How did Xiao Ming die?

Come out from the big killer, I go downstairs and go home.

Along the way, I was very calm.

To tell the truth, I became quiet, even I was afraid.

Open the door, my mother is changing shoes at the door.

She noticed me and asked, "When did you go out?"

I leaned against the door and watched her quietly.

She didn't care much about my answer, she said she wouldn't come back for lunch, and she was going to meet the editor today, so she went out.

After watching her go out, I walked back to my room.

It takes seven steps to walk from the door of my house to my bedroom. When I reached the sixth step, I squatted down.

Stomach pain.

I squatted, and suddenly felt a sense of relief.

Toki, is it really you?

In my previous statement, someone should see a paradox.

I said I was looking for someone, but I said he was dead.

I said I hadn't seen him, but then I said I might have.

The whole thing needs to be re-zoomed on the timeline.

What I learned from An Yile today was actually in my expectation.

Someone faked the baby's death, tricked my family and other medical staff present, and then quietly swapped the dead baby.

No one mentioned this child again, and I have been growing up as the only child in the family.

Until I was seven years old, I found my baby diary by chance, and since then, I knew his existence for the first time.

At first, the seven-year-old me had no concept of the existence of Shiliang, and I didn't even know what twins meant.

All I know is that I had a brother who died at birth.

In fact, I have nothing to be sad about, and I hadn't seen him back then.But I dare not mention it to my parents, because I am afraid they will be sad.

You see, this is a blood logic.Well, in theory, I'm still a little stumped.

The turn of events stemmed from an incident I experienced when I was eight years old.

This incident was later published in the newspapers. For the protection of the parties concerned, no one knew that the protagonist of the incident was me.

Ten years ago, our family traveled to Egypt.

Gift of the Nile, Egypt.

I was led by my father and shuttled between the stone sculptures and the temple.

Luxor, an ancient city located on the banks of the Nile, bred an ancient civilization that I could not understand at that time.

The people around stopped and went, and some people stood still, with a pilgrimage on their faces.

Some people run away, calling for friends and companions.

There were also people spinning around, busy taking pictures.

An aunt in front of me stopped. She held up a heavy-looking SLR and pressed the shutter on the stone sculpture in front of her.

Click.

I don't know if the big guy in her hand has recorded that moment well, at least my brain has recorded it.

Headshot, blood splattered.

The crowd began to riot, screaming and panicking.

I stared at the aunt who fell to the ground, her camera was thrown on the ground and slid all the way to my feet.

I wanted to touch the camera, but my dad quickly picked it up.

After that, I heard a few more gunshots, and a few blood flowers exploded in my sight.

I felt my body shake, my father seemed to be knocked down by someone, and I rolled off his shoulders.

The field of vision suddenly dimmed, and I could only see people's legs, and a cage was woven around me, a cage that would collapse at any time.I struggled to get up and was rushed far away by the crowd.

I didn't even have the strength to yell that daddy.

When I fell out of this web of people, I found that I had no idea where I was.

When I was eight years old, I got lost and was in a foreign land.

A long time later, when I retrieved the events of that day on the Internet, I only used four plain words to explain everything—terrorist attack.

But I didn't understand at that time. What I was most afraid of was that I might not be able to find my mother.

The sky had already darkened, the statues beside me were covered with dark gold, and the sky was glowing red, just like what I saw in the book.

Passing by rows of statues, I finally stopped at one place.

It was a ruin, and there was a child my age sitting there.

He leaned against the pillar behind him, and the oncoming sunset shone on his face.The shadow of the eaves fell on him, and I thought it was a statue too.

In fact, he was as quiet as a statue.Even though I walked up to him, he didn't respond.

I may have just cried and my vision is still blurry.When I approached and looked up at him sitting on the ruins, I realized that this child had the same face as mine.

