Works by Wen Xinjie

1

No matter how you say it, the women in western Hubei are beautiful, because there is a rippling Qingjiang River with good water. The water nourishes people, especially women.

The Qingjiang River originates from Lichuan and winds its way through the mountains for 800 miles. There are countless villages and villages on both sides of the river. Women drink Qingjiang water, wash themselves with Qingjiang water, and take photos. The mirror also reflects the water of the Qingjiang River, and I miss the world outside the mountains. Even my thoughts are pinned on the blue waves of the Qingjiang River drifting away from the mountains...

The Qingjiang River flows into the souls of the women in Western Hubei, and blends into the Western Hubei women's souls. The bones of a woman are gone, and the women in western Hubei are as beautiful as Qingjiang.

Of course, the beauty of a woman lies first in her face. The skin is white and tender, and slightly reddish. When the soft light shines on it, it seems to be translucent, like a flashlight covered with red silk. ... No matter how big or small their eyes are, they are always watery, and their lips are always thin. When they smile, they reveal fine white teeth, and occasionally there are tiger teeth. And because Gong Li is famous, she has a bit of charm.

In fact, what really absorbs the essence of Qingjiang is the waist of the woman from Western Hubei. It is as thin as Qingjiang, graceful and graceful, and the floral cloth shirt tightens the waist to show the true beauty. Shape, weeding in the potato fields in the spring, cutting rice in the paddy fields in the autumn, there will always be wind occasionally, lift up a corner of your clothes, your waist will become even thinner, making you worry that it can bear the burden of work Well, of course this worry is unnecessary. The thin waists of women in western Hubei are very strong.

The hands of women in western Hubei are also a concentrated expression of beauty. Their fingers are not as slender as Miss Qianjin’s, but they are also well-proportioned and slender. It is these pairs of hands that use flying needles to weave threads. They made pieces of Xilankapu, which is a popular ethnic handicraft in the market. It was also these hands that made that pair of floral insoles and cloth shoes. On both sides of the Qingjiang River, when men come together, you will see that their feet are all made of corduroy cloth shoes. If it is winter, the men are used to sitting in the fire pit, taking off their cloth shoes to roast their feet. At this time, you take a look at those With the colorful insoles in the cloth shoes, you can imagine what kind of women the Western Hubei women are like and what kind of beautiful hands they have.

Two

Beauty always needs to be displayed, and beauty also needs to absorb nutrients to nourish it.

Therefore, women in western Hubei always love to be lively.

Nowadays, many times there is no movie show. As long as there is a movie show in the village, women are always more active than men. Men say that watching TV is not the same, and women say it is different. Obviously, they are not I haven't read the article "Chinese should support domestic movies" written by experts. Many of them don't know who Zhang Yimou is, but they like watching movies.

When the sun turned to the west, the film team tied ropes to several tree branches and stretched the screen. The speaker tied to the clothes drying pole beside the Xujia rice field also sounded over and over again. Sing, women's hearts are a little hairy, and many plans are brewing and revised over and over again in their hearts. What clothes to wear and what shoes to change are a lot of brain work. When they are worn out, no one will notice. And wearing new clothes is too eye-catching. Women in western Hubei always feel a lot of anxiety and uneasiness when they wear new clothes for the first time. Of course, there is also pride that cannot be concealed, but sometimes, anxiety and uneasiness account for an increasingly large proportion. , so that pride is squeezed out. Therefore, when women have new clothes, they always wear them for a long time, change them out, wear them for another half day, and then change them out again until people are familiar with them, then they wear them out calmly.

The women have finished their work in a hurry before the sun goes down. They cook quickly for fear of being laughed at by the men, and they dare not eat too hastily. Of course, it is impossible to have rich meals in a hurry. After taking down two bowls and saying, "Throw the dishes and chopsticks in the pot, I'll come back to wash them," they went to pack up. Wearing the clothes they had planned and applying different grades of balsam, the women went to the Xu family house.

