"Lao Wang" by Yang Jiang
I often ride in Lao Wang's three-wheeler. He pedaled, I sat, and we chatted along the way.
According to Lao Wang himself: After the liberation of Beijing, all those who boarded the tricycle were organized; at that time, he was "slow-minded" and "didn't get around". He was "a step too late" and "couldn't get in." ”. He lamented that he was "old and useless." Lao Wang often has the fear of being lost in the community because he is a single owner. What he relied on for survival was an old tricycle; one of his brothers died, he had two "promising" nephews, and he had no other relatives.
Lao Wang is not only old, he only has one eye, and the other is a "snail eye", which makes him blind. Passengers do not want to ride in his car for fear that he will not see clearly and hit something. Some people say that this old bachelor was probably dishonest when he was young and suffered from some serious disease and lost one eye. His good eye was also sick and he couldn't see when it was dark. Once, he hit an electric pole and half of his face was swollen and bruised. We were in the cadre school at that time, and my daughter said that he had night blindness, so she gave him a large bottle of cod liver oil and he could see at night. He may have been blind due to malnutrition since he was a child, or he may have contracted a bad disease. Anyway, they are both misfortunes, but the latter is probably a deeper misfortune.
One evening, my husband and I were taking a walk and passing through a remote alley. We saw a dilapidated compound with several dilapidated huts inside; Lao Wang was boarding his three-wheeler. Go to the compound. Later, when I was chatting with Lao Wang in his car, I asked him if that was his home. He said he had lived there for many years.
One summer, Lao Wang delivered ice to the family downstairs, and he was willing to bring it to our house for half the fare. Of course we don't want him to halve the fee. Every morning, Lao Wang carried the ice up to the third floor and put it in the refrigerator for us. The ice he sent was twice as big as his predecessor's, and the price was the same. Most of us who board Sanlun at the entrance of the alley are familiar with each other, and Lao Wang is the most honest among them. He never figured out that we were pushy customers, and it probably didn't occur to him at all.
At the beginning of the "Cultural Revolution", Mocun somehow lost one of his legs. I asked for leave on his behalf and asked Lao Wang to send him to the hospital. I didn't dare to take a three-wheeler myself, so I squeezed into the bus and waited at the entrance of the hospital. Lao Wang helped me help Mo Cun out of the car, but he refused to take the money. He said, "I give Mr. Qian money to see a doctor for free." I insisted on giving money, and he quietly asked me in a hoarse voice, "Do you still have money?" I laughed and said I did, but he took the money but it was not big. rest assured.
When we came back from the cadre school, all three passenger vehicles were banned. Lao Wang had to change his three-wheeler into a flatbed three-wheeler for transporting goods. He didn't have the strength to transport any goods. Fortunately, there was an old gentleman who was willing to downgrade himself to "cargo" and let Lao Wang transport it. Lao Wang happily installed a half-inch-high edge around the three-wheeled flatbed. It seems that with this half-inch edge, the passengers will be surrounded and will not fall off. I asked Lao Wang if he could make a living with this customer. He said he could make do. But some time later, Lao Wang fell ill. He didn’t know what the disease was, and he spent money on some medicine, but he still didn’t feel better. In the first few months, he could come to my home for medical treatment, but later on he had to ask Lao Li, who was in the same hospital as him, to pass the news on his behalf.
One day, I heard a knock on the door at home. When I opened the door, I saw Lao Wang stiffly embedded in the door frame. Usually he comes into my house sitting on the tricycle seat, or slumped with ice in his arms, and he doesn't look so tall. Maybe he's not so thin or stiff usually. His face was ashen, and both eyes were covered with clouds. It was impossible to tell which one was blind and which one was not. To put it more ridiculously, he looks like he was poured out of a coffin, just like a zombie in my imagination. The skeleton is covered with a layer of dry, yellow skin, and when hit with a stick, it will fall apart into a pile of white bones. I said in surprise: "Ah, Lao Wang, are you feeling better?"
He said "hmm", walked straight in, and stretched out his hands to me. He was holding a bottle in one hand and a package in the other.
I'm busy picking it up. There is sesame oil in the bottle and eggs in the package. I can't remember whether there were ten or twenty, because there were too many to count in my memory. I can’t remember what he said. Anyway, the meaning is very clear. He gave it to us.
