Chapter 2 a childhood dream

a childhood dream Learn to draw memories I entered a private school when I was seven or eight years old. I read first and then again.There is a picture on the top of each page. I remember that the first picture is an elephant and a man plowing the field. I later learned that this is the picture of Shun plowing the field in the Twenty-Four Filial Piety.But I didn't know what the painting meant at the time. I just thought it was more interesting to look at the painting at the top than to read "The cloud is light and the wind is light and the sky is near noon" below.My family runs a dye shop, and I asked the dyer for some pigments, melted them in a small cup, and dipped a pen into them to color the monochrome paintings in the book, painting a red elephant, a blue man, and a purple field. , complacent.But the paper of that book is not Daolin paper, but very thin Chinese paper, the color is painted on the upper paper, and seeps through several layers below.My paint pen is full again and penetrates deeper.Waiting to be lustful, I opened the book and took a look. On the next seven or eight pages, there were a red elephant, a blue man and a purple field, which seemed to be overprinted with a three-color plate.

When I was going to class the next day, my father—that is, my husband— scolded me and almost beat me on the palm of my hand; my mother and elder sister persuaded me, so I finally stopped.I cried a bit and hid the paint cup under the escalator.In the evening, when my father went to the opium den, I took out the paint cup from the bottom of the escalator and asked Hongying—the maid who took care of me—to go to the store to steal some coal paper, which was half the table under the escalator. Draw paint under the kerosene lamp on the table.Draw a red man, a blue dog, a purple house... The original appreciator of these paintings was Hongying.Later, my mother and sisters also saw it, and they all said "yes"; but I didn't show it to my father, lest I eat the palm of my hand.

Later, when my father was drying the books, I saw a figure drawing book with many patterns in it, so I secretly took it out and hid it in my drawer.At night, I secretly took it to the half table under the escalator to show Hongying.This time I don't want to color in the book; I want to draw a few pictures, but I can't draw a picture.Fortunately, Hongying wanted to do a good job; she taught me to tear off a piece of paper from the copybook and printed the sketch.I remember that the portrait of Liu Liuzhou on the character book was first printed and traced.At that time, I had no experience in printing for the first time. The ink on the pen was too full, and the paper on the copybook was too thin. In the end, the tracing was completed, but the original paper was soaked in ink and made it very dirty. scold.This book still exists today. When I was drying out old books, I found this dirty portrait of Liu Liuzhou: wearing a very long robe, with arms stretched high to the left and right, and head raised in a laughing gesture.But the whole body is covered with beautiful ink dots, which I printed that day.Thinking back to the reason why I printed this painting in the first place, it was probably because he raised his arms high and laughed, like his father yawning, so I was particularly interested.Later, my "printing" technique gradually improved.When I was about twelve or thirteen years old (my father had passed away and I was studying in another private school), I had already printed all of this genealogy of characters.The paper used is snow-white Lianshi paper, and the printed pictures are all colored.The pigments used for coloring are still in the dyeing workshop, but the original colors are not reused.I can match all kinds of secondary colors and apply complex and gorgeous colors on the paintings. The students in the same school are very happy when they see it. Everyone says, "It's much better than the original one!" And everyone asks me for a painting, Take it and stick it in the kitchen as Kitchen God Bodhisattva; or stick it in front of the bed as "flower paper" bought in the New Year.

At that time, we were making paintings in private schools, just like smoking opium in today's society, and we dared not disclose them publicly.I seem to be a local dealer or a smuggler who smoked lamps, and my classmates seem to be addicted to opium ghosts, and everyone is secretly doing business.When Mr. was in the library, our painting tools and paintings were hidden away, and everyone read the book "Children's Learning" with a sway. In the afternoon, as usual, a big guy came to drag Mr. out for tea, and we took it out to paint.I printed them one by one, and then painted them one by one.Like registering with a doctor when seeing a doctor, the students identify the paintings they want one by one.

