Miscellaneous Notes on Zhao Lantian’s Hometown Trip 1

On June 4th, I took some time off at dusk to visit the hometown of painter Zhao Lantian in Tangba Village, Shiyan Town. Exploring ancient times is better said to be wandering around to relax, a quiet release of the interest secretly growing in my heart. Tangba is not far from Shiyan Town, about six miles south from the street. When I was young, I always liked to go to the villages around the town with my friends in the alley to play. Maybe it was because they always had relatives scattered around, so walking felt purposeful and safe. For example, Jijialou and Taosi are close to the town, Hongzhuang is further away, and Mojiazhuang has an old stage with brackets and cornices. Sometimes, from Cha'an Pier in the north of the town, we jump on the transfer boat to transport Shiyan brigade members back and forth. , waving the oar crookedly across the Jianjiantaidong River, and went to Luo Moyu in Xinghua. There is also a stage in Luo Moyu, but it is made of earth, but it does not affect the interest of watching the play at all. What is important is that after the play, the hospitable reception of the uncles and aunts, and the freshly picked corns are soaked in water in the hot starry sky. Melons and tomatoes, a steaming bowl of fried rice tea in the middle of winter, and pockets filled with peanuts, sunflower seeds and melon seeds.

Although Tangba is not far away, because of the lack of relatives and friends, not many people go there, and the impression is not too deep. I remember that the village is among a group of black tiles and double eaves, and there is a fish The small street is paved with ridge-like thin bricks and seems to be endless. Grocery stores are opened on both sides. There are few pedestrians. The autumn wind is blowing in my heart, and I have to beware of vicious dogs. In fact, the small village of Dixi has always been filled with densely packed houses but few passers-by. It is like walking through several quiet cities as an adult. Perhaps it is a visual barrier formed by self-defense in the heart for no reason, and I just rely on my own desire to experience some ethereal happiness.

The bus pulled over at the intersection of Provincial Highway 610 and the village. It was not the same route as in my impression. I followed the location on WeChat and headed east, passing some newly built farmhouses, a gate bridge, A deserted school and a village public notice board. I carefully looked at the list of rural subsidies for this year posted on the column. Although the list was densely packed, I could still tell at a glance that the surname Zhao was the most common surname in the village. A short walk further in there is a cement road running from north to south, and the roadside bus stop is marked with the three characters "Tangba Village". I thought that this road should be the same old road that I walked on when I was a child, but now it is much smoother and wider. Continuing walking from the entrance of the village, we walked onto a sluice bridge. The bridge was in disrepair and the guardrails on both sides were incomplete. But standing on the top of the bridge and looking around, I saw a large green river that split from west to north and south, winding around the stacked dam houses on the left bank and interlacing with the golden wheat fields low in the sky. A feeling of ancient times suddenly arose, and it seemed that the hot and boundless wind in the surrounding area was also intoxicated by this scene. In an instant, countless light and shadows with the fragrance of old wheat poured out, and everything became calm, cool and beautiful. In fact, this kind of scenery that is familiar to the soul is a journey back to childhood in life. In the soul, it is a towering dense forest or a clear spring water, such as the nickname of the baby who is repeatedly awakened by the parents in the dream, and the beloved silhouette while running and panting.

