Chapter 4 Anti-Rightist Memoirs (4) - Building a "Palace" in the Valley of the Mountains

One bird leaves the nest, and a hundred birds move to the nest. Cui Zhenguo and Wang Fuyang left Beijing in early August, and we, the rightists who were reformed in Kyoto, packed up our bags and "returned home" in the second half of the month.Of course, those of us who have been classified as separate books, the urban area is by no means a permanent place to stay.On September 17, the luggage was reloaded onto the truck.To the west—and then to the west—along the Shizier Highway around the mountains, you enter the Tanzhe Temple surrounded by mountains.I lived in the temple for more than a month, and worked as a strong worker in building mountains and roads.After the road was repaired, the truck pulled us west—and then west—into the sparsely populated Alpine Dadong.Although it is only a hundred miles away from Beijing, due to the overlapping of mountains, one mountain after another formed a long canyon. After the Japanese occupied Beijing in the war of aggression against China, their footprints did not go to this big valley. .We walked through the mountains for a long time, and the truck broke down in a valley called "Yidan Shigou"—we came to another transformation station.

Don't look at the desert and loneliness here, but there are a few cotton tents on the edge of the terraced fields.On both sides of the bumpy mountain road, there are still debris such as bricks, tiles, sand and stones, carved beams and painted columns.The next day, we heard people say that a municipal committee sanatorium was going to be built here, and we road builders were going to change jobs to become infrastructure workers.The beams and wood with mottled paint leather on the side of the road are the old materials of the houses that were dismantled when Tiananmen Square was expanded.

"Beijing Daily" agency.The Beijing branch of the Xinhua News Agency and the old right of the Beijing Publishing House were broken into pieces during the rural transformation.At this time, they reunited here again.In addition to those familiar partners in the "Zhuangyuan Mansion", there are more rightists from the Beijing Municipal Committee of the Communist Party of China, the Youth League Municipal Committee, the municipal trade union, and the Municipal Women's Federation.Among them are the "old revolutionary rightists" Wang Zhicheng and Ye Xiangzhong, and the "new revolutionary rightists" Bai Zucheng, Li Jianhua, Liang Xianghan, Xue Deshun, Zhong Hong, and Zhang Dunli from various departments of the municipal party committee; An Fushun, Jiang Jinan, and Wang Yicheng from the municipal trade union system; Li Qi from the system, and Huang Muyao and Zhang Yongjing from the Youth League Committee system.Wang Meng.The number of rightists has increased sharply, enough to form a company.

When I saw Wang Meng for the first time, he seemed to have lost weight again, which made his body like a bamboo pole even taller.He was classified as a rightist, and he flipped the pancake several times: it was marked, and it was overthrown again; it was overthrown, and it was marked again.After several rounds of repetition, mental torture can be imagined.During the anti-rightist period, the only time I met him was at a meeting to criticize Liu Shaotang. At that time, he was still playing the role of a positive figure, but the good times did not last long, and bad luck soon came to him. "How about it, brother!" I never expected to meet him in this big ravine.

"Same as you," he said, "how else would we get here to party?" "Are you still writing?" "I'm quitting that business. After moving to the right, I asked to make a living by myself, such as selling candied haws on the street, but they didn't approve!" I thought he was telling a joke, so I laughed.He didn't smile. "Occupational diseases are difficult to cure, and I still have the urge to create." I said. "Forget it! Stop being sentimental. I don't want to! I just want to be a good earth repairman!" To be honest, although I didn't think Wang Meng's answer was sincere at the time, I understood it.After the anti-rightist struggle, many people instinctively put on a strange protective color.Just like the withered hair of cunning is almost the withered yellow of withered grass, and the bark of cicadas is the same color as the brown bark.I was no exception. When I submitted the year-end thought reform summary to the newspaper society, I wrote a paper full of flattery words for the Great Leap Forward. The real me was wrapped in a thick coat, and the shadow—even Show things that are not as good as shadows to those who manage us.Even so, I still felt that Wang Meng was wrapped up more tightly than me, as if he was serious, and he really came to this mountain to realize his enlightenment and become a Buddha immediately.Only at night did he reveal a little of his true feelings.I used to be next to him on the floor. When he got into the cold bed, he would often take out a two-two-pack of flat wine bottles and hand them to me, whispering to him:

"Hey! Let's take a bite to drive away the cold!" Sometimes I politely declined, but sometimes I took the bottle unceremoniously, and sipped at the mouth of the bottle.He also seemed to care about hygiene and insanity. He wiped the mouth of the bottle twice with his hand, and drank the wine in the flat bottle in one breath. He came and went without being rude. Sometimes I also buy a bottle of wine, and borrow it to keep out the cold like this. , use wine to drown your sorrows. I remember that it was the night when the first heavy snow fell in the Dashangou. I took out a large bottle of Huzhou Erqu and stuffed it full.After warming my belly with wine, I said:

"Mr. Lu Xun has a few poems, do you still remember?" "The wet (poetry) has become dry, maybe I can still remember it." I recited: "...an old hat hides one's face through the busy city, and a broken boat carries wine to the middle class." He didn't catch up with me, and jokingly said, "I also need to tell you something, brother: the woods are huge, and there are all kinds of birds here!" After the riddle-like words were over, he turned his head and fell asleep. This is a spiritual portrait of Wang Meng drawn to the right.He seems to know everything, and he seems to know nothing; he seems to be sleeping with his eyes closed, but he is actually looking around with his eyes open. It is better to say that he is quite alert to this cruel world than that he shows inhuman cruelty.The subtext in his words seemed to warn me to understand the objective environment.Perhaps, at that time, he had already discovered that there was some kind of tragic precursor hidden in me? !

