Chapter 12 Ten Strict Teachers and Friends Teach Others

Ten Strict Teachers and Friends Teach Others Bohao's death Bohao was my classmate in Hangzhou Normal School when I was sixteen.He was admitted to this normal school in the same year as I was.A total of more than 80 preparatory freshmen were admitted this year, divided into two classes, A and B.For some unknown reason, he and I were placed in Class A together.There are four to five hundred students in that school, divided into ten classes.The distribution of the study rooms is not based on shifts, but mixed according to the will of the dormitory supervisor. Therefore, among the 24 students in each room, there are students from all classes from preparatory to fourth grade.This is based on the educational policy of connecting emotions and exchanging knowledge.

When I first entered school, I felt quite distant and unaccompanied.My domain is limited to an assigned seat.All I have is in one drawer.In addition, there are unfamiliar situations and unfamiliar classmates-most of them are old students who have advanced to the mountain gate.They're talking, laughing, or eating bait.Sometimes he would look at some of our new students with strange eyes, and say a few code words to our companions that we didn't understand, which seemed to be sarcastic and mocking.I sat there feeling unnatural.I saw a person sitting diagonally opposite, and he looked like a freshman.I started talking to him. He was a classmate I first met. He was Bohao, his name was Yang Jiajun, and he was from Yuyao.

The upper floor of the study room is the bedroom.Each study room can accommodate 24 people, and each dormitory can only accommodate 18 people, and the distribution of people is in the same order.This result is like the coordination between the heavenly stems of A, B, C, and D and the earthly branches of Zichou and Yinmao, gradually differing, and people in the same study room may not necessarily share the same dormitory.This is the case with Bohao and I, our beds are separated by a one-foot-thick wall.At that time, our relationship with the bed was almost limited to the period of sleep.Because of the rules of the dormitory, the main door is opened at half past nine every night, and the lights are turned off at ten o'clock.As soon as the students enter the dormitory, they must immediately pile up in the sleeping bed. At six or seven o'clock tomorrow, the head of the dormitory will blow the siren to and fro in the corridor, blow all the students out of the sleeping bed, and immediately lock the main door.From then on until 9:30 in the evening, our home only had half a desk (two people share a desk in the study room) and a board chair.So we love the bed of this luscious sanctuary; though there is only a few minutes of light before going to bed, we don't want to rush into the bed at once, but always gather a few friends to sit on the edge of the bed and talk. Laugh once, I would rather go to bed in secret.Unfortunately, Bohao and I were separated by a wall, so we couldn't share the couch and talk. We often went to the corridor outside the door and talked against the window eaves.Sometimes, after the lights were turned off, when the silence around us clearly reflected our conversation, Bohao broke up with me and went to bed in secret, singing "Everyone sleeps, but we wake alone".

Bohao was slightly older than me, but I can't remember clearly.Looking back now, although he was only seventeen or eighteen years old at that time, he already had a profound and calm mind, and outstanding ambitions. He was a young man with a clear mind and a strong personality.At that time, I was really just a young and ignorant primary school student, with no ambition in my chest, no way of my own in front of me, just a loyal servant of tradition and tradition, like a learning machine that runs with others in school.My love for Bohao is not because I can appreciate his size, but because he is the first classmate I met.He didn't abandon me, presumably because of the first acquaintance, and it was definitely not because of his promise to me—at most, he saw that I was a real kid who was willing to work hard, so he was happy to talk to me.

These conversations gradually deepened our friendship.Once I told him about my application for the exam.I said: "I applied for three schools this time, No. 1 Middle School, Type A Commercial, and this Normal School." He asked me, "Why did I take the exam for three?" I said bluntly, "Because I dare Little! I’m afraid I won’t take it. I’m not unlucky when I go home? I graduated with the highest honors in a small school; The first place, the eighth place in the middle school, and the third place here." "Then why did you finally enter here?" "My mother went to discuss with my husband, and the husband said that the teacher is good, so I entered here. "Bo Hao smiled at me.I didn't understand what he meant, but I felt very proud of myself.Then he showed a slightly contemptuous air, and said:

"Why bother! You should have a purpose for yourself! Then you are not here in good faith, and you didn't come here with your ambition to be a teacher." I didn't answer.In fact, at that time, I only knew my mother's order, teacher's training, and school rules; besides, I never dreamed of my own purpose, sincerity, or ambition.His words stimulated me, and made me realize myself suddenly. At first, I realized that my attitude was indeed insincere, secondly, I felt sorry for my cowardice, and finally I felt how shameful it was to boast about my exam grades to him just now!After all, I am already a teenager who should be self-conscious.His words contributed to my self-realization.From that day forward, I have been in awe of him.