His skin was tanned and glowed darkly in the setting sun.Unlike me, he had a pigtail tied back on his head, and a pair of rough linen military trousers tucked into a pair of small military boots.On the other hand, he was wearing a waistcoat with Egyptian national characteristics, and a triangular scarf with a blue pattern around his neck.

"Hello..." I said.

He leaned his head on the stone pillar behind him, facing the setting sun.He suddenly narrowed his eyes when he heard me speak.It seemed that I disturbed his tranquility.

Seeing that he didn't respond, I could only find a pillar and sit down resentfully.I walked for a long time and was very tired.

As the sun gradually sank, my desire to find my mother became more urgent.

"That... what's your name?"

"..."

"My name is Shi Ming."

He may think that I am too annoying, and finally has an answer that is not an answer.

"...I don't have a name."

"How about calling you Shiliang? Do you like it?"

He remained silent, I guess he didn't want to tell me his name because he didn't want to continue this conversation.

But no, after a while, he suddenly asked me, "Why Shiliang?"

"That's my brother's name."

"..."

I stood up, "You look a lot like me!"

"picture?"

"Correct!"

I found out later that he had no idea what he looked like.

He jumped down from the ruins and left on his own.I had no one to rely on, so I followed him relentlessly.

He was going to the market on the other side of the bank, and I followed him into the boat.

We were swinging in the middle of the river, Luxor was divided into two halves by the Nile, one bank is life, the other bank is death.

The tumult on both sides of the river spoke to me of this long civilization, and I could not understand the murmur then.

He was sitting on the bow of the boat, holding a dagger carved with engravings in his hand.

"Just over there, someone shot and killed many people..." I told him.

He ignored me and sat there peacefully.

"I'm lost..." I said again.

He looked at the river bank, twirling the dagger deftly in his hand.

After getting off the boat, I followed him to the market.At the end of the market, he found a corner and stopped.

He looked back at me, pulled a piece of bread from his pocket and threw it to me.

I was shocked because I followed him all the way and didn't notice that he stole anything.

I was a little stupid at the time, and I actually said a little angrily, "It's wrong for you to steal!"

He was not angry at all, and even pulled the corners of his mouth and smiled.Feel like mocking me.

Oh, I thought at the time that this child has learned to mock others at such a young age, which is very annoying.

He squatted on the ground with bread in his mouth, and muttered, "Currency trading is an invention of human society. I don't belong to the category of society, let alone civilization."

In today's words, my heart was lying in the trough.

I forgot what I said at the time, but I must have meant to express shit.

Probably, shit, I didn't understand.

He didn't intend to let me understand it, it felt like it was just a second stroke.

In fact, there was very little communication between us.When I talk to him, there are generally three situations.

First, he ignored me.The second type is to say something that is incomprehensible like just now.The third type is that he will suddenly complete two sentences in a foreign language.

Personally, his language system is still very confusing.After all, he has been wandering around the world since he was only eight years old, and he has pretended so many foreign languages ​​that he doesn't know which language he speaks.

For example, after eating bread, we went back to the market.There are colorful lamp decorations on the side of the market, which are very exotic and interesting, so I looked around.

He walked past me, not intending to wait for me.I ran up and grabbed him.

I said, look here is a bronze mirror!

I leaned against him, trying to squeeze both of us into this mirror.Seeing our extremely similar faces, he froze for a moment imperceptibly.

He said that he hadn't had a chance to look in the mirror for a long time, and he kind of forgot what he looked like.

At that time, I was full of emotions, and sighed, what a miserable life you have lived.

He seemed to explain it to me, but unfortunately he didn't know which Mandarin he was speaking.

I pretended to understand, and listened to him kicking and dragging through a long list.

Along the way, I followed him.Looking at this young man who was about the same age as me and had a similar face, a sense of strangeness and familiarity inexplicably rose in my heart.

Familiar because we are similar, unfamiliar because he seems to have a very different childhood from mine.The kind of childhood I can't imagine, and we are still so similar.

I feel that he is still very cheerful, and he would twitch the corners of his mouth when passers-by stumbled comically.After spending several hours with me, he is no longer silent to me.

