Chapter 2 Chapter One

On the pier in San Francisco in the autumn of 1955, the morning sky was gloomy gray-blue, thick fog covered the sea, and the beams of lighthouses circled the coast, and there were countless strands of rain floating in the beams.There was a long siren sound outside the port, it was a big ship waiting to enter the port.For San Francisco, the dawn was no different than any other day.But in the eyes of Eileen Chang on the boat, the looming red body of the Golden Gate Bridge seemed to give her a guarantee.The past recedes in the vast expanse of sea and mist.The future was in her slender hands gripping the ship's rails.

She remembered the cautious and serious expression on the man's face when he was screened by the Japanese immigration officer in Hawaii.He is a person who has the power to decide Zhang Ailing's future.His eyes wandered around Zhang Ailing, asking some clichés, while making subjective considerations about her.She could only maintain a low-key and sincere attitude. Even if her heart twitched slightly when talking about the relatives left behind, she had to suppress the slightest emotion in her eyes. The immigration officer slowly flipped through the file, and since he had no other questions to ask, he stamped Zhang Ailing's certificate.Afterwards, he endorsed with a blank expression on his face: "According to the 1953 Immigration Service Refugee Clause Amendment Act, the U.S. Immigration Service granted you refugee status based on humanitarian spirit. According to this Act, you can become a permanent resident of the United States. But the U.S. government will re-examine your status at any time based on your activities in the U.S., hold a hearing for discussion, or cancel your residence status."

Zhang Ailing was secretly relieved that she finally became a permanent resident of the United States as a refugee—but without any financial resources.Fortunately, the McDowell Literary and Art Camp in New Hampshire gave her a place, where she could spend the whole spring, trying to support herself with the words that were once a smash hit in Shanghai. The four fields are a quiet white, a bus weaves on a country road in New Hampshire.Zhang Ailing was sitting by the window, looking out from an angle without gaps, the hot air she exhaled was blowing on the glass in waves, but it still couldn't melt the ice crystals that condensed on the car window, which were clearer than her memory over the years.

The wooden camp hall of the Art Camp is like a cake house covered with whipped cream and icing sugar. It is located in a snowy pine forest. Except for the white smoke from the chimney, everything is peaceful and still.The snow had no intention of stopping, and the road that had been shoveled through the snow was covered with a new patch of white. The crows stopped on the stakes and watched.It jumped into the silver and white, ah-ah-screaming made the tranquility even more.The squirrel thief slid across the forest path, leaving shallow footprints on the snow on the path. Wearing a windbreaker and carrying a suitcase, Zhang Ailing's slender figure is heading towards the dense snow.The windbreaker was lifted by the wind, and there was a gray woolen skirt inside, and her thin legs were exposed to the cold wind. She was wearing flat short boots, and the snow was a little deeper, and the snow got in through the boots, which was icy cold.Looking from a distance, the log cabin assigned to her has not yet lit a fire, and there is a bleak scene above the chimney.

It was dinner time in the evening, and the campers gathered in the hall of the art camp with friends and companions.The plump cook-maid announced with a beaming smile that dinner was ready.Writers and artists chatted while eating.There are five or six people at a table, and there are candles and flowers on each table.On the walls in the lobby are works by contemporary artists. Each table has a different topic of conversation.There are all kinds of things, from music to politics, to news reports, social events, women's liberation movement... The social interaction between these artists and intellectuals is either wild or meaningless.Among them, the writer Ruihe is good at social jokes, but he despises such meaningless chatter in his heart.

Zhang Ailing came very late, opened the door gently and came in like a wisp of smoke, not many people noticed.She gently took off her coat and scarf, a simple dress, and a small net coat.Mrs. Eileen, the supervisor, quickly walked over to greet her, then turned around and knocked on the glass: "We have a new friend who just arrived today. She is from Hong Kong, an outstanding novelist, Eileen Chang!" Everyone stopped talking and knocked on their cups one after another to express their welcome. Zhang Ailing nodded slightly, and had to shake hands with a few people nearby. She couldn't hide her embarrassment at having to face so many strangers when she first arrived.