He often holds injustices against the dormitory rules specified by the school and obeyed by all students.He once said to me: "We are not human beings, we are a flock of chickens or ducks. We are released in the morning and locked in cages at night." At 9:30 in the evening, many students crowded at the main door of the dormitory, waiting for the head of the dormitory to open the door. At that time, he often said, "Let the prisoner go!" But at that time, we regarded the opening and closing of the dormitory and the switch of the light as the dawn and night of the sky, which were absolutely insurmountable laws; Who dares to be dissatisfied or complain?So what he said, not only as a joke to me, but even if it is announced to all four or five hundred students, it will never have any influence.I myself, in particular, was a good student of absolute obedience.One afternoon I suddenly felt cold, as if I was going to have a malaria.But this was the time when the main door of the dormitory was closed, and I didn't even have the thought of "taking clothes" in my heart, I just fell tired on the seat.Bohao inquired about my situation and asked me: "Why didn't you go to get the clothes?" I replied: "The main door of the dormitory is closed!" He said: "There is no reason for that!

This is not really a prison! "He asked the head of the dormitory to open the door on my behalf, took out my clothes and quilt, and sent me to the nursing room to sleep. On the way, he said to me: "Don't be too timid and just obey. Just make sense in everything. Are we really soldiers or prisoners?" One day in class, the teacher rolled the roll and called "Yang Jiazhi", but no one answered, and it became a rest.The master asked the prefect: "Why didn't Yang Jiazhi come?" The prefect said, "I don't know." The teacher said angrily, "He's going to be absent from class again without reason, so go and call him."All of us, more than forty people, sat in silence. The gentleman kept his anger on his face, tied his hands behind his back, stood on the podium, and waited silently for the criminal to get it.Not long after, the prefect came back empty-handed and said, "He doesn't want to come." Forty pairs of eyes shot at Mr.'s face for a moment, but Mr. let out a word "hum" from his nostrils, and took a pencil to hate on the roll. After turning around, he opened the book and started teaching.The air between us became more and more serious, as if everyone was wondering what magic weapon was contained in the word "huh".

After class, all the troublemakers flocked to our study room to see Yang Bohao.Everyone asked him curiously and sympathetically, "Why aren't you in class?" Bohao flipped through the "Selected Works of Zhaoming" on the table and smiled without answering.Someone sincerely advised him: "Why didn't you say you were sick?" Bohao pressed down on "Selected Works" and replied: "I'm not sick, how can I say lies?" Everyone laughed and walked away.Later, when I was making tea, I saw a group of people surrounding our prefect, listening to what he had to say.As I approached the crowd, I heard the prefect saying: "There is a big donut on the roster..." Then he said: "The superintendent sent someone to call him..." Several listeners stuck out their tongues.Later I heard someone say: "In the future... repeat the grade, maybe expel..." Another voice said: "I still have to pay the tuition..." I don't know what the function of "huh" is, what is the function of the big donut pancake , but seeing the situation of public opinion, Bohao was quite worried.

That night I leaned against the window eaves in the corridor and talked with him again.I worried about him for a whole day, and persuaded him earnestly: "Why don't you go to class? I heard that a big donut was drawn under your name on the register. Maybe you will repeat a grade, be expelled, and pay tuition fees!" He calmly He said: "I really don't want to take Mr.'s class. In fact, they are all afraid of counting the donuts on the roster and academic scores, so they reluctantly go to class. I won't do such a thing. It doesn't matter to him. """You weirdo, the whole school can't find another one!" "That's what I am!" "..."

