Nomenclature of Night - Chapter 2 Countdown

　　 The middle-aged woman walked quickly to the entrance of Fulai Supermarket. She looked at the old man: "Uncle Zhang, why Qingchen came to you to play chess again."

　　 Both sides also know each other in words.

　　 It’s just that Uncle Zhang’s tone is not so polite: "Your own son, you ask me? He has no living expenses, so he can only make a little money for himself by playing chess."

　　The middle-aged woman Zhang Wanfang was taken aback for a moment: "But I have to pay for his father Qingchen every month."

　　 Uncle Zhang was also taken aback by these words: "Then I don't know what's going on."

　　 Uncle Zhang thought, Zhang Wanfang was not a poor man, and it seemed that the living expenses for Qing Chen were not small, but why did the young man still live so tightly?

　　 Qingchen is not like a prodigal son, every day he spends his days on a budget, and never takes a sip of any drinks.

　　 "But isn't he supposed to study by himself last night at this time?" Zhang Wanfang asked.

　　Uncle Zhang just remembered at this time: "He seems to say that he is waiting for someone."

　　 "No, I have to go home and take a look," Zhang Wanfang said.

As she said, she was about to walk away quickly with the cake, but she heard the man beside her suddenly say: "Wanfang, Haohao has a place for today’s birthday. We have already booked a spot. After eating, we have to take him to the movies. !"

　　 Zhang Wanfang turned around to look at the man: "Qing Chen may have skipped class, I don't care if I ask."

"He is seventeen years old and can take care of himself. Besides, there is also his father," the man said slowly, "Actually, it is okay to wait for the weekend to see him again. Today we will accompany Haohao. ?"

　　 Zhang Wanfang frowned when she heard this, but after a few seconds, she finally sighed: "Okay, let's accompany Haohao for his birthday today."

　　...

　　 In the tree-lined path of the Xi Family Courtyard of the City Hall, Qing Chen silently walked under the camphor trees.

　　 is different from the high-rise buildings in modern cities. The courtyard is full of four-story low-rise buildings from the 1970s. There is no elevator, no gas, and sewers are blocked from time to time.

　　 High-power electrical appliances cannot be used at home because they will trip.

　　 Qingchen walked into the dim doorway, ignored the psoriasis-like opening and selling advertisements on the wall, and took out the key to open the door on the first floor.

　　 A 76-square-meter house with two bedrooms and one living room. The room on the first floor is not well lit.

　　 He took out his phone and opened the address book, and then dialed out: "Hey, Dad..."

　　 The voice on the other side of the phone has interrupted him: "Go to your mother for living expenses. I have no money. She has a lot of money now."

While 　　 was talking, the sound of mahjong was heard on the other side of the phone.

　　 "I don't want money," Qing Chen said in a low voice, "I haven't asked you for money for a long time."

　　 "What is that for?" The man said impatiently: "Going to school for a parent meeting again? Go to your mother, this kind of thing..."

　　 Before the other party finished speaking, Qing Chen took the initiative to hang up this time.

　　 He gently leaned against the closed door, and then lifted the sleeves under his school uniform jacket.

　　 He stared blankly at the white numbers and symbols on his forearm that looked like an LCD screen: the countdown was 5:58:13.

　　 The white number is like a fluorescent tattoo embedded in his flesh and skin. No matter how he rubs it, there is no way to erase it.

　　Looking at them carefully, Qing Chen also saw special and fine lines in the numbers, like mechanical parts interlocking with each other, full of a sense of future technology.

　　 The numbers are changing silently.

　　 Countdown to 5:58:12.

　　 Countdown to 5:58:11.

　　 There are 5 hours, 58 minutes and 11 seconds left. All this seems to remind Qing Chen that after 5 hours and 58 minutes, something incredible will happen.

　　 There was obviously no sound, but Qing Chen clearly heard the beating of the second hand in his heart.

　　 Qingchen glanced at the phone that hung up, then glanced at the empty room.

　　 He doesn't know what kind of life he will welcome in 5 hours and 58 minutes. He only knows that he can only rely on himself.

　　...

　　Time is a very heavy unit of measurement. The length of life and the breadth of civilization are all used to mark it.

　　The concept of time exists in everyone's life.

　　 So when there is any countdown in your life, no matter what it counts down, it will give you some sense of urgency.

　　 There are still 5 hours, no one knows what the end of the countdown is.

　　 may be dangerous?

　　 may be another life?

　　 Qingchen can't be sure, he can only plan for the worst first.

　　 So he must prepare something before the countdown is over.

　　 If there is a real danger, then he must at least allow himself to be within his ability and have some ability to resist danger.

　　 Qingchen put on a clean gray coat and covered her appearance with the shadow of her hood.

　　 Taking advantage of the night.

　　 He went out and walked towards the farmers market. The October sky in Los Angeles was already dark very early.

　　 There was the sound of cooking in the residential building, the crackling sound of the vegetable and the oil after the collision, and then there was an alluring smell floating out.

　　 The flavours of eggs, pork, and lamb flooded into Qing Chen's mind like pieces of information. When he needs this information one day, he can extract a certain "archive" from his mind.

　　 He bought pliers and a shovel at a hardware store, a bag of rice and a bag of noodles, and salt at a grain and oil store.

　　 He also bought several boxes of antibiotics in the drugstore, and bought batteries, flashlights, and compressed biscuits in the supermarket.

　　 When he didn't know what he was going to face, he could only prepare as much as possible.

　　 These things, UU reading www. uukanshu.com almost spent all of Qing Chen's savings.

　　 Qingchen took the things home and went into the kitchen. He first put all the available knives on the chopping board in the most convenient place in the house.

　　 The kitchen knife is placed under the pillow, and the deboning knife is placed on the bedside table.

　　 countdown 2 hours, 43 minutes and 11 seconds.

　　 He confirmed that the doors and windows were closed tightly, so he sat on the side of the bed and began to ponder: Do you want to find a helper?

　　 Who are you looking for?

　　 My mother has a new family, and my father is a gambler.

　　 In fact, when Qing Chen noticed a countdown on his arm a few hours ago, when he was only 17 years old, he subconsciously wanted to seek help from his parents.

　　 But he denied this idea again.

　　 Qingchen took out his mobile phone and tried to take a photo of the white countdown on his arm, only to find that the white lines that were clearly visible to the naked eye did not appear on the phone screen.

　　 There are no lights in the dimly lit room, and the windows are not soundproof. Because it is on the first floor, he can often hear the footsteps of pedestrians passing by outside.

　　 The sound of footsteps outside, the sound of breathing in the house, and the faintly bright mobile phone screen, everything is so quiet and weird.

　　 This kind of weird and outrageous thing, I am afraid it is useless to ask ordinary people for help, and I don’t have any particularly good friends at school.

　　 Even if there is, ordinary people shouldn't be involved in this kind of thing, right?

　　 Therefore, if you find a helper, you can only think of other ways.

　　 Wait, Qing Chen seemed to have thought of something, and got up and went into the living room to search.

　　 Two minutes later, he silently looked at the Guanyin Bodhisattva pendant in his hand.

　　 Then he put it in front of him seriously and bowed nine times.

　　 The last preparation is done.