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Author: Dabu Sisi

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I went to the radio station to audition at the beginning of school and was rejected, but was attracted by another voice. I left the radio station as usual, but the station master paid close attention to it. I was forced to suspend school and separate and then meet again. Is it fate?Can I respond now?

In the third story, Jiang Sheng's best friend, the story of w

Content tags: soft spot sweet article

Search keywords: Protagonist: Wang Ping, Wang Ping┃Supporting role: Jiang Sheng┃Others: Chen Haoqing, Zhang Zhengyi, Xi Xiaodong

一

After completing the admission procedures and seeing his father off, Wang Ping looked at the passing bus, raised his hand and scratched his head, and turned back to school.

Looking at the four big characters on the school gate, Wang Ping raised his hand and carefully drew stroke by stroke from the air.Pausing his fingers in the air, Wang Ping raised the corners of his lips, grinned heartlessly, withdrew his hands and licked his trouser pockets, and walked into the campus with great strides, throwing away all the emotions just now.

It was Wang Ping's fight to go out of the province to study. In a family with only one child, the parents were reluctant to let their children go too far, and they were reluctant to leave too far.

The post-[-]s are divided into batches, the early ones are not so obedient, and the later ones are not more self-conscious. The middle ones, the real only children, have really experienced a completely different life: relying on themselves is the first step, I can only rely on myself, and my family can only rely on myself; no support is the second step. Parents stay in the capital, parents' brothers and sisters all leave their hometowns, and children of the same age who grew up together did not stop changing. Wang Ping had a lot of childhood, and Wang Ping did not have a childhood. There are friends, but they are always separated by something; the third step is to be strong, because there is no support, no support, and you can only persevere and face it with strength. and take on everything.

People always talk about what happened to the post-[-]s generation, and they speculate on various conclusions based on some details.In fact, what happened to the post-[-]s, who knows except the post-[-]s themselves?

People always say what happened to the only child, and based on such and such special cases, they use a bit of cover to extrapolate self-righteous arguments.In fact, what happened to the only children, who really knows except the only children themselves?

Wang Ping No. [-] Middle School, the only daughter, insisted on leaving the capital, using the four years of university freedom, returning to the two-person world of her parents for four years, and returning to Beijing to accompany her after four years.

Wang Ping shook his head amusedly. His parents responded to the country's call of "late marriage and childbearing, fewer and better births". Only when his mother was thirty-three, Wang Ping was born. His father was thirty-seven.

It is said that a daughter is the mother's little padded jacket, and the love of the father's previous life. Wang Ping is considerate, filial, warm, and caring. The most capricious is only the request of leaving Beijing for four years.If there is a brother or sister, perhaps, they will not be so dependent on their parents, pin all their hopes and all their love.

A person who bears the selfless devotion and wholehearted love of two people, how can he be more self-willed and say, to be yourself, to find yourself?I am not my parents, or what my parents expect me to be.

When Wang Ping looked at the city wall in front of the railway station, tears welled up in his eyes, and he fell in love with Xi'an almost instantly, a city that almost fully interprets the 5000-year history of China.Even breathing becomes smoother, it seems that this is where the soul returns to.

The campus is very simple and full of history, with tree-lined avenues, teaching buildings, groves, and fitness areas. Wang Ping raised his eyes and saw a piece of green in the distance. He grinned again, picked up his pace, and trotted to the track and field stadium.The newly completed plastic track still smelled of glue. Wang Ping closed his eyes, stood in the middle of the playground, opened his hands, greedily inhaled the smell of the playground, soured his nose, made a dot with his left foot, and drew a circle with his right foot. Spinning to stop the tears pouring out of my eyes, I started to run.

Only those who keep running can keep moving forward.

When Wang Ping left covered in thin sweat, he saw a two-story building next to the playground, with a sign hanging at the door: Broadcasting Station.

There were several people lined up at the door.

recruit new?Another coincidence happened, and Wang Ping stood at the end of the line and followed in line.

The first blunder happened very delicately.

Wang Ping graduated with No.2 grades, and originally filled in the B major in his volunteering. The night before confirming his volunteering, he had a dream, and changed his volunteering to X majoring by accident.

Now, they are queuing up to participate in the recruitment of the broadcasting station again.

Wang Ping believes in destiny, and believes that what has come will be safe, so when facing the microphone and the broadcast script in his hand, he is not too excited.

