Naming of Night

Volume I.

The first chapter of the night: Sonata.

……

2022, autumn.

The drizzle falls from the gray sky and drizzles on the city streets.

It was autumn, and from time to time we could see pedestrians without umbrellas rushing past with their hands on their heads.

In the narrow military and civilian alley, there was a 17-year-old boy sitting opposite an old man under the awning of the supermarket.

The whole world outside the canopy is dark, and the ground is black by the rain. Only the ground under the canopy still has a dry area, just like the whole world is left with this piece of pure land.

The boy's face was clean, his eyes were clear, and he sat there in his plain school uniform.

In front of them was a shabby wooden chessboard with a red "Fulai Supermarket" sign overhead.

"General," said the young Qingchen and stood up, leaving the old man with sparse hair sitting there.

"I can..." The old man said reluctantly, "It's only 13 steps..."

Young Qingchen looked at each other and said calmly, "Don't struggle."

The chessboard has revealed its murderous potential, which is the last moment of the desperate situation.

The old man threw the chess pieces he held onto the chessboard and abandoned them.

Qingchen walked into the counter of the supermarket next to him as if nobody were there. He took 20 yuan from the change basket under the counter and put it in his pocket.

The old man looked at Qingchen angrily and said, "I have to lose you 20 yuan every day! I just won 20 yuan from Lao Li and Zhang this morning, and now I have lost all of it to you! The fortune teller said that I could live to be 78 years old, and I am only 50 now. If I lose 20 yuan every day, how much will I have to output?"

"But I also teach you to play chess to find them to win back face," Qingchen put the money together and sat back beside the chessboard. He calmly replied, "So you won't lose."

The old man muttered, "But what you taught these two days is useless."

Qingchen glanced at him and said, "Don't say that about yourself."

Old man: "??"

The old man was angry and rearranged the chessboard. Then he said eagerly, "All right, let's resume."

At this moment, Qingchen suddenly bowed his head.

The time that has just passed seems to be replayed from his mind.

When the guns hit, the fierce soldiers in the Chu River and Han Dynasty echoed in my mind.

That's not all.

And the uncle who passed by them when they were playing chess was holding four baked cakes that had just been bought. The baked cakes just came out of the oven, fainted some steam, and stained a layer of white mist in the transparent plastic bag.

The little girl in a white skirt walked by with an umbrella. There were two beautiful butterflies on the vamp of her little leather shoes.

Above the sky, the swaying rain falls in the alley, crystal clear.

At the end of the alley, bus 103 flashed past the narrow entrance of the alley, and a woman in a beige windbreaker ran to the bus stop with an umbrella.

The sound of footsteps, the sound of running water when rainwater flows into the manhole cover beside the road, these noisy sounds seem to make the world especially quiet.

Qingchen has never forgotten all this.

This strange memory is Qingchen's inborn talent, just like he picked up an archive from the river of time and read the picture in the archive magnetic strip.

Qingchen picked up the pieces on the chessboard.

The old man stared at the chessboard intently. The resumption after each game was also a gambling agreement: Qing Chen was responsible for teaching chess, and the old man learned chess after losing money.

This scene is a bit strange. Instead of being modest and shy when facing the elders, the teenager is more like a teacher.

"The red cannon is two to five, the black cannon is eight to five, the red horse is two to three, the black horse is eight to seven..." Qingchen moves the pieces step by step.

The old man didn't blink. It was a normal start, but he couldn't figure out how to get to the sixth step. He clearly ate the horse of the other side, but suddenly fell into a slump.

"The essence of the Thirteen Moves to Abandon Horses lies in the sixth step," Qing Chen said quietly. "I saw the chess you played with that old Li in the Wangcheng Park the day before yesterday. He likes to start straight. You can beat him with the Thirteen Moves to Abandon Horses."

The old man opposite was deep in thought, and then asked in a low voice, "Can you really win him?"

"In a week, you can learn the thirteen moves I taught you to abandon horses, and you can get back your face," Qing Chen said, "After all, he didn't do much."

The old man's face brightened.

But he suddenly asked, "If I can beat him in a week, how long can I beat you in chess?"

Under the canopy, Qingchen thought carefully: "The fortune teller said that you could live to be seventy-eight years old... It's too late."

The old man hesitated and said, "I might live to seventy-nine if you don't say a word... Eh, you should study by yourself last night. Why do you finish school so early today?"

Qingchen thought for a while and replied, "I'm waiting for someone."

"Waiting for someone?" The old man was stunned.

Qingchen got up and looked at the alley outside the canopy, his eyes wandering in the rain curtain of the alley, and did not answer.

The old man said, "You are so good at chess, why don't you take part in the chess game? You said you are short of money, and you have money to win the championship."

Youth Qingchen shook his head: "I just memorized a lot of chess scores in my mind. I'm good at playing with you. I'm really scared when I meet an expert. My way is not here, and playing chess is only temporary."

"Keep it all in mind..." The old man sighed for a while: "I used to think that people made up such things as never forgetting."

The rain stopped slowly.

At this time, the old hair was shocked.

He followed the young man's eyes and happened to see a couple leading a little boy coming outside the alley.

The middle-aged woman wore an exquisite windbreaker and held a cake box with purple and beautiful ribbons on it.

The gray world could not stop the joy of the three. Qingchen turned and left, leaving the old man sitting under the canopy at the entrance of Fulai Supermarket sighing softly.

The middle-aged woman saw Qing Chen's back, and she shouted Qing Chen's name, but Qing Chen also disappeared at the end of the alley without turning back.

The walls on both sides of the alley are very old. After the white walls fell off, they left a mottled red brick pattern.

The person Qingchen wants to wait for comes, but he doesn't want to wait anymore.