(After 40 years, Wang Meng told me that one year after the publication of (Towards Chaos), his son Wang Shan asked him: "Dad, did you look like the one written in 'Chaos' back then?" Wang Meng's family was having a New Year's Eve dinner at that time, and while drinking, he replied to his son, "Yes, just like what Weixi wrote." The son wanted to ask him something, but when he saw that he was crying, he dared not ask any more). There are not only dozens of rightists here, but also cadres from various departments of the municipal party committee who come to work in turn.Countless pairs of eyes are watching us.

"One day equals twenty years!" "I'm unwilling to surpass Yingmei!" Such eye-catching slogans are posted on the rocks. From time to time, the loudspeaker sang very beautiful and absolutely romantic songs: Lighting without oil Cultivate land without cattle walk carelessly apple bump head Swept by the wave of the Great Leap Forward, this remote mountain valley often looks like a busy city.The sound of drilling into the mountain, the sound of breaking rocks with oil hammers, and the sound of rumbling explosions can be heard every day.The stone materials for building the house are obtained from the mountains, the lime for joint joints is burned by ourselves, and the back baskets for carrying the stones up the mountain are made by ourselves.In addition to the infrastructure task of building the official palace in the mountain, the rightists and the cadres who came to work in rotation also took on the task of planting fruit trees on the surrounding terraced fields.

Burning the midnight oil is commonplace.I was originally assigned to the infrastructure construction team. The job I did in the night battle was to pick up river pebbles from the bottom of the ditch with Liang Xianghan (a member of the Beijing Municipal Commission for Discipline Inspection in the 1980s), and carry them up the mountainside with baskets, and pile them on the lot where the house was built for future use. After dawn the next day, fill the trench with these pebbles.The arduous nature of this labor needs no description.Because climbing the mountain with bare hands is still out of breath, carrying hundreds of catties of pebbles in a basket, the whole body is sweating on the stones, there is really no exaggeration.In the middle of the night, I put on sweaty underwear and got into the cold bed, and it was dawn as soon as I closed my eyes.

Except for the devolved cadres and female rightists, all live in cotton tents here.The floor was half a foot high from the ground, and the bed was cold and damp.Every morning when I woke up, a thin layer of hoarfrost had formed on the top of the tent—it was formed by the condensation of the air of the old right men.There was no fire, no moisture-proof equipment, and the ice cones hanging from the tent were half a foot long for three or nine days in midwinter. We were like lying in an ice nest.Therefore, when we sleep, we almost always wear hats.What's more, a towel is wrapped around the neck and a mask is worn on the nose. Chinese intellectuals really have the tenacity of old cows.It was only when he came here that he realized that Zhang Yongjing (later the director of the Beijing Broadcasting Bureau) was a literary genius, and he actually composed a song called "Song of a Load of Stone Ditch".The first stanza of the lyrics reads: There are many stones in a stone ditch rock full hillside The rapids beat the rocks and the spring water is good The stone path into the clouds rises to war song Immediately someone composed it to a tune, so this song was often sung before rightist meetings or during parties with lowered cadres.You sing, he sings, I sing... Later it became a popular song of Lao You. This may be the vivid portrait of Chinese intellectuals.Carrying a heavy black cross on his body, wearing an invisible-but more powerful "tight hat" on his head, carrying a stone basket on his shoulders that exceeds the normal load of the human body, and singing lyrical and heroic songs Song. Thinking deeply at night, I don't know whether this spirit is the perseverance that should be praised, or the hero Ah Q described by Lu Xun extended the braids to the heads of Chinese intellectuals, making them people without braids. A new type of Ah Q.The reason why I have keen associations is also due to a certain dissection of my own mentality. For example, in addition to the constant rotation of the rightists - working from day to night and from night to day, the rightists often organize competitions spontaneously.Just after the new year, the weather was so cold that dripping water turned into ice, and even the unfrozen mountain springs were surrounded by a layer of smooth ice.At this time, we organized a labor competition to carry water up the mountain to irrigate the fruit trees.The mountain roads