He said, "Are you going home?"

"Yes." I even said, "You can come home with me too."

"Why?" he asked quietly, "Because we look alike?"

I said, "You are still so young, where are your parents?"

He twirled the short knife around his fingertips, thought about it seriously, and found that there was no answer for me.

According to my memory, he led me to an alley, "Do you have any impression? Do your parents live here?"

"Probably..." I nodded.

I walked into the alley.

He was standing at the entrance of the alley.

"You..." He stopped me.

I stopped and looked back at him.

He said, "When you go back, tell your parents to get out of here quickly, it's not very safe these days."

I nodded and looked at him reluctantly.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise above the head, and dust fell down.

I felt someone rushing over and grabbed my wrist, and my legs started to run along with it.

He pulled me and ran into the alley, falling gravel and rubble behind him.

This alley is extremely narrow, with old buildings six or seven stories high on both sides.

The situation was too urgent at that time, and he didn't have time to pull me to turn and run out of the alley, so he could only run along the alley, and then he found that he had nowhere to go.

If he didn't pull me, I guess he could have rushed forward and climbed over the low wall in front of him to escape.

But he didn't, he grabbed me, and an inertia threw me to the front.

I just felt my vision go dark, and then my nostrils were filled with dust.

I feel like I'm suffocating, fear creeping into my chest.

"You?! How are you! Hey!" I called him, and I knew he was lying on top of me.

A stream of heat flowed down my neck to the ground, moistening the entire side of my face.That's not my blood.

I struggled to get up and crawled out from the cracks in the gravel.

Then I froze.

I didn't care if tears blurred my eyes, I just remembered that under the ruins, there was a body as weak as mine.

The same child, but he protected me unscathed!

I pulled him out of it, and two big rocks set up a triangle above us, which ensured that the two of us were not photographed into meatloaf.

But there were still a few big rocks hitting Shiliang's back, and when I pulled him out, he had already started to vomit blood profusely.

I helped him press his abdomen, trying to ease his pain.

He vomited almost out of oxygen, his upper body was limp in my arms, his mouth was open, like a never-ending jug, letting a big mouthful of blood flow out.

This scene once caused me to lose control when I saw blood for a long time.And this scene was also staged on the day I went to the teaching building to nostalgia-General Wang vomited blood in my arms, which brought back my already silent memory ten years ago.

Looking at Shiliang in my arms, I began to feel hopeless. I told him over and over again that you should not be afraid, and that when your parents arrive, you will be taken to the hospital.

He couldn't hear me and his eyes started to straighten.

I thought he might be dying.

I used the name Shiliang to call him over and over again, but he just stared straight at the sky, blood dripping from his mouth.

The memory of that day came to an abrupt end here.

When I look back, I just remember the doctor bandaging the scrape on my arm.I asked them, what about the kid with me?

They said there was no such child as I spoke of.

I took them and told them over and over again in Chinese they couldn't understand, there is another child who looks exactly like me, and he was seriously injured by the smash!

But they all thought I was terrified.

For a long time after that, I would have that dream.

As the sun was setting, on top of the ruins, I said, "That... what's your name?"

"..."

"My name is Shi Ming."

"...I don't have a name."

"How about calling you Shiliang? Do you like it?"

There is a kind of blood logic telling me that the child is Shiliang, and he is not stillborn.

I think he may have died in that accident, but I still hope to hear from him again one day.

It's a pity that I'm just an ordinary high school student, and I can't do anything about Shiliang.

Last year, I took that B-ultrasound photo to a hospital and found out that it was indeed a pair of twins.

I remember crying that day.And today, I don't want to cry.

I squatted on the ground and buried my head in my knees.

Toki, Shiliang.

Could it really be you?

The author has something to say:

It's me: Hey, there is no salary for this chapter...

Liangliang: you are dead

It's me: Uncle policeman, there's a dead man talking here!

Bright: ==.