Turn left along the narrow village road paved with cement slats and enter the village. There are farmyards on both sides, and there is no noise from chickens and ducks. Amid the fragrance of flowers, the village road split in front of a fertilizer store with a bright red sign. One road went south, the other north, with no end in sight. I hesitated for a while, because the two separate roads were also paved with gray cement slabs. This was completely different from the scene where there was only one fish spine and intestines in my impression. Moreover, most of the houses on the roadside were renovated and turned into squares. Hard and clean cement white walls have replaced the ruins of the Ming and Qing dynasties. There is no longer the barking of dogs under the door, and only my own shadow swaying randomly under the scorching sun. Looking at the two narrow and slender lanes composed of doors, steps, walls, and telephone poles, I was filled with frustration at the loss of the shadows of the tall trees in the past. But now I have to choose one to continue. I prefer to believe that the meaning of this trip is more important than exploring the countryside. It is more valuable to reduce the vegetation of agricultural residences during construction. Regarding Zhao Lantian, I first learned about it by reading the 94 edition of "Dongtai City Chronicles". A few words: Shiyan was the hometown of Qing Dynasty water conservancy scientist Feng Daoli, modern educator Tai Shuangqiu, and painter Zhao Lantian. Unfortunately, there is no follow-up in the book. A few years later, I learned from the encyclopedia that Zhao Lantian was from Shiyantangba. From the auction website, I learned about some of his works that are different from the field of children's paintings. Through the Zhonghua Book Company celebration commemoration and some beans Ding Ziyi knew that Mr. Ding was one of the few full-time decorators during the Republic of China, which made me particularly admire him. However, such a modern children's education has been hidden by the times, and I am personally puzzled.

On the 120th anniversary of the birth of Zhao Lantian (2013), Dolphin Publishing House published a set of coloring picture books titled "New Paintings of Old Paintings by Famous Masters: Creative Graffiti" as a commemoration. The 433-page children's graffiti design of the Republic of China aroused my interest and inspired me to read the old books. I found more of his works online. Whether they are covers, illustrations, or full-color paintings, each one exudes a distinct flavor of the times and represents the development trajectory and characteristics of early children's paintings in my country. However, there are very few written introductions about the gentleman. They only describe how his paintings are, or about the life of the character, which is roughly the same as in the encyclopedia. This is like a big tree far away in the wilderness, a monk in the valley, still far away from the closeness of our secular souls. With many questions, to know a person’s history and details, it is necessary to start from his hometown.

The silent village is not lifeless. From time to time, one or two battery cars fly by. I don’t know what they are doing in such a hurry. Maybe it is the excitement and commotion before the cutting. Ripe wheat gathered in groups on the ridges beside the ditch outside the village, bowing their heads and looking forward to each other intimately. There were too many smiling stars in their eyes. I could vaguely smell the intoxicating fragrance of the harvest celebration in the village.

I followed the Tangba Road marked on the satellite map and walked south slowly and alone. I felt that the answer to the centrifugal force was getting closer, and my steps became lighter and lighter. I stopped at an intersection with village nine and ten groups of wall signs posted on the left and right, and while I was taking pictures with my mobile phone, a eldest sister was curious about this strange behavior, walked out of the house and asked me who I was looking for. I said I was asking about Zhao Lantian, who is painting here. People before liberation. The eldest sister said that she should ask the older people in the village about ancient matters. Her surname was Wang, who was not a local but came here through marriage. She said that if you go south, there are many elderly people in the butcher shop, so you might be able to ask. Thank you for your kindness. Less than a stone's throw south, there is a butcher's shop at the T-shaped entrance. Several bundles of burnt butter vegetable sticks are close to the door. Because it is almost noon, the butcher has already closed the stall, and he is sitting behind the thick and shiny meat case. Chatting with two or three old people. He stepped forward to explain his purpose, but everyone looked confused and answered questions that were not asked. It seemed that Zhao Lantian had not been popular with the locals for a long time. After a moment of hesitation, a man in his fifties or sixties turned out to be polite and said: Lan Tian is a famous person in Tangba, and he is introduced in the picture column of the town's cultural center. As for the ins and outs, we don't know much about it. Let me point you to someone. The old principal Zhao Wuhua is in his nineties and should know something about what you want. The old man's house is behind the grain depot. If you go left, there is a 300-year-old yellow bud tree in front of the door and a Taihu stone in the courtyard. After hearing these words, it is not an exaggeration to say that I would like to thank him three times. Because before I came in the morning, I gathered with my mother and said that I was going to Tangba, and there was someone like Zhao Lantian. My mother said that there was a Zhao Wuhua in Tangba, and she had attended his lectures twice. One time was at Xialong Primary School in the 1960s. At that time, he was about 30 or 40 years old, and he was the principal. He was tall, strong, and soft-spoken. , be kind to others. One time was when I went to Tangba to attend a class when I was a child in the 1970s. As for the person you mentioned, I have never heard of him. So under the circumstances, I quickly asked him his name, and he smiled and replied that his surname was Zhao. It is said that there are two streets in Tangba, South Street and North Street, and there is a section of Stone Street to the east. Before liberation, it was also a town with many characters, including Zhao Zhenqian, Zhao Lantian, etc. Zhao Zhenqian's tomb was newly built in the south of the village. The north corner of the South Street Butcher Shop was originally the Zhao family's ancestral temple. There were two archways in front of the temple. They were both destroyed in the 1960s, and all the family trees were lost. You can't explain the relationship here, even if you ask me. Then he walked straight to the middle of the T-shaped street and pointed to the east: "Just go straight in."

