Chapter 5 Anti-Rightist Memoirs (5) - "Four Ways" lead to the "Great Wall"

This is a place where there are no villages, no towns, and it is close to the railway outside Yongding Gate. Every day, you can see long green steel dragons passing by whistling white smoke.Every time the train rumbled by, I realized I was a passenger thrown out of the car when the train turned a corner.Fortunately, here is close to home, and I can go home every Saturday night and reunite with my family. But the excess of sorrow always follows me like a shadow.What shocked me the most was the death of Liang Shajun.I remember that when Zhang Hu was lying on the sickbed, he visited her and said a lot of reassuring words to me with a smile.Zhang Hu crossed the 38th line of death, but he knocked on the door of death.

He is optimistic by nature, he will not cut his throat with a blade like Wang Shouqing, and he will not take excessive sleeping pills like Zhang Hu.He pursued life—but he was the first to leave the rightist group. I don't know if it was fate, but his bones were really buried in the Babaoshan People's Cemetery where he was nostalgic. For those of us who have just returned to the city, this is tantamount to a bomb.At that time, at the end of 1959, rightists gathered in the newspaper building to summarize the year-end renovation, and the death of Liang Shajun naturally became our topic.The reason for this is also related to the cause of Sha Jun's death, because he died abnormally, but unexpectedly.Zhang Hu, Luo Xinmin, Zhao Yunqiu, and I were all heartbroken like swallowing lead.Luo Xinmin was the first to be indignant about Sha Jun's death.He stayed in the newspaper office to work and knew the details of his untimely death best.He sadly told us: Sha Jun was hit to death by a small sleeping car. On September 9, he rode his bicycle home from Dongdan after get off work. When the bicycle passed by the Beijing People’s Art Theater near the east entrance of Dengshi, when he saw the green light and turned left, a small sleeping car came rushing through the red light. Liang Shajun couldn't dodge in time, and he was knocked several meters away, including the man and the car, and his head fell heavily on the stone steps dividing the road and sidewalk.

In my opinion, Liang Shajun and Wang Fuyang belong to the two most pure qualities among the rightists.In the anti-rightist struggle, I was cowardly and overwhelmed with gains and losses. This kind of mildew in quality has absolutely nothing to do with them.When criticizing others, they either kept silent, or said "it's hard to speak without knowing the details", and they never said anything that violated their conscience in order to protect themselves.At this time, one of these two people went to the frontier, and the other went to heaven. My sorrow is beyond words.My wife Zhang Hu was particularly moved. She shed tears for the situation of Liang Shajun's wife Xiaoying.On a Sunday, we went to Liang's house with Zhao Yunqiu and Luo Xinmin to visit Xiaoying. Sha Jun's old mother looked haggard and her silver hair was disheveled;There were only mother and daughter-in-law in this miserable family. Originally, Xiaoying was pregnant, but the preterm fetus was aborted due to illness, and she never gave birth again.Looking at the old mother and daughter-in-law, my heart was broken; listening to Xiaoying talking about the aftermath of Liang Shajun's death made us angry again.The conversation at that time is recorded as follows:

"Did Sha Jun violate the traffic rules by cycling?" "A car running a red light." "What unit's car?" "It's from the Public Security Bureau." "How did you deal with it?" "It's a matter of burying it!" "Where's the driver who caused the accident?" "I haven't heard of any punishment." "Is it possible to not bear legal responsibility for killing a rightist?" "Say... yes... say it's an urgent mission!" The air in the room suddenly froze, and I said angrily, "I'll go to the leader of the newspaper office!"

"Who are you?" Zhang Hu said, "You have the same status as Jun Sha." "Isn't the rightist a human being? You can't deal with a problem like that if you run a dog to death!" Luo Xinmin said, "It's best for Xiaoying to come forward on this matter. She is a people and has the right to speak." Zhao Yunqiu suggested: "It's not enough to bury it hastily, we must act according to the law!" "Where is the law?" Zhang Hu asked Zhao Yunqiu, "Which law have you violated? If you say you are a rightist, you are a rightist!"

Is not it?Where is the law?We talked about it in general and empty, and unexpectedly offered a good plan to Xiaoying.Finally, after everyone regained their senses, they felt that asking to deal with the driver was tantamount to daydreaming.Because no one will inform you whether to punish the driver or not, but I remember that when Sha Jun was watching the tombstone in the People’s Cemetery, he joked that if he really died, we asked us to raise funds to build a sarcophagus or cement coffin for him. , Let the unit that drove into an accident and killed Sha Jun get him a cement coffin, maybe Sha Jun will feel more at ease under Jiuquan, right?We told Xiaoying about this, and Xiaoying also thought it was okay to discuss with the newspaper with this minimum requirement.

We await news from her.I even think that the unit responsible for the accident will agree to come down even out of low-standard humanitarian considerations.Because it only needs a few bags of cement and a few craftsmen to water it, it doesn't cost much.But two days later, Xiaoying ran to Laoyou’s lounge in a panic and told us: “It’s too bad! The newspaper ××× asked me why I didn’t raise this issue earlier, but I just raised it now. I...I ... This person can't speak, and when he heard you talking about Sha Jun's request during his lifetime, ××× immediately became angry, saying that this is a rightist solicitation, and he wants to talk to you individually! What should I do?"

what to do?The few of us were dumbfounded.in.In particular, Luo Xinmin was the most terrified, because he told us the details of Sha Jun's untimely death.The next morning, ××× appeared at our summary meeting. His brows were wrinkled into the word "Chuan", and his face was like a stone. This is not only a matter of class sentiment, but also a big problem of inciting Liang Shajun's family members to make trouble." There was a lot of noise in the venue, and everyone was intimidated by this kind of infinite superiority.The "leader" among the rightists took the lead in speaking and said: "In our reform collective, there are indeed a few black apples. These people not only have nothing to do with the death of Liang Shajun, they also want to lay maggots on the Great Leap Forward and the Great Leap Forward. The general line...all have their reactionary views. At this year-end summary meeting, I hope that these people will pour beans out of bamboo tubes, shake them out, and recognize and criticize them. It is impossible to muddle through."