I forced a smile and said: "Old Wang, are you giving us such fresh big eggs to eat?"
He just said: "I won't eat them."
< p>I thanked him for the good sesame oil and the big eggs, and then turned around and went into the house. He quickly stopped me and said: "I'm not asking for money."I also quickly explained: "I know, I know - but since you came by yourself, you don't have to ask someone to take you with you."< /p>
Maybe he thought my words were reasonable and stood waiting for me.
I folded the gray or blue checkered rag that wrapped his eggs and returned it to him. He held the cloth in one hand and the money in the other, and turned around awkwardly. I hurriedly opened the door for him and stood at the top of the stairs, watching him walk straight down the stairs step by step. I was worried that he would fall halfway down the stairs. When I couldn't hear the footsteps anymore, I went back to the house and felt sorry for not asking him to sit down and have a sip of tea. But I was confused with fear. It seemed that my stiff body could not sit up, and if I bent it even slightly, it would fall into a pile of bones. I can't imagine how he got home.
More than ten days later, I met Lao Li from the same hospital as Lao Wang. I asked "What happened to Lao Wang? Are you feeling better?"
"He was buried long ago."
"Ah, when did he..."
"What? When did he die? The day after he arrived at your place."
He also told how many feet of brand new white cloth was wrapped around Lao Wang's body - because Lao Wang was a Muslim and he was buried in a ditch. I didn’t understand either, so I didn’t ask any more questions.
I went home and looked at the unused bottle of sesame oil and the uneaten eggs. I recalled the exchanges between Lao Wang and me over and over again, wondering if he knew that I accepted his gratitude. I think he knows. But I don’t know why, every time I think of Lao Wang, I always feel uneasy. Because I ate his sesame oil and eggs? Because he came to express my gratitude, but I used money to insult him? None of them. A few years later, I gradually understood: It was a lucky person's regret for an unfortunate person.
Zhu Ziqing is "Back View"
It has been more than two years since I last saw my father, and what I cannot forget most is his back view.
That winter, my grandmother died and my father’s errand was handed over. It was a day when misfortune never comes singly. I went from Beijing to Xuzhou and planned to go home with my father for the funeral. When I went to Xuzhou to see my father, I saw the mess in the courtyard and thought of my grandmother again, and I couldn't help but shed tears. My father said, "It's what happened, so there's no need to be sad. Fortunately, there's always a way out!"
I went home and sold off the mortgage, and my father repaid the shortfall; he also borrowed money to pay for the funeral. These days, the family situation is very bleak, partly due to the funeral and partly because of the father's unemployment. After the funeral, my father was going to Nanjing to find a job, and I was going back to Beijing to study, so we went together.
When I arrived in Nanjing, a friend asked me to go sightseeing and stayed for a day. On the second day in the morning, I had to cross the river to Pukou and get on the train in the afternoon to go north. Because my father was busy with work, he had decided not to see me off and asked a familiar waiter from the hotel to accompany me. He repeatedly asked the waiter to be very careful. But he finally felt uneasy, fearing that the waiter might be inappropriate; he hesitated for a while. In fact, I was already twenty years old at that time and had already been to Beijing two or three times, so it wasn't that important anymore. He hesitated for a while and finally decided to send me there himself. I tried to persuade him two or three times not to go; he just said: "It doesn't matter, it's not good for them to go!"
We crossed the river and entered the station. I bought the ticket and he was busy taking care of the luggage. There was too much luggage, so I had to tip the porter to get through. He was busy negotiating the price with them again. I was really too smart at that time, and I always felt that what he said was not very nice, so I had to interrupt myself. But he finally agreed on the price and sent me to the car. He picked me a chair by the car door; I spread the purple fur coat he made for me on the seat. He asked me to be careful on the road and to be alert at night so as not to catch cold. He also asked the waiter to take good care of me. I secretly laughed at his tortuousness; they only recognized money, and it was nothing to support them! And for someone as old as me, can’t I still take care of myself? Well, now that I think about it, I was so smart back then!
