White Matter

[Signed for physical publication, see wb@inch for progress] *Rural background, no fantasy elements such as metaphysics and supernatural beings. Zhang Chaowang is a drummer, but he plays funeral drums. The word "bad luck" accompanied him throughout his life. He had heard these two words so many times that Zhang Chaowang's ears almost felt numb. He doesn't think he is an unlucky person. It's just a funeral drum, what's the point? Believe it or not, but he is in this business after all, and he still has some "superstitions" of his own. For example, a drumstick cannot hit a living head. The function of the drumstick is to beat the drum, use the drumbeats to communicate yin and yang, and complete the final communication with the deceased. Therefore, you must not use this kind of drumstick to hit a living person on the head. It would be really bad luck if you did this kind of thing. — Later, the master left him. Tan Yeyun also left. Tan Yeyun was only twenty-five years old at that time. For countless days and nights, Zhang Chaowang would huddle on that brown bed and tap his head with a drumstick. One time. Another click. Now Zhang Chaowang has changed his mind. He just hopes that bad luck will come soon. The drumstick fell on his head again, Zhang Chaowang thought, bad luck, why don't you come to the door yet. Intention: to continue living