Everyone was silent. The "leader" did not have a clear name, and no one pretended to be sentimental to check their seats.However, Luo Xinmin, who was sitting opposite the long table, was the first to stand up with a red face and said: "The organization reminds us in time, it is for us. A chance to sum up and cleanse your soul!" To be honest, I was not surprised by Luo Xinmin's actions at the time. There are two reasons: 1. In the two years of reforming career, Luo Xinmin was the first to express his opinion at every study meeting, but when he came to the meeting, he was the first to express his opinion. He was the first to show his sharp eyesight, commenting on social real life.2. Luo Xinmin was the first to feel the pressure because he told us about the death of Sha Jun. For this reason, it is natural for him to take the initiative to express his position.Here, my utter ignorance of intellectual weaknesses is exposed, not comprehensively.Historically dissects people's habits and levels.Taking Luo Xinmin as an example, in the early days of the anti-rightist struggle, he exposed Li Binsheng and Wang Fuyang from the same art group; later, he participated in the critical struggle against Zheng Xi, an honest art editor.Those who were able to take advantage of others' dangers to protect themselves at that time, couldn't they repeat their old tricks under pressure?

In the past, when we were reforming together in the Xiazhuang brigade, Wang Fuyang once talked to me about Luo Xinmin's character defects.However, during the days of reform together, he always said "strange things" about the Great Leap Forward, the General Line, and the People's Commune before us, and the language was very sharp.Over time, both Wang Fuyang and I have forgotten his bad character.At the year-end summary meeting, Luo Xinmin first "revealed the uprising." In his inspection of Sha Jun's death, he pulled out a few bottom-ranked people: Wang Fuyang, Zhang Hu, Zhao Yunqiu, and myself were all among them.

This dramatic mutation was a turning point in my fate (including Zhang Hu and Zhao Yunqiu).We all did the long self-examination and "helped each other out" with each other.Starting from the "wrong understanding" of the anti-rightist struggle, we dug deep into the "reactionary views" on the three red flags of the Great Leap Forward, the General Line, and the People's Commune.It is also necessary to extract words and sentences from the books of Marx, Engel, Lenin, and Si - more importantly, from the works of Mao Zedong, and conduct self-flagellation. Zhang Hu's thought inspection has more content than mine.Namely: Criticize suicides that attempt to isolate themselves from the people and are anti-Party and anti-socialist.After she checked, the "leader" in the right called me the first to criticize, because I was her husband.The term is slightly milder, that is, "sympathize with the granite", that is, "live in the same counter-revolutionary camp as Zhang Hu".In classical drama, there is an allusion of Wu Zixu crossing Zhaoguan——one night his hair turned white.In those days of summarizing thoughts, it was actually more difficult than Wu Zixu passed the test back then.Because Wu Zixu only needs to go through the forest of swords and halberds, and escape on horseback; but when Chinese intellectuals gather intellectuals, the kind of energy that does not let go of your skin is really better than those who stopped Wu Zixu from breaking through. Brave husband.For example: the rightist "leader", he is obviously a speculator, but he always pretends to be a sanctimonious look.With his falcon-like eyes, why couldn't he see all the anti-scientific and reckless behaviors in the Great Leap Forward, but he sang praises in the conclusion.And ×××, who is in charge of our rightist reform work, loves to listen to this kind of carol very much.On the other hand, this "leader" severely punished the old right who offered his sincere views on life at the meeting, and used our fallen corpses one by one as stepping stones for him.He used this to gain favor and trust in the leader, and the leader also has the disease of the times that loves to listen to carols. Therefore, our "leader" got the first batch of benefits of taking off the right hat-from a rightist to a rightist who took off his hat - The so-called "people". In my memory, this "leader" was very harsh on similar methods.The fierce appearance of Li Binsheng in the struggle has been disclosed in the previous article.After arriving at the agricultural and sideline production site of Silutong, because he is already a "crane of chickens" and has a higher status than these old rightists, he uses all means.At that time, the production site was raising a bad horse that had just been brought back from Inner Mongolia, and it was raised by a retired naval cadre named Lao Wen.This horse is unruly and often kicks people. Even Lao Wen, who feeds it day and night, is afraid of this animal.Once, when Lao Wen went home for vacation, the "leader" sent me to pull the Mongolian horse. The task was to put on a large flatbed cart and go to a gap in the city near Yongdingmen to pull the bricks of the city wall that had been dismantled. "The