Yang Jiajun's unexcused absence soon became famous throughout the school. Everyone thought it was a strange event, and all the teachers noticed it.Bohao is often summoned and reprimanded by the supervisor and supervisor.But Bohao was at ease.Every time he was called, he would go there resolutely and come back with a smile on his face.Just go to the library to borrow "Historical Records", "Hanshu", etc., and read them attentively.Only I always worry about him.Soon, the annual leave arrived, and the school did not express any punishment for him. In the second semester, Bohao still came to school, but he seemed very unhappy when he first arrived. We have gradually become familiar with Hangzhou.It was spring, and he and I often went to the mountains and rivers of West Lake to play on Sundays.His travel is very good, and his method is also special.He said: "When we visit the West Lake, we should wander aimlessly and don't need to specify a location. Rest when tired. He also said: "You must go to an unknown place when you swim in the West Lake!"A place where no one can reach. "He led me to the mountaintop next to Baocha Pagoda, in the wilderness behind Leifeng Pagoda. We sat in a deserted place, watching the clouds while chewing bread. When he was about to leave, he took out two copper plates and put them on a big rock, saying that he would come to fetch them next time.After two or three weeks, we revisited the place, and saw that the copper plate had turned green and was placed on the stone in its original state. How we liked to admire it!He said to me: "This is our treasury, and we take the heaven and the earth as our home." Although I was still a ignorant primary school student at that time, and I didn't have any original ideas, but for his strange, novel and outstanding Unconventional manners and words, but also appreciative eyesight, I feel that his every move is very attractive to me, so I unconsciously lean towards him and follow him.But fate has refused to prolong our acquaintance any longer. Our gymnast seems to be a man of military background, and we have more than a hundred heavy muskets in our school.Taking this kind of gun and going to military gymnastics class is what I fear most and what Bohao detests the most.Regarding this military gymnastics, I can still sweat on my back when I think about it now.Especially because my leg structure is abnormal, my buttocks cannot sit on the heels, and when I kneel down and try to sit down, the pain is very painful, but there is still an inch difference. Later, when I went to Tokyo, I also suffered from this leg. I can't follow the Japanese etiquette when I sit at the table, I have to squat. --Although the gymnast was born as a military officer, fortunately he is not very fierce.Seeing that I really couldn't kneel down, he could forgive me, but he said to me: "You must practice often. Kneeling is very important." Later, he invited an assistant teacher. Treat it like a soldier. He speaks in an orderly tone, and is very fierce.Seeing that I was a step higher than others when kneeling, he walked behind me without asking why, put his legs on my back, and pressed down on my shoulders with both hands as hard as possible.I couldn't bear the pain, and I fell to the ground repeatedly.Another time he called "raise the gun", I was thinking about something, forgot to listen to the order, and did not raise the gun.He yelled at me: "Thirteenth! No ears?" Hearing the yell, my first impulse was to take the butt of the old Mauser and knock off the soldier's head; secondly, I wanted to throw away the gun and run away; Finally raised the gun. The title "Thirteenth" is disgusting to me already, and "without ears?" is even more disgusting.But according to the situation at that time, if I seriously hit him on the head or threw a gun away, he would definitely fight me or stop me with force, and no one in the class would definitely come to help me.Because although this is a soldier, he is also our teacher, and he also has the authority to deduct points, demerits, expulsion, and tuition payment for us.In such a peaceful world, who is willing to make trouble for my personal affairs and risk my own risk!I was fully aware of the situation, and finally swallowed my anger and raised my gun. Fortunately, Bohao hadn't had gymnastics class for a long time at this time, so he didn't take offense at the soldier. Not only that, but he didn't even take any other classes that he didn't like.The persuasion of his classmates, the investigation of his teacher, and the admonitions of the school supervisor and dormitory supervisor did not move him in the slightest.He just read his own "Historical Records" and "Hanshu".As a result, there was a widespread rumor in the school that "Yang Jiajun is insane".Most of the people passing by outside the window stopped, put on grimaces, and spied on the behavior of this psychopath.I listened to the public opinion, and I also had doubts in my heart, "Don't Bohao really go crazy?" Soon the summer vacation came.The day before school ended, he went for a run in the mountains with me again.On