Zhao Zhen (Zheng?) Qian (1903-1941) was an anti-Japanese enlightened person, and there is a special record in the "Dongtai City Chronicles" Characters and Martyrs chapter. As for the ethnic relationship between me and Zhao Lantian, I can only wait for the explanation from the village elders. I have no idea about the existence of family trees and village chronicles. After the impact of the times and historical changes, most of this kind of culture that relies on feudal kinship to record people and events has emerged. It will all disappear, unless someone with good intentions will devote themselves to editing it again. However, the few words of the enthusiastic Zhao guide have already become a prophecy. Now I followed the pointed direction and went all the way to find Mr. Zhao Wuhua. This section was probably in the center of the village. There were more and more old houses, most of them dilapidated and abandoned. The gables and roofs were covered with dead vines and weeds. The buildings had long been empty, but since then Between the blue bricks and black tiles, you can tell that it used to be a well-to-do family. Looking at the fearless thick branches and leaves across the courtyard wall, one can't help but feel that "the flowers and plants of the Wu Palace are buried in the secluded paths, and the clothes of the Jin Dynasty have become ancient hills". If the door is still ajar, there will be another feeling in my heart: "A knowing smile makes the comb grow old lonely." Many times I hope that it will be the latter situation. Only when I have a home can I return, and I can experience the beauty of the world in the midst of anticipation and nostalgia. Endless waiting in life is cruel. Even if the oil runs out and the lamp dries up, at least in every moment it shines, you will feel warm in your heart.

The peach blossoms are shining brightly in April. There are always some youthful sentiments of "standing in oblique branches" and "moving shadows of wallflowers" that move us. Although we have not held hands and turned white, if you are well, it will be a sunny day.