production site needs to build a pigsty, and use these bricks to build a pigsty wall. You have to pretend to be more and run faster!" he said. "I can't handle this animal!" I explained honestly. "Intellectuals want to be industrialized and peasantized." He answered me eloquently. "Be strict with yourself." "Driving a horse-drawn carriage requires skill, in case something goes wrong..." "You can't look forward and backward when you do things. If you are told to go, you should go." "I'm just explaining why." I argued. "There are people here who have never played with carriages. Who do you think should be sent?" As soon as he straightened his face, his eyes were drawn into a straight line, and a fiery light shone between the narrow upper and lower eyelids. "The work is difficult." , is the best time to test yourself.” "Driving a carriage is not a joke, I'm afraid of taking responsibility!" I said. "The work is assigned to you anyway, it's up to you to do it or not!" After finishing speaking, he turned and walked away to the vegetable garden. I froze there like a wooden stake, thinking for a while, and I knew that I should wear small shoes, but I still had to wear these pinched shoes.When I approached the stable, the maroon horse immediately raised its ears and stared at me. Old Wen told me that the animal not only kicked but also bit, and the first time he led it out of the stable, it bit off two buttons on his uniform in one bite.I quietly untied the reins on the manger, for fear of disturbing it and making it wild.Even so, it took a sudden bite, and I stepped back, and its long horse teeth tore the skirt of my coat.This moment, on the contrary, inspired me to conquer it, so I simply stuck it, put a wire halter on the horse with lightning speed, and then pulled the horse out of the stable by tightening the reins .Zhang Xincheng, the old right of the Xinhua Branch, helped me put a harness on it. I pulled out a tree stick as a horsewhip, pretending to be a handlebar, and drove the car out of the courtyard wall of the production site. Not long ago, there was a joke about Laoyou driving a car.It happened when Mr. Zhao, who was wearing nearsighted glasses, drove a small donkey cart to the cornfield to deliver fertilizer, and it happened when he returned.Originally, donkeys are much more tame than Ma Danzi, and generally speaking, it is not difficult to drive a donkey cart.It’s just that the famine in 1960 swept across the country, and we often used melons and vegetables instead of food, and donkeys were hard to eat.That day, after delivering the fat, Old Master Zhao drove the donkey cart back to the production site.He secretly hid a few green corns in his pocket, and took them out to chew, chew, and swallow them in places where no one was around... I don’t know whether it was Old Master Zhao who stole the greens that stimulated the donkey’s stomach, or his wolf-eating attitude made the donkey Feeling greedy, anyway, this guy pulled up the car and ran to the production point.At the T-junction where the main road turns to the production site, there is a public women's toilet built with broken bricks. The donkey may have been too eager to think about it, so he refused to listen to Mr. Zhao's whip command when turning the corner. Pulling the car, he didn't make a 90° dead-end turn, but directly slanted down the road. It didn't matter this time, the wall of the public toilet was knocked down by a car, and the two women inside were squatting, and they exclaimed, "Ah——" "Oh——" The two of them yelled while pulling up their pants: "Can you drive?" "How to drive the car towards the wall of the women's toilet?" "rogue--" "Four-eyed rogue with glasses—" Old Master Zhao spoke with a southern accent and apologized again and again; "I'm really sorry, I didn't hit the wall with sincerity, it's my first time driving——" At that time, it was the time when Lao You finished work and had dinner, and everyone saw this drama.Therefore, the disgraceful history of Zhao Yunqiu driving a car and knocking down the women's toilet has become a joke to relieve worries.The rightist Chen Degui even compiled it into a riddle and asked everyone to guess: "Old Master Zhao drove a car over the women's toilet and typed the name of a Chinese movie. Whoever can guess it will be rewarded with two sugar balls!" We all thought this riddle was very difficult to understand, so No one answered, so Chen Degui had no choice but to answer the question and said, "This movie is called "Sister and Sister Stand Up." At this time, it was my turn to drive, but the car I was driving was not a small donkey cart, but an out-and-out flatbed cart with large rubber wheels.The one pulling the cart was not a little donkey, but a horse with a red mane; Old Master Zhao was driving the cart to transport fat on a secluded wild road, while I was driving the cart to pull bricks in the downtown area. He sat with one leg on the side of the carriage, looking very leisurely; I dared not sit in the carriage, and walked beside the horse egg with one hand holding the rein, my heart was beating wildly with tension. Not too bad, this Mongolian horse is just "rebelling in the nest", and