the way home, he suddenly said to me: "This is our last outing." I asked the origin of this in amazement, only to know that he had decided to leave the school, and tomorrow was our farewell.My mood was very disturbed: I was surprised at the haste of his departure, and it was a pity that our friendship ended, but thinking of his situation in school, I was glad that he could be freed from now on. When school started in the fall of that year, there was no sign of Bohao in the school.There is one less burden for the gentlemen, one less laughing stock for the students, and the school seems to be quieter than before.I lost a private classmate, although I still fearfully and obediently passed the sun and the moon, but a kind of aversion to school, dislike of classmates, and boredom of student life gradually piled up in my chest . For the next fifteen years, Bohao spent most of his life as a primary school teacher.My friendship with him, except that I visited him once or twice in the primary school in Yuyao for the convenience of making a living, ended in very sparse correspondence, and there was nothing in the letter, but a brief account of the recent situation and ordinary greetings. That's all.I know that in the past fifteen years, Bohao was married, had children, worked hard to survive in the primary education field for the burden of the family, and worked in various primary schools in Yuyao.In the middle, I once went to a certain bank in Shanghai to write letters for them, but soon I still belonged to a primary school teacher.The year I got married on February 12th, he made several congratulatory poems and sent them to me.I still remember that the first poem is "Flowers are beautiful, flowers are in full bloom, and the moon is full and half a day. After three days of mandarin ducks, I don't envy gods." In the year of boycotting Japan, he sent Yu Fusang's four-character poem "Chi Mosquito" Me, the first four sentences are "You little bug, you can't control yourself? People can subdue dragons, but you can fight against them!" ..." I also remember when I went to visit him. During the conversation, I was amazed at how firm his will and demeanor was. In addition, he added a layer of composure! All kinds of memories flooded up in my heart, and I said unexpectedly Out: "Thinking of the past year when you and I were classmates,...it's ridiculous! ’ He shook his head and smiled, and then he said with a sigh: ‘It’s not funny now; I’ve always been me. ..." After class, he accompanied me to visit the mountains in Yuyao. On the way, he suddenly said to me: "Shall we wander aimlessly again? "Suddenly a dreamy smile appeared on his face. I also tried my best to bring back my childhood mood, pretending to agree with joy. However, this enthusiastic excitement appeared only for a moment, and after that, there were still only two The injured and tired torso moved unnaturally on the path at the foot of the mountain, like a bird that had been dead for a long time and hadn't completely cooled down, sending out a final tremor. In the late spring of this year, I suddenly received a bright card from Yuchu; "Brother Zikai: Yang Junbohao passed away at 4:30 am on March 12th, 18th.I hereby inform you.Fan Yuchubai. "At the end there is a small note: "At the beginning, his wife gave birth and hired a maid. Unexpectedly, the maid was already suffering from laryngeal fever, which was transmitted and infected, and her children.As a result, a daughter (nine years old) and a son (seven years old) died one after another.While Bohao was sad, he also suffered from this disease, so he couldn't afford it.Fight hard!I know my brother has a good relationship with him, so I will tell you about it.And again. "I read this postcard, and my mind was very disturbed: I was amazed at the haste of his death; it was a pity that our mortal relationship ended; but thinking of the situation in life, I was glad that he could be freed from now on. Later, Shun Wu also wrote to me, telling me about Bohao's death, and initiated a memorial service for him at the Yuyao Education Association, asking for my condolences.Zemin returned to Yuyao from Shanghai to hold Bohao's memorial service.I plan to entrust him to bring a couplet of condolences to hang in Bohao's memorial service, so as to end our friendship.But it is really impossible to organize my disordered thoughts into rhymes or couplets as decorations for Bohao's funeral, and finally let Zemin go empty-handed.If Bohao had a spirit, I don’t think he would blame me for not hanging. Maybe he detested this memorial service, just as he hated the memorial service when he was a student. There is no trace of Bohao in the world anymore.There is one less burden in the natural world, one less laughing stock in the human world, and the world seems to be quieter than before.I lost this sensual friend, and although I was still tremblingly sending out my days of fear and obedience, a kind of aversion to the world, distaste for human beings, and weariness for life gradually piled up in my chest . mean alley The small streets in Hangzhou are called