In July 1960, I returned to No. 2 Buhou Street, Chengdu from a farm at the foot of Fenghuang Mountain in the northern suburbs. This is the headquarters of the Sichuan Federation of Literary and Art Circles. I was called back to treat edema. I lived in a guest room that turned right into the courtyard after entering the gate. I read unofficial history records of the Ming and Qing dynasties every day. I didn't want to move when I sat down, and I got hungry quickly when I moved.
It's not difficult to treat edema. The special medicine is a white pill in the shape of an egg strip, about half a centimeter long. Add water and cook it. Take it three times a day, three bowls each time. The more you take, the better the effect. After eight months of treatment, my disease was cured. I was called to the construction site of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles on Dongfeng Road, which had been discontinued. I cut sweet potatoes, planted pumpkins and vegetables, and promoted the ruralization of the street scenery in the big city and increased its beauty. I sat up all night every night to catch those who stole the ornamental plants we planted. There were hundreds of them. In May 1962, I was called to the library and information room of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles to assist in work. I was full, and my libido was excessive.
I wanted to study. As if I was crazy and haunted by ghosts, I worked hard to attack Xu Shen's "Shuowen Jiezi". This brilliant work of text science has a wonderful world in every page, allowing me to travel in it, and I was smugly happy that I had found a place to rest my second half of my life. No wonder some people said that "Shuowen Jiezi" is one of the seven great books in China (the other six are "Yi", "Shi", "Chuci", "Shiji", "Water Margin" and "Dream of Red Mansions"). Focusing on this wonderful book, I also attacked the oracle bone inscriptions of the Shang Dynasty and the bronze inscriptions of the two Zhou dynasties, as well as "Cangjie Pian", "Banma Zilei" and "Yu Pian" and more than ten other works that I could find, which broadened my horizons. Every time I had some experience, I saw what the ancients had never seen, and I was surprised and happy. But I had no place to publish it, so I hid in the public library, which was also my dormitory without paying rent. I closed the doors and windows, and imagined that Xu Shen of the Eastern Han Dynasty was sitting in front of me, listening to my torrent of arguments. I still remember that my defense speech was as follows:
Mr. Shuzhong, you said that the word "chen" looks like the shape of surrender. What you mean, as I understand it, is that in front of the king, the minister must surrender, bend, bend, submit, and serve, which means hunching over, acting like a cow or a horse, and not moving around. If he moves around, straightens his chest, and stands straight, he is a traitor and a traitor, and everyone will find him and punish him. (Soft tone) Is that what you mean, Mr. Shuzhong? (Smiling slightly) Okay. good. Thank you for your approval. You are an honest person who can tell the truth to me who was born late.
It's rare, it's rare that you can openly admit that you are a staunch monarchist. (Condensing his smile) You have the idea in your head that I must surrender, and when you look at the character "chen" in the seal script, you feel that it really looks like a person, hunched over and serving, so you say: "The minister, the leader, serves the king. It's like surrendering." Alas, sir, what can I say? Have you read the oracle bone inscriptions of the Yin Shang Dynasty? (Nods and smiles) I know, of course you haven't read it. One thousand seven hundred years after your death, the oracle bone inscriptions were discovered. That thing is older than the ancient Western Zhou Dynasty texts you have read. Where did you find it, you ask? Yin Ruins.
"The Ruins of Yin on the Huan River"------Sima Qian wrote this in "The Chronicles of Xiang Yu". Go and read "Historical Records". (In a high-pitched tone) The word "chen" in the oracle bone inscriptions doesn't look like a surrender shape at all, but rather looks like a horizontal "eye" character, except that the eyeballs protrude outside the eye sockets. The eyeballs of the character Chen are convex, while those of the character 目 are not. This is the difference. I think the word Chen is the ancient writing of the word Hide that you interpreted as "Zhang Muye". I am angry and my eyes are wide open.
When doing things for the master, you must not squint your eyes and do things blindly, but must open your eyes and observe clearly. Therefore, the word "chen" later changed its meaning to "chen" of the king and his ministers. To do work, you always need to have eyes, so there are various types of officials, such as supervisors and supervisors. There is a minister in the word "supervised", and there is an eye in the word "supervisor", which are both eyes. You always need eyes to do work, so office work is also called looking at things. (The tone returns to a soft tone) Please forgive me for being arrogant, Mr. Shuzhong. I dare not agree with your explanation, let alone your monarchism. I know your old nickname is "Wu Jing Wushuang". Your "Shuowen Jiezi" has given me a lot of happiness, for which I am grateful. But "I love my teacher, and I especially love the truth"!
