Innocent memories

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 15:39:06

The sky was overcast, and I walked aimlessly down the main road.

I'd been yelled at again! I felt I couldn't stay in that house any longer. In my self-righteous
, all-powerful wife's eyes, I was useless, incompetent, lacking in looks and
ability, unable to speak properly, incapable of handling affairs, unable to flatter, and incapable of understanding—in short, utterly
useless I was just a pile of dog shit! Why? Why had I fallen to this state,
looked down upon by my wife, with nowhere to even stay? The sad thing was, after thinking it over and over, I realized I really
was as useless as my wife said… I walked down the road, my initial anger gradually turning into inexplicable
sorrow and despondency. I knew that no matter what I thought, in the end, I would still have to return home like a dog with its tail between its legs
, facing that wife who was more nagging than Tang Sanzang, more controlling than America,
and more .

I wandered aimlessly down the street, hoping to kill a little more time so I could postpone facing
what I didn't want to face.

A screech of brakes rang out, and I felt a tremendous force lurch towards me from the left. I
was thrown involuntarily to the right, rolling several times on the ground. A sharp pain shot through my arm, and I couldn't help but
groan.

I knew I'd been in a car accident. My dazed head prevented me from noticing the traffic lights.

Passersby gathered around. That's how Chinese people are; they love to join in the fun, especially
when something bad has happened. As long as they're not the ones in the middle, they'll watch with great interest. Even the occasional sigh of sympathy felt
utterly .

Suddenly, my eyes lit up—I saw her.

She wore a well-fitting women's suit, looking sharp and capable. Her oval face gave her a delicate, rounded
appearance, while her long, wavy hair added a touch of sexiness and charm. Her long, slender legs,
encased in crystal stockings, exuded a warm and graceful aura. She wore exquisitely crafted, low-heeled black leather shoes.
Her entire being radiated the unique charm of a mature, sophisticated professional.

Seeing such a beautiful woman, I felt less pain.

She quickly knelt down beside me and asked, "Are you alright?"

Ah, her voice was so sweet and pleasant. I wished she could say more, but then
a beautiful young woman of about seventeen or eighteen appeared behind her and said, "Sister Wen, don't worry, let's take him to the hospital." She

then appealed to the onlookers for help. A beautiful woman's

words carried weight; soon, some well-meaning people squeezed through the crowd and lifted me into the car.

I wanted to say I could walk, but I had no chance.

So I got into the back of that white BMW. The white-collar lady sat in the passenger seat and
said to the young girl, "Quick, Xiaoman, to the nearest hospital!"

On the way, she kept turning back to look at me with concern, and I forced a smile in response
. Actually, my arm really hurt terribly; it must be broken. But under the gaze of a beautiful woman, I couldn't
look too pathetic, right?

At the hospital, of course, the girl named Xiaoman handled the registration and such; she seemed to be this white-
collar lady's subordinate.

And the beautiful woman, of course, stayed by my side.

The doctor glanced at me and told me to get an X-ray. This white-collar lady personally helped me to the radiology room,
my arm nestled in her ample bosom, giving me a good taste of what "voluptuous" meant.

Of course, I wasn't intentionally taking advantage of her; it was entirely due to the situation.

After the X-ray and examination, I received good news: there was no fracture, just a minor abrasion. The doctor looked at me suspiciously
through his glasses, saying, "Go home and apply some ointment; he'll be fine in a week.
"

I involuntarily turned to glance at the white-collar woman. She glanced at me too and said to the doctor, "
Doctor, he was just hit by a car and fell quite badly. Should we observe him?"

The doctor picked up his pen and started writing a prescription: "No need. The X-ray shows the bones are fine. He just needs to rest for a few days. Come back
if there are any problems. Name?"

He looked up and asked me. Since the doctor said so, I should be thankful I was unharmed. I
said in a relaxed tone, "Hua Liang."

The white-collar woman suddenly stared at me with wide eyes. I was a little surprised. She exclaimed in surprise, "You're Hua
Liang?"

I nodded. She said, "I'm Dong Wenjing. Don't you remember me? We were classmates in elementary school
!"

Ah, I gaped in astonishment.