it looks very peaceful when it goes out to pull the cart. When I reached the gap in the city wall, I threw the fodder bag to its mouth, only to realize that this is tantamount to hypocrisy, because I dare not take off the wire bridle for it.I'm afraid it will become wild again and bite a passerby on the roadside. I am in rags.Out of self-esteem, I tried not to look at the passers-by on the side of the road. I entered Beijing in 1946. There were many acquaintances, relatives and friends in the city, and I was afraid that people would see my sad face.I bent down and picked up the bricks of the city wall that were stained with mortar, and loaded them onto the big flatbed truck.Originally, this job should be done by two people, but our "leader" just took care of me and asked me to move, transport, load, and stack, which is called "strict requirements".By the time this truckload of bricks is finished, it’s already past the lunch time, and if you’re just hungry, you can survive.Just as I was yelling at the cattle and I was not far from the gap in the city wall, a crisp voice suddenly shouted: "Hey! Are you...not... Cong Weixi?" I stopped the car and turned my head to look, and there was a woman in a plaid jacket standing by the roadside, she was staring at me full of surprise. "It's me, I'm..." I answered upside down. "My name is Liang Peiyu, have you forgotten? We were in a literature group when we were in school!" I immediately remembered her.When she was studying in the "Beijing Normal University", she was a talkative "machine gun". Whenever a work was discussed, she always spoke the most.Later, a publicity communication group was set up in the school, and we worked together for more than a year after school.She has an active personality, and I once regarded her as the "Belinsky" among women, because she likes to comment on society and life.This is really which pot is not opened, which pot is picked up, why did I meet my former schoolmates here? "How do you..." "Pull bricks to build a pigsty." When she was about to ask me other questions, I put my offense on the defensive and asked her back: "Where are you going?" "My family lives in Tianjin. I happened to pass by here on my way to Yongdingmen Railway Station. I looked like you from the left to the right, so I stopped." You went to teach at XX school in Xuanwu District, didn’t you get transferred to the newspaper office?” She looked at me inquiringly as she spoke, not hiding her sympathy for the “down and out genius”. This scene reminds me of the meeting between Paul and Tonya at an unnamed station in the movie "Paul Korchagin"-although during school, I only had friendship with her, but nothing beyond friendship. "Have you taken off your hat yet?" she asked. "It's not my turn." "why?" “Poor performance of the remodel!” "It's a waste of life. A few years ago, I read your prose "Hometown Sanji) aloud to the students! That article was compiled and printed in the Chinese textbook..." I saw her talking more and more, so I reminded her: "Go to the station! Don't miss the train!" "It's okay." She said, "There are several trains passing by Tianjin every day. If you miss this one, just sit on the next one!" "No. I still have tasks!" My stomach was already groaning with hunger. "It's rare to meet, let's chat for a while!" I pointed to the bay red horse carrying the load: "It's time to eat grass!" She frowned regretfully, helplessly he said: "Leave the location to me! I'll visit you when I'm free!" "This...it's not very convenient. Let's meet later!" I raised a willow stick to drive away the animals, and refused people out of the door very rudely. What? How can I let my former schoolmates come to "Silutong"?Except for a few cadres, there are all old rightists—there is also a hermaphrodite in the middle, he is a rightist who can neither be called a cadre nor a rightist—our "leader" . On the way home, I felt very depressed as if I had been insulted.In fact, the old schoolmate Liang Peiyu did not show any contempt for me. It is because I am too self-esteem and too sensitive that I have such a weird psychology.I can't help but envy this Mongolian horse. It has no pain, and it doesn't have all kinds of thoughts that humans have.It puts on splints and harnesses, pulls the cart with its head down, unloads the cart and rolls, and goes into the stables to graze.Maybe my life degenerated into a horse, or that donkey, and gained eternal peace and freedom. Regardless of the motives of the "leader", it should be said that good results have been received.I am no longer afraid of that Mongolian horse.I can shake my whip and drive my wagon.This can be regarded as a progress in the industrialization of intellectuals.As the saying goes: "Many arts do not overwhelm one's body." As for whether culture degenerates in the process of industrialization and agriculturalization, that is a topic for philosophers, and I don't need to talk too much.From now on, as long as Lao Wen is not around, the task of handling the handlebars is none other than me.I remember that it was late autumn in 1960, and the "headman" assigned me to drive a horse-drawn carriage to Jiulongshan Distillery in the northeastern