are winding and the shoulder poles are trembling. Every rightist is afraid of losing his name, so they all strive to be the first.In order to improve efficiency, some do not take the path on the way home, but jump off the cliff and take the road.That day, the northwest wind was blowing at level 5 or 6, and I was stripped so that only my sweat vest and thin long johns were left on me, and hot sweat was still pouring out of my pores.The strange thing is that when I was lying in the cold and damp tent, I actually had poetic emotions.From memory, the poem reads: Howling like a tiger Fallen leaves all over the mountain Boulder Frozen Mouth The old tree blows and bends over Thirty-ninth winter hates the heat Bare arms and bare chest to carry the water Fountain of sweat pours out ice and frost singing all the way laughing all the way This poem was interspersed in the rightist "poetry chorus" and performed at the party.In order to express our steadfastness in reformation, the cartoonist Li Binsheng and I imitated the laughter of the late Peking Opera celebrity Ye Shenglan, showing our extraordinary spirit of carrying water up the mountain.Are feelings hypocritical?Quite pious.Is it self-expression in order to show positivity?Absolutely not, almost all the rightists went into battle that day, and Wang Meng was no exception.But the higher the degree of piety, the more Ah Q genes hidden in the blood of Chinese intellectuals! What's especially sad is that even if you have a high level of piety, those who manage and supervise the reform of the rightists will use the magic weapon of "class struggle can be effective" to measure it, and they will think your piety is adulterated.It is among the rightist groups, because they all want to show this kind of piety, strive to get rid of the rightist hat as soon as possible, and return to the people's team, so they often use their own piety to slander other people's piety, or use other people's piety as a stepping stone, and use camels to run among sheep. Showing his superhuman transformation piety.Therefore, "rebellion in the nest" incidents emerge in endlessly, and the people who do this kind of activity are often the appointed rightist "leaders".Among them, the most typical example is the experience of cartoonist Li Binsheng.Li Binsheng is a man of many talents. Not only can he draw cartoons, but he is also an expert in Peking opera and a magician.He is extremely intelligent, and belongs to the type of great wisdom and foolishness. In the spring of 1959, he was ordered to drive a donkey across the mountains to Zhaojiatai to pick up green onion seedlings for transplanting into our vegetable garden.One of his ignorance: He just led the donkey by the reins for tens of miles of mountain roads, and didn't ride on the donkey's back for a second.He believes that the rightists should practice foot skills hard and unconditionally self-denial and serve the public.The second stupidity: when he returned to Yidan Shigou exhaustedly from Zhaojiatai with several baskets of green onion seedlings, something troubled his brain. The onion basket was heavy on one side and light on the other.Due to the uneven load on the donkey, the center of gravity always tilts to one side when walking on the mountain road.Li Binsheng wanted to untie the rope and tie it up again, but the people in the mountains tied a tight knot. Although Li Binsheng could easily perform the illusion of "immortal undressing" on the stage, he couldn't untie the rope. When the honest cartoonist was at his wit's end, he used both hands to support the heavy basket leaning to one side.The donkey was walking on a serious mountain road, and he walked sideways across the trees beside him.The mountain road was rugged and long, and he was willing to be the guard and assistant of the donkey, stumbling across the mountains and ridges, and he insisted on transporting the onion seedlings back to the "Yidan Shigou".Logically speaking, the cartoonist's performance is not rewarded, at least it is not a mistake in the transformation, right?But later, at a meeting to criticize Li Binsheng, the rightist "leader" surnamed Tang yelled at him: "Do you think this is some kind of transformation achievement? At best, it's just donkeyism!" "Donkey humanitarianism is a variant of humanitarianism!" "Your bourgeois rightist position will not change!" "You have a ferocious face, what kind of Avalokitesvara is you pretending to be!" It was a sad and unforgettable "New Trend of Class Struggle" criticism meeting. There are two reasons: 1. When Li Binsheng went to Zhaojiatai for the second time to paint street paintings for fellow villagers, he said that the Great Leap Forward must be fat and strong. Second, when Li Binsheng painted palace lanterns for the first official hall (named auditorium) completed in "Yidan Shigou", the daffodil leaves