Even two hours later, after leaving the hospital and sitting at a window table in the Oriental Hotel, with the food served,
I still stared dumbfounded at the smiling white-collar woman opposite me.

I simply couldn't imagine that the
unremarkable , would become the sexy and mature beauty she is today.

The old saying, "A girl changes drastically at eighteen," is truly accurate.

After learning that I was Hua Liang, her former classmate, Dong Wenjing became exceptionally excited.
Without a , she insisted that I be hospitalized for observation, talking about preventing concussion and aftereffects, which
terrified me. Fortunately, the doctor had some medical ethics and refused this reckless approach, eventually changing it to
a fifteen- massage, supposedly to improve blood circulation, reduce pain, and speed up recovery.

But what kind of imported doctor was she? A massage costing ten yuan per minute! One hundred and fifty yuan just
flew away like that! Why didn't she just give me the money directly? I really don't want a massage, 55555.

It seems Dong Wenjing has struck it rich now, looks quite wealthy, otherwise she would

n't be able to afford a BMW. But this kind of enthusiastic behavior is clearly unusual for her, because even that young lady, Xiaoman,
looked at her with surprise.

After the massage, I indeed felt much more refreshed, although the process was... well, a bit unbearable
, but the final result was very comfortable.

At this point, Dong Wenjing pretended to look at her watch and said it was lunchtime, time to eat, and then dragged me to the famous Oriental Restaurant
in the city . While I was still dizzy from the glittering decorations, she had already
ordered a whole bunch of strange and unusual dishes, and then smiled broadly at me.

Oh, right, Xiaoman is waiting in the car outside. I'm guessing she's their maid now.

We ate and chatted.

She did most of the talking, and I listened, occasionally chiming in. We reminisced about our childhood
, how funny each classmate was, who was best friends with whom, how Mr. Yuwen had a habit of drawing out the sounds when reading aloud, and how our math teacher would always add the phrase "Did you understand?"
after explaining a passage . Thinking about it now, those little things, good or bad, no matter how insignificant, seem so interesting and vibrant when recalled. Dong Wenjing and I were classmates from elementary school until junior high, when we separated after I went to another city for the high school entrance exam . It's been a full ten years since we last saw each other. How many decades does one have in a lifetime? Given the passage of time, it wasn't surprising that Dong Wenjing had undergone such a dramatic change. I gradually regained my composure and faced this "classmate" who was now "completely unrecognizable." After dinner, Dong Wenjing offered to drive me home, but I refused. Having already lost everything, if my wife were to accuse me of "bringing a woman home," it would be unforgivable. Of course, I couldn't say that reason; I simply said it wasn't too much trouble, as it wasn't far. Dong Wenjing seemed a little unhappy with my refusal, though she could tell I was making excuses—my communication skills aren't great—but she quickly forgave me, left her her phone number, said she'd contact me later, and drove off . I returned home with a sweet smile, only to be greeted with a less than welcoming expression. My wife started nagging , and I quickly explained that I'd been hit by a car on the way, had gone to the hospital, and was fine. Then, unsurprisingly, my wife said, "What can this idiot who can't even walk do?" I let her say what she wanted, but I wasn't bothered as usual. I was happy about today's "encounter"—or rather, I guess you could call it that. Dong Wenjing is now a stunning beauty, perfectly fitting the standards of a man's dream girl. So calling "encounter" is fair, because it's something many men dream of, haha. From then on, Dong Wenjing and I gradually started to keep in touch, and I learned a lot about her now. She's probably the owner of some company now, quite wealthy, I suppose. I didn't ask her what kind of business she runs , nor did I tell her. She rarely talked about her work. This is part of her understanding nature; after all, I can say I'm a complete failure right now. If she talked about her career at length, it would easily be seen as showing off, or even if it wasn't, it would make people feel secretly inferior. Of course, someone as thick-skinned as me wouldn't feel inferior, but I could still appreciate her good intentions . On weekend afternoons, we would often sit in the beverage shops and snack bars lining the commercial street, choosing a table by the window, watching the bustling street and the diverse people passing by, while chatting casually. Being with Dong Wenjing, I felt a long-lost sense of ease and comfort; there was no longer the oppression of the past, no longer the shame of feeling worthless, only memories of the past, casual discussions, and lighthearted laughter.

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