Of course, he talks a lot. He doesn’t usually tell jokes, but he suddenly became creative, told a joke, and was awarded first and second prizes by everyone. I came into the crowd chattering, my eyes looking everywhere, looking at other people, looking into other people's eyes, and getting the eyes and eyes of the opposite sex. There were a few young and beautiful women who recognized the people in the film team and knew that they had reserved seats. , I squeezed through the crowd and sat on the box with the projector. It was very beautiful. First, it made people feel connected to the people in the film team. Second, it might be more attractive than the screen. This night , their dreams are all about movies.

After all, there are few movies, but there are many weddings and funerals, which are more extensive gathering opportunities for women.

Girls in western Hubei are expected to cry when getting married. Several square tables were set up, and the bride who was about to get married sat in the middle, surrounded by her former friends. They sang a wedding cry song around the bride:

Sisters are dear, sisters are dear

Pick a pomegranate and split it in half

Open the twelve grids of the pomegranate

Sisters who have been reluctant to part with it for many years...< /p>

There are only a few people singing, but the people surrounding them are three floors inside and three floors outside. Those who are married immediately think of the scene of their wedding, and those who are not married will naturally think of next year or the year after. , someone else will have to cry for him. Nowadays, it is all about free love, and the sentimental element of crying marriage is fading away. It is just a ritual, but women still care about it, and they cherish the opportunity to get together.

In the home of a man who picks up his wife, the best time for a woman to show her face is to dance with flower drums. They hold a flower handkerchief and sing while dancing:

A cypress tree at the door< /p>

The white crane flew to rest

The white crane flew away

Flashing broken branches and leaves

Because Huaguzi is composed of several pairs of men and women singing and dancing together , the "actors" were always in high spirits, and it wasn't until midnight that they left one by one and went to talk by the bamboo forest or under the sweet-scented osmanthus tree.

As for the death of a person, of course it is a matter for men. When a person dies in Western Hubei, there is a mourning ceremony. Pairs of men sing and dance in front of the funeral. At this time, women can only be the audience. There were also some very competent spectators. When the mourners took off their clothes after dancing, women would pick them up. Later, when they got their clothes back, they actually had a handkerchief in their pockets. It smelled so good...

三

Women in western Hubei are always timid. As a woman, you must follow the rules, be a good husband and raise children, be a good wife and mother, you may not know these sentences, but you have been taught these principles since childhood. In one sentence, be cautious and cautious, do things honestly, not arrogant, not showing off your talent. She is a good woman.

The epitome of timidity is when interacting with men. I don’t dare to tell, express, or even think about whom I like. I want to strangle this thought in my heart, but I don’t think of that thought. But he took advantage of the opportunity and grew wildly, until he became thin and sick, which frightened his parents and called a doctor. Two or three doses of medicine didn't work, so his father stamped his feet anxiously. After all, my mother had been there, so she took her father away. , sitting on her daughter's bedside, "Have you fallen in love with someone?" The daughter didn't answer, but her tears were like broken beads, and the mother knew in her heart, "Who is it?" "The third son of the Dong family. "After all, the daughter was closer to her mother, so she mustered up the courage to tell the truth. The mother was startled, "I can't do it, I can't do it. During the Cultural Revolution, Dong Sanwazi's grandfather almost fought your grandfather to death. The hatred is still strong! Your father will never agree to this. He should have put an end to this thought long ago. To save yourself from suffering, you think you are the one who suffers when someone is sick and loses weight. Who knows? Even if you know it, others may not appreciate it!"

My mother's words It was a bitter medicine, and my daughter's illness gradually recovered. On the morning of the third day, I went to the hills to weed early in the morning. When the sun rose, my daughter's loud folk songs also rose:

A tree of flowers on the mountain ridge

A good family at the foot of the flower tree...

I am older, I have made friends, the adults on both sides have agreed, we have passed, and we have a drink Even though we were engaged, we were still timid. During festivals and festivals, we walked side by side. When there was no one around, we walked side by side. Whenever there were people, we always walked in front of each other. The distance was still quite far away. In this way, you wait for me and I wait for you. Naturally, he walked very slowly. When it was dark, he passed by a bamboo forest. When the woman was not paying attention, the man held the woman's hand with one hand and put his other hand around her waist. The woman screamed, He scared away the turtle dove that was resting on the tree branch, "You damn thing, before that time comes, you start to use your hands and feet, and let people see you and you won't shame me to death..." After shouting and cursing, the man naturally I lost interest, so I had to move back and walk slowly...