on the palace lanterns were painted black.Li Binsheng was attending his mother's funeral at that time, and was ordered to pick up a brush and paint immediately after returning from the capital to the mountains. The "leader" said that the ink-colored lines were a memorial to his deceased mother, rather than an auspicious celebration.From this, it can be deduced that Li Binsheng has two hearts with the party and the people, and his madness must be defeated. Li Binsheng had just returned from a funeral, his face was pale and thin.He explained again and again, "The cattle in Zhaojiatai are inherently thin" and "The leaves of daffodils are suitable for expression in brown ink", but his pious and stupid explanations are weak as gossamer in the stormy condemnation, not only It does not serve as an explanation, but instead heats up the venue: "You fart—" "The cattle in the commune are fat and strong. If you draw thin, you have evil intentions!" "This is a matter of position, it only shows that you are extremely reactionary!" "Your mother is dead, and you put chopsticks in the bowl on the table at home, which is clearly advocating feudalism!" The rightist "leader" who lived in the same courtyard as Li Binsheng's family reported, "We don't need to ask about your appearance at home; On the palace lanterns of our new auditorium, the flowers and leaves are painted in jet black. We have to ask. What is your attitude towards our general line, the Great Leap Forward, and the three red flags? Why don’t you use warm and bright colors, but use jet black? It’s obvious. , you are taking this opportunity to vent your dissatisfaction with the socialist system, dissatisfaction with the reconstruction of Yidan Shigou, and dissatisfaction with our construction of a municipal sanatorium in the mountainous area. Let me tell you, you must be honest about these issues!" The "leader" spoke, of course, has the power of appeal, and someone immediately proposed to adjust his attitude first: "Look down!" "Tell him to bow—" Before the activists came up and pressed his neck forcibly, Li Binsheng staggered and fell to the concrete floor.That image is like a "push-up" performed by a gymnast.But he didn't get up again, sweat was dripping on his pale cheeks, his lips were chewing like a cow chewing cud, and balls of self-foam flowed out from the corners of his mouth. What happened suddenly at the criticism meeting brought a moment of silence to the frenzied atmosphere.People stretched their necks and looked at Li Binsheng who was lying curled up on the ground. Some people showed obvious sympathy in their eyes, and some people looked at each other in dismay.Obviously, the good factors in human nature are expanding, while the hatred and evil in human nature are receding. At this moment, the rightist "leader" shouted loudly: "Everyone, don't be fooled by Li Binsheng. He once told me that when he was a child, he used this kind of suspended animation tactic to fool the Japanese; today, he used it again. To use the strategy of pretending to be a dead dog, we must have a high degree of awareness of the enemy's situation, and we must not let go of our fighting spirit!" This "leader" is a Hunan ghost.He attended a military cadre school when he was young, and later escaped from the military cadre school. When the anti-rightists criticized him in 1957, they said he speculated on the revolution.At that time, I still had some sympathy for him, but since this meeting to criticize Li Binsheng, I really think he is a bit of an opportunist.Li Binsheng had fainted and fell to the ground. Anyone with a little conscience would restrain his attitude, but this "leader" showed full ferocity.What's more, he and Li Binsheng live in the same courtyard, they are both colleagues in the newspaper office and neighbors in the same courtyard, so why do they want to kill people so viciously and quickly? (This person was the first to remove his right hat at the end of 1959 by rectifying rightists; after the "Cultural Revolution" began, his wife died unjustly, and he borrowed the dead man's speculation to write a letter to a big man at that time, and the whole country was flying to rebel against him. When his wife's bones were still cold, Then he lived with other women, and has not resumed his party membership so far). Li Binsheng, who was lying on the ground, woke up after a short period of fainting.He stood up with difficulty, wiped the foam from his mouth, stretched his neck and lowered his head, and said reverently: "I...I am guilty! I...I accept everyone's criticism." The criticism meeting, which was paused for a moment, resumed.According to Li Binsheng’s recollection, when criticizing him at that time, he used an image metaphor used by the same kind, which he will never forget: “Li Binsheng! You are a piece of yeast among the rightists, influencing