Those who get to paint have a kind of reward for me, but it is not a manuscript fee or a pen, but various things: a pair of golden bells with paper boxes; an empty old diamond shell, which can be used as a spinning top with a rope; One piece of Shunzhi copper coin with the word "cloud" (some Shunzhi copper coins have a character behind it, and there are twenty kinds of characters in total. When we were children, we heard adults say that we accumulated a set, weaved it into the shape of a sword, and hung it on the bed. Even ghosts dare not approach them. But among them, the word "cloud" seems to be the most difficult to get; often because of the lack of this word, swords cannot be made. Therefore, this kind of copper coin was a precious gift between us at that time ), or a copper pipe (that is, the shell of the breech-loading gun bullet used on the gunboat at that time).Once, two classmates had a conflict of opinion in order to exchange a painting, and they got into a fight, which was discovered by the husband.Under interrogation, the husband knew that the reason for the fight was for the painting; after looking for the source of the painting, he knew that it was my work, so he sternly called me to go over.I guessed that I had eaten the ruler, so I lowered my head and ignored it, but I felt the heat in my palm.Finally Mr. came over.I was scared out of my wits; but he came to my seat, didn't hold my hand, but asked me "Did you draw this painting?" I answered "Yes", ready to eat the ruler.He pulled me away, drew my drawer, and searched.My drawing books, paints, and printed but uncolored paintings were all found by him.I thought these things were all confiscated: it turned out not to be the case, but he took the paintings and sat on his chair to look at them one by one.After a long while, the gentleman turned his head and shouted, "read!" Everyone read aloud, "the beginning of chaos, the beginning of the universe..." The case stopped.I peeked at Mr. and saw him flipping through the sheet music one by one until the end.When I was on vacation, I took my schoolbag and walked up to him to make a bow. He said to me in a different tone, "I'll give you this book tomorrow."

When I went to the school tomorrow morning, my husband took out the portrait of Confucius in the picture book and said to me: "Can you draw a big one like this?" I didn't expect that my husband would ask me to draw a picture, and I felt a little "flattered", so I replied "Yes" hesitantly.In fact, I have always just "printed", not "enlarged".The word "able" was intimidated by the majesty of the husband.After I said it, my heart felt stuffy for a while, as if a big stone had been swallowed in my stomach.The husband continued: "I'm going to buy a piece of paper, and you enlarged the picture for me, and I want to color it." I could only say "OK".When the students saw that Mr. asked me to draw, everyone pretended to be surprised and envious, and looked at me.But I was full of worries until the holiday.

When I was on vacation, I took my schoolbag and a piece of paper that my husband gave me to go home, and went to discuss with my elder sister.My elder sister taught me to use a piece of paper with square grids and put it in the middle of the writing of the picture book.The notation paper is very thin, and the statue of Confucius is covered by a latitude and longitude grid.The eldest sister took me a sewing ruler and a bag of chalk and made a large square grid on the big paper that my husband gave me, then took out the willow branch she used to draw eyebrows from the mirror box, burned it, and taught me According to the method of zooming in on the square grid.At that time, we didn't have pencils, settables, or meter rulers at home. Now I think back to the drawing method my elder sister taught me. Its cleverness is really admirable.Following her instructions, I actually traced a rough sketch of a statue of Confucius with willow branches; it was exactly the same as the one on the picture book, but much larger, about the size of my own body.With great interest, I drew lines with a brush; I mixed a large amount of paint with a large basin, and colored it, and a bright, gorgeous and great Confucius portrait appeared on the paper.The clerks in the store and the stewardesses in the workshop saw this portrait of Confucius, and everyone said "excellent!" There were also a few old women, Yu Jia warmly praised my "smartness", and said: "In the future, brother, give me a picture of Confucius!" Draw a portrait, hang it in front of the soul after death, and get some scenery." I have become a little painter amidst the reputation of many clerks, stewards and old ladies.But when I heard that the old lady wanted to entrust me with a portrait, I felt a little panicked.Originally, I could only "paint a gourd according to the same pattern".Thanks to the magnified grid, the small paintings on the book were transformed into my "masterpieces"; and all due to the color embellishments, the line drawings on the book were transformed into my "paintings".The enlarging grid was taught to me by my eldest sister, and the paint was given to me by the dyer's secretary. The work that belongs to my own name is still only "painting gourds in the same way".Now the old lady wants me to draw a portrait, saying "can't draw" is hurtful; how can I honor it in the future if I say "can draw"?And without answering, first hand over the painting to Mr.Mr. nodded.The next day the painting was pasted on the wall under the hall name plaque.Students come to the school every morning and bow to it with their schoolbags in their hands; they bow to it again at night when they leave school.So do I.

