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Xin Wan had a dream that night and dreamed of Song Heng.

It is difficult to say what kind of dream it is.After taking the medicine on time, he hasn't had a nightmare for a long time. Most of them are black and sweet overnight. Even other dreams are fragmented, but this time the dream is complete and familiar.

is what is on the disc.

Song Heng.

Song Heng.

Xin Wan never pronounced his name, but she called it very frequently in her dream.He called that in his dream, muttering softly and tenderly, hugging his sweaty waist, as if living and dying with him in low-temperature melt.After waking up from the dream, Xin Wan could still remember the feeling in the dream.

The corners of the eyes are wet, and so are the pants.

Why is the surname Song?Xin Wan thought about this question and guessed that it was probably her mother's surname.

Woke up late, didn't have time to wash his underwear, so he had to take a quick shower, his hair was still half wet, he was almost late, Fang Yichuan saw his distressed look, and asked, "What did you do last night?"

Xin Wan felt guilty: "I didn't do anything."

"You have dark circles," Fang Yichuan said "tsk", "don't stay up late playing games."

"..."

The head teacher came over. She was five or six months pregnant, her belly was like a blown balloon, and she had to walk with her hands on her lower back, but her momentum did not diminish, and her voice was very bright: "Don't talk behind, listen to the class carefully!"

After school, Xin Wan said goodbye to Fang Yichuan, and went to a small roadside shop by herself, and bought a small plastic basin for [-] yuan.There were few varieties of goods there, only red and green were left. Xin Wan had no choice but to carry a small green basin, which attracted a lot of attention along the way. Xin Wan blushed, as if her secret was exposed in full view.

It was winter, and the water flowing out was very cold. Xin Wan soaked her underwear in the water, and it was terribly cold, and she had to grin her teeth and shake her hands after washing for a while.

Sometimes Xin Wan finds it very strange, because he has no signs of changing his voice or growing taller during puberty.This is the first wet dream in his memory, is it the same for others?Would you dream of being with your cousin?

This question is unsolvable for him.

Song Heng didn't notice that the disc had moved, maybe he hadn't seen it for a long time.When Xin Wan stole the disc for the second time, she knew there would be a second, third, and countless times.He watched the video as if he was exploring a secret. The golden sunshine, poplar trees, street lamps, and iced milk tea made him feel like he was in Song Heng's youth.

At the beginning of November, Xin Wan dreamed of Song Heng again, a similar scene.

He knew that he was imitating, he was like a thief, stealing other people's joy, and in the end he had to play one of them, this kind of clumsy feeling made Xin Wan feel outraged, but also enjoyed it contradictoryly.

He was inconvenient to ask Fang Yichuan because of the accumulation of depression, so he had to go to Shen You.Bearing the shame, the words begin: "I have a friend who is almost 15 years old..."

Shen You responded meaningfully and with empathy: "Oh."

"Some things happened to him recently," Xin Wan bit her lip, "he often dreams about someone."

Shen You nodded, his eyes were focused, and he didn't show any more playful eyes: "Well, what then?"

"He felt like he shouldn't be dreaming about him, but he couldn't help it, so it was annoying."

"Oh...he didn't know what to do, so you came to ask me?"

Xin Wan nodded.

Shen You showed a suddenly realized expression, and he habitually turned his pen, "Then let's start with a few other questions first. When dreaming, is there any contrast between the person he dreams of and the real image?"

Xin Wan said, "Yes."

"Does your friend feel happy, or mostly in pain?"

Xin Wan clenched her fingertips and said, "...Happy."

"Then subconsciously, your friend hopes that the person he dreams of is like that," Shen You said slowly, enough time for Xin Wan to chew and digest, "If he doesn't dream of him in the future, will he feel relaxed or regretful?"

Xin Wan's tangled fingers paused.

"You don't need to tell me the answer, just know it in your heart." Shen You rubbed his hair with a smile, "Sometimes 'overwhelmed' doesn't mean it's wrong, it shouldn't happen, if you can't control it , just let it go first, don't rush to worry, many things will be solved automatically when the time comes, trust me."

When will it be resolved automatically?

Xin Wan didn't find the answer for the time being, so she could only avoid him first, but felt that Song Heng possessed a magnet and was attracting him closer.Fortunately, Song Heng is also very busy recently, and they rarely meet each other, mostly just having dinner together.

A major event happened during this period—for Xin Wan.

The head teacher of the class has changed.

The reason was maternity leave. The class teacher's stomach became more and more heavy, and his life became heavier. Even sitting on the bench was very difficult, and even rolling up books and knocking on the table was tiring.