and poisoning this group all the time. Today we criticize you, it is Eliminating your fermentation!" "Is the cow in Zhaojiatai really as thin as you drew?" "No." Li Binsheng replied weakly. "Then why did you intentionally paint it as a lean cow?" Li Binsheng was criticized in turn for more than an hour, and the meeting was declared over.This is the most impressive criticism meeting in my career as a rightist.The anti-rightist struggle told me that intellectuals are very cruel to punish intellectuals; this meeting also enlightened me that the rightists who destroy the conscience and punish the rightists are ten times more cruel than the strife between intellectuals.I didn't speak at that meeting, not because I didn't want to be pious, but because there were too many pious people, it was not my turn to show piousness.No wonder Wang Shouqing, who was sleeping next to me on the bunk (due to the continuous formation of rightists, Wang Meng and I were scattered to other tents), lay in the cold bed at night, cursing softly: "Damn, what are you doing? Aren’t Tang ×× and ××× not born from his mother’s belly? Did they pop out from the cracks in the rocks like Monkey King?’” "What do you mean?" "Li Binsheng fainted, and they still fucking stepped on people. I suspect their hearts are not made of meat." I whispered, "Conscience is worthless here." "My goddamn—" Wang Shouqing said, "If I were Li Binsheng, I would jump up and fight with those guys! Fighting to the death is enough for one, and knocking down two earns one." "Stop it." I was afraid of hearing his bloody words. This combat hero on the battlefield back then often told me that he had lived too long and scolded himself for not being shot in the Liberation War.I have no doubts about the sincerity of his words, because when we lay side by side on the floor bunk, he would always be smoking cigarettes and staring at the tent with straight eyes. I have a very close friendship with him.Among the rightists, he appears to be the poorest. A woolen trousers, a red sweater, a grass-yellow shabby cotton coat, and a pair of big-toed shoes are all his winter clothes.Once, after returning from a night battle, when he took off his shoes and climbed onto the floor, I found that his feet were bare, so I gave him 10 yuan and told him to buy two pairs of thick-threaded socks to put on.He didn't refuse, but I found that he didn't buy socks to wear, but bought cigarettes to smoke.I am very dissatisfied with this.He explained to me: When I was a child, I was used to suffering. I could bear it with bare feet and cotton shoes, but I couldn't bear it without smoking.And I am eighteen dollars a month... "Isn't your lover helping you?" I asked. "I'm just worrying about his mother's business!" "What's going on?" I asked. At first, he shook his head and sighed repeatedly, but in the end, he still revealed his heart.He told me that the man who pursued him at the beginning proposed to divorce him now. "You're a man!" I suggested to him to cut off the relationship between his son and daughter with a knife. "I can't do it," he said. "Take out your toughness in fighting Japan!" "It's two different things. I can give up everything, but it's hard to let go of her. In this respect, I'm a soft bone!" He confessed firmly and sincerely. Another patient with schizophrenia, I think breaking up someone's marriage is detrimental to morality-although I don't appreciate his attitude, I still keep silent on this matter.Maybe that lady could be inspired by Wang Shouqing and change her mind, because they already had a baby at that time. But soon something unexpected happened to me——Wang Shouqing didn’t come back for a few days after returning to the city for a vacation, and my heart seemed to be hollowed out. I always hoped that he would return early, one day, two days... ...More than ten days have passed, and he has not returned to the valley.Ask the rightists in the publishing house, and no one knows the reason why he did not return to the team.One day, when the rightists were studying intensively, the "leader" announced the circumstances of Wang Shouqing's crime: because his wife was getting divorced, he wiped his neck with a razor blade, and the organization rescued him mercilessly. After he regained consciousness, he complained that the organization sent him to the hospital And go on a hunger strike. Later, the "leaders" of the right faction gathered the rightists for a meeting, and the "leaders" announced that Wang Shouqing's vain attempt to fight the reform with his death was an act of completely severing himself from the people.Wang Yuan's work unit decided to send him to reeducation through labor.Then, the "leader" listened to each rightist talk about their understanding and feelings.The venue was stunned.Numbly.uproar.Most of the people here are cultural cadres. Of course, there