alleys.This name is not in our hometown.When I first arrived in Hangzhou when I was young, I paid a lot of attention to the characters in this alley.When I read in books that Yan Zi "dwells in a back alley, with a sack of food and a ladle of drink", I often wondered what the so-called "buggy alley" was.Thinking about it, it was probably a dilapidated, dirty and narrow alley, which was favored by spiritual energy and made people look ugly.There are many dilapidated, dirty, and narrow alleys in our hometown, but none of them can make me imagine them as back alleys.When I arrived in Hangzhou, I saw the name of the lane, and then I imagined that the place where Yan Zi lived was probably in this kind of lane.Every time I walk through this kind of alley, I often suspect that inside the dilapidated walls, there may be Yanzi living in seclusion in this life.There is an alley in it, which is the representative of the back alleys in my opinion.As long as the word "Back Alley" is mentioned, the scene of this alley will immediately appear in my mind.In fact, I have only been to this back alley three times, but the impressions of these three times are very clear, and I can write them all now. The first time I was in this back alley was nearly twenty years ago.I was only seventeen or eighteen years old at the time, and I was studying in a normal school in Hangzhou.My art teacher, Mr. L, seemed to think that the power of art is too weak to overcome his addiction to spiritual life, so he gave us books and utensils for painting and music, and went to the mountains to break the 17-day diet, and came back to study Buddhism. , ready to become a monk. ① refers to Mr. Li Shutong. One day before he became a monk, he took me to visit Mr. M in this back alley.I followed Mr. L into an old house in this back alley, and saw a short, fat middle-aged man with a beard coming out to meet us.I was introduced, bowed to the gentleman, and sat in a chair to listen to their conversation.In fact, I couldn't understand what they said at all. I only heard some terms such as "Shurangama" and "Yuanjue" in fragments, and an English word "philosophy"② appeared in their conversation.This English was memorized recently, and it was interesting to hear it.But I don't understand the whole meaning of the words.This is partly because Mr. L speaks Tianjin Bai, and Mr. M speaks pure Shaoxing native Bai when he asks the workers to pour tea, and also speaks a dialect of Beiqiang when talking to us. I can't fully understand it.At that time, I thought, if you are willing to treat me as a tea pourer, maybe I can understand it better.But it was hard to tell him that, so I had to sit there pretending to listen quietly, but in fact I was there peeping at the appearance of Mr. M whom I met for the first time.His head is round and big, and his brain is particularly plump. If his body is not so short and fat, it must not be able to bear it.His eyes are not as slender as Mr. L's, but round and bright, with the upper eyelids bent into a firm and powerful arc, cutting the deep black pupils below.His beard and beard hung from the root of his left ear to the root of his right ear, and the color was as dark as the pupils of his eyes.I was keen on charcoal drawing at the time, and I thought his portrait should be depicted with charcoal, but the firm and powerful eyeliner was beyond my charcoal's depiction.While I was observing in this way, a sudden burst of laughter broke out in his conversation.I was amazed that his laughter was loud and cheerful, it didn't match his voice at all, it seemed to be the voices of two people.While smiling, he looked at me with bright black eyes.I was observing his paintings and music, and I didn't know the reason for the ridiculousness at all, but I couldn't remain indifferent because I pretended to listen quietly; I was too embarrassed to ask him "what's so funny about you", so I asked him to repeat it , I had no choice but to pretend to understand again and forced a smile.Of course they wouldn't ask me how far I understood it, but I asked myself, and I was very ashamed.I am ashamed of my playfulness, and hate myself for not being able to understand what they said.Their conversation became longer and longer, and Mr. M laughed louder and louder. At the same time, my shame and hatred accumulated deeper and deeper.From coming in to resigning, I have always been a puppet full of remorse, and was unjustly brought to this old house in a back alley for several hours. ① Refers to Mr. Ma Yifu. ② Philosophy. The second time I came to this back alley was the year before last, sixteen years after I became a puppet.In the past sixteen or seventeen years, I have been living here and there, with more wives and a group of children, and one less mother; Mr. M has been living alone in this back alley for more than ten years. In the old house.The second time I saw him was on Qingming Day the year before last, when I sent two seal stones on Mr. L's behalf.I saw that the alley was still the residence of Yan Zi I imagined, and the old house was still old. Mr. M's voice is the same as it