Mrs. Yilin noticed Zhang Ailing's subtle mood swings, smiled and said comfortingly: "Don't worry! You will get to know these 'boys and girls' soon. I will take you to familiarize yourself with the environment first. This is the only hall, except for Chinese food. Carry the basket to the studio, and everyone gathers here for breakfast and dinner every day to exchange creative experience. However, we prohibit everyone from talking here during the day, and you can’t disturb other people’s studios without invitation, so you still have a lot In my own private time, I focus on writing. There is a garden in the back, and we also have breakfast here in summer. The weather is so bad now! Fortunately, you are not blocked by this snow!"

Zhang Ailing has always been a listener. She is good at putting what she wants to say into the pen in her hand, so she leaves the initial impression of being noble and quiet.Mrs. Irene was elegant and dignified, and her words were soft and kind. She could see the restraint of this oriental woman, so she didn't say more.She led Zhang Ailing around in a circle and returned to the fireplace in the hall.Over the fireplace hangs a portrait of Mr and Mrs MacDowell. Mrs. Erin said with emotion: "This is like a big family. Mrs. McDowell often said that creators have suffered too much and suffered too much in creation, and they should not be made to worry about trivial things in daily life!"

Zhang Ailing felt deeply when she heard the words that seemed to come out of her heart. She raised her head and looked at the portrait of the couple on the wall, feeling a sense of gratitude in her heart. Mrs. Erin continued: "So, if you have any needs, please don't hesitate to tell us!" Zhang Ailing nodded politely and said, "Everything is fine! Thank you!" Mrs. Irene admired sincerely and said: "Everything Mrs. McDowell has paid is only due to her love for artistic creation and Mr. McDowell!" Zhang Ailing asked softly: "Is she still alive?" Irene said: "She is weak! She is ninety-eight years old this year! The power of love is amazing! You are a novelist, you must understand!"

Zhang Ailing showed a humble attitude on her face, and the portrait on the fireplace really caught her eyes.At this time, the waitress brought dinner, and a somewhat nervous artist came over and babbled to explain his ideas to Mrs. Irene.Mrs. Yilin smiled apologetically at Zhang Ailing and said, "I'm sorry!" Then she turned her head and told the waiter to lead Zhang Ailing to dinner. Many people in the dining room have already finished their meal, and the unfinished topics at the dinner table will naturally continue to the living room, otherwise they will suffer from insomnia at night.Zhang Ailing wanted to sit down at an empty table, and the painter Feng Weiwei, who had been paying attention to her for a long time, greeted her with a smile: "Come, here!" He stood up and opened a chair for Zhang Ailing.Zhang Ailing hesitated for a moment, so she had to come over and sit down.