A man was walking around in the library, talking to himself, and enjoying himself. After 1957, I was completely isolated. Within the agency, no one wanted to talk to me. Some people were disdainful, and some were afraid. I myself have an arrogant nature that is hard to change, and I refuse to flatter others and just try to flatter them.
If you remain isolated like this and don't talk for a long time, it will affect the secretion of gastric juice, and your nerves will not get the necessary excitement, and you may get sick. Out of physiological needs, I asked ancient people to talk to me. The normal way of conversation is to bury your head in a book, look up and stare out the window, and move your lips slightly to speak silently. People in Shu call this "talking nonsense". The special way of dialogue is to hide in the public library, pretending to be a university professor, walking back and forth, talking loudly, sometimes eloquently, sometimes eloquently, supplemented by gestures and smiles, just like our famous Sichuan actor Wang Yongsuo.
Just like his self-written one-man comedy. The conversation I quoted above with Xu Shen is just an example. There were so many opponents that I pulled into the room to serve as targets, and there was no time to prepare. It was just that Mr. Finn was beaten the most often and suffered the worst. Since these unfortunate opponents are all dead and separated from me, they are of course hard to argue with and unable to refute. Therefore, the ending of each dialogue is always invincible and invincible for me, which is very satisfying. This is not only a physiological need, but also a psychological need - it can improve your self-feeling and realize that you are indeed not a loser, thereby strengthening your life beliefs, studying more books, going your own way, and living your life as usual (rather than starting anew) .
I worked in the library and reference room for one year and four months. I got up early every day, swept the floor and wiped the tables, helped clean up the book collection, bound newspapers myself, ran errands for others, borrowed books and checked information, and also pulled coal and rice for the food team. I was very diligent. Sincerely, I have done my best to be worthy of my monthly living expenses of thirty yuan. In my spare time from work, besides studying hard, I also secretly wrote two manuscripts, hoping to publish them publicly after I take off my hat. "The person is still alive, but the heart is still alive!" This is true.
The first manuscript was the long poem "Cao Xueqin", which was completed in the autumn of 1962 (1963 was the 200th anniversary of Cao Xueqin's death). This long poem has 500 lines, and I wrote it in more than 30 nights. I think it is quite good. If I had been deprived of my title at that time, I would definitely send it out. If I had sent it out, it would definitely be published. If it had been published, within three years, I would definitely have been beaten into a poisonous weed by a group of sticks. If I had been beaten into a poisonous weed, I would definitely not have a good end.
Thanks to the iron hat that could not be removed, it saved my ant-like life. Four years after the manuscript was completed, the Cultural Revolution broke out. I heard that my house was going to be searched, but I was reluctant to burn it. He Jie also disagreed with burning it. She took the manuscript back to Chengdu and gave it to Milo Qiu, a fellow rightist, for safekeeping. Milo Qiu made a square stool with plywood and hid the manuscript in the seat of the square stool. Soon, the news became tense. Fearing that it was unsafe, He Jie went to Milo Qiu's house to take out the manuscript, sent it to a relative's house in the countryside of Shuangliu County, and buried it in the ash trough in front of the stove door. Soon, it was no longer safe there, so my relatives and family burned the manuscript. I knew that Cao Xueqin was cremated, and I was not sad at all, but happy, as if a knife hanging over my head had been removed.
The second manuscript is a very interesting popular science book "Wandering in the Sea of Words", which has not yet been completed. I took a rectangular wooden box, one foot and two inches long and eight inches wide, which was originally placed in the corridor of the office as a public spittoon. I poured out the lime, washed off the dirt, nailed a pair of hinges and locks, and transformed it into a small box. I hid this unfinished manuscript in the box, locked it, and placed it next to my pillow so that I could have a sweet dream. Needless to say, I did all this secretly. If you want to be harsh and accuse me, this is of course an act of stealing socialist public property and a sabotage activity of the rightists to counter reform. At that time, I thought: "Instead of using it to hold poison for everyone, it is better to use it to hold poison for me alone!" (lz)
I read hard in my spare time from work. In the summer of 1963, for the sake of convenience, I simply spent the night on the couch in the library instead of going back to the public library to sleep. It was stuffy and hot there, with many mosquitoes and the musty smell of old books. The library and reference room is very spacious, with large windows in the front and high windows in the back.