I said: "Dad, let's go." He looked outside the car and said, "I'm going to buy some oranges. You stay here, don't move around." I looked at the platform over there. There are several sellers waiting for customers outside the fence. When you get to the platform over there, you have to cross the railway, jump down and climb up again. My father is a fat man, so it would be more troublesome to walk there. I was going to go, but he refused, so I had to let him go. I saw him wearing a black cloth cap, a large black cloth mandarin jacket, and a dark blue cloth cotton robe. He staggered to the side of the railway and slowly leaned down. It was not a disaster. But it was not easy for him to cross the railway and climb to the platform over there. He clung to it with both hands and retracted his feet upwards; his fat body leaned slightly to the left, showing an effort. At this time I saw his back, and my tears flowed down quickly. I quickly wiped away my tears. Afraid that he would see it, and also afraid that others would see it. When I looked outside again, he had already hugged the scarlet orange and walked back. When crossing the railway, he first scattered the oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly, then picked up the oranges and walked away. When I got here, I quickly went to help him. He walked with me to the car and put a bunch of oranges on my fur coat.
So I puffed away the dirt on my clothes, feeling very relaxed. After a while he said: "I'm leaving. I'll write you a letter over there!" I watched him go out. He walked a few steps, turned around, saw me, and said, "Go in, there's no one inside." When his back blended in with the people coming and going, and he couldn't be found anymore, I came in and sat down, and my tears came again. .
In recent years, my father and I have been traveling here and there, and the situation at home has deteriorated day by day. He went out to make a living as a young man, supported himself independently, and did many great things. Who knew Laojing was so decadent! He was so sad that he couldn't help himself. When he is depressed in his heart, he will naturally express it outwardly; trivial matters in his family will often make him angry. He gradually treated me differently than before. But after not seeing each other for the past two years, he finally forgot about my faults and just thought about me and my son. After I came to the north, he wrote a letter to me. He said in the letter: "I am in good health, but my arm hurts badly. I have a lot of inconvenience in lifting chopsticks and pens. I think I will die soon." I read this , in the glistening tears, I saw the fat back again, wearing a green cloth cotton robe and a black cloth mandarin jacket. well! I don’t know when I will see him again!
"Master Zongyue" by Lao She
When I was young, I was very weak due to poverty in my family. I didn't enter school until I was nine years old. Because my family was poor and weak, my mother sometimes wanted to teach me to go to school, but she was also afraid that I would be bullied by men. She couldn't pay the tuition, so I didn't know a word until I was nine years old. Maybe, I will never get the chance to study in my life. Although my mother knew the importance of studying, the tuition fee of three to four dollars a month really made her embarrassed. Mother is the most face-loving person. She was hesitant, and time did not wait for anyone. As time came and went, I might have grown to be more than ten years old. A poor and illiterate child of more than ten years old would naturally start a small business - make a small basket and sell some peanuts, boiled peas, or cherries. Otherwise, go to apprenticeship. My mother loves me very much, but if I could work as an apprentice, or sell cherries on the street with a basket in my hand and earn hundreds of dollars a day, she might not firmly object. Poverty is more powerful than love.
One day Uncle Liu came by chance. I say "accidentally" because he doesn't visit us very often. He is a very rich man. Although he does not distinguish between rich and poor in his heart, his wealth keeps him busy all day long and he has almost no time to visit his poor friends. As soon as he entered the door, he saw me. "How old is the child? Has he gone to school?" he asked my mother. His voice was so loud (after drinking, he often prided himself on learning to call Yu Zhenting's "Leopard"). His clothes were so gorgeous, his eyes were so bright, and his face and hands were so white and fat, which made me I felt that I might have committed some crime. Our hut, with its broken tables and stools and earthen kang, could hardly help but vibrate at the sound of his voice. After my mother finished answering, Uncle Liu immediately decided: "I will come tomorrow morning and take him to school. You don't have to worry about money or books, sister!" My heart was beating so high, who knows what going to school is like!