Von Wicht introduced himself with a smile: "Hi, I am John.John Von Wicht." Zhang Ailing smiled slightly: Hello! Ruihe who was sitting on the side nodded and said, "I am Ferdinand Reyher!" Zhang Ailing said lightly: "It's a pleasure to meet you." For strangers, Zhang Ailing is unwilling to say a word, she has an instinctive rejection and rejection, because no one will hurt her if she doesn't know each other well.At this time, someone in the living room played the works of the French composer E. Satie, the music was mysterious and distant, calm and peaceful. The orange candlelight, the whispers, and the dream-like music made Zhang Ailing fascinated.This slender and shy oriental woman moved Ruihe's heart, and he was eager to understand the sadness in her eyes.Zhang Ailing answered his friendly and kind concern as concisely as possible, and she hoped to wrap herself layer by layer like a fruit core. Ruihe said with a somewhat exaggerated tone: "Shanghai! What a long journey! First time in America?" Zhang Ailing said flatly: "I have never left China!" Ruihe sighed sincerely: "I have never been to China, and I have always regretted it!" Feng Weike, who had been silent all this time, asked, "What are your plans now?" Zhang Ailing replied without any emotion: "I am writing a novel." Ruihe asked naturally: "Chinese novels?" Eileen Chang's reply has the style of a telegram: "English." Ruihe was a little surprised and curious when he heard that Zhang Ailing was writing a novel in English, and was about to ask what kind of story he was writing, when a burst of high-decibel laughter suddenly came from the living room, and the lively atmosphere of the conversation there distracted him a bit. Zhang Ailing seems to be talking to herself: "I like New York." Rahul said startlingly, "A gigantic monster! Von Weck is a New Yorker." Von Wecker said with admiration: "Wonderful city! I arrived in New York in 1923 and almost never left." Zhang Ailing explained: "My agent, Mrs. Marie Rodell, also lives in New York. I just arrived and lived in the women's apartment of the Salvation Army. I can hear cars flying overhead when I sleep. It reminds me of Shanghai. When I work, I need All kinds of noise." Ruihe said with a smile: New York will never let you down!When he spoke, he noticed that most of the food on Eileen Chang's dinner plate hadn't been touched, so he joked: "We ruined your appetite!" Eileen Chang smiled apologetically: "I'm not too hungry." Ruihe felt that Zhang Ailing's smile was like ripples in a pond, very kind and lovely, so she said humorously: "Now I can tell you how terrible this beef is!" After the meal, Ruihe invited Zhang Ailing to chat in the living room. Feng Weiwei, who had not spoken much, became energetic at this time. He told Zhang Ailing that he admired oriental calligraphy, such as Yan Zhenqing and Ouyang Xiu, and calligraphy was very helpful to his abstract art.Zhang Ailing was quite surprised, and there was enough interest in her eyes.Feng Weiwei met his bosom friend as if he was on a deserted island, and talked about his love for Chinese calligraphy endlessly. Ruihe quietly joined the discussion in the next group. He criticized the racial issues in the United States and the discrimination against blacks, and he was filled with righteous indignation: "The race riots in the summer of 1919 started in Washington. Soldiers come home for vacation, old storyline, they caught a black guy saying he tried to rape a white woman, her husband was a naval officer. It got big, a bunch of GIs roaming the streets and couldn't get a job Let's vent to black people at night..." Some artists couldn't stand the long night of socializing, and yawned.Seeing that Zhang Ailing was a little tired, Feng Weike greeted Ruihe and sent her back to the cabin. Walking out of the hall, I immediately felt the cold wind stabbing my face.There was no moon in the sky, and the dark pine forest was eerily quiet.The flashlight in Ruihe's hand tenaciously opened up a path, and he instructed: "The lunch basket should be taken into the house whether you eat it or not, because bears will come looking for food." Zhang Ailing glanced at him, but did not speak.The two walked silently, and the snow creaked under their feet, reminding them that there were still life activities around them. Zhang Ailing stopped in front of her cabin and said softly, "I'm here." Ruihe nodded: "Oh! James lived! James Baldwin is also a writer. Good night!" He waved his hands backward in the night, and moved forward with a little limp. The distance between the huts is very long, and the moon emerges from the clouds and hangs over the forest.Ruihe's footsteps step on the snow one high and one low, the forest in the snowy night has a kind of engulfing tranquility.He said to himself, "Old man! Don't go too hastily! What are you worried about? You know that death follows you closely, and you go with you!" On the first night, Zhang Ailing couldn't sleep.Her mind was empty like a wilderness, her thoughts were so fragmented that she couldn't gather them together, so she could