was more than ten years ago, with firm and powerful eyelids, shining black pupils, and loud and cheerful talking and laughing.But listening to the laughter, I was very different from before.For me, the dialect is not a problem, and I fully understand the meaning of what he said. The pain of being a puppet like last time is gone, but I feel a deeper pain: I lost my mother for the first time at that time - from the time I was a child and a father to raise me to an adult, and I have never had any repayment His mother -- hated extremely, filled with grief and doubts about impermanence.I didn't have the ability to relieve this sadness and doubt, so I fell into a state of depression.I just want to go to picDnic with the children on the top of the mountain and by the water, so as to temporarily forget my pain, but I am afraid of listening to the fundamentals of life? It is quite possible to hide in the environment.Because I still read a few pages of books and write a few hours of manuscripts every day to make ends meet. I abstain from meat and alcohol for many years, I don’t go to theaters, and I don’t gamble. Some toys to play with the children.From the perspective of people in the social environment I live in, such people are not only not degenerate, but they are actually leftovers.But Mr. M's serious life clearly sets off my depravity.He talked to me about the "Husheng Painting Collection" that I made and he prefaced, and encouraged me; knowing that I was holding the sorrow of wind and wood, he explained impermanence to me and comforted me.In fact, I don't need to listen to his words, as long as I see his color, I feel so ashamed that I can't bear it.There seemed to be a thread in my heart that "keep cutting, but still messing up", because I couldn't understand it clearly, I wrapped it in paper and hid it. Mr. M's attitude and words made him vigorously hand out my paper bag.I gradually felt awkward in his presence, sat for about an hour and then left. When he escorted me out, I felt the same joy I felt when I was liberated from being a puppet here for a few hours more than ten years ago.I walked out of the back alley and saw a rickshaw parked on the corner of the street, so I stepped on it without asking the price.Looking up at the clear sky, I decided to go to Caizhizhai to buy some candies, and bring them to Liuhe Pagoda to celebrate the Qingming Festival.But when I returned to the hotel with tired limbs in the evening, I thought of the host I visited in the morning, and I felt warmly in awe, my dear.I plan to visit him again tomorrow and open the paper bag in my heart to show him.But in the Ming Dynasty, my heart was completely occupied by the spring scenery of the West Lake. The third time I came to this back alley was just a week ago.This time I took the initiative to visit. Mr. M is still living alone in the old house in the back alley, his eyes are still shining with firm and powerful lines, and his conversation and laughter are still happy.But to my surprise, his dark beard and beard had turned silver-gray, approaching white.The phrase "grey hair can't tolerate a prime minister, and he's full of life like idlers" floated in my heart. At the same time, I regretted not coming to get close to him earlier, and hated my mother for three years. I have been dead for more than three years, and my heart seems to have succumbed to "impermanence", and I am no longer as sad and indignant as before. At the same time, my life has risen from the depression, and I want to resist "impermanence" for a long time.I read in ancient poems, "Shengge returns to the courtyard, lights come down the stairs", "Six Dynasties in the old days, the moon is bright, and the Qinhuai River is full at the Qing night", "The white-headed palace maid is here, sitting idle and talking about Xuanzong", etc., and I will not let them go. translates to painting.I sent two pictures to Mr. M before, and recently I want to collect more words to describe them, and I plan to make a volume of "Impermanence Painting Collection".I told him what I meant and asked him for advice.He kindly pointed me to many Buddhist scriptures and collections of poems and essays on this subject, and recited many good lines for me.In the end, he said, "Impermanence is permanence. Impermanence is easy to draw, but Chang is not easy." I haven't heard such words for a long time, no wonder life is so depressing.His words rescued me from the burning house of impermanence, and made me feel infinitely cool.At that time, I thought that after I drew the "Impermanence Painting Collection", I would draw another "Changhua Collection". "Chang Hua Ji" does not need him to write a preface, because every page is blank from beginning to end.It was evening when I walked out of the back alley that day.The scene of the end of the year and the rain and snow filled the road.I wandered alone on the road, thinking back to the time the year before last when I stepped into the rickshaw without asking the price, and to the time twenty years ago when I was liberated as a puppet for a few hours, I felt like I was in a dream.