suburbs of Beijing to drain distiller's grains.An ocean iron barrel is fixed with ropes on the large flatbed.At that time, the newspaper.In the canteens of the publishing house and the Beijing branch of the Xinhua News Agency, steamed buns made of corn kernels rubbed into slurry and mixed with real corn flour have appeared, and artificial meat instead of real meat has appeared on the dining table. The 1958 Great Leap Forward boasted and blatantly blasphemed, already showing bad results on the dinner tables of various institutions and families in Beijing (Shandong, Henan...including Sichuan, the "Land of Abundance", starved to death of millions of civilians).Therefore, raising pigs with distiller's grains has become a special task in the age of hunger.As a rightist who wears a hat, I go out wearing stars and a moon suit before dawn, and I don’t return until dusk when crows fly around the trees. Wearing an old dog fur cloak, a ragged cotton hat covering his face, and a leather whip for driving animals in his arms, he drives dozens of kilometers a day (because the four roads are very far away from Jiulong Mountain), and he has to wear Pass through Beijing's Jianguomen Street, Chongwenmen, Hongqiao, Jinyuchi, Tianqiao, Yongdingmen Street and other downtown areas. To this day, when I recall some of these scenes, I still feel shuddering.One day, Yan Ming, an old poet, was my car assistant (cadres from the newspaper office often came to the production site to participate in short-term labor), and went to Jiulong Mountain with me to drain distiller's grains.When the carriage reached the T-junction where Jinyuchi Avenue turned to Hongqiao Road, the Mongolian horse turned too straight and rushed straight north.Good guy, the left wheel of the big cart just hit the traffic podium in the middle of the street.The red traffic podium was knocked out of its way, and the traffic police almost died under the wheels. I strangled hard, and the carriage stopped. The traffic policeman scolded angrily, "What did you do?" To be honest, I don't know how I did it myself.It happened in a short moment, and I had no choice but to listen to the lecture in a daze. "Can you drive?" "Why did you crash into the traffic control platform?" "Which commune do you belong to?" "I must inform your commune." The traffic policeman turned pale with anger, and I was so embarrassed that sweat dripped from my face.At this time, thanks to the old poet Yan Ming jumped out of the car and rescued me.He said: "I'm really sorry. He is a decentralized cadre of our newspaper office. He has never driven a horse-drawn carriage into the city in the past. He bumped into the podium after learning and practicing. Please forgive me!" He didn't inform me of my rightist status, but called me "decentralized to the Ministry".The policeman patted the dust off his legs, stared at me hard, and warned me: "It's against the law to hit the traffic control platform. If you run over the policeman, the crime will be added to the crime, understand?" "Got it! Got it!" What do I understand?I answer completely mechanically.After the carriage continued on the road, I thanked Comrade Yan Ming repeatedly and said, "Thanks to you, otherwise I might have been detained for a few days!" Life is fucking full of drama.Did I encounter a "ghost hitting the wall" in broad daylight? !At dusk, when I came back with a large bucket of distiller's lees in a carriage, and walked along the narrow Hongqiao Road (at that time, Hongqiao Road was a gentle slope with a high north and a low south, with a tramway in the middle), a car jingling The tram with its bell ringing came from behind the carriage.The tram driver may be out of good intentions, afraid of hitting the carriage.Don't you know that the horse I'm driving is from Inner Mongolia, and he hasn't gotten used to the noise of the city yet.The sudden series of bells behind us made the horse prick up its ears and then gallop on all fours.Oh my God!The cart was pulling a cart full of distiller's grains, and Yan Ming and I were still sitting in the cart.What's especially bad is that this section of the road is downhill, and I want to stop but can't.The bell of the car had already gone dumb behind us, but the car was running faster and faster. This frightened and fierce horse, with such great strength from nowhere, pulled us down Hongqiao Road in one breath, and then gradually let go. Slow down.Fortunately, it was past the rush hour for commuting, and there were few bicycles and pedestrians on the street. It was a false alarm and no pedestrians were hurt. Afterwards, I don't know if Yan Ming talked to the leader of the production point about the possible dangers of the horse-drawn carriage traveling through the downtown area. Anyway, from this day on, the donkey cart was replaced by distiller's lees.Since winter is coming, this job of climbing from midnight to midnight is very difficult, and I am still the one driving the car.A horse cart is replaced by a donkey cart, and a cannon is replaced by a black gun. There are fewer dangerous things, but because animals are not the spirits of all things, they knock down cyclists on the side of the road, or