Time passed quietly, and the courage of the women in western Hubei never grew up. Later, some girls were admitted to the county high school. He passed the university again, and when he returned to western Hubei, he always brought back a tall man. They walked on the road, as if they were in a deserted place, pulling and hugging each other, and some people saw them in Guizhu Garden. Kissing became the talk of the village for a while. Within a few days, the topic stopped. From then on, the women began to become bolder, just like some people with extraordinary intelligence. Once they are enlightened, they immediately become extraordinary. In that way, The taste is no worse than that of people in the city.

Later, some women carried small bags and went out to see the world. The outside world is big and exciting. Money grows in the outside world, so they went out to make money. As they earned money, they married rich men. , when he returned to the village, he was dressed in gold and silver, and he was in splendor, and the gifts he brought back to his parents were things that no one in western Hubei had ever seen before...

A great man once said: The gift of role model The power is infinite. As a result, more and more women followed suit, and those who couldn't get into good schools also left one after another. After they left, they rarely came back. Of course, there were also some who came back to set up factories or companies, become female bosses, and intimidate others. She is powerful and powerful, I don’t know if she is still a woman from western Hubei.

Now that I have returned to western Hubei, I can no longer hear folk songs, see no one crying for marriage, and no one is wearing corduroy shoes. Only funerals are coming, because most of the women have left. , the only ones left are men. After all, mourning is a man's way of survival. These single men need to vent and communicate with the few women.

In recent years, I often sit in brightly lit banquet halls, and I always think of a past winter day when I was walking on a snowy night and saw a window with an oil lamp shining through the silk tissue paper. The hazy light reflected a halo on the window paper. A man in the house was reading a volume of the Book of Songs, and the woman sitting next to him was embroidering insoles. I thought it was the warmest, most poetic, most oriental, and most cultural. It's a pity that this scene can only be in dreams now, just like the real woman from western Hubei can only be in dreams now. (Prose)

Back then, the school did not have electric bells, so we would ring bells after class, when we got up and when we went to bed.

Before liberation, there was a special school janitor who would ring the bell. The gentlemen would only focus on teaching and correcting homework, and the janitor would do all other things. It can be seen that the husband's status at that time was high, but of course his status was not all about this. At that time, the principal of a primary school supported a family and hired servants, because there were few scholars at that time and even fewer who could teach. Those who could teach and be the principal They are rare, so they naturally earn more.

After liberation, only the cooks were left in the school, and there were no more school janitors. The teachers cleaned their own offices, turned on the water, and rang the bells themselves. Some teachers couldn't knock the bell well at first. The bell was usually hung on the beam with a long rope hanging down it. The rope was swaying, so they couldn't hit the rhythm. The preparation bell was no different from the school bell, so they had to Judge by the number of times the bell rings.

It is difficult to train by ringing the bell. A school with hundreds of people is commanded by that bell. How can they practice casually?

I heard from adults that at that time there was a female teacher named Huang who had just been transferred from the city. After the first Sunday, all the other teachers went home, so she wanted to take advantage of Sunday to study. Ringing the bell, the wake-up bell, the preparation bell, the class bell, the assembly bell... She consciously sounded a little bit of the smell, but before she could savor the smell, almost all the students in the village ran to the school out of breath, and some Parents also followed. When they heard the bell, they thought something was urgent, so they all ran to the school... At that time, the bell of a school not only commanded the teachers and students of the school, but also became a symbol of special significance for the entire village. Symbol, when the Japanese invaded in 1943, they relied on the school bell to direct the whole village to hide from the Japanese planes. The new teacher Huang did not know this. When he saw the students and parents, he was stunned at first, and then burst into tears. .

At work on Monday, the principal called Teacher Huang: "There are two ways, one is to punish, and the other is to be transferred to the remote Wangjianao."

