Chapter 37: Bad Luck
1433 Words
Deng Haijun had a rivalry with Zhuang Ziang, but he was deeply sorry for losing such an excellent opponent.
The two sat at the bus stop, looking at the traffic in front of them, and talked for a long time.
From the first confrontation at the beginning of the school to the first hand-in-hand competition, the past scenes reappeared, which made people feel a lot.
Youth, in tears and sweat, quietly flowed away.
Suddenly, bus No. 19 turned from the corner of the street.
Zhuang Ziang will never be nineteen years old.
He picked up his mobile phone and saw that it was exactly six ten.
But the little butterfly was gone.
"Haijun, do you know where bus No. 19 goes?" Zhuang Ziang asked.
"Xiaoyao Palace, isn't it written there?" Deng Haijun pointed to the sign behind him.
"If you have nothing to do, why don't you accompany me to take the bus for a while? I'll pay for the fare." Zhuang Ziang smiled.
"Two yuan for the fare, you are really generous." Deng Haijun said.
Zhuang Ziang frowned.
Yes, it only costs two yuan to take a bus.
And every time Little Butterfly goes home, she has to leave four yuan, which means she will change buses again.
It's not easy to know where she lives.
When the two got on the bus, there were no seats left, so they could only hold the hanging ring.
The door closed, the driver stepped on the accelerator, and the scenery on both sides gradually receded.
"Uncle, there is a girl who often comes to take the bus. She wears a white shirt and a blue skirt, and a peach blossom on her head. Do you know which stop she gets off?"
Generally speaking, passengers are not allowed to talk to the driver to avoid interfering with the driver's driving.
So Zhuang Ziang spoke quickly and briefly.
Little Butterfly is so beautiful that she will attract attention wherever she goes. He thinks the driver should have an impression of her.
The driver waved his hand: "I don't know, I can't disclose the privacy of passengers."
In one sentence, Zhuang Ziang was pushed back.
He could only helplessly give the uncle a thumbs up, which is really professional ethics.
"After all the trouble, you are taking me to chase girls." Deng Haijun pouted in dissatisfaction.
"It's the girl you met yesterday. I'm a little worried about her." Zhuang Ziang said bluntly.
"Zhuang Ziang, listen to my advice. A wise man doesn't fall in love. You are on the wrong path now." Deng Haijun advised expressionlessly.
"You, a guy, have no interest in girls at all?" Zhuang Ziang asked.
"Hehe, women will only affect the speed of my sword drawing." Deng Haijun pushed his glasses with his middle finger.
In his opinion, Zhuang Ziang was obviously degenerate.
An excellent academic master should not be troubled by love affairs.
If you don't believe it, look at Newton, Leibniz, Descartes, Tesla, Pascal, which of them has a wife?
The two of them wandered on the bus all the way, and they didn't know where to get off in the middle, so they simply sat at the terminal Xiaoyao Palace.
This is the most famous Taoist temple in the local area, and it is prosperous all year round.
The word Xiaoyao is a rare state of life.
Zhuang Ziang and Deng Haijun walked into the mountain gate and visited and toured at will.
Smelling the strong sandalwood scent, the mood also became peaceful.
"There is a fish in the North Sea, its name is Kun, Kun is so big, I don't know how many thousands of miles it is!" Deng Haijun couldn't help but recite "Xiao Yao You".
"Haijun, do you know what Kun sounds like?" Zhuang Ziang asked with a smile.
"Hehe?" Deng Haijun asked tentatively, and even used his hands to simulate flapping wings.
Zhuang Ziang couldn't help laughing.
It turns out that this serious academic master also knows humor.
"Young man, loud noises are prohibited in the temple." A voice came.
Zhuang Ziang quickly stopped laughing and looked over. It was a Taoist priest in a Taoist robe.
"I'm sorry, Taoist priest."
On the table in front of the Taoist priest, there was a fortune stick, and on the wall behind him were fortune sticks.
It was obvious that he was a fortune teller for tourists.
"Haijun, do you want me to help you ask about your marriage?" Zhuang Ziang teased.
"No need, my fate is determined by me, not by God." Deng Haijun didn't believe in this kind of thing.
Zhuang Ziang didn't believe it either, after all, they were all good students of dialectical materialism.
The so-called fortune-telling is just to seek a little psychological comfort.
The Taoist priest stared at the red string on Zhuang Ziang's wrist: "This is something from our Taoist temple."
Zhuang Ziang raised his wrist and a faint peach blossom fragrance came.
"Really? This is given to me by a girl."
"It can bless you with peace." The Taoist priest said.
Zhuang Ziang was a little excited. It seemed that the little butterfly had been here.
Her home might be nearby.
"Then I'll ask for a lot!" Zhuang Ziang said respectfully.
"Boring." Deng Haijun curled his lips.
Arriving in front of the temple, Zhuang Ziang shook the lot tube and shook out a lot in more than 20 seconds.
He took it up and looked at it, and his pupils shrank suddenly. A bad lot.
Zhuang Ziang handed the lot to the Taoist priest, who quickly found the corresponding lot.
It was a short poem.
A song of clear lyrics and a cup of wine, it is hard to find the fragrance of Taoyuan.
Zhuang Zhou dreamed of turning into a butterfly again, and could not enter the world freely.
It is indeed a bad fortune. The words "difficult", "dream" and "empty" are not good words.
"Young man, what do you want to ask?" The Taoist priest looked solemn.
Zhuang Ziang was stunned by the question, and even he himself didn't know what to ask.
After all, there is no good life, and everything is empty.
After thinking for a long time, he replied: "I am looking for someone, can you tell me where she went?"
The Taoist priest frowned: "Don't look for her, she will come back naturally, but..."
"But what?" Zhuang Ziang asked hurriedly.
"Desires and thoughts can be sought at any time, it is better not to move, and you can plan it right away." The Taoist priest had an unfathomable expression and played a riddle.
Then he was long-winded, a bunch of nonsense.
It seemed that he said a lot, but it seemed that he said nothing.
Zhuang Ziang was confused, and finally obediently paid the ten yuan for the fortune-telling fee.
The Taoist priest accepted it with a smile, and then pointed outside the mountain gate: "There is an old lady selling snacks over there. She is alone and helpless. If you are hungry, you can go and take care of her."
"You were cheated out of ten yuan, right?"
After walking away, Deng Haijun began to laugh at Zhuang Ziang.
Zhuang Ziang smiled: "It's okay, just treat it as an offering."
Although there was a cloud of doubt lingering in his heart.
But Little Butterfly said that she was only delayed for a few days and would be back next week.
It should be okay.
The two walked out of the mountain gate and saw an old lady selling snacks.
Her temples were gray and her face was full of vicissitudes.
There was a load in front of her, selling tofu pudding.
"Hainan, you have been with me for so long, let me treat you to a bowl of tofu pudding!" Zhuang Ziang felt sympathetic.
"You have a conscience." Deng Haijun accepted it happily.
The two came to the stall, and Zhuang Ziang said, "Grandma, two bowls of tofu pudding."
The old lady stood up quickly, looked up at Zhuang Ziang, and her eyes were very turbid.
Zhuang Ziang was kind-hearted, and when he saw such a lonely old man, he was a little tearful.
I always felt that the old man's eyebrows and eyes were somewhat friendly.
"Young man, do you want salty or sweet?" The old lady's voice was a little hoarse.
"I want sweet, put more sugar." Deng Haijun said immediately.
"You are really an outlier, who eats sweet tofu pudding? I want salty." Zhuang Ziang gave a contemptuous look.
The salty and sweet tofu pudding party is an irreconcilable contradiction.
- Writer
