As usual at night, the crowds of people on the street gradually dispersed, and storefront merchants pulled down their iron rolling doors one after another. Occasionally, cars pass by on the deserted road. Among them are people who come home late from work, and there are also scum who are racing.
The vendors in the alleys also closed their stalls one by one, except for the signboard of the stinky tofu stall in the corner. The proprietress Yue'e was about forty years old.
In today's world of beauty and skin care products, Yue'e looks much older than women of the same age. She wears gloves and holds an iron clamp, and occasionally flips the stinky tofu that has been cold and fried on the iron rack. .
Somehow, business is less than half a year ago.
Although it is less, the mother and son are allowed to do business for two more hours every night, just to increase their income as much as possible.
Yue'e's son Aguan was leaning against the wall, playing with his fingers, looking up at the half-broken lamp not far away, and at the moths dancing around the half-yellow light.
Aguan has just graduated from a high vocational school. He works in a convenience store during the day and goes to the streets with his mother to sell stinky tofu at night.
Guanji Stinky Tofu used to be famous in his small town. Many years ago, Grandpa Aguan rode a tricycle. On the back of the car was a frying pan for frying stinky tofu, a can of perfectly blended garlic soy sauce, and a small bucket of delicious food. Pickles are sold on the street at ten o'clock every night, and they have made a name for themselves day after day.
When Aguan was six years old, his grandfather died. As a child, Aguan cried for a month.
Aguan's father inherited a small stinky tofu stall. The three-wheeled cart was replaced by a small covered car. The business hours were changed from ten o'clock every night to morning to night. The hawking schedule also expanded further, and the business But it has decreased. The income is not much, but it is barely enough to maintain a family of two adults and one child.
One night two years ago, Aguan's father was hawking stinky tofu when he encountered a group of gangsters looking for trouble.
The gangsters first wanted to eat stinky tofu for free, and then they wanted to collect protection fees. Aguan's father refused to obey, so the gangsters turned to robbing.
Aguan only remembered that night two years ago, when it was windy and rainy, and he received a call from the police station in a daze.
After regaining consciousness, I was standing somewhere in the hospital with my mother, looking at my father who was covered with a white cloth.
His father held a tattered empty money bag tightly in his hand. Aguan remembered that it was his mother's birthday two days later. He understood why his father was beaten to death by gangsters for the mere few hundred dollars in the money bag.
In the days that followed, my mother started selling stinky tofu. She couldn’t drive, so she had to buy a second-hand tricycle.
He hawks for more than eleven hours every day in this lively and indifferent city in order to earn the living expenses that the mother and son can barely make ends meet.
After my father died, the business plummeted. Everyone thought the stinky tofu tasted bad and the kimchi was no longer tasty.
Only old customers will support you.
Aguan looked at his watch. It was past twelve o'clock. Business was so bad today.
After deducting the costs, the income was almost equal to no profit. When he saw his mother looking at the street corner in a daze, he was about to suggest that he might as well go home.
Three or four young men walked up to the alley. They looked like bastards at first glance. One of them, a long-haired bastard with curly hair, clapped his hands and shouted, "Hey, they sell stinky tofu over there!"
All the bastards were pushing and jostling to the Guanji stall.
The long-haired curly guy glanced at Aguan, gnashed his teeth, and said, "Mrs. Boss, we want to eat stinky tofu!"
Another dark-skinned guy with a crew cut started yelling: "How do you sell stinky tofu?"
Before Aguan could speak, Yue'e put on a smile and rushed to answer: "It's fifteen yuan a portion of stinky tofu. How many portions do you want?"
The long-haired, curly Zazai pinched his nose and spat out a mouthful of phlegm; the dark-skinned, flat-headed Zazai walked up to Yue'e, raised his shoulder and bumped into Aguan.
"What? Fifteen yuan a portion!" The dark-skinned crew-cut guy frowned.
"Yes." Yue'e smiled and nodded.
"Is it so expensive?"
"It's too expensive, it's too expensive!"
"The economy is in recession!" All the bastards suddenly started cheering together.
Yue'e laughed and said, "No, we are running a small business. We can't make much money a day, and life is difficult."
"Mrs. Boss, you're lying! I often see you doing business around here, how come you can't make a lot of money?" The long-haired curly guy dug his teeth and screamed.
Aguan on the side was silent, turning over the stinky tofu in the pot without looking at the offal in front of him. He thought of last night's nightmare.
The dream repeated the scene of the night when my father died, starting with my father stopping his little fortune car in a dark alley, putting the stinky tofu in the pot, and then the gangsters surrounded him, arguing, fighting, and dying. The process is clear and real.