Since my "masterpiece" was published in front of the school, my classmates gave me the nickname "painter".The big man who visited Mr. every day looked at the painting, nodded and said to Mr.: "Yes." At this time, the school was just beginning to flourish, and Mr. suddenly wanted to greatly improve our private school.He bought an organ, practiced it for a few days, and then taught us to sing the song "A man with high ambition is the first, and he might as well be young".Another friend was invited to teach us gymnastics.We are all very happy.One day, my husband called me over, took out a book and a large piece of yellow cloth, and said kindly to me, "Draw a dragon on the yellow cloth for me." Then he opened the book and continued: "Like this dragon." It turned out that this is the national flag used in gymnastics.I accepted this order, so I had to discuss it with my eldest sister again; I used the old method to enlarge the dragon, and then drew lines and colored it.But this time the paints are not from the dye shop, but lead powder, kraft glue and red, yellow and blue paints bought by my husband.I boiled the kraft glue, added lead powder, prepared various opaque paints, and painted them on yellow cloth, similar to the fresco painting method in the Western Middle Ages.Once the dragon flag was drawn, it was hung high on a bamboo pole to guide the students through the town to go to the field for gymnastics.Since then, my reputation as a "painter" has increased; and the portrait of the old lady has been pressed even tighter.

I will discuss it with my elder sister.She said that my second sister-in-law could paint portraits, and told me to go to his house to "steal her."When I went to my second sister's husband's house, I saw that they had all kinds of special painting tools: Glass nine-square grid, rubbing pen, meter ruler, and triangular board.I asked my second sister-in-law for some painting techniques, borrowed some painting tools, and borrowed a photo of Yishi as a model for practice.Because there was no photo studio in our hometown at that time, and there were no four-inch half-length photos that could be enlarged with glass grids at home.After returning home, I buried my head in brushing and taking pictures every day after school.This is for the old lady's request to "cradle Buddha's feet"; but she didn't take a picture, there was only one person.My glass lattice couldn't cover her face, so I couldn't make a portrait of her.Things in the world will be solved skillfully.My elder sister chose a photo of an old woman from a package of samples I borrowed, and said, "Make this person's chin sharper, and he will look like our old lady." I followed my plan, and sure enough Painted a half-and-half portrait, plus beautiful pastels on top of the rubbing brush: pink muscles, emerald blue blouse, floral lace trim; plus a pair of golden bead earrings on the ears.When the old lady saw the bead earrings, her heart was in full bloom, and she said "like" even though she didn't look like them at all.Since then, when a relative died, I had a job--portrait.The living relatives also took a small photo and asked me to enlarge it and hang it in the wing room; it is ready to be moved and hung before the funeral in the future.I went out to study at the age of seventeen, and I often accepted this kind of voluntary business when I returned home during annual and summer vacations.It was not until I was nineteen years old that I learned charcoal sketching from Mr. Cong and read treatises on fine arts before I gave up this career.Up to now, among several old uncles and old ladies in my hometown, my reputation as a portrait painter with rubbing brushes is still alive; but most of them think that I "refuse" to paint recently, and they no longer come to ask me for advice.The year before last, an old lady sent a four-inch photo of her newly deceased husband to my apartment in Shanghai, begging me to take a picture.I have been unfamiliar with this way for a long time, and I have no painting tools, and I have no time and interest.But I couldn't explain it to her, so I sent the photos to a photo studio and asked them to enlarge them to 24 inches and send them.After that, no one cares about it.

If I had learned charcoal sketching and been guided by art treatises earlier, I would not have taken this rough path in my learning of painting.Alas, ridiculous memories, shameful memories, written here, as a reference for those who study painting. Dream marks I have a scar on my left forehead that is as long as my eyebrows.This is formed when I fell through the head on the threshold in my childhood game.Mr. Physiognomy said that this is a disfigurement, which is a defect.But I call it "Dream Mark".For this is the only vestige left of my dreamlike childhood.From this trace, I can explore the beautiful dreams of my childhood.