block the road of a car driver, and are scolded by the driver. "Asshole" and the like happen again and again.I remember, it was a bitterly cold winter afternoon, and the donkey passed Dongdan on the way home, pulling a bucket full of distiller's grains.On that day, I don't know which important foreign guests the state leaders received, and there were many police posts along the streets near Beijing Railway Station.On weekdays, when I drove this donkey cart through the market, many people would stare or cover their noses. This was due to the yellow color dripping from the iron barrel when pouring distiller's lees, like a piece of yellow It looks like shit soup, people always take the car I drive as a dung truck. "Hey! The dung truck detours!" the policeman yelled at me. I stared blankly at the well-dressed policeman and said, "My donkey cart goes this way every day!" "Stop talking nonsense!" He waved his white gloves, "Go away!" "Where are you going?" His arrogant posture stabbed my deep-rooted intellectual self-esteem, "There is only one road here!" "Turn into the alley!" His voice was several times higher than mine. The section from Beijing Station to Dongdan seems to have no alleys to turn around, but there is a small gap on the south side, which leads directly to the "Beijing Daily". I really don't want to drive this "dung truck" into the newspaper compound, because I don't want this poor look to be seen by people from the newspaper office.It seemed that the traffic policeman was not very familiar with the geography of this section, and he did not know that there was a gap on the south side; besides, my donkey cart was already very close to the intersection in Dongdan, so he changed his fate and said, "Forget it! Don't dawdle. Hurry up! Hurry up to the intersection and run to Chongwenmen! We have to pass the welcoming convoy here!" I gave the donkey a whip hard, trying to make it go faster.The donkey ate a whip, suddenly jumped forward, snapped its girdle, snapped the girth, and hit the scales with the distiller's lees trolley. The two handles of the donkey were like anti-aircraft machine guns, and they stabbed at the scales. In the sky, the donkey got out of the harness. I broke out in a sweat immediately. The traffic policeman scolded me angrily: "What are you doing?" "The bellyband is broken, can you blame me?" He anxiously looked at the watch on his wrist, "Oops! Oops!" He yelled a few times, and came up to help me with the car.But the yellow paste on the iron bucket made him stop again.It was my quick wit that I untied the hemp rope that tied the fur cloak around my waist, hooked it up to the broken girdle, and then asked the traffic policeman to help me press the handlebar of the upturned cart and put the donkey back on the harness and splints.Amitabha, the barrel of distiller's lees tilted for a long time, fortunately the plug was tightly plugged, and the yellow excrement soup did not spill onto the road.But after such a toss, the time dragged on for ten minutes, and before I was allowed to wave my whip again to drive the car, the convoy of red flag cars that greeted the guests had already turned around the intersection of Beijing Railway Station and headed towards East Chang'an Avenue at high speed.There are curtains on every car in the fleet... After a false alarm, I sat on the shaft of the donkey cart, thinking of many things suddenly, and couldn't help laughing to myself.That was the day when we were working under Babao Mountain two years ago.One day, Luo Xinmin, Wang Fuyang, and I were ordered to pick beans in the vegetable garden near the Revolutionary Cemetery. Suddenly, Captain Han came to the bean field in a hurry. Let's go!" We were all very surprised: "The beans are all bursting, don't you tell us to grab them?" Captain Han sighed and said: "Political tasks are above all else, why did our brigade just happen to be next to the revolutionary cemetery!" Let's go On the way to the end of the work, he told us: Comrade Mayor XX came to the Revolutionary Cemetery this afternoon. I don’t know if he came to inspect the cemetery, visit the grave, or mourn the deceased comrades in arms.Anyway, an order came from above to strengthen the security work.Captain Han knew that the three of us would not destroy cars, nor would we shout reactionary slogans, let alone... However, he still had to follow the instructions, and rightists should stay away from the cemetery.This incident is strikingly similar to the nature of the police driving me away from the donkey cart.If he knew that the driver of the "dung truck" was a "five types of elements", maybe he would "protect" me first, and then hand over the whip to me after the convoy drove across the street? Back to Silutong outside Yongding Gate, it was already dark. Unload the cart and drink the donkey.When the thin distiller's grains were put into the cement pool, Samsung was already shining.Wash your hands and face and go to the kitchen to eat. Eating steamed corn bread mixed with cornmeal is like eating delicious food.This is really in line with the usual saying: "Hungry people eat bran as sweet as honey, and full people eat honey and it is not sweet." When