Teacher Huang packed up his bed. Went to Wangjianao.

From then on, every time a new teacher was brought in, the principal would give him the first lesson, telling him about the sacredness of the school bell and how to ring it.

For me, the sanctity of the school bell does not come from the principal’s explanation, but from a kind of perception.

When I was not in school, every time I heard the school bell ringing, I would have a solemn feeling and a yearning for school. Every morning I would see my older brothers and sisters greeting me. Going to school in the morning sun, the red scarves on their chests fluttered in the wind, and their steps were confident and firm. I was so envious. I watched their figures disappear into the woods in front of the school. After a while, I heard the school bell. , I guess they must be sitting in the classroom right now. Are they reading or writing?

In my childhood, the sound of the school bell was deeply engraved in my mind. Every time I heard the bell, it was like a Buddhist hearing the temple bell, and I immediately felt a sense of pilgrimage. Rising up, a kind of nobility and holiness immediately filled my chest.

Later, I also went to school. The bell not only gave me a feeling like poetry, but also a command to direct my actions. I listened to the bell to go to and from get out of class, go to exercise, and gather. Every time the school bell rang, we sat in the classroom, waiting for the teacher to come to class. Some teachers we liked, some teachers we were afraid of. Our favorite was Teacher Gong who was studying Chinese. She had a pair of long braids. It was fashionable at that time, and her long eyelashes flickered, she read the text in Mandarin, she smiled broadly when she spoke in class, and the ringtone was particularly pleasant every time she took Chinese classes. What we fear most is the physical education teacher. He is a retired soldier. He never smiles. His command can be heard even half a mile away. We are a little afraid of the ringing of the PE bell because of his loud and majestic voice. , whenever there was a whole-school activity, the principal asked him to assemble the entire team. After hundreds of people in the school lined up smoothly, the principal walked up to the podium to speak.

Amidst the melodious and sonorous school bells, I went to elementary school and middle school, and became a private teacher myself. The school I went to naturally had a school bell, but it seemed not as ringing as the bell of my alma mater. The school bell is also hung on the beam, and is also hung with a very long rope. I am afraid that the rope is too long and will not be able to ring the correct rhythm. Every time I am on duty, I stand in the corridor on the second floor to ring the bell. In this way, the rope is short, and the copper bell can be struck in a rhythmic manner.

I was less than 20 years old at the time, and I didn’t go home often on weekends, so I went to nearby schools to hang out with teachers. At Qierpo Primary School, I saw a steel pipe hanging outside the door. At first, I didn’t know what it was for. Teacher Xiao, who teaches here, told me that this is the school bell. There is a steel hook hanging on the earth wall next to the steel pipe. Teacher Xiao said, use it to ring the bell, and said, He picked up the steel hook and demonstrated it again, and the sound was still very loud. Teacher Xiao said that the sound could be transmitted to the other side of the river, which is already the territory of the neighboring county Badong County.

Chenerpo is a small place after all, and the school bell does not have that kind of prestige. I heard Teacher Xiao ringing the bell, but no students were seen rushing to school.

At that time, my uncle was teaching at Qiancailing Primary School, which was also a one-person teaching site. From the principal to the cook, my uncle was the only one. Once, my uncle brought me a letter asking me to eat bacon stewed with fresh meat on Saturday. Mushrooms, of course I was ordered to go. Qiancailing Mountain is very big, and many wild mushrooms grow on the stubble of the trees where firewood has been cut. My uncle often went up the mountain to pick it. I saw another school bell there - an abandoned steel mill, because it was more or less In the shape of a bell, there is no need for a steel bar to be struck. Instead, a length of steel bar is bent into a hook shape and hung in the middle of the steel mill. A rope is tied to the hook. When the bell is struck, it is also pulling the rope like a copper bell, but because of the steel Due to the material of the grinding, the sound is very short, has no lingering sound, and does not have the charm of a copper bell at all.

Later I went to normal school. When I was running the "May 7th" Education Network, almost every production team set up a school. The education director took us normal school students to help with the work. I saw all kinds of There are similar school bells, some hang an old hoe, some hang a rake with a broken tooth, and one school hangs a broken pot upside down...