I turned around to the east and didn’t see any yellow buds from three hundred years ago. Instead, I found a long wall of green bricks in a remote place. The high wall with green moss was covered with green moss every few steps. The protruding wall stacks are solid and have a sense of age, and the footpath is also in the shape of a thin brick fish ridge. This is probably the grain depot that the passerby mentioned. Go east and turn the corner, you will see a towering gatehouse in the center of a window wall, proud and independent. Across the road is a wide and dilapidated pier. The top of the gatehouse is semi-circular, with a stone base and a huge five-pointed star protruding from the middle. It is simple, beautiful and grand, a typical architectural style of the 1950s and 1960s. The door is open, and when you walk in, you will find an empty cement drying field with a row of white-walled warehouses 50 meters apart in the north and south. It occupies a very large area and is rare. If you look at it from a high-altitude satellite perspective, it also looks abrupt and impressive. Except for the gate tower Part of the roof of the office building facing the street collapsed, but there was not much damage to the exterior of the building. I roughly calculated that the space between the two rows of huts is about 1,500 square meters. This storage scale is far beyond that of ordinary villages. Even compared with the national standard Soviet-style warehouses of the same period, it is not much different. It is not difficult to see that the food in Tangba huts was abundant and water transportation was developed at that time. , location is important. The most prosperous places are the loneliest. Nowadays, decadence has become a secular scene. Looking at the silent sunbathing field and the five-pointed star on the gate tower still shining brightly, I recall the coming and going of people during the summer levy and unified purchase in the countryside during the Dragon Boat Festival when I was a child. The bustling scenes, the most desolate of hearts, it is true that time has turned. What would those rural sages who advocated confiscation of temple property and running schools back then have said about it if they were still alive. I searched all the way around the grain depot, and I saw a collector coming directly with an electric scooter. He waved his loudspeaker and shouted: "Collect coins, copper plates, old books and paintings, collect broken mobile phones, air conditioners, and refrigerators." While he was hiding in a hurry, the trolley disappeared, leaving behind a series of ups and downs of shouts that echoed in the deserted alleyway for a long time. I thought to myself, how could this rag collector turn into a person who shovels land and picks up leaks from across the street? He also learned how to look after the vegetables and eat when walking in the streets, and knew the details of this village. But I always felt that there was nothing awkward about the shouting. It was not as familiar and comfortable as: "Put your hair away long and short, put away old books and newspapers." While running around with random thoughts, a countryman wearing a blue and white striped shirt stopped laughing and said: Isn’t the home of old principal Zhao Wuhua right behind you? It's so surprising that there are no secrets in the close contacts, or there are personal weird behaviors that attract attention. Anyway, it was not going well. I knocked on the door and asked the old principal if he was at home. A middle-aged woman came out from the kitchen carrying a bowl. After hearing the purpose of the visit, she said: Grandpa was taken to Jiangsu Province by the maid a few days ago. He will stay for a long time. You've arrived at an unlucky time. She had no choice but to say goodbye, but she was unwilling to do so. She raised her mobile phone to take a picture of the rockery made of several lake stones in the courtyard as a souvenir. There were still no yellow buds. When I wanted to ask about this, the woman had retreated to the back room for a while. It is a pity that the person does not meet the yellow bud tree.

My thoughts linger among the white walls and black tiles. To be honest, this rural lane is very similar to where I was on the edge of the city before it was renovated. Bring on the smell. Perhaps it is this kind of breath that has been brewed through the baptism of time, which contains some things that are retrograde to life, some forgotten time and happiness, and jumps out from the solidified texture at a certain moment when the heartstrings are touched, performing like a familiar piece of music. , the scenery of my hometown is like fireflies on a summer night, the light trembling from the soul; like the smile of a baby in swaddling clothes, it is the cry you have tried your best to your parents, it is the flame, it is the whirling wheat ears that cannot be covered by the darkness. night. This desire to run endlessly seems to be a long-awaited tranquility, a comfort at the right time. In an instant, it seems that the way of life pursued throughout the life is often not worth the ordinary life that is despised by oneself. With the purpose of coming here in mind, after a lot of stumbling against the wall, it seemed that it was not so urgent and important. Looking at the densely packed houses in front of me and the dim sky with antennas stretching horizontally above my head, I suddenly thought about the stone streets and the stone streets mentioned by the guide. North Street.

Although this dam is small, it is not easy to find a shortcut that leads directly from north to south in Jinglu Mo Lane, because among the many twists and turns, there are always some sudden curiosities that derail the path you originally wanted to take, such as A piece of rock covered with moss and knife marks actually stood on its own at the intersection; a house with an open door, the patio was filled with flowers and plants but the owner was nowhere to be seen; a two-story flat-roofed building with the characteristics of the 1980s, rough and dilapidated The concrete railings, the dark red and beige exterior walls are increasingly mottled and fading; and the short screen wall behind the sloping roof has terrazzo glass strips inlaid with an open folding fan and a spider web-like gossip. The pattern and screen wall seem to be of the same period style as the small building, but it feels much brighter due to the village road between them. It was common in the early years to carve a round fan, lotus, fishing drum and other auspicious figures on the eaves bricks of the entrance hall. And the "fan" that opens straight on the screen wall means "being kind to others"? Or is it the way to dispel evil spirits from thousands of miles away? Could adding a radiant gossip that could turn things around help resolve Lu Chong's theory? It's impossible to guess. Looking at the closed windows of the dilapidated small building facing the alley, I thought about the people standing tall behind the screen wall. One is happy, one is sad, one is good and one is evil. The mystery of this is really not as good as writing a big word "福" or throwing a rock to save each other's worries. And everyone was happy. Spending leisurely time in the homes of ordinary people on Bashang, through disturbing worldly affairs, capturing light and shadow, we get more than just glimpses of scenery.

