"Oh, this wind is so strong!" When Uncle Zhao is in a good mood, he will take Su Ming'an to ride on his electric donkey to rush to work. He can't help humming a tune that has traveled a long way, and his hoarse voice is torn in the wind, "My enthusiasm! Hey! It's like a fire! It's burning the whole desert——!"
He roared with all his heart, not caring whether the five notes were in place or not, and the tail notes were often blown into pieces by the wind. At first, Su Mingan would bury his face behind his back, shrugging his shoulders slightly and laughing secretly, but later, sometimes he could not help but hum a few words in a very low voice following the absurd tune.
The wind blew into my mouth, and the singing and laughter became blurred, leaving only a simple, brisk feeling brought by speed, speeding on the streets as the sun gradually set. The tattered electric bike carried two figures, one big and one small, and carried discordant songs, like two tiny silhouettes of happiness.
Occasionally, when life was not too tight, Uncle Zhao would wave his hand and say, "Come on, son, let's treat ourselves today and go to a restaurant!" What they called "restaurant" were the row of brightly lit and smoky roadside stalls at the school gate.
The most frequented place is "Xingxing Fried Skewers". In a glass cabinet that has been so smoked that its original color can no longer be seen, skewered pork tenderloin, rice cakes, ham sausage, and chicken fillets are tumbling and floating in the boiling oil pan, sizzling and emitting a fascinating aroma.
The proprietress was a middle-aged woman with a loud voice. She smiled when she saw them: "Oh, Lao Zhao brought his son here? What do you want to eat today?"
Uncle Zhao never said that Su Mingan had no blood relationship with him, and he always told everyone that he was his son.
Uncle Zhao generously ordered more than a dozen skewers, all of which were Su Mingan's favorites. The fried skewers were fished out, drained of oil, and brushed with thick, brightly colored sauces, red hot sauce, brown sweet sauce, sprinkled with cumin powder and chili powder, and placed in disposable paper bowls.
Su Mingan especially likes the star-shaped fried skewers, which have a crispy outer shell and are soft inside. The salty, fragrant and hot taste instantly explodes in his mouth.
The stall next to us sells vegetarian rice noodles for one dollar a bowl, the classic rice noodles sold in front of the elementary school. The soup is watery, with a few bean sprouts and a few lettuce leaves sinking to the bottom of the bowl. The soup is boiling, sprinkled with chopped green onions, and a little bit of chili oil and vinegar.
The two of them often sat on a greasy stool, with a bowl of rice noodles in front of them and a fried skewer in the middle. Uncle Zhao would always pick up the only two or three thin slices of dried tofu or ham in his bowl and put them into Su Mingan's bowl with a chopstick.
Apart from the moments when he was being taken care of, sometimes it was little Su Ming'an who took care of Uncle Zhao.
Times are changing, and most people pay by scanning codes. Sometimes, Su Mingan finds that Uncle Zhao is becoming more and more like an antique, and the smartphone is like a hot potato in his hands.
"This thing...how do you answer the phone? Last time the phone rang, I scratched it for a long time, but it didn't listen?" Uncle Zhao frowned, and the screen in his hand showed no response.
Little Su Mingan moved a small stool and sat next to him, and nimbly clicked on the phone icon with his finger.
"Press here, the green one will connect, the red one will hang up." Little Su Mingan's voice was calm and patient, as if he was teaching an ignorant child.
Uncle Zhao opened his eyes wide, leaned in close, and tried hard to remember the location of the small green square.
"Then...how do we see that...what message the teacher sent in the group?" Uncle Zhao scratched his head and asked again.
Now, Su Mingan is no longer a "parentless" child. Finally, someone can enter the parents' group and receive messages from the teachers.
Su Mingan taught him step by step how to click on the green icon, find the class group, click on it, and read the teacher's notice to him. Uncle Zhao listened very carefully, silently following the steps, like a most devout student.
What makes Uncle Zhao feel even more magical is those short videos, with so many novel things that often make him laugh:
"Wow! What the hell is this? Can a cat dance like this? It's so funny!"
"What is this little butterfly, and what is this fractured eyebrow?"
"Hey, this little life hack is great, I can save some money again!"
This man's face is always filled with curiosity about the new world and his clumsy understanding. The noisy or funny background sounds coming from his mobile phone are like a thin thread that gradually connects him to the young children.
He tried his best to keep up with the growth of little Su Mingan, trying to understand his world and those new names. What is "detective", what is "script killing", what is "editing"...
The world is progressing very quickly. He has slow legs and a slow mind, so he always can't keep up. But he always moves forward step by step for the sake of his children.
He always felt that if he worked harder and gained more experience, he could make more money and give Su Mingan a better life...
In these fragmented daily lives, there are no luxurious parties, no elegant pianos, and no towering concert halls on TV.
There was only the aroma of fried skewers, the steam of rice noodles, the wind in the back seat of an electric car, off-tune singing, and the tiny light reflected from an old cell phone.
Their small home became more and more fulfilling. The dishes on the table were no longer just porridge and side dishes, and they could eat meat more and more often.
Zhao Zhuozhong even wondered if he could replace the clanking old electric bike with a brand new small one so that he wouldn't be laughed at by others when picking up Su Mingan.
At the beginning of a month, Uncle Zhao walked into the house with a few banknotes, rubbed his hands, and said with a smile:
"Walk!"
"I've saved enough money, so I'll take you to buy a new electric car!"
Su Mingan immediately put down his pen and followed him. They had been looking at each other for a long time. There was an electric bike behind a glass. It was orange and yellow, very beautiful. It looked like a sun when it ran. Riding such a bike in the sunset, they could see the sparkling river surface, like fish scales...
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