With the development of the times In the past, school bells gradually withdrew from the stage of history and were replaced by electric bells. At first, they were the kind of electric bells that made a piercing scream. When the electric bell rang, it always felt like a prison break. Later, it developed into a fully automatic one. Later, the bell was changed to All kinds of music, it is said, are very humane. However, such ringtones always lack a cultural meaning, cannot arouse people's attachment to culture, cannot arouse people's philosophical taste for time, and make people lack a kind of life. Consciousness, an emotional experience, is like a variety of mobile phone ringtones. It is never as natural and friendly as the original ringtone of the phone, which can arouse people's desire to receive information and enthusiasm for talking. No matter what, old-fashioned school bells are becoming increasingly rare, so I came up with the idea of ??collecting school bells, copper bells, steel pipes, steel mills, hoes, nails, rakes, iron pots... It's very interesting to collect them one by one. meaningful. I think the most meaningful thing among them is naturally the brass bell of my alma mater.

This summer vacation, I returned to my hometown and went to the school to have a look. This place is no longer a school. The village chief has set up a pig farm here. The copper bell is still there, hanging high on the beam, but the The long rope was no longer there, so naturally it was broken. I told the village chief that I wanted to buy the copper bell. The village chief said that someone tried to steal the bell. The bell was not taken off, and the person fell and was injured. There is no more. People came to pick it, and the village chief asked me how much I would pay. I said two hundred yuan, and the village chief said that he would ask someone to pick it for me in a few days.

A few days later, I went to see the village chief, but he was not there. The gatekeeper told me that the village chief had gone to the city ham company to sell pigs, and the copper bell on the beam was gone. The gatekeeper said, He picked it off and the village chief took it away. The village chief said he would take it to the city and sell it at a good price.

As I stood there, I seemed to hear the sonorous and sweet ringing, but the ringing would never ring here again. The oil-paper umbrella faded out of our lives at some point, quietly.

It was replaced by cloth umbrellas at first, and later by various folding umbrellas.

Later, I saw that oil-paper umbrellas were mostly seen in film and television works, and most of them were in Jiangnan water towns. A pretty woman was walking in the rain alleys of Jiangnan holding an oil-paper umbrella, and on the stone bridge facing her stood a statue like this. A passionate talent like Dai Wangshu... The rain in the south of the Yangtze River is really good. How many seeds of love sprout in the drizzle, and how many lingering emotions are combed in the drizzle. During this period, there is often an inadvertent prop ----- -Oil-paper umbrellas, mostly pink in color, are decorated into a splendid artistic conception among the pink walls and black tiles in the south of the Yangtze River, and among the mist of the water town. The oil-paper umbrella is really a good prop. Once it floated out from the rain alley, it attracted many eyes. They saw the person holding the umbrella crossing the stone bridge, going down the stone steps, and boarding the awning boat. The umbrella was still the same. It was held diagonally just right, and the boat went with the water, gradually getting further and further away in the dense rain. Only the pink color of the oil-paper umbrella was still bright. Of course, it was gradually turned into a little blush by the drizzle, and finally it was in the distance. Everywhere was completely blended into the rain curtain, leaving loss and melancholy written all over the heads of the men sticking out from the window panes.

It’s always rainy in the south of the Yangtze River, so oil-paper umbrellas often hang around in the alleys. Some people catch a glimpse of the beautiful faces under the oil-paper umbrellas, and some are brave enough to make appointments for tea, theater, or gardening. After going back and forth, I actually walked under an oil paper umbrella. I held it with my slender hand and scratched the palm of my hand. The palm of my hand was already a little damp. The hand holding the umbrella was also damp, and I couldn't hold it. When people gathered together, the umbrella fell down the stone steps and rolled straight into the water. It was picked up by the rice washers, dropped the water drops, stood quietly next to the young man and the woman, and walked away with the rice basket... …

In Jiangnan, the oil-paper umbrella is not just a tool for covering the rain. It is indeed a prop in a romantic comedy and the artistic conception of poetry and prose.