only listen passively.All the tiny sounds of animals in the forest are infinitely amplified at this moment.The most frightening thing was the sound of dripping water from the faucet in the bathroom.The sound of water droplets easily crossed the time and space of twenty years, and returned to the night after the rain in Zhang's old house.She saw her seventeen-year-old self lying on the ground with a desperate face.As if her soul had been separated from her body, she was staring at her thin and pitiful body. The soul was so proud and huge, how could this small body carry it.And the moon was visiting her through the window nailed with iron bars, and the moon was her self twenty years later. Dinner parties are day-to-day high-spirited talk.Chang Ailing, who was used to being a loner, seldom went to join in the fun. She often stayed behind closed doors, devoted herself to writing, and sent dinner by hand.Ruihe paid close attention to Zhang Ailing's whereabouts, did not see her for several days, and felt an inexplicable loss in her heart. At noon that day, Zhang Ailing put her hands in her coat pockets, huddled and walked towards the hall, her expression silent, focused and thoughtful.Ruihe saw her from afar and greeted her happily: "Hi! Chang girl!" Zhang Ailing stopped in her tracks, and saw Ruihe and Feng Weike standing bent over by the bushes, holding binoculars in their hands.Ruihe jokingly said: "You have been hiding these few days!" Eileen Chang smiled apologetically, and when she saw Ruihe holding an apple in her hand, she asked curiously, "What are you doing?" Vonwick replied, "We're waiting for the deer! The snow stopped and they came out looking for food." Zhang Ailing opened her eyes wide in surprise and asked again: "Do they eat apples?" Ruihe smiled and said, "Do you want to try it? They are hesitating whether to come!" He said and handed the apple to Zhang Ailing. side watching. After waiting for a while, but still seeing no deer coming, Ruihe looked at Zhang Ailing with great interest and asked, "Is your novel going well?" Zhang Ailing was reluctant to talk about her novels with people she didn't know well, and it would be rude not to answer, so she made a noncommittal expression. Ruihe asked curiously: "Are you struggling?" Zhang Ailing pondered for a while, and said seriously: "Maybe it will be better to change a chair!" Ruihe couldn't help laughing loudly after hearing this subtle and humorous words. He liked the girl's expression and way of speaking, and jokingly said: "Yeah! I always wish I could change my head!" Ruihe's laughter will carefully The deer pricked up their ears vigilantly in fright, and Feng Weike, who was waiting quietly, said angrily, "Hey! Be quiet! They're gone!" Looking at the deer that were sprinting away, Ruihe spread his hands innocently. , Then he took back the apple in Zhang Ailing's hand and took a big bite himself.Looking at Ruihe's happy and relaxed expression, Zhang Ailing's shady and gloomy mood seemed to be illuminated by the firelight with some bright spots of joy. After going to the restaurant for lunch together, Ruihe and Feng Weike brought a padded high-back chair for Zhang Ailing by the way.When helping Zhang Ailing to arrange the tables and chairs, Ruihe saw a manuscript on the desk with "Rice Sprout" () written on the cover, and tentatively asked: "Your novel? Is it an honor to appreciate it?" Zhang Ailing hesitated a little Difficult, I feel that I am not familiar with Ruihe enough to show him the works, but fortunately Ruihe does not insist. After tidying up the house, Ruihe invited Zhang Ailing to go for a walk on the forest path in the camp.The sunshine in the afternoon in March is warm, with a slightly intoxicating feeling.Seeing the faint smile on Zhang Ailing's face, Ruihe knew that she was in a good mood, so she seized the opportunity to introduce herself: "I was a reporter first, and you probably haven't been born before the First World War! I haven't written anything serious I write reviews, essays, and movie scripts. I also mixed in Hollywood for a while—heaven and hell! Before I succeed or fall, I decide to leave! I like to help others achieve their ideals, and a large group of people in It's been so much fun working together! Maybe because I don't have much talent of my own and have to rely on the light of others! I'm not humble! I'm sixty-six! How much I know myself already!" He wanted to induce Zhang Ailing to talk more about herself, but was easily avoided.Zhang Ailing's past is a blank slate to Ruihe, she likes this state very much, and it makes her feel relaxed not to carry the past.But occasionally she has the desire to confide, even to complain and complain: "I have to deal with the forces that control publishing! I wrote during the fall of Shanghai, and when the war ended, I became a traitor! When I arrived in Hong Kong, I wanted to write Some of the things I saw after the establishment of the new society in China, the reviews put it as anti-communist literature! This is a compliment, I can’t make a sound! Or, I can’t write more