When I was four or five years old, one day, in order to "send off" (a custom in my hometown, when a relative's child came to visit for the first time, when he resigned, the host would make some steamed buns for him, called "send off" ) The young guests of a certain house, mother, aunt, aunt and sisters are all making rice noodle buns.In the middle of the hall is a large plaque, and in the center of the plaque is a large plate containing a large pile of clay-like rice noodles and a large bowl of sweet bean paste for filling.The mothers sat around the big plaque.Everyone rolled up their sleeves, picked a piece of rice noodles from the plate, and shaped it into a bowl; took a chopstick of bean paste and hid it in the bowl; then closed the mouth of the bowl to make a ball. Then pinch the circle into a triangle by hand, and twist out three spines with a twisted silk pattern; finally, a red "shou" character is printed on the central point of the spine, and the bun is made.They are displayed circle by circle in the large plaque, which looks very beautiful.Everyone was talking and laughing happily while doing it.Sometimes it is said that someone's cooking is too small, and whose cooking is too big; sometimes Sheng said that his aunt's cooking was too exquisite, and sometimes he said with a smile that his mother's cooking was like a pancake.The sound of laughter filled the room.This is a rare time of the year for the whole family to laugh.But for me, as a child, I have more joy on this kind of day; when preparing to make buns, I have to eat a bowl of sweet bean paste first.When making it, I just need to make a noise, and the mothers will make another small bun for me to eat on the spot. Fresh rice noodles and fresh red bean paste, cooked hot and eaten, the taste is very good.I often don't eat enough of one, and I have to eat a second one after a while.If it's not enough to eat the second one, I will clamor to stamp their birthday marks for them.This mark is not easy to make: if you dip it in too much water, it will be a mess when you print it, and you will not be able to see the character of longevity; If it is broken, it cannot be erased or altered.So I clamored to print the child, which is what mothers fear most.They will discuss with me, and give me a small grain of rice noodles that they picked off when making dumplings, and tell me to "make it by myself and eat it by myself." This is exactly the main purpose I hope for!After this rule is opened, the rice noodles that everyone picks off when making dumplings must belong to me as usual.When it is not enough, you have to ask to twist a handful of rice noodles into the big plate, and freely fabricate various clay crafts: knead a person, get together, and knead a dog; knead again, and knead a hookah pipe... Knead When the filth in my hands is mixed into it, and the white rice noodles turn gray, I ask them for a bean paste, wrap it into various different things, and eat it in my stomach.Because I made a lot of noise that day, my aunt made two small and exquisite buns for me to eat, and my mother picked a ball of rice noodles for me to play with.In order to be free, I didn't play with it on the field, but took it to the shop and played with my fifth brother.The fifth elder brother, I later found out that he was an apprentice in our shop, but at the time I only knew that he was my dearest childhood companion.He is older than me, smarter than me, and braver than me. He often does all kinds of things that I didn't expect, which surprised me.One day I took out the steamed stuffed buns and rice noodles to play with him, and he found some small red clay seals of the Indian Noodle Bodhisattva and taught me the Indian Rice Noodle Bodhisattva. Later we got into an argument, he took his rice noodle Bodhisattva and ran away, so I took my rice noodle Bodhisattva to chase after him.After chasing to the side of the row gate, I fell down and knocked my forehead on the threshold of the row, and knocked a hole the size of an eye, and then fell into a coma.By the time I became conscious, I had already been held in my mother's arms, and Mr. Cai Deben, the surgeon, was wrapping my head with cloth strips one after another. Since I fell and injured, the fifth brother came upstairs to check on me every day when he was free in the store.When I come here, I must secretly find some things I like to play with from my sleeves-such as a few click beetles locked in the matchbox, human heads made of foreign parchment, little feet made of old diamond shells, and Shunzhi copper ingots. Grinded knives, etc. - give them to me to play with until this scar forms on my forehead. Speaking of the origin of the scar on my forehead, the most vivid person in my memory is none other than Fifth Brother.And all kinds of amazing and gratifying things about my fifth brother, and my childhood joys, followed this memory and vividly came to the front of my eyes. The mischievousness of his behavior surprises me even now when I think of it.But this kind of behavior