Chapter 25 Twenty-five, passing water

Thousands of tastes in this world have already been tasted by our predecessors. How many warnings have been read, we will still involuntarily repeat the same mistakes, follow the path they walked, suffer the pain they suffered, and make the same mistakes. There is always a ship returning, and there is always a shore to take in.When we packed our bags and went down the river in a flat boat, we never thought that we would stop at a certain port forever.No matter what kind of unforgettable scenery you encounter, just put it in your backpack, take it with you as a journey experience, and cherish it for a lifetime.As a traveler, you must abide by the rules of passers-by. You can easily fall in love with a certain famous mountain or lake, but you cannot devote your whole life to it.But no one can stop the soul in which post, and the heart can go to any desired place, or the end of the world, or the cape.

Su Manshu returned to Shanghai from Qingdao, sat on the ship, looked at the vast sea, counted the flying gulls, and lamented that life is like an unstoppable journey.His heart still stays in the misty clouds and mists of Mount Lao, dreaming of snow waves and clouds on the moon-like peak.In the dream, he was a Taoist priest holding a whisk, begging the gods to visit the immortals in the lost world of the sea of ​​clouds.Another monk with a Zen stick in his hand floated towards the Buddha's light on the golden top, ending all love in the world.After waking up, he was still Su Manshu, carrying yesterday's heavy luggage and walking in the real today.The reason why he has a complex of reluctance to Laoshan is because deep in his heart he also longs for the tranquility of pure water, where he can float in the sea of ​​clouds without being bound by the world of mortals.

Passionate since ancient times has nothing to hate, and good dreams are the easiest to wake up from.Thousands of tastes in this world have already been tasted by our predecessors. How many warnings have been read, we will still involuntarily repeat the same mistakes, follow the path they walked, suffer the pain they suffered, and make the same mistakes.Knowing that there will be no elixir of immortality in this world, how many emperors and generals continue to seek it.This attachment is human nature. Maybe Su Manshu doesn't want to live forever, but he hopes to fall into the sea of ​​clouds, cliffs and mist to avoid the reincarnation of the world.It is regrettable to wake up hastily from a good dream, but soon you will fall into another dream.

In Shanghai, Su Manshu lived in Sun Yat-sen's residence on Huanlong Road.Although what he said was still a life of no fixed place, he was no longer so down and out. The help of his friends made him appreciate the warmth of true love in the world.Su Manshu felt that he was more fragile than before. In the past, he was always in good weather, but now he was looking forward to a warm nest where he could have a good rest.These days, whether it is writing, painting, or revolution, he feels a little powerless, and even gathering with friends feels tired, and the troubles of the world come one after another.Why can't reading the Bible every day relieve some of the burden?He had a premonition that he was destined to rub shoulders with the Buddha in this life, and could only toss and turn in the world of mortals, year after year.

How much he loved the revolutionary cause, hoping that he could stand at the forefront of the times and independently resist the storms of the world; he hoped that he could grind himself into powder and boil it into tea so that all living beings could drink it and avoid disasters.Over the past decade or so, he has joined many revolutionary organizations, obsessed with propagating anarchist ideas of national salvation.In Shanghai, he participated in the translation work of "National Daily" founded by Zhang Shizhao and others, and did a lot of work to support Zhang Taiyan and Zou Rong and oppose the Qing government's seizure of "Su Bao".In addition to the last anti-Yuan struggle, it seems that he has been left behind.But Su Manshu deeply regrets that there are so few people he can save.It is said that only by saving yourself first can you save others. In the past few years, he has always been suffering from illnesses, too much burnout, and too much delay.

Fame in ancient times quietly appeared on the stage when it was unknown, and then ended sadly amidst the sound of gongs and drums.How many people have been deeply locked up by fame and fortune, and vowed to be a knight who rides the horse and whips and gallops on the battlefield.But one day he took off his robes and buried his sword deep in the mountains. He just wanted to live in a simple hut, invite a few old friends, roll up his sleeves to make tea, and play chess freely.When they meet in the Chuhe-Han realm, they will be merciful, not as powerful as they were back then.A person's state of mind will change with the annual rings. Some people have no regrets for their past enthusiasm, while others lament that they should not miss their beauty because of their future.If it is possible to do it all over again, those soldiers who have spent their entire lives in the army might prefer to be a woodcutter in the mountains, cutting wages during the day and sharpening their knives at night. Does the sound of sharpening knives also reveal the murderous intent to compete with the world?In my spare time, I wear capes and hats to go fishing on the river bank, and visit the old man next door to buy wine together.