The next day, like a dishonorable puppy, I followed this rich man to school. The school was a reformed private school, located in a Taoist temple more than half a mile away from my home. The temple is not very big, but it is full of various smells: as soon as you enter the mountain gate, there is the smell of smoke, followed closely by the smell of saccharin (there is a workshop that makes sugar balls and candy bars), and then inside, there is the smell of the toilet, which is similar to the smell of saccharin. Other stinks. The school is in the main hall, and the huts on both sides of the main hall are occupied by Taoist priests and their families. It was dark and cold in the hall. The statues of the gods are covered with yellow cloth, and the memorial tablet of Saint Kong is placed on the altar table. The students were all sitting facing west, and there were about thirty people in one group. There is a blackboard on the west wall - this is a "reformed" private school. The teacher's surname is Li, a very rigid and caring middle-aged man. Uncle Liu and Teacher Li "yelled" for a while, and then taught me to worship saints and teachers. The teacher gave me a copy of "Earth Rhymes" and a "Three Character Classic". So, I became a student.
Since becoming a student, I often go to Uncle Liu’s home. His house has two large courtyards, and dozens of houses in the courtyard have verandahs. Behind the yard, there is a rather large garden. His houses are all around the house. If those houses were lined up, they would occupy half of the street. In addition, he also has several shops. Whenever I go there, he will invite me to eat or give me some snacks that I have never seen before. He would never treat me as a poor child and be indifferent to me. He is a rich man, but he is not proud of his wealth.
When I transferred from private school to public school, Uncle Liu came to help me again. By this time, most of his property had been sold. He is a wealthy man, he only knows how to spend money but not how to calculate.
People eat him, and he is willing to teach them to eat; people lie to him, and he laughs at it. Part of his property was sold, and part of it was swindled, but he didn't care; his laughter was still loud and clear.
By the time I graduated from middle school, he was completely destitute and had no property except the back garden. However, at this time, if he is willing to use his mind to adjust his property, he can still find a way to have enough food and clothing, because a lot of his property has been defrauded by others. However, he refused to hire a lawyer. In his mind, poverty and wealth were exactly the same. If he stopped spending money casually at this time, he could at least keep the garden and the real estate outside the city. However, he is kind. Even though his own children suffered from hunger and cold, and even though he himself suffered a lot, he still went to run schools for poor children, porridge factories, and other charitable undertakings. He forgot himself. It was at this time that I had the closest relationship with him. He ran a school for poor children and I became a volunteer teacher. He gave away grain and rice, and I went to help investigate and distribute it. In my heart, I know very well: releasing grain and money only prolongs the suffering of the poor, but is not enough to prevent death. However, seeing how enthusiastic and sincere Uncle Liu was, I didn't care to argue with him, but had no choice but to contribute. Even if I argued with him, I would not win. Human feelings can often defeat reason.
Before I went abroad, Uncle Liu’s son died. Then, his garden also took action. He entered the temple as a monk, and his wife and young lady entered the nunnery as nuns. Judging from his character, it seemed that he was destined to retreat from the world and learn Zen. But judging from his living habits, everyone always thinks that he can only recite sutras and give alms to the monks, but he will never take the ordination or become a monk. He actually became a monk. In the past, he ate delicacies from the mountains and seas, wore silks and satins, and he also engaged in whoring and gambling.
Now, he has one meal a day and wears a summer sermon robe in the autumn. After such hard training, his face was still red and his laughter was still loud. I dare not say how deeply he understands Buddhism. But I really know that he is a good monk. If he knows something, he will do it, and if he can do something, he will do it. His knowledge may not be high, but what he knows can be put into practice.
After becoming a monk, he soon became the abbot of a large temple. But it didn't take long before he was driven out. He wants to be a true monk, so he does not sell temple property to help the poor. There is no need for such an abbot in the temple. Generally speaking, the abbot's responsibility is to expand the temple property, not to rescue people in need. After leaving the big temple, he went to work as the abbot of a temple without any property. Since he himself had no money, he had to find food for the monks every day. At the same time, he also ran a porridge factory and other charitable undertakings. He is poor, he is busy, and he only eats a simple vegetarian meal every day, but his laughter is still so loud. There was no Buddhist service in his temple, and when someone came to invite him, he would lead the monks to recite Buddhist scriptures for them without any reward. He was not in the temple all day, but he did not forget to practice; he kept the precepts more and more strictly, and gained a deep understanding of the meaning of the scriptures. During the day, he raised money for various things and worked in the small room at night. No one who saw this poor monk would have thought that he was once a wealthy man who grew up in gold.
Last year, one day he was chanting sutras to a monk who had passed away. He suddenly closed his eyes and passed away. After his cremation, many relics were found on his body.