was very attractive to me at the time, making me follow him all the time and be his follower voluntarily.He caught a big centipede with his hands, took off its poisonous claws, and hid it in his sleeve. He went everywhere and took it out to scare people at any time.I followed him, admiring his tricks.Sometimes he secretly put this centipede on someone else's melon hat, and let it crawl down the person's forehead, making the person jump up in fright.Sometimes I go to the pit with this centipede in my arms, and when the climber waiting for the next seat is pulling dung, I throw the centipede on his pants, making the person twist his pants and jump around, tired and covered in dung.Sometimes he secretly put this centipede on his forehead in front of everyone, pretending to be bitten, and burst into tears, which made the whole audience panic and rushed to rescue him.At the moment of life and death, he stretched out his hand to clean up the centipede, suddenly burst into tears, and escaped with a wisp of smoke.Later, this trick was gradually worn out, and some people warned him that if he took out the centipede again, he would be punched to the head and neck.So he changed into another trick: he hid at the door, waiting for the warning that the person who punched the head and neck would come out, suddenly yelled, and fell on the ground by the threshold, rolling around, crying, saying yes I trampled on a big snake with thick arms, but the snake had already got under the couch.The people who came out of the door were frightened by him, and they were really out of their wits; but seeing that his suffering was deeper than his, they had no choice but to blame him for their bad luck.He saw a group of people squatting on the shore fishing, so he joined in and chatted with the squatting people.At the same time, he secretly tied the ends of the braids of the two people who were close to each other, and walked away by himself, hiding in the distance to watch from the sidelines.If one of the two people who are tied gets up and wants to leave, a farce is put on for him.There are too many such villains to enumerate. Thinking back on his play now, it was really close to a sadistic joke.But at that time, I was not the only child who was enthusiastically creating and appreciating.Serious educator in the world, please forgive his naughtiness a little!When we were children, we secretly played an origami handicraft in a private school. The teacher used a copper pen sleeve to nail a few times on the frontal bone, and also kneeled an incense stick in front of the god of the most holy teacher Confucius! Besides, our fifth brother also used his intelligence and technology to invent all kinds of interesting things, I can still be fascinated when I think about it now.In late spring, he took me to the fields to steal new broad beans.The tender ones are eaten raw, and the old ones are used to make "broad bean water dragon".The method is to smoke the old broad bean pods half-cooked with coal paper torch, cut off the lower end, and pinch the two beans in the pods from the lower end, and then cut off the top of the pod a little to make a Small hole.Then put the bean pods in the water, and when it is full of water, take it out by pinching the lower end with the fingers of one hand, and then squeeze the bean pods hard with the fingers of the other hand, and a long and thin strip of water will flow from the small top of the bean pods. Shot from the hole.The production method is exquisite, and the water can reach a distance of one or two feet.He also taught me how to make the "bean stem flute": Pick a tender pea stem about an inch long, put one end in your mouth and chew it lightly, and when you blow it, it will make a squeeling sound.Then pick the lower part of the broad bean stalk, which is about four or five inches long, and use your fingers to make a few holes evenly on the stalk to make it look like a bean.Then insert the pea stalk into one end of the flute, open and close the holes with the fingers of both hands and play it, the sound is like a cavityless piccolo.He also taught me to use the oil of foreign candles to make various castings and shapes.Various printing plates are engraved with taro or sweet potato, which are similar to today's woodblock prints. ... and things like this are too numerous to enumerate. Now I am far from these childhood pleasures.But when talking about the origin of the scar on my forehead, I can still warmly recall the lively fifth brother and this kind of high-spirited stuff.Who says the scar on my left forehead is a flaw?It is a testament to my childhood joy, a vestige of my golden age.The past, everything is wiped out like a dream, and no trace remains.Only this scar seems to be the golden seal on my face during the "Twenty Spine Sticks, Stabbed with Junzhou", which permanently and clearly records the past facts, and I can vividly recall the past when I talk about it.It was as if I had committed a crime in my original place in the children's world, and was