I woke up, before 5:30 on time, I really didn't know that the biological clock is so precise, it is always the sound Waking me up without a breath.Then the third child: Tighten the leather cloak with a rope—prepare the fodder bag—drive to Jiulong Mountain.Due to dealing with that "dung truck" for a long time, I smelled of wine lees that couldn't be washed off. When I went to the city and went home to rest, even though I put on clean clothes, my two-and-a-half-year-old son still yelled at me: "Daddy!" You smell of wine! Dad smells of wine!" The mother, whose gray hair was increasing day by day, bought a steelyard in 1960. Like many low-level families in Beijing, she weighed the food according to the scale and put it into the pot, for fear that she would lose money at the end of the month.The monthly ration of two catties of frozen eggs at home is always waiting for me to eat when I am on vacation.Although the days are a bit rough, being able to reunite twice a month (rest for prostration) is my mother's highest spiritual enjoyment. At that time, my family still lived in the inner courtyard of No. 39 Weijia Hutong in Beijing.There is a small flower bed in the courtyard, and the empty space around the flower bed is paved with square bricks. The youngest son usually has no company to play with, and I am his big companion.In summer, he likes to catch dragonflies. I help him catch dragonflies from the flowers, and he takes them to the screen window in the house, watching them flutter for a while, and then releases them with open palms.I often subconsciously feel that those little lives released should be me and my wife.Although we are the spirits of all things, human beings do not all have the innocence and kindness of children.When winter comes, a few clusters of flowers and sunflowers in the flower beds wither together, and there are no dragonflies or butterflies to catch in the yard, so I play a big ball with my son, and I kick the ball far away to see his silly smile when he holds the ball back .When Zhang Hu and I were playing with our son, we seemed to forget the heavy burden in our hearts, and laughed out loud with our youngest son... At this time, she and I didn't know that bad luck was gradually approaching us.Zhang Hu worked in the bookbinding room of the newspaper office, and was often praised by Mr. Zhang; I drove the donkey cart from dawn to dusk and worked diligently, and was also praised by the blackboard newspaper at the production site.Everything seemed peaceful, like a pool of stagnant water without ripples, and we were leeches floating motionless on the water, letting time pass by.Of course, sometimes I would take out the manuscript of "The First Black Soil", look through it, and write a few more chapters if I felt passionate. My mother often said to him slowly, as if praying: "Just work and eat in peace, and you two must not make any mistakes again!" "Can't get out!" I said. "Don't worry!" said the wife. Of course, we also have concerns. The biggest worry is not the newspaper office, but the "leader" who has taken off his right hat.In the past, he used us as a stepping stone to achieve the goal of taking off the first batch of hats; after arriving at Silutong, his methods became more severe and he used everything to the extreme. There are two things that make me unforgettable all my life: 1. In the midsummer of 1960, the "headman" sent me and Zhao Yunqiu to cut pigweed, and set up a small blackboard for the two of us. When we came back, we passed the scale and recorded the number of pigweed on the blackboard. .There are more than 20 Laoyou reformed in the "Silutong", but none of them received this kind of "care", but they treated me and Old Master Zhao differently. One day, when I got up in the morning, the drizzle was misty. I put on a raincoat, carried an empty sack, and took a sickle to work in the rain.The field is gray and there is no one in sight. I am looking for grass that can fill the pig's stomach in the rain.Weeds are overgrown on both sides of the railway, but there are very few ash vegetables that can be eaten by pigs.Because in the calamitous years, the ash vegetables were all cut off by the villagers and stuffed into people's empty stomachs and hungry intestines as food substitutes (the canteen at our production site once used Ququcai, bitter hemp vegetables and ash vegetables as vegetables , boiled and fried for us to eat).Finally, I found a piece of Huihui vegetable behind a temporary toilet next to the railway, and I cut it with a sickle.The leaves in the rain were bare, and I had just cut a few times when the sickle slipped and cut on my left middle finger, blood flowed out immediately, and my left hand became a bloody hand.At the same time, a sharp pain made me tremble all over, so I had no choice but to abandon this piece of hard-to-find pigweed, pick up the sack and sickle and "go home". The "headman" looked very ugly. He didn't look at the blood on my hands, and asked straight away, "It's been more than two years since the transformation, and you're still afraid of the rain?" "I cut my left middle finger." "Why did you chop off your hands?" I can't help but secretly get angry.It doesn't matter if he doesn't care about the pain or the itch, why is he malicious?I was anxious and said to him: "There is a little bit of humanity in your words, who would want to chop off their hands!" "Then why did you cut it off your hand?" "Grass blades are smooth when the rain hits them, you know that?" “怨你镰刀磨得不快！” Yes.