Without him, I might never have entered school in my life. Without him, I might never be able to remember the joy and meaning of helping others. Did he really become a Buddha? I don't know, but I do believe that his intentions, words and deeds are similar to those of Buddha. I have benefited from him both spiritually and materially. Now I really hope that he will become a Buddha, and I hope that he will lead me to good deeds with a Buddha's heart, just like thirty-five years ago, he took me to a private school. That's it!
He is Master Zongyue.
Lu Xun's "Youth Runtu"
A golden full moon hangs in the deep blue sky, and below is the sandy land by the sea, with endless green watermelons planted there. Among them was a boy of eleven or twelve years old, wearing a silver ring around his neck, holding a steel fork in his hand, and stabbed a yun with all his strength. Na Yuan twisted her body and escaped from his crotch.
This young man is Runtu. When I met him, he was only over ten years old, which was about thirty years ago. At that time, my father was still alive and my family was well off, so I was just a young master. That year, my family held a big sacrifice. This sacrifice is said to only come once in more than thirty years, so it is very solemn. During the first month of the year, there are many offerings to the statue, and the sacrificial vessels are very particular. There are also many worshipers, and the sacrificial vessels must also be guarded against theft.
My family only has one busy month (there are three types of workers here: those who work for a certain family throughout the year are called long-term workers; those who work for a certain family on a daily basis are called short-term workers); and those who farm their own land only come during the New Year, holidays and rent collection time. Those who worked for a certain family were called busy months) and he was too busy, so he told his father that he could ask his son Runtu to take charge of the sacrificial vessels.
My father agreed; I was also very happy, because I had heard the name Runtu a long time ago, and knew that he was the same age as me. He was born in the leap month and lacked earth in the five elements, so his father called him Runtu. Runtu. He can pretend to be a bird and catch small birds.
So I look forward to the New Year every day. When the New Year arrives, Runtu will also arrive. Finally, at the end of the year, one day, my mother told me that Runtu was coming, so I ran to see her. He is in the kitchen with a round purple face, a small felt hat on his head, and a bright silver collar around his neck. This shows that his father loves him very much and is afraid that he will die, so he made a wish in front of the gods and Buddhas. The circle caught him. He was very shy when meeting people, but he was not afraid of me. He would talk to me when no one else was around, and within half a day we became familiar with each other.
We didn’t know what to talk about at that time. I just remember that Runtu was very happy, saying that he saw many things he had never seen before after going to the city.
The next day, I asked him to catch birds. He said: "This can't be done. It has to snow heavily. It snowed on our sandy ground. I cleared out a clearing and used a short stick to prop up a big bamboo plaque. I spread the grain and watched the birds come to eat. I pulled the rope tied to the stick from a distance, and the birds were covered under the bamboo plaque: rice chickens, horned chickens, swans, blue-backed..."
So I looked forward to snowing again.
Runtu said to me again: "It's too cold now. Come to us in the summer. We go to the beach to pick up shells during the day. There are red and green ones, there are ghosts and ghosts, and there are Guanyin hands." "My father and I are going to take care of the four melons in the evening, so you can go too." There is no stealing here. What you have to worry about is the badger, the hedgehog, and the porcupine. Under the moon, listen, the pike is biting the melon. Then you pinch the fork and walk gently... ”
I didn’t know what this so-called hedgehog was at the time—and I still don’t know it now—I just felt that it looked like a puppy and was very ferocious for no reason.
Haha? Hui? Terahao Shun? "There is a Hucha. When you get there, you see the harpoon, and you stab it. This beast is very smart. It ran towards you, but it escaped from under the crotch." Its fur is as smooth as oil...
I never knew that there are so many new things in the world: there are such five-color shells on the beach; watermelons have such dangerous experiences, I only knew that they were in fruit shops before It's just a betrayal.
"In our sandy land, when the tide is coming, there are many jumping fish that just jump, with two feet like frogs..."
Ah! There are endless strange things in Runtu's heart, which my usual friends don't know. They didn't know some things. When Runtu was at the beach, they all only saw what was on the high wall in the yard. The sky in the four corners.