After bypassing Zhaobi’s house, we should go to North Street. The east-west road that appeared in front of us turned out to be straight and bright. It turns out that the street and the alley seemed to be the same cement slab road, with almost all houses on both sides, but If you look carefully, there are still some differences. The ancients said: straight is a street, and crooked is an alley. The winding and narrow alleys here really followed this principle. No wonder I couldn't find a way out when I was going here and there. The problem wasn't entirely due to my uneasiness. In addition to being straighter, this street is also a bit wider. The ground under your feet is paved with two long cement slabs side by side, unlike the laneway with one slab in the middle. Once you understand this, you won't be confused by the streets and alleys when you wander in a place with few faces in Bashang. Replacing blue bricks with cement boards is both economical and practical. The roads are flat, and drainage dredging is easy to maintain. It also vaguely retains the beauty of the thick and sequenced blue bricks. This beauty seems to be unmatched by rigid road construction in other villages. The blue bricks cannot be restored, so we have to settle for the second best and become a style of its own. Going west, a large section of whitewashed walls with fish-scale tiles and painted doors and windows is particularly peaceful and casual in the sunshine. A house like this one in the street with one light, two dark and three bays from the late Qing Dynasty and the Republic of China, has a facade, sill walls and small doors on both sides. The windows looked like they had high eyebrows but low eyes, and now most of them have been demolished. But on this dam, not counting the crowded houses behind the street, there are about a dozen symmetrical houses on both sides of the road alone. Unexpectedly, Tangba Village in a remote area actually hides such an authentic gathering place. This is purely an unexpected gain of this trip. It is not that Jiangnan is more populated than Jiangnan. However, the small street is not willing to be so mediocre and deserted. Walking further, we finally reach the Bashang Commercial Center, where old-fashioned shops are dotted together, with one or two lofts interspersed with them. It looks very much like an old collotype painting, with sunlight filtering through the doors on both sides. The stretched awning overflows, and the lazy scent of rose flowers is everywhere. There seemed to be a light maroon wind over the low roof, constantly rolling and jumping between the wires, fluttering downwards, and lifting the big red slogan above the door. Time is as clever as calligraphy and painting, packing away the forgotten pain after passion in this quiet corner of the world. Along the way, there are Shenma Rural Taobao, Yi Nong Information Co., Ltd., a health clinic, men's and women's bathrooms, a Haiwu store with a full range of goods, a supply and marketing cooperative with a strong sense of history, and several small daily miscellaneous shops. At the end is the fertilizer store with a bright red sign at the fork, and the corner is covered with flowers half as tall as a person.

When I first saw the four words "rural Taobao", I was confused and wanted to ask for clarification. However, the door of the store was tightly closed. I opened Baidu on my mobile phone. It turned out that it was an e-commerce platform jointly created by Alibaba Group and the government to facilitate the Internet. It is a project that benefits ourselves and the people by sending goods to the countryside and bringing agricultural products to the cities. Going to the countryside has gained me some knowledge again, I muttered to myself. Rural Taobao is not set up in every village. Based on evaluation, Alibaba selects a location with a large number of people in several villages as the location of the online store and invests funds. Before I came here, I did some research on the administrative website and local compilation information: Tangba Village currently has a registered population of 2,460 people, 808 households, and 15 villager groups. The jurisdiction covers an area of ??8.45 square kilometers, 3,600 acres of cultivated land, and 1,000 acres of water surface. mu. The waterway Nanguan River flows through the village from east to west, and there are many rivers.