assigned to this "far-evil military state" of adult society.Although this indefinite exile makes me never have the hope of returning home, but with the golden seal on my face, I can go back to the past and pursue the beautiful dream of my hometown! remember childhood one When I recall my childhood, there are three things that cannot be forgotten. The first is silkworm rearing.That was when my grandmother was in Japan when I was five or six years old.My grandmother was an expansive and fun-loving person.Not only are good days and festivals not to be let go lightly, even sericulture is held on a large scale every year.In fact, I only realized after I grew up that my grandmother's silkworm breeding was not just for profit, and Ye Gui often lost money in her years, but she liked the embellishment of late spring, so it was held on a large scale every year.What I was most happy with was Silkworm Landing Shop at first.At that time, in our three-bay hall, there were silkworms on the floor, with springboards for warp and weft, so as to pass through and feed the leaves.Uncle Jiang Wu took a load to the field to pick leaves, and my sisters and I followed to eat mulberries.When the silkworms landed in the shop, the mulberries were already very purple and sweet, much more delicious than red bayberries.After we were full, we made a bowl out of a big leaf, picked a bowl of mulberries, and came back with Jiang Wubo.Jiang Wubo was feeding silkworms, and I used to walk on the springboard for fun. I often stumbled and fell into the bed, crushing many silkworm babies to death.Grandma hurriedly called Uncle Jiang Wu to pick me up and forbid me to leave.However, this springboard full of houses is like a chessboard street, and it is very low, and it is not afraid to walk at all, which is really interesting.What a rare annual treat!So despite my grandmother's ban, I always have to go every day. After the silkworm went up the mountain, the whole family guarded silently. At that time, the children were not allowed to make noise, and I felt dull for a while.However, after a few days, cocoons were picked and silk was made, and the lively air became thicker again.As usual, we invite Niuqiaotou Qi Niangniang to make silk every year.Jiang Wubo buys loquats and soft cakes every day for those who pick cocoons, make silk, and light fires.Everyone seems to think that now is a hard and hopeful time, and they should enjoy this snack, and eat it unceremoniously.I also eat a lot of loquats and soft cakes every day without any merit, which is another pleasure. When Qi Niangniang was resting while making silk, she held a hookah and showed me the short half of her little finger on her left hand, and said to me: When making silk, you must never go near the back of the silk cart. My little finger was accidentally rolled off by a wire axle rod when I was a child.She also said: "Little boy, don't go near the back of the silk cart, just sit next to me, eat loquat, eat soft cakes. There are also silkworm chrysalis made from silk, ask mother to fry them with oil, it's really delicious !” However, I still don’t want to eat silkworm chrysalis, probably because my father and sisters don’t want to eat them.All I was happy about was the extraordinary atmosphere in my home at that time.The windows, long platforms, and chairs of the Eight Immortals, which are fixed in daily life, are all piled up side by side, and turned into unusual silk carts, plaques, and vats, and snacks can be eaten openly one after another. After the silk was ready, Jiang Wubo sang "I want to eat loquats, let's eat silkworms in the coming year", packed up the silk carts, and restored all the furnishings.I feel a kind of exhausted loneliness.However, for this transformation, I also find it novel and interesting. Now when I recall what happened here, it often fascinates me!Grandmother, Jiang Wubo, Qi Niangniang, and the sisters are all like characters in fairy tales.And in my opinion, the protagonist of their play at that time was me.What sweet memories!It’s just the subject matter of this play. Now that I think about it, I don’t think it’s good: raising silkworms to make silk is a happy livelihood, but it itself is the slaughter of tens of thousands of creatures!The so-called silkworm feeding is raising prisoners; the so-called silk reeling is firing fire!It turned out that the background of this kind of joy and happiness at that time was the massacre of living beings!If I had known this, I would have decided not to eat their mulberries, loquats, and soft cakes.I recently read "Xiqing Sanji" and saw two verses of immortals in it: "Self-woven lotus root silk shirt is tender, poor and hard-working pardon spring silkworms." Ande also invented a silk cart for weaving lotus root silk in the world, and pardoned all the people in the world. The life of the spring silkworm! My grandmother died when I was seven years old, and my family stopped raising silkworms.Not long after, my father and all my sisters and brothers died one after another, the