Dark was the first word he learned.
The moment the cellar door closed, ten-year-old Qin Wu swallowed back his scream and dug his nails into his palms, drawing blood. From then on the silence grew in my bones.
Later there was another person outside the door.
With a bowl of noodles, a comic book, and the words "Brother, I'm here", Ji Nanhuai squatted for forty-seven days, waiting for a "hmm" written in pencil. That word was put into his dictionary and stayed there for twenty years.
Later, one became a drug police officer and the other became an undercover agent.
Lost contact for five years. When they met again, one was covered in blood and the other was holding a gun.
The moment the gunshot sounded——
Someone fell. Someone has gone home.
It took him ten years to learn not to speak.
It took him twenty years to learn to reach out.
Fortunately, the man outside the door never left.
Intention: A house destroyed, a cellar, a pair of torn palms. It took him ten years to learn to swallow all the pain, swallow it into silence, and swallow it into unchangeable grammar in his bones and blood. Until there was a man squatting outside the door for forty-seven days, just waiting for a word.
He doesn't push, doesn't force, and doesn't ask for anything in return. His coming is all.
The fog in this world will never dissipate, but if someone is waiting in the fog with a lamp, it is not too dark.
It took him ten years to learn to hide his injuries.
He learned to reach out and use it longer.
But fortunately there are people who can afford to wait.