than my own feelings, even if I know they want me to do WHAT! That was a pain! I don’t have the American dream! I have no likes or dislikes about any ism!” Zhang Ailing does not speak one sentence after another, there is often a deep void in that pause, and her eyes are also far and near, not necessarily falling on the person she is speaking to.She didn't want to have the opportunity to argue with others, so she would retract her words, and when she retracted, her gentle eyes fell on the person who was talking to her.She has never been so righteous, except in front of Ruihe. On a winter night, the moonlight shines on the snow, and all the white is echoing its brilliance.Everything exists between heaven and earth according to its own state. Zhang Ailing leaned over the desk with one knee to write, and the small characters fell obliquely all the way.Suddenly there was a gunshot, and she raised her head in shock, got up and fell to the dark window to look out.The night after the gunshots was quieter, filled with unspeakable terror and peril.Zhang Ailing felt scared. She wanted to go out with her shoes and clothes on and ask someone to ask, but she felt it was more dangerous to go out.In the dark forest, one house is far away from another.She sat there, immersing herself in her new novel: Yue Xiang sprinkled oil from the oil bottle around the pot, staring at the front hall, and at the same time quickly poured the cold rice into the pot.From time to time, people came and went in and out of the back kitchen, sometimes it was delivery people, and sometimes it was relatives who came to visit. They all passed the kitchen, they all smelled fried rice, and they all saw the man from the countryside sitting at the table with Yuexiang.The man propped his legs on his arms and leaned forward. In this posture, he didn't need to face people coming and going too much, and he didn't need to say hello too much. If Yuexiang pointed him out, he would respond in a daze. Jin Gen often ate there, sometimes he went late and missed some lunch, Yuexiang would cook some cold rice for him, and with a defiant look, he picked up the oil bottle and poured some into the pot.She didn't tell him that now the wife of the family came down to check their rice and briquettes every day, and made a fuss about how they were used up so quickly, implying that there was a new loophole.The maid is always unhappy when her family members come to visit her. While frying rice, Yuexiang calmly said what she should say.The fried rice was served hot in front of the man.The farmer looked guilty, unable to decide when to put down his chopsticks, because there were always people passing through the back kitchen.Yuexiang was squatting by the sink and brushing the duck's feet with an old toothbrush, while Jin Gen was behind her cooking rice. It was raining heavily outside, and Yue Xiang stood at the back door of the alley to send off Golden Root.Jin Gen was carrying a cloth bundle and holding an umbrella, and Yue Xiang told him in Shanghai dialect to take care of the children and greet those who should be greeted.She rubbed her hands on the apron, watching her man walking away through the puddles of the alley with an oiled paper umbrella... The next day, Zhang Ailing got up very late.The sun outside was so bright that people dare not look directly at it. The melted spring snow made the roads in the camp area muddy everywhere. Zhang Ailing stood by a road in a dilemma, not knowing how to get across.It happened that Ruihe passed by and enthusiastically stepped forward and said, "Come on! I'll hold you!" Ruihe took her hand and let her step over the muddy puddle under her feet, but she seemed clumsy. Encouraged by Ruihe, Zhang Ailing managed to jump over with great difficulty.Ruihe smiled humorously and said, "You know how to dance!" Eileen Chang smiled apologetically.They walked towards the hall of the art camp together, and saw Feng Weike approaching angrily, and said to them: "Someone hunted deer in the middle of the night, and Al failed to catch them!" Ruihe scolded angrily: "Executioner!" Eileen Chang hanged Yiye's heart was finally relieved, and things were not as terrible as she thought. When passing by Ruihe's cabin, he said it was cold and wanted to go in to get a piece of clothing.Zhang Ailing stood outside the door of the hut, rigidly unwilling to look into the room, for fear of seeing something embarrassing.Ruihe repeatedly invited her into the room, and then she reluctantly moved to the window, looked out of the window and said: "The scenery outside the window is very good!" Ruihe said meaningfully: "You can see it too, as long as you are willing to open the curtain!" Zhang Ailing heard his implication, and answered with silence.Ruihe continued to say with concern: "You need more sun!" He sat down and pressed his knees and complained: "When the snow melts, the pain in my knees really kills me!" Zhang Ailing shifted her fluttering gaze to him, and suggested: "Then don't take a walk! We can chat here!" Ruihe shook her head and laughed at herself and