Innocent memories

The atmosphere was gloomy, 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, ability, eloquence, competence, flattery, and understanding—in short, utterly incapable, utterly worthless! Why? Why had I fallen to this state, looked down upon by my wife, with nowhere to even stand? The sad truth was, after much thought, I realized I really was as useless as my wife said… I walked along 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 a wife who was more nagging than Tang Sanzang, more controlling than America, and more self-righteous than South Koreans.
I wandered aimlessly through the streets, hoping to kill a little more time so that I could face the things I didn't want to face a little later.
A screeching sound of brakes rang out, and at the same time, I felt a tremendous force rushing towards me from the left. I was thrown involuntarily to the right, rolling several times on the ground. A piercing 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 main character, they'll watch with great interest. Even the occasional sighs of surprise are tinged with ulterior motives. 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 smooth, rounded appearance, while her long, wavy hair added a touch of sexiness and charm. Her long, slender legs, encased in crystal stockings, exuded a gentle aura beneath her short skirt. She wore exquisitely crafted, low-heeled black leather shoes, her figure graceful and shapely. She radiated the unique charm of a mature, sophisticated professional woman.
Seeing such a beautiful woman, I felt less pain.
She quickly squatted down beside me and asked, "Are you alright?"
Ah, her voice was so sweet and pleasant. I really 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."
Then she appealed to the onlookers for help.
The beautiful woman's words were powerful, and soon a crowd of busybodies squeezed in and lifted me into the car.
I wanted to say I could walk, but there was no chance. So
I sat in the back of the 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 around, looking at me with concern. I forced a smile in response. Actually, my arm really hurt terribly; it must be broken. But under the beautiful woman's gaze, I couldn't look too pathetic, right?
At the hospital, the registration and everything else were handled by the girl named Xiaoman. It seemed she was this white-collar lady's subordinate
. And the beautiful woman, of course, was 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 real taste of what "voluptuous waves" meant.
Of course, I wasn't intentionally taking advantage; it was entirely due to the situation.
After the X-ray and examination, the good news was that there was no fracture, just a minor abrasion. The doctor looked at me suspiciously through his glasses, saying, "Go home and apply some ointment; it'll be fine in a week."
I involuntarily turned to look at the white-collar lady; she glanced at me too and said to the doctor, "Doctor, he was just grazed by a car; he fell badly. Shouldn't we observe him?" The
doctor picked up a pen and started writing a prescription: "No need. The X-ray shows the bones are fine. Just go home and rest for a few days. Come back if you have any problems. Name?"
He looked up and asked me. Since the doctor said so, I should be thankful I was alright. I said in a relaxed tone, "Hua Liang." The
white-collar lady suddenly stared at me with wide eyes. I was a little surprised. She said 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 opened my mouth wide
. 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 girl from back then, skinny and sallow like a monkey, with her hair tied up like a braid, would become the sexy and mature beauty she is today.
As the saying goes, a girl changes drastically
at eighteen, and that's certainly true. After learning that I was Hua Liang, her former classmate, Dong Wenjing became exceptionally excited. Without thinking twice, 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 behavior, eventually changing it to a fifteen-minute massage, supposedly to improve blood circulation, reduce pain, and speed up recovery
. But what kind of imported doctor was that? It was a massage that cost ten yuan a minute! One hundred and fifty yuan just flew away like that! Why didn't she just give me the money directly? I'd rather not have a massage, 55555.
It seems Dong Wenjing has struck it rich now, looks very wealthy, otherwise she wouldn't be able to afford a BMW.
But clearly, this kind of enthusiastic behavior is not common for her, because even that young lady, Xiaoman, looked at her with surprise.
After the massage, I felt much more refreshed. Although the process was a bit unbearable, the final result was very comfortable.
At this time, Dong Wenjing pretended to look at her watch and said it was noon and time to eat. She then took me to the famous Oriental Restaurant in the city. While I was still dizzy from the dazzling decorations, she had already ordered a lot of strange and unusual dishes and then smiled at me.
Uh, right, Xiaoman was waiting in the car outside. I now guessed that Xiaoman was her maid. We
ate and chatted. She
was the one doing most of the talking, and I was the listener, occasionally chiming in. We reminisced about our childhood, how funny each classmate was, how close we were to each other, how Mr. Yuwen had a habit of drawing out the sounds when reading aloud, and how our math teacher would often add the phrase "Do you understand?" after explaining a passage.
Thinking back, those little things, good or bad, no matter how insignificant, now seem so interesting and vibrant when we reminisce. It's truly fascinating. 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 a person have in their lifetime? Since time is so long, it's not surprising that Dong Wenjing has undergone such a dramatic change. I gradually regained my composure and faced this "female classmate" who was now "completely unrecognizable." After
dinner
, Dong Wenjing offered to take 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 just said it wasn't too much trouble, 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, but I wasn't greeted with a pleasant expression. My wife started nagging, and I quickly explained that I'd been scratched by a car on the way, had gone to the hospital, and was fine
. Then, as expected, 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 because 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 this an "encounter" is
probably right, because it's something many men dream of, haha.
From then on, Dong Wenjing and I gradually started contacting each other, and I learned a lot about her now. She's probably the boss of some company now, quite wealthy, I guess. What
kind of business she does, I didn't ask her or tell her. She talked very little about her work.
This is also where her thoughtfulness shines through. After all, I can say I'm currently a complete failure, and if she were to talk at length about her career, it would easily be perceived as boasting, or even if not, it would make me feel secretly inferior.
Of course, someone as thick-skinned as me wouldn't feel inferior, but I could still appreciate her good intentions.
We often sit in the beverage shops and snack bars on both sides of the commercial street on weekend afternoons, choosing a table by the window, watching the bustling street outside, the various people coming and going, and chatting casually.
Being with Dong Wenjing, I felt a long-lost sense of ease and comfort, without the previous oppression, without the shame of being worthless, only memories of the past, casual discussions, and lighthearted laughter.

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Innocent memories

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