Su Manshu had never begged for fame. He was just a monk in cassock, with a bamboo stick and straw sandals, and his sleeves were clean.Go to Fireworks and Willow Alley when you are free and unrestrained, and sing and dance with kabuki.When you are down and down, ask the years for a sum of spare money to make ends meet.Many people were tempted by his legendary stories, infected by his freedom and ease, and wanted to catch up with him and play a happy game with him in this world of fireworks.However, he passed by quickly, splashing mud all over you.Although his life is incomplete, these incompleteness is precisely the most touching beauty.

Su Manshu left Shanghai and came to Hangzhou, where he met the early snow in West Lake in October.It is said that no matter where a romantic person goes, he will meet romance. There are many encounters in his life, some are accidental and some are inevitable.The falling snowflakes turned into the cold water of a lake, and the withered stalks and residual lotus that had not been salvaged were covered by pure white snowflakes, adding an ethereal reverie to the sentimental poet.The snowflakes all over the sky are like Su Manshu's flood of love when he was young, he did not listen to dissuasion, and acted willfully.Now he just wants to exist quietly and dutifully, but the graceful Feixue peeked at the love that still exists in his heart for no reason.He is like a lost passerby, quietly picking up waste along the traces of the past.

I never thought about it, but I still let him meet after all.A woman riding an oil wall car sings in the snow on the long Su Causeway.The scene of deja vu made Su Manshu feel like falling into a dream, and when the car slowly rolled over him, Su Manshu was startled by the Qiaoxi looking back.He knew that she was not the little girl who looked like Su back then, because the youthful and aggressive look on her face.That woman should be getting older, she should be tired of watching the world, tired of reading human affairs, and she will no longer have the interest to sing and laugh in the West Lake.The snowflakes hit his face, making him feel a cold sting, Su Manshu laughed at himself, the encounter with Xiangche and BMW had long since ceased to exist.The reunion he was looking forward to could only be in a dream, and he had to wait five hundred years for a shoulder brushing, and he accidentally missed the fate he had paid in advance.

I missed the flowers that bloomed yesterday, and I missed the green buds of today.This October, Su Manshu traveled between Shanghai and Hangzhou.Shanghai is reality, and West Lake is a dreamland. Walking on the edge of dream and waking, he feels that he will not grow old so quickly.In November, Su Manshu published the novel "The Broken Hairpin" in the "New Youth" magazine edited by Chen Duxiu.His "Broken Hairpin Story", with the West Lake as the background and Zen Buddhism as the background, naturally writes about the fate of the world, but it ends in tragedy. I can't forget the sentence "The good things in life are gone", yes, the love in the past is irreversible, and in the story that cannot change the ending, we all have to accept separation calmly.Su Manshu wanted to make himself the protagonist of the novel and arrange a perfect ending for himself, but he didn't know who was the last woman he entrusted with so many beauties in the story.After several times of thinking, he still couldn't give a definite answer. At this time, the curtain of youth had come to an end, so he had no choice but to give up.Let your own story be yesterday, and let others replace you.

In the late winter, Su Manshu hid in the hut and wrote the novel "The Tale of Human Ghosts". With a warm fire burning and tea being boiled, he was indulging in the mysterious and ethereal world alone, writing about the romance between humans and ghosts.According to Su Manshu's "Book with Liu Bannong" in West Lake in November: "Recently, the disease has been cured less, and the book "The Story of Human Ghosts" has more than a thousand words." Like the first "The End of the World, Red Tears", he left before finishing the draft.Perhaps we can all guess the plot of the novel. The male protagonist should be a young monk, and the female protagonist should be a ghost who died unjustly.One can imagine what will happen to them.Only such an ending will be haunting. Can ghosts really meet?If so, then maybe we can live without fear of death.Even if you can't, it's meaningless. After thousands of reincarnations, you can meet again on the Naihe Bridge one day.I'm afraid that at that time, you were not the original you, and I was not the original me.