said: "No! There is only a decayed smell of an old man in my hut, we all need fresh air." Zhang Ailing was surprised to see Ruihe's published novel by her bedside inadvertently. And a little moved.She didn't know that Ruihe had worked so hard to get it from the library. He wanted to know more about China and add some topics between him and Zhang Ailing. Ruihe keenly captured the changes in Zhang Ailing's expression, so she said appreciatively: "I like it very much! The last chapter is really great!" Zhang Ailing showed a bright and undisguised smile for the first time: "You don't need to tell me about the good points, I know what I write very well! I'm glad you read it!" Ruihe said seriously: "It's very attractive, I can see the dawn!" Zhang Ailing hesitated for a moment and said: "If you want, I can show you a few chapters of the novel I'm writing. This is too much of a waste of your time, maybe wait until I finish writing..." Before Zhang Ailing finished speaking, Ruihe couldn't wait: "I am willing! I feel very honored!" Ruihe finally got his wish and read Zhang Ailing's novel. He wanted to explore the unknown world of this fascinating woman from the novel.He knows that people who are writing are usually unwilling to hand over their works to others. He was surprised by Zhang Ailing's trust, and he also took good care of this courage that is not easy to muster.However, the more I read, the more curious Ruihe became, where did this girl come from?What kind of family do you come from?What have you been through?What dreams are in her head?He was indulging in the corridors of Eileen Chang's writing and couldn't extricate himself. After several contacts, Zhang Ailing and Ruihe got along very well, and she learned the nutrients of happiness from it.They recited the collection of poems on a moonlit night, and Ruihe's voice was as mellow as a jar of old wine, which fascinated Eileen Chang.They raced tobogganing with campers, and Ruihe cheered for Eileen Chang as a cheerleader.The sled ran and bumped on the snow field, Zhang Ailing screamed loudly and laughed heartily. On this day, the spring is melting and the sun is sunny and warm.Ruihe and Zhang Ailing met for a walk on the path in the forest.Ruihe said as he walked: "Reading what you wrote, I am more curious about you. The same is true for China! It is like a big jigsaw puzzle, eager to get more pieces, so that I can spell out that world! I feel very ashamed that there is nothing like this. Read your novels knowingly." Zhang Ailing said without thinking: It is good to know nothing!Just to test how much the text can carry? Ruihe smiled: You know you are a good player! Suddenly, a ignorant deer appeared near them, and stopped to stare.Eileen Chang was very pleasantly surprised, and said: "Chinese people describe love suddenly coming to their hearts, and they say 'little deer bumping randomly'." If Ruihe realized something, he knew that this little deer was starting to hit his heart.They continued walking all the way. Ruihe wanted to let Zhang Ailing know herself better, so she said frankly: "One marriage is enough for me! She started the feminist movement at the age of sixteen. She is a very wonderful woman and gave birth to me. A wonderful daughter named Fays! Too bad I'm a tramp and like to go from here to there, marriage doesn't work for me, luckily I know myself so I didn't murder another woman!" Zhang Ailing knew his intentions sensitively, and asked, "Is it so bad?" Ruihe sighed and said: "I just don't believe in marriage! Maybe I don't want to repeat the same mistakes. Like my parents, morality, tradition, and belief are almost their whole life! They must drink vegetable soup every Friday, and must wear black on Sunday. Judaism liturgical ceremony. My mother didn’t even cry when my mother passed away, the saddest life ever… What about you?” Zhang Ailing turned around gracefully and said, "It's just like what you see!" She smiled, she didn't hide it deliberately, but she was just about to pick it up, and she found that she had lost it so thoroughly, and what she could hold in her memory at the moment was actually It's so thin and thin, just like her skinny body. When Ruihe saw Zhang Ailing like this, I felt pity for her, and felt hot, so she went to hold her hand, but she didn't refuse, just kept silent, not knowing what she was thinking.Rui He anxiously asked: "What's the matter?" Zhang Ailing looked at him, still speechless, she blamed Rui He in her heart, he held the girl's hand, but asked what was wrong, how could she answer? Ruihe put her hand into his pocket, and said softly: "You're going to freeze!" He murmured, half pity half surprised, "An American daddy?" Zhang Ailing looked down at the muddy path after the snow melted, and the fallen leaves and mud of a winter stuck to her shoes.She is not easy to be gentle with other people, like ice on a branch, it will melt when it sees the sun, and it will fall to the ground.But the sun was shining in the woods, all the white and crystals reflected golden light, and the fog was just about to dissipate.