Actually, oil-paper umbrellas are not only found in Jiangnan, they are also found in my hometown. Of course, not every household has them, but only those who are rich and live a careful life have them. I remember that my second aunt had an oil-paper umbrella at home. Although her family was not rich, it was still a decent family. There were three people in the family working hard. My second uncle also had tailoring skills, so it was not a difficult financial situation, so the family had an oil-paper umbrella. . The oil-paper umbrella was the second aunt's patent. The second uncle and Brother Zuting always wore bamboo hats with bamboo leaves when going out in the rain. Only the second aunt used the oil-paper umbrella when going out in the rain. At that time, her grandfather was still there, so the second aunt often came to see her father, and most of the time she came when it rained, because it was raining and it was impossible to work, and the time when not working was a good time to cultivate family ties. From a distance, I saw a red oil-paper umbrella moving on the mountain ridge opposite, and I knew it was the second aunt. At this time, my mother hurriedly took a piece of bacon from the fire pit, burned it, washed it, chopped it, and cooked it in a cauldron. The second aunt hadn't arrived yet. She had bound her little feet and was afraid of breaking her oil-paper umbrella, so it was very time-consuming to walk that way. By the time she arrived, the pot of bacon was almost cooked.

Second aunt cherishes her oil-paper umbrella very much. She never lends it to anyone. Every time she uses it, she will open it immediately. If the sun comes out, she will take it out to dry in the sun, but only in the morning. The sun at noon or the evening sun is too strong and can easily cause the paper to become brittle.

No matter how much you cherish it, there will be times when it gets bad. That time, the second aunt fell down on the forest path while holding an umbrella. The oil-paper umbrella was poked by branches and had several small holes. She waited for it. The paper umbrella was dried in the sun, and I quickly found the silk tissue paper (we call it parchment paper) that is used to cover the windows and patched the holes. I also asked Brother Zuting to go to school and ask the teacher for a tube of red ink to dye the patch red. I wanted to find it again. He tried some tung oil, but he couldn't find it. Someone taught him a traditional method - pick two immature tung seeds, pinch the small tips, and apply the oily substance that flows out. In the repaired area, the second aunt had just put away the oil-paper umbrella with satisfaction and put it into the cloth bag specially made for her by the second uncle.

On the Dragon Boat Festival that year, my second aunt brought bread to my grandfather. At that time, we had just gotten back a half-grown white dog from my grandmother’s house. It didn’t recognize my second aunt yet. The dog pounced on the rice field. In desperation, the second aunt used an oil-paper umbrella to block it, but the dog tore a hole in the oil-paper umbrella. You can imagine how angry the second aunt was and hurriedly took out an oil-paper umbrella from the pile of firewood. How could a woman with small feet chase a dog if she had to chase the dog with a stick? The failure to chase and beat her further intensified her anger. She cursed and said some very unpleasant things. Her mother was about to have a fit, but her father endured it and even compensated her second aunt a lot for selling the eggs. After collecting enough money to buy her a new one, the second aunt said nothing more. The dog also slept in the kennel in the fire pit as if nothing had happened. No one expected that the second aunt would suddenly attack. She hit it with a stick suddenly, and she hit it so hard. The white dog screamed, got up and ran away, but it She couldn't run fast anymore, and one of her hind legs could no longer touch the ground. My mother couldn't tolerate it anymore, so she scolded the second aunt, who stood up and left. The Dragon Boat Festival was ruined in this way.

Since then, the second aunt has not come to our house for several years. From now on, my grandfather always sends the second uncle or the ancestral brother to come.

Later she became ill, and became more and more seriously ill. We went to see her, and my mother also went and brought her two umbrellas, one was the broken one and the other was It was a new one we bought. The second aunt kept the old one but didn't want the new one. She held my mother's hand and said loving words over and over again, until my mother burst into tears.

It has been several years since my second aunt passed away. Every rainy day, I always see her staggering around holding an oil-paper umbrella.

Oil-paper umbrellas always sway in the artistic conception of hometown.