My first reaction was actually a sniper rifle. So subconsciously, he leaned towards the door.
After two seconds, I realized what kind of thoughts had just flashed through my head. I couldn't help laughing out loud, and then I looked up again, and the red light that was somehow reflected by the rain had long since disappeared.
The sniper rifle is gone. The danger is gone too. The illusion I constructed in seconds knocked me back in an instant, forcing me to rout years ago.
right. I find it funny myself. Red light is red light, how could it be a sniper gun?
If someone laughed at me like this five or six years ago, I would have told him seriously, it was probably an assassination you didn't know about, there must be a sight aimed at you in the dark, and you Recognizable like a kangaroo roaming the road. The last sentence was learned from Marlowe.
I also keep an eye out for vehicles passing me on the road. Whether it's a bicycle, motorcycle, or car, it's possible to stick an arm out of it, hold a smoking gun in your hand, and the bullets in it are already on your way, or pull you directly into the car. Inside. And I'm ready to dodge sideways, or gracefully roll forward to avoid this catastrophe.
The danger of a close call played out diligently every day in my imagination. It's a pity that in real life, that little girl in junior high school is too small and well-behaved, and no one tries to hurt her. Sometimes, the autumn night is a little cool, the leaves can't stop falling, as if it will never be swept away, and the buildings opposite are sparsely lit with a few lights. She hunched over her black and large schoolbag, and jumped down step by step while holding onto the wooden handrails of the corridor, to go to the teacher's house for class. But when the wind blew on his face, the smell of fire and candlelight in Wu Yusen's world filled his body. Then she finally couldn't take it anymore, the explosions of gunshots, tears, blood and silent smiles flooded her mind. She pursed her mouth and stepped on the fallen leaves. In her mind, it might be that some dead person was pulling the corners of the blood oozing mouth, melting slowly like a lonely snowflake, or it might be that one person grabbed the gun from another person's hand and said hurry up. I don't even remember if I left. The wind was cold, the feet were icy, and the schoolbag was heavy. However, I am afraid that I will never feel that happy lightness again in my life.
She hadn't read any poems at that time, but she wrote some poems in a serious manner, saying that she wanted to write them for her heroes. Her first lame poem was given to Huang Jiaju. Later, she was immersed in the sadness of Xiaozhuang's death, and wrote in a colorful diary that others did not understand why she was so sad for the people in the movie. Then why she likes Xiaozhuang so much, she herself doesn't understand. She had to write: I am willing to be the harmonica in Xiaozhuang's hands to witness their friendship.
She wants to learn the harmonica, just like she wants to learn the guitar for Huang Jiaju, for "Blood Two Heroes". She learned to sing "Light Drunk Life" in Cantonese. It happened that my mother knew a little harmonica. My mother told her that in their youth of the last century, the harmonica was a very popular object, and many people would play a song. She thought that they would be like Xiao Zhuang, leaning against the window and blowing it to the person from the end of the world who aroused her thoughts. The more she thought about it, the more sad she became, and she begged her mother to blow it to her. Mom finally found the harmonica at home that was already dejected. After playing it a few times, she vomited and vomited. It turned out that it was old and the tuning was not accurate. Later, her mother took her to buy a new harmonica, with a touch of green in the middle, and she was so excited. But in the end, she didn't learn it. Neither she nor her mother knew music scores. Over time, they lost interest. But she still likes to listen to the harmonica, like old Russian music, inherently sad. As soon as she heard the slight vibrato, she always felt that the person was leaning against the window again, and the beloved was not far away, but he couldn't go back.
She believed that the harmonica was in the youth of that generation. Later, she heard the sound of the harmonica in many old movies of the golden age of Hong Kong. There is always a person who can't get love, and there is a harmonica whispering alone beside her.
In fact, at that time, she did not understand. She also didn't understand who Xiaozhuang played this harmonica for. She didn't care either. Before parting, Xiao Zhuang left a kiss on Jenny's forehead with force, and there was a despairing ferocity between her brows.
Of course she doesn't understand. She was full of heroes and salvation, friendship and justice.
She probably would have never imagined that six years later, when she watched Bloody Blood for the eleventh time, Xiao Zhuang clearly could have escaped, but she was willing to become a turtle in a urn for Jenny's words. She only said one sentence, and she didn't lie to me.
The voice fell, the protagonist was fine, and she was defeated first.
In fact, I have always misunderstood the two heroes. It was because Xiao Zhuang fell in love with Jenny that led the male hormone battle. After that, there are so many worries and weaknesses, so that I can meet my confidant. The first harmonica sound was for Jenny.
And I'm not old yet, but I'm starting to get old. Thinking of the little girl who nodded her head in her teens, living in the fantasy of bullets all day, she was really like a puppy who wanted to be a big lion, pitifully stupid.
I really owe a lot to my mom at the time and the people around me who were willing to listen to my chants of heroism. Thank them for enduring my childishness endlessly. So, tonight, I was fascinated by the fusion of the thunder and lightning outside the window and the gunfight in the window, and when my immortal Xiaozhuang resolutely walked towards his fate, a group of boys shouted bored because of the power outage, and they took the lights to the building. Girls passing by. I also endured them.
But if I were a boy today, I wouldn't do it, even if the whole world was yelling for nothing. In my heart I have Xiao Zhuang and his harmonica, Jenny, Li Ying, Zeng Ye and Fourth Brother.
I wish there was someone who could play a harmonica in the dark, just as Emma pinned her last hope on her former lover at the moment of bankruptcy. And they pushed her away mercilessly, and in the darkness outside the bedroom only a few hasty shouts ended.
You taught me how not to miss the past, or even the youth of the previous generation that did not belong to me at all. In that era of the perfect fusion of romanticism and heroism, John Woo created many fairy tales about heroes but no one doubted or made fun of them. Because everyone wants to believe in romance.
Today, meaninglessness replaces romance. Madame Bovary is bound to die, and I'm even making fun of John Woo's innocent line. This era belongs to Jiang Wen and Quentin, and they are lively and banter. In fact, I shouldn't say that about Jiang Wen. He really gave the audience a gift, but few people paid for it.
In any case, I will definitely watch "Peace Wheel". Because John Woo was my boyhood hero, and revisiting it tonight, I'm sure he will remain my hero.
Xiaozhuang, please continue to play the harmonica for everyone.
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