This nightmare was repeated every night for several months after my father's death, like a 24-hour replay of the TV news, played over and over again.
As time goes by, the number of nightmares gradually decreases, from once every two or three days to once a week, then two weeks, one month, and three months.
It had been about half a year since Aguan woke up in fear one morning because of this nightmare.
But somehow, in the past week, the same nightmares have suddenly become more intensive again. The content of the dreams is still the same, and it is still as clear and real.
"Damn! Boss lady, did you do this on purpose?" The long-haired curly Zazai shouted, bringing Aguan back to reality from his thoughts.
The long-haired, curly bastard was holding the stinky tofu that Yue'e had packed for them in one hand, and fanning his mouth exaggeratedly with the other hand, shouting "spicy" repeatedly. "Who taught you to use it so spicy?"
Yue'e said aggrievedly: "Huh? It was you who said it should be more spicy."
The long-haired and curly bastard shouted: "Then there's no need to add so much! What if it hurts my throat? Boss lady, what do you say? Oh, my voice is hoarse, cough cough! cough cough!" He covered it while covering his throat. Holding his throat, he bent slightly and shouted. "I need to see a doctor and go to the emergency room."
"Medical expenses!" The dark-skinned crew-cut bastards on the side shouted, "Mrs. Boss, our eldest brother has a great singing voice. What should we do now? At least we should pay some of our medical expenses!"
Yue'e saw the long-haired curly bastard coughing and laughing at the same time. The other minions were also making noises and eating the stinky tofu she handed them. Knowing that they were intent on causing trouble, she said with a grimace: "Ah, why are you like this? I've treated you to food for free, but now it's a bad time. We, mother and son, are running a small business, so why don't you make such a fuss? Otherwise, I'll also treat you to stinky tofu in the future, okay?"
"No!" The long-haired curly Zazai yelled, punched the sign hanging on the stall, and pointed at Yue'e's forehead fiercely. "I tell you"
"Bang!" Something flew over and hit the long-haired curly Zazai in the face, causing him to bend over in pain.
Everyone saw that the thing fell to the ground and made a crisp sound. It turned out to be an iron tong used to hold stinky tofu.
"Damn it!" The long-haired curly Zazai was hurt by the hot oil splashing on the iron clamp. He was about to explode when he saw that the pale boy who was standing aside blankly had already jumped in front of him.
Aguan gritted his teeth and threw the long-haired curly Zazai to the ground. He screamed, his mind went blank, and he kept throwing punches, punching the long-haired curly Zazai's cheeks, nose and mouth. superior.
The gangsters were all stunned for a moment, and it wasn't until the long-haired and curly gangster let out a burst of wails that they made any move. They all rushed forward, pulled Aguan up, and beat him even more ferociously.
"You are so bold!"
"You dare to take action?"
"Hit our boss?"
"Uh-oh," the long-haired curly bastard yelled and jumped up, covering his face and wiping the nosebleed on his face. His front teeth were loose and wobbly, the corners of his eyes were swollen, and his nose was crooked to one side and bleeding continuously. He yelled angrily: "Kill him! Let him die!"
Aguan fell to the ground holding his head, curling up into a ball, his head still blank. He felt all kinds of heavy blows falling on him from all directions, some were toes, heels, fists, even sticks, and nearby streets. Garbage and bricks on
The offenders were like a group of crazy monkeys. Some started to pick up anything that could be used as a weapon and smashed the stinky tofu stall.
"Stop fighting!" Yue'e threw herself on Aguan, waving her arms to try to block those heavy blows for Aguan.
She knelt down and hugged the long-haired curly Zazai's feet, crying and begging for mercy: "Please! Please let my son go! Stop beating him! You beat him to death! I will pay you for your money." !”
She was wailing and crying, taking out some banknotes and change from the inner pocket of her apron and trying to stuff them into the hands of the long-haired curly bastard.
A little bastard rushed up and said, "Stop fighting! The police are coming!"
The long-haired curly bastard grabbed the money Yue'e took out and waved to the other gangsters: "Go, let's go! The police are here, let's go!" The gangsters rode on the will-o'-the-wisp and dispersed.
"Son, son," Yue'e knelt in front of Aguan and shook the motionless Aguan vigorously. She looked at her son, whose head and face were covered with blood, and cried in horror.
"Help! Help!" In the quiet alley, her cry sounded particularly sharp and harsh. "What kind of world is this? Why do you bully our mother and son like this?"
"Oh my God"
"Oh my God"