Unfortunately, the first month passed and Runtu had to go home. I was so anxious that he hid in the kitchen and refused to go out, but was finally taken away by his father. He later asked his father to bring me a pack of shells and some nice bird feathers. I also gave him things once or twice, but we never saw him again.
Original text attached:
A magical picture suddenly flashed into my mind: a golden full moon hung in the deep blue sky, and below was the sandy land by the seaside, with endless green watermelons planted there. In the meantime, there was an eleven or twelve-year-old boy with a silver ring on his neck and a steel fork in his hand. He stabbed a harpoon with all his strength, but the harpoon twisted its body and escaped from his crotch.
This young man was Runtu. When I met him, he was only more than ten years old, which was about thirty years ago. At that time, my father was still alive and my family was well off. I was a young master. . That year, my family held a big sacrifice. It is said that this sacrifice only happens once every thirty years, so it was very solemn. During the first month, there were many sacrifices, and the worshipers were very particular. There are a lot of them, and the sacrificial vessels must be guarded against theft. My family only has one busy month (there are three types of workers here: those who work for a certain family throughout the year are called long-term workers; those who work for others on a daily basis are called part-time workers); and those who work on their own farm are called short-term workers. , who only came to work for certain people during the New Year, festivals and rent collection times (called busy month). When he was too busy, he told his father that he could ask his son Runtu to take charge of the sacrificial vessels.
My father agreed; I was also very happy, because I had heard the name Runtu a long time ago, and knew that he was the same age as me. He was born in the leap month and lacked earth in the five elements, so his father called him Runtu. Runtu. He can pretend to be a bird and catch small birds.
So I look forward to the New Year every day. When the New Year arrives, Runtu will also arrive. Finally, at the end of the year, one day, my mother told me that Runtu was coming, so I ran to see her. He is in the kitchen with a round purple face, a small felt hat on his head, and a bright silver collar around his neck. This shows that his father loves him very much and is afraid that he will die, so he made a wish in front of the gods and Buddhas. The circle caught him. He was very shy when meeting people, but he was not afraid of me. He would talk to me when no one else was around, and within half a day we became familiar with each other.
We didn’t know what to talk about at that time. I just remember that Runtu was very happy, saying that he saw many things he had never seen before after going to the city.
The next day, I asked him to catch birds. He said: "This can't be done. It has to snow heavily. It snowed on our sandy ground. I cleared out a clearing and used a short stick to prop up a big bamboo plaque. I spread the grains and watched the birds come to eat. I just pulled the rope tied to the stick from a distance, and the birds were covered under the bamboo plaque: rice chickens, horned chickens, swans, blue-backed..."
I was looking forward to snowing again.
Runtu said to me again: "It's too cold now. Come to us in the summer. We go to the beach to pick up shells during the day. There are red and green ones, there are ghosts and ghosts, and there are Guanyin hands." "My father and I are going to take care of the watermelons in the evening, so you can go too." It’s not stealing. What you have to worry about is the badger, the hedgehog, and the harpoon. Under the moon, listen, the harpoon is biting the melon, so you pinch the fork and walk away..."
I didn’t know what this so-called animal was at the time—and I still don’t know it now—I just felt that it looked like a puppy and was very ferocious for no reason.
"Doesn't he bite?"
"There is a Hucha. When you get there, you see the harpoon, and you stab it. This beast is very smart and runs towards you. Instead, it escaped from under the crotch. His fur was as smooth as oil..."
I never knew there were so many new things in the world: there are such colorful shells on the seaside; watermelons have such dangerous experiences, I just knew that he was selling out in the fruit shop.
"In our sandy land, when the tide is coming, there are many jumping fish that just jump, with two legs like frogs..."
Ah! There are endless strange things in Runtu's heart, which are unknown to my ordinary friends. They didn't know something. When Runtu was at the beach, they, like me, only saw the sky at the four corners of the high wall in the yard.
Unfortunately, the first month passed and Runtu had to go home. I was so anxious that I burst into tears. He also hid in the kitchen, crying and refusing to go out, but he was finally taken away by his father. He later asked his father to bring me a pack of shells and some nice bird feathers. I also gave him things once or twice, but we never met again.
In my haziness, another piece of green sand on the seaside spread out in front of me, with a golden full moon hanging in the deep blue sky above.
That’s all I can think of for now