. After he connected, he only spoke on July 7th, but also Say a word to hang: I wish you both a happy life.
The next morning, Xiao Nan received a telephone call from her seven or seven friends. In July and July, she committed suicide at home and her family found it too late. There was a suicide note on her desk. The news seemed to be awkward. Xiao Nan thought that seventy-seven may be sad and may be dull for a while, but he didn't think that seven or seven would choose this road.
On the afternoon of the same day, Xiao Nan and his wife came by plane from Yunnan to Beijing to meet the last side of July 7th. After seeing the suicide note, Xiao Nan thought that he had killed seven or seven. He and his wife returned to Yunnan a few days later. He himself came back to Beijing with his guitar and came to Houhai, where he once sang. Every time you sing, you will get a scent of incense, as if you could hear it like seven or seven. He also learned to smoke. Every time he sang songs, he would go to the bar and drink. It might be better to be drunk. His nephews have become hoarse and full of vicissitudes during this time.
Xiao Nan told me that if he did not come to Beijing at first, he would not sing in Houhai. May not meet seven or seven, nor will it fail a girl, nor will it harm a young life. I didn't have the experience of him, I couldn't understand his current mood, I could only comfort him. It wasn't his fault. At least he gave 77 to have a happy memory at the end of his life. I tried to ask Xiao Nan what the seventy-seven's suicide note was written. He shook his head and did not speak. He might be drunk, or he might not want to tell others this last thought.
After listening to Xiao Nan’s experience on that day, I went to Shanghai on a business trip. I didn’t go back for a long time and I didn’t contact Xiao Nan again. On the second day after my return to Beijing, he called me. I want to drink with me once more, because he will return home tomorrow. The ideal is ideal. Memories are memories, but people have to go forward. In the bar at night, he told me a lot, saying family, saying an encounter, saying feelings, saying that in the future, I should sing and listen, listening to him there for a while crying for a moment, laughing, not calm, but an extra deep feeling.
The next day I took him to the airport. In addition to saying goodbye to me, he gave me a box. It was a suicide note from July 7th. After he returned, he would start again. Some things will be left in Beijing.
Opening the box is a piece of paper that is yellow because of tears. There are not many words. I buried the box in the back of the sea. After all, that was where the memory began and it should end there. Just a few words on the paper, but let me still remember:
I have been in a house without sunshine
So many people passing by
No one opens a window
Let me feel a trace of light
Until I met him
I don’t know if I’m happy or sad
Because he pushed the door for me
But took away the sun