Through comparison within the region, Tangba Village ranks ahead of the city's 368 villages in terms of population and cultivated land area. It can be said to be a large village and naturally has the conditions required for Ali to establish a village-level service station. Regarding the origin of the village, the "Dongtai County Gazetteer" in 1985 said: In the late Ming Dynasty, floods broke out, and people dug ponds here to take soil to build dams, hence the name Tangba. The book introduces the direction of the Nanguan River flowing through the village: it starts from Anfeng in the east and connects with Chuanchang River, goes west through Taosizhuang, Shiyan Commune, and enters Taidong River, flowing through Liangduo, Anfeng, Xianlie, Shiyan, and Qin East Commune. The total length is 19 kilometers. Interestingly, the "Dongtai City Chronicles" section on boundary rivers says: "Nanguan River is also called Yunyan River, also known as Dajian River and Liushili River. The whole river starts from Anfeng Town in the east, connects with Chuanchang River, and ends in Qin in the west. Qingpujiao in Dongzhen enters the Taidong River, with a total length of 30 kilometers. The river was raised in the 20th year of Jiaqing in the Qing Dynasty (1815). In 1972, while the Anshi River was being excavated, Qindong Town started a diversion project for the west section of the Nanguan River. The original flow from Wang River to Taidong River will be changed from Baimi River and Zhiqing River to Taidong River." There is an ambiguity here: the direction of the Nanguan River from the west to the Taidong River. I was reading the "Dongtai County Chronicle" supplemented in 1983 and saw relevant records: From Lijiagang in Dajian, Chuanchang River, Anfengchang to Liushili, Qingpu merges into Yunyan River, so it is named Liushili River. The channel through which Fu'an and Anfeng transport salt to Taizhou is also called the Nanyun Salt River or Nanguan River. In the 20th year of Jiaqing (1815), dredging stopped due to rain. The history of the excavation of this river is unknown. The earliest mention of this river in the "County Chronicle" is "In the 23rd year of Yongzheng (1758), 60 miles of fiber embankments were built from Qingpujiao and Dajian River to Anfengchang." It can be seen that the direction of the Liushili River (Dajian River) has been connected earlier. It roughly runs from Anfeng to the west of Sunjiazhuang in Hougang to Qingpujiao and enters the Taidong River. However, due to siltation, it could not be dredged, and it was finally diverted from Yangjiaduo to Tangba. The village goes northwest through Tao Sizhuang and enters the Taidong River. It is not just from the south of the village from east to west as stated in the village information. This is also consistent with the records in the Gazetteer of 1985. According to the proportions of the river legends on the maps attached to the Gazetteer and Municipal Chronicles, and even the latest satellite images, it can be seen that the width of this river is significantly larger than the newly selected Zhiqing River in 1972, and it can be imagined that it plays a role in diversion and drainage of low-lying areas. . As for the "City Chronicle", a large part of the Wanghe River has been silted up and has been lost in the long river of time without a trace. Of course, everything cannot be done by itself, and the water conservancy unit must be consulted for specific facts and data. To justify such explanations, I just hope to return the favor to the great river that flows from the east to the north and joins Baotangba in jade-like locks, the great river that has nourished my ancestors in Xixiang for generations, the clear and brilliant Xijia River in my soul to the south, and the sparkling Xijia River in the south. The lapel carries a beautiful belonging. Like a name that has been carefully gathered together, like wind and hurricane, the night can't help but appear, instantly dispelling the whispers and shadows hidden under the heavy wings. The stars in the sky are bright, and the white and silver limbs are slowly swirling above the head. In the incomparably agitated mind, there is endless circulation and endless fantasies. I have an idea that when Dongtai County was established, there should be four main salt transport branch rivers from north to south, namely Taidong River and Shibali River starting from Heduochang, Liangduochang, Anfengchang and Fu'anchang. , Dajian River and Dunbei River passing through Qiu Lake. The name of Nanguan River itself may be that it is a river that is constantly changing. As the low-lying areas in the west accumulate and the coastal salt works are built and abandoned, it gradually forms the current trend of flowing from Tao Sizhuang to Taidong River. Its earliest route may be Fu'an, Qiuhu, It crosses the river from Nanxiang (Yaowan), Sunjiazhuang and Baozhuang for seven miles to Qingpujiao in Luocun and enters the Taidong River.