早晨起来我口袋里忘记了装上小磨石，但即使是装在口袋里，也无助于镰刀不砍着手。雨中的青草像抹上了一层油，稍不留意就会砍伤手掌。 “咱们办公室有常用药，你去抹点红药水吧！” “或许砍伤了筋骨”，我说：“我直接去医院。” “有那么严重吗？”“头人”满脸狐疑之色。 我真压不住火气了，拉下吊竿上的毛巾擦擦脸，没向他请示，就从永定门坐公共汽车，去了同仁医院（此医院为报社合同单位）。骨科医生告诉我：“筋骨已经折了，接接看吧！”老大夫给我手指上打了石膏，胳膊上套了个夹板，并叮咛我说：“一动不动地静养，也许还能把指骨接上。否则，你的中指一辈子都是弯曲的了！”他给我开了一周的假条，叫我一周之后再去复查。 同仁医院离报社很近。我到报社去找张沪，并告诉她“头人”的非人心肠。她也火得不行，但当我提出直接回家休息时，她还是劝我先回四路通，把假条交在“头人”手里再回家，以免他无缝下蛆。 这副伤兵的模样，确实使“头人”吃了一惊。他连声说着“想不到会伤筋动骨”的低语。是他的良心在反躬自问？还是对我脖子上垂下来的绷带和胳膊上的夹板表示怀疑？我无法猜测清楚。当我提出回家休息时，他居然视医生诊断证明为一纸虚文。他皱了半天眉，说：“咱们生产点很忙，你就在这儿休息养伤吧！” 我还没作出反应。他又说：“咱们生产点那块玉米田，不断发生丢青的事儿！干脆，你白天睡觉，夜里去护青好了！” 我不悦地回答他：“我还要按时吃药呢！” 他说：“那好办，下地时带一个水壶，到地里去吃药！” 我惊愕地望着这个两条腿的冷血动物，面对一个中指骨折患者，竟然如此不通人性。我肝火上升，忿然地问： “这是算我休息？还是算我出工？” “这个嘛……改造思想就得要对自己狠点！” “我认为你的话违反改造政策！”我终于耐不住火气了，嚷了起来，“就算我是个俘虏，政策里还有人道一条，你怎么这样对待人？” “你不是俘虏，别自我降低身份！”他抓住我的话柄，振振有辞地批判我，“你时刻该注意往人民立场上靠拢，而不要自外于人民，甘心与敌人为伍。” “你太过分了。”我喊着。 “是你太过分了。你手指用石膏固定起来，还有腿能走吧！要物尽其用。”他也指着我咆哮起来。 “好，我可以去护青。”我退让了一步说：“夜里如果有偷青的老乡，我这带着夹板的伤手，对付得了他们吗？青玉米被掰走了，是我的责任，还是谁的责任？” 他避而不答实质性的质询：“你要是腿勤一点，那些想偷青的看见电棒光就溜走了。当然，你要是在窝棚里睡大觉，偷青的就会乘虚而入！” 我听出了他的弦外之音：只要是丢了青庄稼，罪责仍然在我。真是欲骂无词，欲喊无声，欲哭无泪。 伙伴们目睹了这场残酷的戏剧，却面面相觑。待“头人”离开屋子，老右刘波泳（小品文作家杨凡）不无感叹他说：“唉！还不如一头野兽！”他虽然直接发泄了对这件事的愤慨，但还是悄声劝告我：“按'头人'的命令去办。因为'头人'已摘了帽子，按详细的阶级分类，他的身份已在我们之上，得罪了他，他随便弄上几条，就够你喝一壶的。” 黄昏，我用绷带和夹板，托着那只打了石膏的手掌，另一只好手提着水壶，口袋里装着干粮。电筒以及止痛消炎药物，离开生产点。我们那块玉米地，离生产点约三四华里，是谁和我一块去执行看青任务的，我已经回忆不起来了。反正我们一夜都围着这块青纱帐转来转去，只有夜里吃干粮时，才到那地边的小窝棚里坐了一会儿，夜间的露水，打湿了我披着的破棉祆和绷带，连五指上裹着的石膏都变得湿漉漉的了。 夜望茫茫星空，我深感人生之严酷和悲凉，不禁又想起郭小川的长诗《望星空》。为吟诵此诗，在一担石沟时我曾挨了一顿批判，怎奈此诗对于我有着强烈的吸引力，常常使我触景生情，不免又低吟起来：“千节桥，万节道，不如银河一节高……” 天亮了，我提空暖壶的时候，不小心碰了伤口一下，顿感钻心的疼痛。归途上，通过一片洋白菜地，见一条野狗在追逐菜垄里的什么东西。那条狗一身黄色，神态甚是凶猛，它跑跑停停，似在捕猎时不断受阻，走近看去，原来它是在追捕一个刺猬。那刺猬呈灰褐色，每当那条狗走近它身旁欲伸嘴咬它时，刺猬便“嗬——”地一声，浑身剑刺倒竖起来，使那条狗不敢下嘴叼它。这一大一小两个动物，就这样追追停停，直到那刺猬钻进一座孤坟的洞穴之中…… 伙伴说：“这洞不会深，扒出来烧着吃吧！” 我摇头：“它够可怜的了，还是以慈悲为本吧！” A week passed.我手上裹着的白色石膏变成了乌黑色。到医院一复查，大夫惊讶地望着我：“你是怎么搞的？” 我坦然地承认：“我是右派，这几天没有休息！” He was speechless.沉默了老半天，说：“伤筋动骨一百天，你这手指恐怕要落残了！” 我这个中指的命运，被大夫言中了。紧挨指甲的第一骨节没有复原，那儿隆起一个肉瘤。直直的中指，从此一生弯曲如弓，像总在低头认罪…… 我的手指弯曲不久，又发生了第二件令人心灵颤栗的事情。那是夏未秋初，因我喜欢赤着脊梁干活，得了感冒发起烧来。“头人”对我去医院看病仍不放绿灯，我悲忿至极，朝他喊叫了起来，他刁难我说：“可以先试试体温计嘛！真发烧你再去也不迟！” “我浑身哆嗦你看不见？” “小病坚持嘛！活儿这么忙。” “你去找体温计吧！” 这时，出版社另一个摘掉右派帽子的陈德贵，告诉“头人”生产点没有体温计，并说情叫我火速去医院诊疗。可是“头人”两只小眼睛一下瞪圆了，纠正陈德贵的话说：“谁说没有体温计，那儿不是有只猪用的肛门计（注：肛门计是给病猪检查体温的，用时把温度计插入肛门。）吗？” “混蛋——”我终于骂出声来。 之后，不等他的放行令，我拖着沉重的双腿走出生产点。到医院一量体温，体温高达39.3℃。这次，我接受了骨折的教训，拿了假条直奔家里，没有返回生产点，进了家门就拉开棉被睡在床上…… 我这只温顺的猫，头一次扮演了刺猬的角色。 我是两条腿的人。不是四条腿的猪。“肛门计”这三个字，使我永生难忘四路通的岁月。当然，更难忘怀那个摘了帽子的“头人”。 由于有这两件事情，我在平静中常有不平静之感。很快，这预感就被证实了。当时，社会各单位自上而下贯彻了“严管五类分子”的决定通知。有一天，“头人”把我找到了做饭的伙房——那儿静无他人。我们开始了如下的谈话： “入冬以后，你拉运稀酒糟的活儿干得不错。” 我知道这是帽儿戏。 “可是你们几个人（指张沪、赵筠秋、骆新民、王复羊）的事儿，还没交代清楚；交代了的，也还没有彻底批判。希望你重新交代、认识、批判！真正扭转右派反动立场！”他说。 在1959年思想总结会上，报社负责管理右派的领导已向我们明确他说过：向党交真心，是要求进步的表现，时间过去了一年，怎么又算开了旧账？ “可以告诉你，骆新民已经重新交代，重新批判自己的问题了。识时务者为俊杰，你应拿出主动的态度。” 我决断他说：“我无意去投这个机！” “咱们没有共同语言。”“头人”脸上流露出不耐烦的神气，一字一板地告诫我，“这是对你最后一次争取，你要是坚持这个态度，你将悔恨终生！” he's gone. 事后，老右辛大明急急忙忙地找到了我。他把我拉到附近一个木材厂堆放木料的僻静角落，对我说：“小从，这可不是你任性的时候，社会上对五类分子要严加管束了，你和他（“头人”）抗膀子，胳膊能拧得过大腿吗？你还是主动找他谈一次话，表表你的态度吧！”我很感谢辛大明对我诚恳的帮助，但是在这3年改造生涯中，我已不再是1957年以前懦弱的书生，因而我谢绝了他的一番美意。进城休假时，我向妻子陈述了这些不愉快的事情，她沉默了许久，忧郁他说：“报社也要抓五类分子中的典型了，我'自绝于人民'的账还没清算，也许到了算账的时候了！” 1960年12月18日，是星期天，天气奇寒。张沪因患感冒，早早地睡下了。我内心苦闷不堪，当晚拿着一张房东送的戏票去看京剧。年轻时我酷爱京剧，我和刘绍棠对叶盛兰的戏，几乎是场场不漏。什么《白门楼》、《吕布与貂蝉》、《罗成叫关》，后来竟然发展到对杜近芳和叶盛兰配的每场戏，都必须过目：《柳荫记》、《白蛇传》……不过，这天去长安戏院看戏，纯属排闷解忧，而无任何欣赏的雅趣。当晚演员是谁我回忆不起来了，但我当晚看的戏一直铭刻在心，那是关汉卿的名作。 这出戏成了我们命运的象征，因为第二大一清早，我们刚刚起床一会儿，报社装订房的张老师傅就来到我家传达指示，要张沪和我吃过早饭去报社开会。张沪因感冒尚未痊愈，本想在家休两天病假的，但是老师傅亲自登门，不便推辞，便穿上蓝咔叽面的皮大衣，戴上防寒的红毛线帽，和我一块离开家门。 在电车上，张沪觉得有些发烧，和我耳语说： “是不是有什么事？” “可能是传达文件。” “不会真演一场吧？” "Won't." “哪个年代都有屈死鬼！”她说。 正值上班时间，电车上人很多，一些乘客不无好奇地窥视着我们。这是因为我俩的着装，实在太悬殊了。她完全是知识分子的打扮，鼻梁上还架着一副眼镜；我则穿着一件破旧的狗皮大氅（这是赶车时穿的），头戴着一顶带耳扇的旧呢面棉帽子，浑身散发着酒糟气息。张沪紧闭着双目，斜斜地靠在我身上——她无法发现那些奇异的目光。 我记得非常清楚，是我搀扶着她爬上报社四楼的。当气喘吁吁的我们，推开四楼会议室的玻璃门时，顿感气氛不同寻常。门口有一身着戎装的武警，报社领导已提前到会，端坐在主席台上，赵筠秋、骆新民身旁空着两个位于，是给我和张沪安排的）仔细地去描写这个会议，对我说来今天也仍是十分痛苦的。我只想告诉读者，领导宣读了我们的反动罪状（主要是对反右运动的看法，对“三面红旗”的言论，阅读《南共八大会议纲领》，以及传播傅聪“叛国”的消息等。当然，不会忘记把我写长篇小说《第一片黑土》也列入了罪状之内，还有张沪的“自绝于人民”问题等）。结论中指出，这是右派当中有纲领的“反改造小集团” （南斯拉夫在中国的别动队），必须严加惩处云云，一张桌子上已经摆好了签字的笔。会议主持人当即叫我、张沪和赵筠秋签字，众目睽睽之下，任何争辩都是毫无意义的，我们只能俯首就范。骆新民不在签字画押之列——他揭发“小集团”有功，又占有海外归侨的便宜，将功折罪，免于劳动教养的处分。 这是短促而又漫长的一个小时。在这个时空中，我若同被五雷轰顶，被五马分尸。我的灵魂已出七窍，会场上只留下一个我的空壳。麻木昏沉的脑子。恍恍惚惚记得在1957年的这个季节，剃光了头以示抗议把他划为右派的徐钟师，是从这里押走的——三年过后，又轮到了我们。 进会议室门时看见的那名武警，是为我们而来的。他命令我们三个人爬上一辆有对面座位的吉普车，然后车子鸣笛启动。那武警当即对我们发出警告说：“你们都是知识分子，想必明白政策，要是谁在车上不老实（可能指跳车之类的举动），我们可是不客气的！”说着，他把一副手铐，在我们面前晃了两晃。 吉普车上肃然元声。 “送我们去哪儿？”我想起家中的老母和幼子，急切不安地问道。 “到那儿你们就知道了。”武警回答。 我抬头看看我的妻子，她紧闭眼睑一动不动地坐在我的对面，那神态，若同已经死却了一般。我可以承受下地狱之苦，但不禁可怜起她来了。妻子是发着烧来报社开会的，没想到再也回不了家了。再看她时，她仍然像木雕般一动不动，既不看我，也不看车厢里的一切，但是有两行冰冷的泪水，从她紧闭着的眼角流淌了下来。她不擦它，任其顺着脸腮滚滚而下，一直滴落到皮大衣上…… 我的麻木的心，顿时被搅起了波澜。在这一霎间，她究竟想起了什么呢？是两岁多小儿子的笑靥？还是老婆母叮咛时的神色？不，她或许是记起了当年在上海滩，刚刚16岁的她参加了学生运动，并在地下党支部举行的入党仪式上举起拳头宣誓时的情景？抑或是她想起了在小小年纪时被国民党警察局抓了去，被国民党警察狠狠地打耳光的事情？往事如烟似梦，都已成为她的过去。而现在她和我正坐在不知通往何处的吉普车上呢！押送我们的人，帽子上戴着闪亮的国徽！ silence.Dead silence. 我们走进了一片混沌之中…… 脱稿于1987年2月21日 小孙子从磊二岁半之际