is no shortage of criticisms against the king, and the meeting was not announced until late at night. At that time, it was late spring and early summer, and the stream in Yidan Shigou was already gurgling. On the sunny hillside, the vegetation was sprouting, and nature was giving vitality to all things.But Wang Shouqing, the great Shanxi man, disappeared from our group in the season when the spring grass dyed the green valley like a morning star falling before dawn. I feel very melancholy, but it's just melancholy, I can't protect myself!In addition, during the climax of the Great Leap Forward in 1959, the overload of human body parts often made people's nerves numb and sluggish.But what I didn't expect was that Wang Shouqing was just the beginning, and it was none other than my wife Zhang Hu who followed. This is a heart-throbbing painful memory.In the early morning of midsummer, I just took my sickle and rope and was going to go up the mountain to cut thorns to prepare materials for my partner in the basket weaving team (Wang Meng’s labor task was to weave baskets at that time), when I was suddenly called away by the "headman".He said, "Don't go up the mountain, prepare to go back to the city!" "What's up?" "Something happened to Zhang Hu!" He replied flatly, "Director Wang will tell you later!" I didn't see Director Wang, but I saw (Beijing Daily) correspondent looking around at the door of the team office. A motorcycle was parked beside him. He spotted me and immediately waved to me and said, "Hey! Get in the car! I I'm looking for you!" "What's going on?" "Sit down and talk." "I'll talk to Director Wang." "No, I'll ask for leave for you!" Chaotic chaos, like the thick fog that wanders in the mountains on a summer morning, covering my eyes and my heart.I put my arms around the driver's waist and asked him with the loudest voice, but he just replied in the same way: "She is sick, don't worry, it doesn't matter."The correspondent arrived at this valley early in the morning, and he would not come here at night if there was no urgent matter.It is more than a hundred miles away from Beijing, half of which are winding mountain trails, which are very difficult to walk. Presumably this enthusiastic correspondent left the city in the early morning. The only one who knows Zhang Hu other than herself is me.She was very pessimistic after going to the right, especially after her father and younger brother also went to the right, her mood was extremely bad.In the days of weaving a load of stone ditch baskets, she said to me: "Weixi, my work is lighter than yours, but my heart is more tired than yours. Sometimes I really feel tired of work, anyway, I gave birth to you for you." A son..." At that time, I always comforted her, told her to open up a bit, and used the old saying "there is no unparalleled road" to persuade her.She was silent, and later she became pregnant, and her mood became even more melancholy. In the letters sent from home to Yidan Shigou, puns such as "I'm tired from walking" often appeared.I have no way to recover, so I can only reply to her with empty comfort, but I didn't expect that she would really bid farewell to this world. The mountain wind rang in my ears, and the winding mountain road seemed longer than before.I remembered what she whispered to me on this winding mountain road half a year ago: "Weixi! It doesn't matter, just get two stitches and everything will be fine!" "This is enough to prove that we have never done anything wrong, otherwise, you will become a one-eyed dragon!" That was what happened when I was carrying stones: That day, the sound of the cannon that opened the mountain had just sounded, and I carried a basket of stones on my back and passed through the area where the cannon was fired.In order to transport the stones to the construction site as soon as possible, I walked quickly among the chaotic rocks.Unexpectedly, the flakes that had just been blown off were purely imaginary stones. As soon as I stepped on it, I sank into it. The sharp sharp stone scratched my leg, and at the same time, my head fell forward heavily.Not bad, the stone rolled out of the back basket didn't hit the back of my head, but the grinning stone flake pierced into my eye socket.When I stood up in a daze, my face was already covered in blood. I was put on a jeep and drove to Mentougou Hospital. Sitting next to me was Zhang Hu, who was weaving baskets at the time. It was Wang Meng who told her that I had an accident.She put down the thorns in her hand, and ran to the jeep without taking off her apron. On the road around the mountain, she covered my blood-stained face with a towel, and said words of reassurance to me. It's really God's grace, if the sharp rock is moved down by one centimeter, I will become a one-eyed dragon.The doctor gave me anesthesia, shaved off my