When you are immersed in your own world, words are just the result of wanton thoughts, a lonely change in posture between pitching and picking up. Just like when I suddenly stood in front of the sales department of this village's supply and marketing cooperative, looking up at the strong cement characters on the eaves wall of the door: "Shi'an Supply and Marketing Cooperative Tangba Sales Department", I probably didn't think about the relationship between "埝" and "Tangba Sales Department". "Yan" has been confused in the pronunciation and meaning of Xixiang, and has a history of misuse. A single word that strikes the soul will release countless emotions about life: a small figure walking alone on the wet stone road in his hometown, those things forgotten in tickets, The stories in rubber boots, tung oil umbrellas, matches, and kerosene lamps secretly grow into beautiful and lush flowers. Almost overnight, the red and black note signs with white backgrounds hanging at the gates of communes, police stations, and supply and marketing cooperatives all changed their names to someone from Shiyan Township. This word "weir" is a word I have never encountered before. Curious about this change, walking on the high polder embankment and looking at the wind and clouds coming from the south in the sky, life began to have some melancholy and longing.

Naturally, when I was young, I didn’t pay attention to the reasons for the changes that were spread among my neighbors. But when I was bored, I became obsessed with the discontinuity of the Song serifs of “埝” and “尰”, the complexity and simplicity of the strokes, and even the familiarity and unfamiliarity of the glyphs. Today, when I accidentally dug out a high school graduation photo and looked at the sentence at the top of the photo: "Graduation commemoration of class XX of Shi'an Middle School in Dongtai County," I felt even more cordial and heart-beating, perhaps more because of the smiles that shared each other's feelings under those big words. face. When this photo was taken, it was already many years after the implementation of the "separation of government and society." Many tendernesses in this world often come from unintentional perseverance in daily life. I suddenly remembered the old photographer who was bald and balding. He rode his bicycle from Qindong, eighteen miles away, under the scorching sun. Some classmates whispered that this man was the fat, white man who always liked to talk about "topology" in class. "The father of the young teacher, instead of the usual practice, the school notified the Lin Family Photo Studio in this town to take pictures. After bidding farewell and taking a group photo together in their prime, the class teacher, who was always strict, gave an emotional speech at the break-up meal, which made the male and female students' eyes turn red and sigh. Such a deceased person suddenly reminded me of the slogan "Strive to work hard and strive for the top" in red letters on a white background with neat calligraphy on the wall of my hometown. I thought of the tiles on the wall that had to be removed from the roof every autumn. I thought of stepping on it. Picking big and long pumpkins while looking at the roof, I remembered that one day my father came back and asked someone to nail wires under the eaves, and lead them through the wall through porcelain bottles for lighting. I remembered that when I left this house, my mother talked about it one day. When my father was in the Farming and Education Office, he was inexplicably implicated in the internal factional struggle of the "County Anti-Enemy Struggle Headquarters". When he came to his hometown, he suffered all kinds of mental whippings. Even after he was reinstated, he still worked hard. All kinds of past events. I remembered that a few years later, a newspaper asked a retiree to write about his unforgettable memories. My father only wrote about the fun of life when he was a teacher in his early years, preparing lessons on winter nights and a group of people simmering brown rice in hot water bottles to satisfy their hunger. He never mentioned a word or a half of his personal experiences. Suddenly I understood that the world with lotus flowers covering the dust has always existed in ordinary life. The so-called one leaf and one bodhi, knowing one's mind and one's nature, and living an interesting and tolerant life is the best practice. Such a word "坝" is a key to the depths of time, and it also confirms the simple feelings of the people on this land.