family fortune declined, and my happy childhood also passed away.So this memory, on the one hand, fascinates me forever, and on the other hand, it makes me eternally regret it. two The second thing I can't forget is my father's Mid-Autumn Festival viewing of the moon, and the core of the joy of watching the moon is eating crabs. After my father won the Juren, the imperial examination was abolished. He stayed at home with nothing to do, eating wine and reading every day.He does not eat sheep, beef and pork, but likes to use fish and shrimp.And for crabs, especially happy.From July to August until winter, my father usually eats a crab and a bowl of hot dried tofu bought from the tofu shop next door.His evening drink is always at dusk.A kerosene lamp on the Eight Immortals table, a purple clay jug, a crumbled tureen for hot dried tofu, a hookah, a book, and an old cat sitting upright on the corner of the table, this impression is in my mind It is so deep that it can still emerge clearly up to now.I watched from the sidelines, and sometimes he gave me a crab leg or half a piece of dried tofu.But I like crab legs.The taste of crab is really good. Five or six of us sisters and brothers all like to eat it, which is also the reason why my father likes to eat it.Only my mother is the opposite of us. She likes to eat meat, but she doesn't like to eat crabs. When eating, her fingers are often pricked by the thorns on the claws of the crabs, bleeding, and she is very picky. My father often said that she was a layman.My father said: Eating crabs is an elegant thing, and the way to eat it requires an expert to understand.First break the crab legs, then open the crab bucket... How can the meat in the fists (that is, joints) on the feet be eaten clean, and how can the meat in the navel be removed... The claws can be used as needles for removing meat... The bones can be put together to make a good butterfly... My father is really good at eating crabs, and he eats them very cleanly.So Mother Chen said: "The crab shells that the master ate are really crab shells." The storage place for crabs is in the tank in the corner of the patio.There are always five or six of them. At Qixi Festival, July and a half, Mid-Autumn Festival, Double Ninth Festival and other festivals, the crabs in the tank will be full. At that time, we all have to eat, and each of us has to eat a large crab, or one and a half crabs.Especially on the day of Mid-Autumn Festival, the interest is even stronger.In the late evening, move the table to eat under the moonlight on the white field next door.It was even more quiet, and at the end of the Ming Dynasty, there were only our family members, who happened to form a table, and there was only Hongying, who was on an errand, sitting beside him.Talking and laughing, looking at the moon, they—father and sisters—until the moon set, I fell asleep halfway, and separated from my father and sisters. This was originally held for the father's crab addiction and centered on eating crabs.Therefore, this kind of night banquet is not limited to the Mid-Autumn Festival, and there are moon nights in the crab season, and it must be held several times for no reason.But it's not a good day, so we eat less, and sometimes two people share one.We all learned from our father, peeled very finely, and the meat was not eaten immediately, but was stored in the crab bucket. After peeling, put a little ginger vinegar, mix it, and serve it as a meal, nothing else dish.Because my father is very economical in eating vegetables, and he said that crab is the most delicious.Mixing other dishes with crab is boring.We also imitated him, half a crab bucket of crab meat, if there is still more than two bowls of rice, you can get the praise of your father, and you can eat the rest of the crab meat for free, so everyone encourages saving.Thinking back to that time now, half a crab leg would cost two mouthfuls of rice, it tasted really good!I haven't tasted this good taste since my father died.Now that I'm a father myself, I'm a vegetarian, and of course I'll never do it again.well!Childhood joy, how fascinated me! However, the theme of this drama is still the killing and cruelty of living beings!At that time, the background of our family reunion was killing animals.I used to be part of the Killers, for my father's pleasure.Eating blood has been the habit of ordinary people for thousands of years. However, killing living beings, especially killing living beings to feed one's own life and satisfy one's own food, is always unnatural and should not be done in return for the original intention of human beings.Literati have praised eating crabs, such as "holding claws in the right hand and cup in the left", and "crabs are fattening in deep autumn". Authors and readers are all trapped in habits and praise its elegance.If you look at the original intentions, kill a crab and hold its claws, see the fat of the crab and start to kill, what beauty is there, and is it worthy of praise in poetry? So this memory, on