Chapter 549 Between Stopping and Not Being Able to Stop

No, maybe it has something to do with me.

Hong Ling has to cut her nails once or twice a day recently. She has a set of rules when cutting her nails. She must cut her left hand first and then cut each finger six times. Sometimes, if there is nothing to cut, she still has to cut six times (don't ask why, Hong Ling can't explain the reason clearly. She seems to know vaguely, but it doesn't help). So the nails on all ten fingers are cut sixty times in total.

If Hong Ling thinks about other things in the middle, her brain crosses channels, and she doesn't know what she thinks about that has nothing to do with cutting nails, then the nails have to be cut again.

In this way, from the beginning of paying attention to cutting nails to now, a total of fifteen days, Hong Ling has spent more and more time on cutting nails. Sometimes she has to cut her nails three or four times a day, and at most she cuts her nails five times a day.

Cutting nails is not a new thing for Hong Ling. She feels that she is already very tired. I don't know when someone seemed to tell her, "You can fight against this unreasonable request from yourself." No... Hong Ling shook her head. She couldn't do it.

"Aren't you tired?" Hong Ling asked herself.

She was so tired.

But no, she couldn't change it.

Now that she had cut her nails, she needed to fold the tissue paper. The folding method of the tissue paper was complicated, but each step was meaningful and represented something different, like some mysterious and ancient ritual, a greater power from beyond the gods.

Hong Ling felt that power, so Hong Ling had to do it.

[If not...]

——

The folding of the tissue paper must start from the right corner close to your body, pinch the right corner of the tissue paper and overlap it diagonally; the second step, pinch the left corner to the right to fold another triangle; the third step is to pinch both ends of the long side of the triangle at the same time, walk to the trash can, and release both hands at the same time.

Just this morning, a gust of wind blew in from the window, and the tissue paper was blown away when it fell, and the nails fell everywhere.

Hong Ling went crazy at that time, desperate and terrified in his heart, and his knees on both sides suddenly felt sore as if they were soaked in vinegar. After nearly half a minute of weakness, he was filled with tension all over his body.

This tension was not extremely strong, but it was like wrapping Hong Ling from head to toe with plastic wrap. She stood there in a daze, knowing what was waiting for her next.

Since everything was messed up.

Then pick it up!

At this moment, there was a knock on the door.

Hong Ling was completely panicked, sweat on her forehead, and her upper body began to tremble with an intensity that others could not see.

"Lingling, eat." Mom pushed the door open weakly and said.

"Oh, right away."

After answering, Hong Ling immediately knelt on the ground and picked up the nails one by one. However, the nails were originally very small, and there was nothing to pick up, but she had to pick them up until they were completely clean.

Five minutes, ten minutes, twenty minutes passed.

Hong Ling heard her mother sighing outside, and the sound pierced Hong Ling's heart, but she couldn't go out immediately.

No, this won't work.

Sixty nail fragments should be picked up... No, there should be less than sixty, and some are still in the paper towel and fell into the trash can with them.

How many are there...

This is a question that mathematicians may not be able to figure out, and it may not be true in itself.

Hong Ling wanted to figure out how much he had picked up, and how much he should have picked up...

This matter was not over yet, and a new idea came up!

The wind just blew, and all the nails flew out. Wouldn't it blow the dirt in the nails everywhere?

No, pick it up again, and make sure to pick it up cleanly.

With the fingertips touching the floor, Hong Ling picked up all the white dots or anything that could be stuck with fingers.

While picking up, the brain still did not stop to rest. Just when he was about to pick up all the things that looked like nails or nail-related things on the floor around the trash can, Hong Ling thought of another thing.

No, no, those things are so light, they may not all fall to the ground, and the wind just now was so strong, it is possible that these things were blown onto the bookshelf and stuck to the side panels of the bookshelf.

There was no hesitation, it was too late, it had been a long time since her mother called her to eat for the first time... It must have been a long time.

Hong Ling really felt that she was in a state of panic, but it was not her body that was in a state of panic, but her mind. Her body was actually stiff, her movements were very small, and she was nervous and dared not move.

The bookshelf was white, and it was impossible to check it. Hong Ling could only take a tissue and wipe the bottom of the bookshelf seventy times, where she thought the nail-like substances might float.

She didn't know why it was seventy times, and this number just suddenly jumped into Hong Ling's mind.

After wiping the bookshelf, Hong Ling sat on the ground and felt a little relaxed.

But she relaxed for only three seconds, and a new thought appeared in her mind.

My clothes...

The wind just now must have blown some dirt onto my clothes.

So, Hong Ling lowered her head to check her clothes.

She was wearing a yellow sweater, knitted with thick yarn, and it was fluffy and easy to get stained. So, Hong Ling immediately judged that the clothes must be covered with dirt. If these things were brought to the living room, the family would encounter bad things.

If she passed by the living room, the lint from her sweater and the dirt from her fingernails would float to the dining table, and her parents would eat the food on the dining table.

Then you get sick.

Thinking of this, Hong Ling was so frightened that he immediately stood up, slowly took off his sweater, opened the window, held the sweater in his hands and put it outside the window to shake it for a few times. He was about to take it in, but it still felt wrong.

I shook a few times just now...

No, only seventy strokes will do.

When she reached thirty-five, Hong Ling sneezed, so she counted again.

When she counted to forty-three, Hong Ling felt her head itch. She endured the itch and continued counting, forty-four, forty-five, forty-six...

I speeded up the count all the way to fifty-one. At this time, a new thought came out. No, no, I was too fast just now. The seventy numbers must be counted at the same speed, otherwise it will be counted in vain and everything will be lost. Useful, useless.

In front of the window sill is Hong Ling's desk. It was not easy to reach through the desk to shake clothes outside the window sill. Hong Ling's back couldn't support it for too long. Now her legs are about to cramp and her hands are almost out of strength.

But the more times like this, the more Hong Ling dared not stop, and the more difficulties she encountered, the more she dared not ignore them. She followed the instructions from whom she didn't know where she came from, telling herself, "No, come again..."

Time and time again, her chest felt extremely tight, as if a huge sack was covering her heart. She wanted to take a big breath but seemed to have forgotten how to take a big breath.