eyebrows, washed the wound, and finally sewed four stitches in the eye socket.The right-wing wife supported the right-wing husband, who had one eye covered with a bandage, and squeezed onto the bus into the city. Still on this mountain road, what is running is not a four-wheeled jeep, but a two-wheeled motorcycle.There is no need to ask, Zhang Hu's fate must be more or less ominous.I remained silent, but the correspondent couldn't bear the coldness of the mountain road, and finally told me: "Zhang Hu suddenly went into shock the night before, and found a bottle of sleeping pills next to her pillow. suicide!" "Have you been rescued?" "Until the time I left here, she hadn't woken up yet." "Are you still breathing?" "Very weak!" "Is there any hope of surviving?" The correspondent did not answer. I cried, silent tears.I started to hate myself.Because when I went back to the city to rest more than two months ago, she told me that she was pregnant.After the anti-rightist struggle, she almost lost interest in sex between husband and wife, but I failed to understand her mood and unilaterally demanded sex.She said that I was becoming more and more brutal, which was the degeneration of intellectuals.I agree with her judgment of me, but I don't think it is very comprehensive.Just imagine: a person who deals with non-speaking stones on the mountain every day, will not get warm love at home, and his heart will become as dry as thatch on the mountain in autumn.isn't it? When the motorcycle drove into the busy city and crossed Chang'an Avenue, I cast a glance at Tiananmen Square with a heart.The portrait of Chairman Mao is still the same as usual, smiling at me, solemn and kind.He may not have imagined that in the blink of an eye in 1957, how many families were broken up like atomic nuclei. Those Chinese sons and daughters who followed the red flag in the flames of war in the past are being killed by political campaigns again and again in the peaceful years. Killed by stray bullets! In the emergency room of the No. 6 Hospital of the city, I was stunned at first, and then rushed to the sick bed.She was lying under a white quilt, her face was blue and yellow, I put my ear under her nose, but it was hard to hear her breathing.I cried like a child.A nurse in white next to me persuaded: "Calm down, this is a hospital!" My father-in-law also comforted me and said: "Ah Hu's heart is still beating, and there is still hope for life. Even if the rescue fails, you must deal with life and death rationally." "She's been pregnant for several months, and it's two lives at stake!" "I know." Father-in-law looked sad. "Is there still hope?" I seemed to be looking for a lifebuoy in the vast sea, "It's okay to go bankrupt!" My father-in-law was silent for a while thoughtfully, then called me outside the ward, and told me: "The hospital only knows that you are a rightist reformed in the suburbs, and they don't know Ah Hu's identity as a rightist. Once they know that she is also a rightist, Chinese and Western medicine consultations may give up. You have to control your emotions to avoid complications." "I remember." "Also, you have to remember the idiom 'If you come, you will be safe'. Even if Hu is really gone, don't be too sad!" My father-in-law still had the heart to enlighten me. I couldn't bear the old man's thoughts in my heart, so tears burst out of my eyes.He took out a handkerchief and stuffed it in my hand, looked at me seriously and said: "Since childhood, this is not the time when children love each other, and we have to face the harsh reality. In order to find a spiritual outlet for myself, I often pretend that Ah Hu When he was in the underground party in Shanghai, he had already dedicated himself to the revolution!" "No, she still has hope!" I said. "Yeah! Think of the worst when things happen." "yes." "I'm leaving, you stay here!" The old man staggered away.I walked him all the way out of the hospital gate.This short journey seemed extremely long to me. The life and death of people, the right and wrong of history, collided in my mind.Fighting together—because the elders walking beside me may still have dust from the time when they went to Yan’an in the folds of their clothes, and the green grass pulp stains on the pair of cloth shoes—Jianguo is only seven or eight years old. In 2010, this old man also became a counter-revolutionary rightist!How to comment on the turbidity of this world? ! In the afternoon of the same day, Liang Shajun and Xin Daming, who stayed in the newspaper office for renovation, rushed to the ward to see Zhang Hu.Everyone's complexion was iron, and they were speechless to each other.From the time I left Yidanshigou to the time when I didn’t have any food or water, my mental pain completely suppressed my sense of hunger and thirst.It was Xin Daming who was on duty for a while before my sick