However, the moment I stepped into the store, I realized how funny it was that I was addicted to time. The spacious bungalow is divided in half. The glass counter shelves on both sides are filled with food, daily miscellaneous goods, hardware and agricultural supplies. It is dark and messy. It is very different from the dazzling array of supply and marketing stores in the impression. Perhaps it lacks the kind of "developing the economy. There are large slogans to ensure supply; bustling and joyful New Year pictures; clearly marked prices, and an atmosphere of queuing up to shop without being bullied by both young and old. The old shopkeeper dozed off on a broken wooden chair, and only decline and decay pervaded the situation. Fortunately, this downturn no longer came from accusations of the "defects and backwardness" of the system, and few people in the newspapers stood up to speak out. , everyone became as quiet as a junkie. I hope that the brightly colored “Yi Nong Information Society” on the diagonally opposite glass door of this store can truly bring benefits to Bashang farmers. There was a lot of confusion, and I recalled the colorful small advertisements posted on the yellow and black bottoms of the gables and telephone poles along the way, such as various discounts and good news, waterproof warranty, centralized wholesale, village manager of a certain bank, grasshopper moths, etc. Identification and emergency prevention and treatment technical measures, village rules and regulations that can be seen everywhere, and of course those that have been repeatedly banned: advertisements for military medical seedlings to treat gonorrhea, syphilis, genital warts and other difficult gynecological diseases in men. It’s really interesting. I rarely have the interest to see this kind of thing that has nothing to do with my life. After thinking about it carefully, in fact, all this does not violate professional ethics. It is just to maintain the dignity of the unfortunate in the role of treating diseases and saving lives. Not claiming to be a moral defender. "Book of Rites." "Li Yun" said: "Food and drink, men and women, human beings have great desires." "Mencius" says: Food and sex are also related to nature. The Analects of Confucius also says: I have never seen a person who loves virtue as much as a person who loves sex. It can be seen that the happiness of men and women is innately necessary for physiology like food. But being too greedy and having fun and unfortunately winning the bid is actually a hidden punishment. No one can do anything wrong unless he is a saint. There are considerations in the treatment of patients who are urgently ill. For thousands of years, wandering doctors have been practicing medicine in the world. In addition to making a living by relying on proven prescriptions and secret recipes, they also contribute to the good of society. Whether you love it or hate it, it is posted everywhere. In fact, it exists in this world like a god, or it may make fun of psoriasis, but no matter what, society still needs to be tolerant. How to be tolerant? For decades, our literature, art and public opinion have been trying to dodge and struggle between revealing and showing off, but people in Europe and the United States have long taken it all off. UC News reported: Recently, another male and female netizen in the UK was arrested for having sex in an open square in broad daylight. Parents of students beat them up. I really cheered for the word "beat it up".

Hooking up and having sex in the wild have been around since ancient times. Confucius himself also benefited from having sex in the wild in his birth and afterlife. At that time, his father, uncle Liang He, was 66 years old, and his mother, Yan Zheng, was 15 years old. The Master emphasized: A gentleman is lustful but not lewd. Feng Zikai wrote in "Old Shanghai" that he kept himself clean and had never visited prostitutes, but when he walked through the Tibet intersection of Sima Road, he couldn't help but want to see something. When I was searching for Zhao Lantian’s contribution to binding, I came across a number of books from the Republic of China. What’s interesting is that pre-war literature was still able to develop in an orderly and healthy manner under the new cultural banner of “democracy and science.” After the fall of Shanghai in 1941, Characteristics such as uncertainty, superficiality, cynicism and even erotic confusion are keen on the rising stars of the Shanghai School. Even female writers are not immune to the roughness and provocation of the language of the times. For example, Su Qing: "Eat men, women have great desires." ", Zhang Ailing's: "If marriage is to make a living, then marriage is long-term prostitution." This led to the bizarre theory that "a man and a woman are separated from each other and have stomachs" that became popular later, and even disdained the talk of two women resenting the same man for the rest of their lives. Each other lingers and glances at the minutiae of the soul, or it may end in an instant; bats hanging upside down, a line of underworld being sipped, and other ambiguities compete with each other. This is true for gentlemen and beauties, how much more for ordinary people? Therefore, things that cannot be cured may contain eternal genes, just like the densely packed advertisements on the telephone poles in Bashang, which are also the continuous inheritance of a certain culture.

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Liu Xiaodong 2019.8.16 Draft 1.