the one hand, fascinates me forever, and on the other hand, it makes me eternally regret it. three The third thing that can't be forgotten is the friendship with Wang Tongtong who is in the tofu shop next door, and the center of this friendship is fishing. That was when I was twelve or thirteen years old.The king boy in the tofu shop next door was the eldest brother among my friends at that time.He is an only child, and his mother, grandmother, and uncle love him very much. They give him a lot of money and toys, and let him play outside every day.His family lives next door to mine.People in my family go to the market every day, and they have to pass by the door of his tofu shop. People from the two families meet and communicate with each other day and night. The children also meet day and night and communicate with each other.In addition, his family seems to have a deep friendship with my family that is more than a neighbor, so his family is very kind to my family. His grandmother often brings home-produced dried tofu and tofu clothes to my father.At the same time, among the children, Wang Juan is also very kind to me. He is older than me, stronger than me, and has a richer life than me. When we play together, he always guides me and takes care of me, just like an elder brother treats a child. younger brother.We sometimes chat and laugh on the couch in my family's dyeing shop, and sometimes travel together.Every time his grandmother saw us playing together, she would tell him to take good care of me and not to scold each other.I heard people say that his family seemed to have been in trouble, and my father had helped them, so the adults in his family asked Wang to take care of me. I didn't know how to fish at first, it was Wang who taught me.He asked his uncle to buy two sets of fishing rods, one for me and one for himself.He went to the rice bucket to catch a lot of rice worms, soaked them in a can filled with water, and led me to the wooden field bridge to go fishing.He taught me how to catch a rice worm first, and put the hook through the tail of the worm to the head.Then let the water go.He also said: "As soon as the floating ball moves, you have to pull it immediately, then the hook will catch the fish's jaw, and the fish will not be able to escape." I followed his teaching and tested, and sure enough, I caught more than a dozen white stripes on the first day. He helped me pull the fishing rod. The next day, he had half a can of culled flies in his hand.Come ask me to go fishing again.On the way, he said to me: "It doesn't have to be rice bugs, it's better to fish with flies. Fish like to eat flies!" We caught a small bucket of various fish that day.When I got home, he sent the fish bucket to my house and said he didn't want it.My mother asked Hongying to cook for a while and serve me dinner. Since then, I have only enjoyed fishing.It is not necessary for Wang to accompany him, but he can go fishing by himself, and he has learned the method of digging earthworms to fish.And the fish caught are not only enough for dinner, but also can be given to the people in the shop or cats.I remember that my enthusiasm for fishing at this time was not only out of the desire for games, but also a bit of utilitarian interest.For three or four summers, I was enthusiastic about fishing, which saved my mother a lot of money for vegetables. Later, when I grew up, I went to another country to study, and I no longer had the time to fish.But in the book, I often read sentences praising fishing, such as "fishing alone in the cold river and snow", "fishing for an old man in sheep's fur", and "fishing and woodcutters save the body", only then did I realize that fishing is a very elegant thing.Later, I learned that there is a so-called "land of recreational fishing", which describes a person's hometown.I was greatly incited by it, and complained about it: I thought, "Fishing is indeed elegant, my hometown is indeed my fishing place, and it is indeed my hometown." But thinking about it now, it's unfortunate that this subject matter is also the killing and cruelty of living beings!What Wang Juan took care of me was to teach me to kill rice worms and flies, so as to trap and kill many fish.The so-called "fishing old man in sheep's fur" is actually a trapper of fish wearing sheep's fur; the so-called "fishing place" is actually the place where he murdered fish when he was a child. What about love? "Killing", regardless of what to kill, is always ominous.I believe that people's dizziness is deception.If you see a pig being slaughtered, you will definitely not be able to swallow a chopstick of shredded pork. The May 30th incident of killing people is enough to cause public outrage, but killing silkworms, crabs, and fish can actually help people enjoy themselves. How far is the value of the lives of human beings and silkworms, crabs, and fishes? My golden age was short, but these three things are the only things I miss.Misfortune and killing for pleasure make me repent forever.