He rubbed his tired eyes and decided to get up and go out to find the Feng Shui master and his azalea.
He shuttled in the darkness for a long time. The originally lively dirt alley seemed to fall into a deep sleep without a sound. He felt that the scenes around him kept repeating, but he could never reach the entrance of the alley.His tired brain made it difficult for him to tell where he was for a while. He suddenly remembered that he had a flashlight in his pocket. He reached into his pocket and found that the small flashlight was lying quietly inside.The beam of the flashlight could reach 200 meters away. He walked to the wall and projected the light forward.He followed the straight light and walked about 150 meters away. He saw a slight reflection passing by his eyes at a very fast speed.What was it? Was it the reflection of dust in the air?He closed his eyes and thought carefully."Hurry, let him sleep."
People in the laboratory were originally standing there staring at the boy on the screen, but now they were busy, operating a remote invisible drone to inject a drug that deprived the boy of consciousness, and the boy instantly lost consciousness and fainted on the spot.The image of the brain wave monitoring also slowly fell back and turned into a stable curve."Teacher, is he the person you are looking for?" A man wearing glasses touched his beard and asked in surprise.At this time, the old woman who claimed to be a Feng Shui master stood in front of a group of experimenters and was called "Teacher".Her eyes were still bright and gentle, but her demeanor was completely different from before. The old woman shook her head, "He is not, but maybe he is. This is an agreement between her and me. I don't know if she has told her children, or if she is willing to tell them."
"Teacher," the man seemed helpless about the old woman's vague words, "If he is just keeping the azalea for someone else, is it really necessary to do such a cumbersome experiment? Just the physical simulation just now will cost millions of funds...""Let him go back." The old woman waved her hand."What's the point of doing this?" the man asked puzzledly."Even if it is meaningless, are you going to refuse me?" The old woman smiled.The man moved his lips awkwardly, "Of course not, teacher."***
tWhen he woke up, it was already bright. The pot of bright red azalea was placed next to the bed. I don't know when it was returned by the old woman. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling a little headache.He remembered that he had been trudging through endless alleys in his dream until he saw a mysterious flash of light... Was this really a dream?
He touched his clothes, which were warm and dry, without the slight dampness of the night dew. He reached into his pocket and found the flashlight still lying there quietly.But at this moment, he instantly knew that it was not a dream last night.Because the direction of the flashlight in his pocket was turned, he still clearly remembered the direction of the flashlight before he fell asleep - so last night was a dream designed by humans.T turned the flashlight in his hand and fell into thought."Are you awake, baby?" The old woman's voice came from outside the door."Well, good morning," T smiled, he jumped out of bed, picked up the azalea, and opened the door for the old woman, "I'm sorry that you have no place to sleep at night.""It's okay, look, you've rested, and your complexion is much better." The old woman still had a kind face and bright eyes.She neatly tied up the door curtain to let in the thin morning sunlight.T held the azalea in his arms and looked at it carefully. It looked much more energetic than the withered appearance yesterday, but the dried flowers and leaves could not be revived. He took out some coins and card money from his pocket and put them beside the bed, saying, "I have heard about the price of cell regeneration glue. These are definitely not enough. I will remember your address and send money another day. What do you think?"The old woman's face changed slightly. She realized that every word of the boy in front of her was hinting at some information. This boy was really a terrible boy.She waved her hand and said, "No, I hurt the flower in the first place, and I should be responsible. The weather is good today, and you are lucky today, baby.""Thanks to you, I have to go to work. See you again." T said with a smile."Goodbye." The old woman sent him to the entrance of the alley and watched him take public transportation.The boy held a bright red azalea, and the petals, red as blood, made his pale lips look red.The scenery that passed by quickly flowed in his irises, and all the hustle and bustle of the world was projected into the boy's eyes. Countless information was collected, selected, and stored in his brain... The brain that had undergone high-intensity memory training could allow him to remember a large amount of information quickly and accurately, with a capacity close to that of a medium-sized computing machine.***
t returned to the rented apartment, which was a slum in the 14th district, with a very ironic name called "Xiangrong Lane".The apartment building he lived in was a slender building with 40 floors, and nearly a thousand families were squeezed in it - what did such a life have to do with the word "Xiangrong"?t rented on the fifth floor. When he first saw this dangerous building, he felt that the elevator in the building would not last long. It came true very quickly. In the second year of his renting, the elevator crashed and killed 21 tenants. As a result, the rent of this building dropped to the lowest in this neighborhood.After placing Dujuan on the windowsill, T cooked a handful of dried noodles and added some dehydrated carrots and cabbage. He had very little water at his disposal, and with a shallow pot, he always cooked the food beyond recognition. He always ate like this, as long as there was seasoning powder, he could eat anything.
Nowadays, fresh fruits and vegetables are only enough to supply the upper class. All orchards disappeared two hundred years ago, and there are few farmlands left. The vast fruit and vegetable planting bases have only been recorded in history textbooks. Now all fruits and vegetables are planted in hydroponic nutrient solution, and the yield is very small.In this war-torn era, no one is in the mood to grow vegetables. However, the poor do not need to eat vegetables. Just take a comprehensive nutritional pill every day, and it is not a problem to live to 150 years old - that's what the advertisement says.But T does not take any pills. He would rather lack some so-called nutrition than take the poison produced by these pharmaceutical companies.After eating, t wiped the wound on the back of his neck with disinfectant wipes. A lot of pus and blood stained his collar. He sighed, took off his clothes, sprayed them with cleaning spray, and then waited for them to slowly clean themselves.
After doing all this, he was a little tired. He habitually checked the door and window locks, climbed into bed, rolled up the blanket and fell asleep.Suddenly, he was awakened by the sound of knocking on the window. Anyone who heard the sound of knocking on the window at night would feel a sense of crisis.T touched the iron sheet for self-defense from under the pillow - civilians were prohibited from owning weapons, and even kitchen knives were not allowed to appear in the home. He took this piece of iron from the old furniture in the flea market.He opened the curtain a little and looked out. He was stunned. The iron sheet in his hand fell to the ground with a "clang".