The air is convection and is very cool, which is conducive to studying on summer nights. I'm not a picky person, I can sleep soundly anywhere. To sleep on the couch, you don't need a mat or a pillow, just a tattered towel and quilt. This triggered revolutionary indignation among some people. They believed that rightists were only suitable for working and not studying. The more they studied, the worse they became. They asked the leaders of the Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles to drive me back to the farm. Someone else reminded everyone: "Comrades, please pay attention, Emmett is trying to cheat us!"
There's nothing wrong with going back to the farm. The humble body is only afraid of starvation edema (which I experienced in 1960), not labor, especially humiliating hard labor. When you work during the day, your brain gets a rest, and when you study at night, your mind becomes sharper and you gain a lot. What's more, the leftist trend in the organization has suddenly started again. The three-year famine has ended, and my stomach is full again. Now I have to "never forget the class struggle." I am still stuck there, causing many inconveniences to others and myself. Thank God, on September 26, 1963, I walked out of the back door of No. 2 Buhou Street, Chengdu. The following is the diary of that day:
The autumnal equinox has passed.
Packed up luggage and odds and ends this morning. Going back to the farm. Meat at noon. After the meal, he slept soundly as usual. It's a nice sunny day and quite hot.
I left at 4pm with a sense of loss. I quietly walked out from the back door, covered with a blanket, carrying a bamboo basket and a small schoolbag, walked to the intersection of Five Generations Under One House, took a bus to Longsheng Street, transferred to Liangjia Lane, and then transferred to Dawan. I staggered to the farm with my bag on my shoulders, and it was past 5pm.
Make the bed, hang the curtains, and finish cleaning up after 6 o'clock.
After dinner, it was a cool autumn day. The crescent moon is like a bow, it is already the first month of August in the lunar calendar, and the Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching.
Long after sunset, a bright red light cone can still be seen in the western sky, which is suspected to be the zodiacal light in astronomy, which is common around the spring and autumnal equinoxes every year.
Read the newspaper at night and go to bed early. Stop reading for one night.
Mosquitoes are still fierce indoors, and the chirping of autumn insects in the fields fills our ears.
This time I came to the farm with the following books: Shuowen Jiezi Yucai Zhu, Yu Pian, Shuowen Jigu Bian, Shuowen Shili, Zixue Mengqiu, Shennong Bencao, Huangdi Neijing Suwen, Guyaoyan, etc. I also brought down the first draft of the unfinished "Wandering in the Sea of Words" in five volumes, which I will continue to work on.
I was too naive at the time. I always thought that as long as I stopped causing trouble, was honest and obedient, and worked hard, God would be moved in the end. He would take off my rightist label and give me a place to live so that I could concentrate on studying ancient characters and become an academic expert. It would not be in vain for me to eat and wear clothes. If I achieved something, I could still say, "I have made contributions to the country," to comfort my conscience as a member of the Communist Youth League, even though I had been expelled from the league and was nothing.
Naive fantasies, coupled with the fact that I had been reformed for six years and my thick skin had become thicker and thicker, formed a tortoise shell that armed me so that I could endure no matter how I was stepped on or kicked. I was a stone that had already sunk to the bottom of the sea. What else could be done to me? What else could I not endure? It seemed that the mountains had reached the end and the waters had run out. There was another village ahead with willows and flowers. I only had to walk a short distance and I would reach the Peach Blossom Spring.
I never dreamed that the road ahead would become more and more dangerous, and the sky would become darker and darker, and the darkness would last for ten years. Unexpected, but that was good. If I had known at that time that there were so many insults, hard work, hunger, cold, and diseases waiting for me, I would have died of fear or worry. Thanks to my naive fantasy, plus the nine years of labor training, humiliation training, and loneliness training before the Cultural Revolution, I was able to cope with the strange disasters and catastrophes in the future. I finally got through it and saw the bright sunshine. In this sunshine, I wrote a memoir-like "Sawtooth Bites" to let young readers see what strange disasters and catastrophes happened in our country through a narrow gap, learn some lessons from them, and make sure that the disasters will be eliminated forever and never happen again.
On September 26, 1963, I walked out of the back door of No. 2 Buhou Street, as if I were going out to do errands. I never expected that I would never see the Sichuan Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles again. At that time, I thought that if I went to work on the farm for at least a year, I would have to go back to work in the library sooner or later, so I had no emotions and didn't look back at the crossing above the back door. The diary of that day was written leisurely and calmly, which was disappointing to read. If I had known that I would never come back from this trip, I should have pretended to express so many emotions in it, and I would never have written about where to take the bus, where to transfer, how to make the bed and hang up the bills. But, alas, who can predict the future!
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