The voice is slightly lower, and compared with women of the same age, it is less sweet, less sharp, more gentle, and more calm.Wang Ping looked at the excerpts of the manuscript, Zhu Ziqing's "Moonlight in the Lotus Pond", and said to Mai: "I am the only one on the road, walking with my hands behind my back. This piece of world seems to be mine too; I also seem to be beyond my usual self. In another world. I like to be lively, but also to be calm; I like to live in groups, but also to be alone. Like tonight, under this boundless moon, I can think about anything and think about anything, and I feel like a free person I don’t care about what I have to do and what I have to say during the day. This is the beauty of being alone; I’ll enjoy the boundless lotus fragrance and moonlight.”

Wang Ping liked this article very much and kept it in his heart, especially this paragraph of the article.

Walking out of the studio, I bumped into a girl who pushed the door in. The girl turned her red face and nodded slightly to Wang Ping: "Sorry." She turned and walked into the studio.

Wang Ping stopped at the door, turned his back to the closed door, and listened to the not-so-clear but pleasant voice from inside.

Gentle voice, beautiful voice, nice female voice that is not harsh and noisy, like fluff brushing the heart, soft, itchy, and warm.

Wang Ping raised his hand, shook the beating of his heart, brushed away the soft fluff, turned and left.

"The moonlight is like running water, quietly pouring on the leaves and flowers. The thin blue mist floats in the lotus pond. The leaves and flowers seem to have been washed in milk; it's like a dream wrapped in a light veil... "

Wang Ping murmured absentmindedly about the dream wrapped in a light veil. He raised his eyes and saw the figure in the middle of the road disappear instantly. One day, hiding behind the teaching building, there was another pair of poor lovers.

Wang Ping has received many love letters, from alumni, classmates, boys, and girls, and he responded seriously to each of them: Sorry, I have someone in my heart.

At first, Wang Ping always thought that everyone was like this, whether it was a boy or a girl, they just liked it, there was no difference.But if I like it, how can I control what I like, whether it is a man or a woman, a cat or a dog, a tree or grass, water or a mountain, isn't it just like it?

Only recently did I realize that other people received love letters from the opposite sex, but I was the only one around me, not only receiving love letters from the opposite sex, but also love letters from the same sex.

This is different from others, and you can't tell it to others. This, must, can only be a secret, hidden in one's heart.Just like the two boys who disappeared behind the teaching building, they would never act carelessly like ordinary couples, walking around the campus holding hands, walking arm in arm in the grove, embracing and kissing in the corner of the rostrum.

Looking at the cultural square from afar, Wang Ping stared at it. A white boy approached the rostrum in a strange manner. Wang Ping walked into the cultural square involuntarily. The boy closed his eyes and was immersed in his own world. Wang Ping looked at it with some disgust. Looking at the boy who was running freely in his mind, the boy turned his face away. On his face without opening his eyes, there was a satisfied and joyful grateful smile, calm and gentle, full of happiness that could come out, filling Wang Ping's heart. Eyes, Wang Ping pushed the bridge of his nose in a habitual way, but he didn't push it to the frame of the mirror, and he also smiled: "What a funny little thing, like a rabbit!"

Seeing the little white rabbit stumble, Wang Ping raised his foot, ran two steps, stopped, and saw a big black man rushing forward, hugging him, and the two of them fell on the rostrum together, Wang Ping frowned. Opening his face, he looked down at his chest, and secretly raised his hand: Fortunately, it wasn't me, it hurts so much to be caught...

The accident happened in an instant, Wang Ping turned and left from the crowd, no longer watching the follow-up, but there was a sentence in his ears: Love is in X University.

Love at x big?Is that what the locals say?Is this the reason for the ghosts and gods, is it God's guidance?

Wang Ping shook his head and disappeared into the passing crowd: Love, even at X University, is not my love.

two

I used to hear people say that the people in Northwest China are simple and only want to talk. Where can they be so simple?No matter how simple they are, they are still human beings, and if they are human beings, they cannot be simple.

However, when Wang Ping was surrounded by girls in the dormitory, he swallowed nervously: "What's wrong?"

"Aren't you from our place?" The girl asked seriously with her eyes wide open.

Wang Ping sniffed, shook his head, thought for a while, and nodded: "No, I'm from another province."

"Are you from Beijing?" The girl walked around Wang Ping three times carefully.

Wang Ping thought over and over again, does the Beijinger mean the people of Beijing or the primitive people?Unable to figure it out, he continued to nod in confusion.

The girl who asked the question clapped her hands, turned around and jumped half a step away in surprise, raised her hand and called out to her friends: "Hey, look, she looks just like us!!"

Hearing this, Wang Ping twitched his cheeks, black lines all over his head: "Humans, aren't they all like this... people of the yellow race..." Hey, this... this is not innocent, it's ignorance...

The girl was a little shy and blushed: "I've never seen a foreigner... I thought Beijingers were like the pictures in history books..."

The girl in the dormitory made Wang Ping feel fresh, and also, embarrassed and helpless