When Xin Wan saw her belly in class, she would always think of his mother—a very hazy shadow. He hadn't seen her many times. He only remembered that she used to come back when he was in primary school, and asked him to study hard, and then stuffed it to him. Grandma has a lot of money, so she went to catch the next day's train overnight.

So the position of the head teacher actually fell to the non-main subject teacher. When the old art man walked in with a smile, the whole class applauded and watched the excitement.

"I believe you have been in school for almost a semester, and you probably haven't remembered the name of the art teacher." The old man squeezed a piece of white chalk, and his writing fluttered like drawing, "Chu, He, Fei. The teachers in the office all call me Lao." Chu—”

As soon as the voice fell, someone shouted: "Old Chu!"

"But you have to call me 'Teacher Chu'." The old man smiled and threw a piece of chalk down, "It's not big or small."

The only advantage of being an art teacher as a head teacher is that the art class does not have to worry about being taken up by other classes.This can be regarded as their first serious art class. When old man Chu came to his side, Xin Wan was lying on the table and sketching casually, when her head suddenly felt heavy.

He rubbed Xin Wan's hair, bent down, "It's a good painting."

Xin Wan looked at him in surprise, it was not transparent to the teacher's eyes for the first time, which made him feel at a loss again.

"The composition and shadows are very good," Old Man Chu pulled up a chair and sat beside him, "Did you learn it?"

Xin Wan replied honestly: "It seems to be."

Old man Chu laughed: "You're quite an interesting kid."

In the remaining half of the class, old man Chu taught him with his hand, erasing the wrong composition and replacing it with a new layout.His hands were rough and had many calluses, but it gave Xin Wan a long-lost feeling of being an elder.

After school, old man Chu even gave him a thick copy of "Philosophy of Art", saying that you might like it.

"When will it snow?" Fang Yichuan looked up at the dark sky, "The first snow this year should be coming soon."

The book was very heavy, Xin Wan turned a few pages, saw "Hamlet", closed it again with difficulty, and said, "I hope it will be soon."

—I hope it will snow soon.

——I hope to pour water on him quickly to wake him up.

Walking to the school gate, saying "goodbye" in the usual way, Xin Wan was just about to walk to the bus stop when she suddenly saw a familiar figure from the corner of her eye.As if in a daze, he ran over with the heavy "Philosophy of Art" in his arms.

It's Song Heng.

He stood under the tree, and the orange-red rays penetrated through the branches and leaves, forming large and small spots, which fell on the scarlet smoke tip, and then fell on his lips. He waved to Xin Wan, in a good mood, and said, "Come on."

"Ah?" Before Xin Wan could react, she glanced left and right, "Brother, where is your car?"

"The car is not driving. Shuyueli is overhauling the circuit, and the power is out. Go out to eat tonight."

Xin Wan said dryly, "Oh, okay."

The "Philosophy of Art" was in his arms.

There was a smell of tobacco around, but it was not heavy, and most of the wind took it away. This smell made Xin Wan feel at ease. He looked at Song Heng from time to time, and quickly turned his eyes away, feeling that his breathing was not smooth, just like in a dream. a feeling of.

Xin Wan didn't know how to face Song Heng who was out of her dream.

"Brother, our class has changed head teachers today."

"Ok?"

"He's an art teacher." Xin Wan felt that the topic was under his control, and he seemed to be able to handle it with ease. "A very interesting old man, he said that I draw very well, and he gave me a book."

At the intersection of traffic lights, the car stopped, and Song Heng said, "Is this a book?"

He took the book away from Xin Wan's arms, and Xin Wan clasped his hands suddenly, watching him open the book, Giotto's fresco "Mourning for Christ".Song Heng was not very interested. He flipped through a few pages and said, "It's heavy." He didn't return it to him, but carried it by himself, "Let's take you to get your hair cut first."

Before Xin Wan could react, Song Heng suddenly reached out and brushed the hair from his ear to the back of his ear, and his fingertips touched the hot tip of the ear and the thin fluff.

"The hair has grown," she withdrew her hand again, "it covers the ears."

This action is exactly the same as in the dream, brushing away the wet hair on the sideburns, so that it is convenient to kiss the ears, go raving, and tell some secrets that only the moon and lover can hear.Obviously it was a very casual action, but it set off a shocking wave like a butterfly effect.

Amidst the smell of tobacco and the mottled street lamps, Xin Wan shuddered slightly, her eyelashes trembled, her blood flowed quickly, she felt hot, and wanted to explode and escape.

He wants to call Shen You and tell him that not everything can be resolved automatically.

Like him.

There was no cure for him.

The author says:

Tomorrow is a day off