bed, and I went to a restaurant near Beixinqiao to eat a bowl of cold noodles.After that, I hurried home and saw my mother and her two-year-old son.The mother wanted to cry because the disaster came again; the son didn't know what was going on, and kept calling me: "Daddy hug me——Daddy hug me——" My youngest son and I were face-to-face close together, and tears immediately soaked his little face. "Grandma! Daddy's crying!" he cried. "Dad, don't cry, can you catch the dragonflies in the yard for me?" I was silent and just hugged him tighter. "Mom is sick, have you visited her in the hospital?" You may not have a mother—I thought to myself. "Mom made me a boat out of colored paper two days ago!" She may have drifted away in the desolate sea—I thought. My son sucked the tears on my face with hot tender red lips: "Dad! Don't cry! Mom said that crying is not a good child!" I put down my youngest son, settled down with my mother, and hurried back to the Sixth Hospital. The Sixth Hospital was originally named Daoji Hospital, and it was run by the American Presbyterian Church (belonging to the Catholic Church) before liberation—this is how many years after Xiao Qian read " Towards Chaos told me after the first part.The doctors and nurses here match the name of this hospital. They organized a consultation with Zhang Hu in the afternoon and confirmed that Zhang Hu was on the verge of death due to taking nearly a hundred sleeping pills. Several rescue methods were proposed. Finally, a famous Chinese medicine doctor Mr. Zong Weixin proposed to use the traditional Chinese medicine antelope horn to detoxify, and there may be a glimmer of hope.But the hospital did not have such expensive medicines. Mr. Zong wrote a note for me, telling me to go to Xihe Niantang on Xidan North Street to look for it. Can buy a little.At that time, it was already 9 o'clock in the evening. I called Comrade Zhou You and asked the newspaper office for help.Around midnight, I bought the medicine, and the doctor boiled it immediately, pried open Zhang Hu's tightly closed teeth, and poured it into his stomach.At about 9 o'clock in the morning of the next day, Zhang Hu's breathing was obviously intensified, and near 12 noon, she let out a long sigh from her chest: "Alas—" followed by an incoherent cry in a sleepy voice: "...I want to Falling off the department store! I'm scared! I'm scared! I'm scared! Catch me!" I laughed -- despite the bitterness in my heart. I thank the doctors and nurses again and again.A special tribute to Dr. Zong.Joy, but not without sorrow.According to what the nurse told me, Zhang Hu took a lot of sleeping pills. Although his life was saved, he may have lifelong sequelae, such as dementia.Of course, if she becomes a person who has lost her memory and forgets everything in the past, it will be a permanent relief for her mental pain.But I, as her husband, would rather she live soberly with another huge trauma.I also don't want her to become a humanoid animal or vegetable who knows no pain.And all of this cannot be undone by manpower, only resignation to fate... As a woman who reproduces life among human beings, it is indeed much more painful than a man.Zhang Hu's life was still very weak after waking up, and he was about to undergo stillbirth induction.She was very afraid of this, and asked me to wait outside the clinic of the hospital at the moment when she induced labor.This requirement is too low for me.至今，我不知是哪颗福星高照之故，张沪拖着瘦弱的身子居然过了这一道道鬼门关，除去留下时常发作的头痛之外，还保留下了健康的神经。 是出于感情，也出于赎罪之愿望，我雇了一名特别护士，和我日夜倒班护理着她。当时，我的稿费虽已快花光，但是再穷也得对得起天良。时正盛夏，她因不能翻身，后背长了褥疮，但其他部位都在逐渐康复。在这段日子里，我每天去医院时都给她带一个西瓜解暑。月余时间，竟练就了挑西瓜的本领，因而每次用刀切开西瓜，张沪都惊异他说：“这西瓜真好。” 她身体一天比一天好，我的情绪也水涨船高。但是我们一想到未来，都感到茫茫然而不可知。是为了逃避对未来的思索之苦，也是为了不虚掷光阴，在看护张沪之余，我开始了长篇小说《第一片黑土》的写作（即历经了二十多年之后，北京十月文艺出版社出版的《北国草》原型）。我怀念我的同时代青年朋友，他们为了开垦北国荒原，自愿组成了北京青年垦荒队，去冰铺雪盖的黑龙江三江荒原上开垦荒地。尽管此时的我，已被历史划入了另册，但对民族和祖国炽热的火焰，并未完全熄灭，我觉得我应该画出一幅幅肖像，才对得起这些北京的儿女们。 我自知看护张沪的时间不会太长，一旦返回一担石沟就再没有笔耕时间，所以我在家里拼命地写，然后到医院去打盹。大约有个把月的工夫，写满了3个大本本，估算一下约有26万字的样子。其中，每张纸页上都有汗水浸湿的水圈斑痕。张沪病愈出院时，我的小说已接近了收尾，我和张沪一起去向第六医院的孙院长致谢。哪知，迎面给泼来的是一盆冷水，我们的心顿时结了冰。她板着面孔说：“说实话吧，当时我们不知道张沪是个右派分子，如果知道的话，我们不会费那么大力气去进行抢救！” 我俩呆呆地站在院长办公室，直到她下了逐客令。至今我还记得那令人尴尬的场景，我俩进退维谷，完全不知所措。后来，我们从护士嘴里打听到孙院长是个老处女，只当她是性格怪癖所致，依然写了一封感谢第六医院的信，掷进了信筒。 张沪因身体虚弱，继续留在报社劳动，我则乘坐公共汽车到门头沟，爬山过岭回到群峦环抱的一担石沟。当时已是初秋时节，树叶在秋风中缓缓飘落，我的心也像树叶一样，坠落在大山之谷。因为我归队后说了一句：“张沪这件事对我的打击，仅仅次于我死。”便说我丧失立场，同情张沪自绝于人民的行为。那位“头人”组织老右开我的批判会。我在会上据理力争，并把没有虚掷时间写了开垦北大荒长篇小说一事提了出来，我真是执愚到了极点，殊不知右派分子没有笔耕的权利。那位“头人”说：“你想干什么？你想写出百万字的大部头来，威胁党组织给你摘帽子！告诉你、那是白日做梦！”如果仅仅是口诛笔伐，那倒也无所谓，只要给他两只耳朵就够了。但这位“头人”在后来，编写我们的“罪行材料”时，把我写《第一片黑土）堂而皇之地写到了掷我进“大墙”的结论之中…… 批判会开过不久，《北京日报》、北京出版社和北京新华分社的右派就接到了开拔令。我们离开了大山沟里的人造宫殿，离开了那矗立的大山和山涧中跳蹦着的潺潺溪水（历史到了80年代，我和当年在此地付出血汗的同类王志诚、白祖成、钟鸿、李滨声、张敦礼、梁湘汉……重访“一担石沟”，昔日挑水上山、背粪上山种下的桃树，都枯死了——“宫殿” 早已失色，溪水早已断流，它成了北京日报存纸的纸库）。当时，大跃进的谎祸之灾已绽露端倪。鉴于情况严峻，我们这些劳动力被抽调回来，开垦一块农副业基地，以便编辑、记者们的食堂少一点代食品，多一点口粮。 新的生活驿站名儿很怪——叫“四路通”。