In the summer vacation of 1997, I took the train from Beijing to Lincheng.Although I always write the word "Lincheng" in the column of native place, I still have a vague impression of that second-tier city.This time, if my father hadn't repeatedly urged me to go to Lincheng to visit my grandmother, I am afraid that my impression of Lincheng and my grandmother would remain in my nine-year-old memory forever. My grandmother lived on Zhuangyuan Street in Lincheng. It is said that a champion was born in a certain courtyard on the street in the late Qing Dynasty. In the 1930s and 1940s, several aristocratic families in Lincheng also set up their homes here for their children to study.However, when I took a taxi and stopped at No. 7 Zhuangyuan Street, I opened the car door and looked around, and found that Zhuangyuan Street at this moment was just moss remaining in the surrounding concrete forest, and most of the sunlight was blocked. It seemed that it would soon be closed. Bulldozers razed the demolition.

According to my memory of this place when I was nine years old, No. 7 Zhuangyuan Street is a courtyard with two entrances.Walking in from the long and narrow horse path in front of the door, there were originally two horse posts carved with cloud patterns outside the wooden trough door with eroded red paint, but only a bare stone seat remained.In the courtyard inside the trough door, five or six families lived close together. They piled briquettes and bicycles in every corner of the courtyard, and the aisles paved with bluestone slabs were also scattered in various colors to dry. clothing.There are only two mirabilis plants that are the easiest to survive, red and white, growing under the courtyard wall in one courtyard. When you pinch one and remove the stamen, it can make a sound like a small trumpet.

But I heard from my father that the entire courtyard has been returned to my grandmother and renovated, otherwise I would not give up the opportunity to travel and go to live in a messy courtyard for a summer vacation.As for why my grandmother insisted that I come, my father didn't seem to understand, he just vaguely said that my grandmother had something to give me. With doubts that implied excitement, I dragged the trolley case to the closed slot door.The original door knocker has long since disappeared. Instead, a small red button is installed on the edge of the door frame, and it will make a sound when you press it lightly. The strange thing is that the bell sound is not the familiar "ding dong" sound, but a burst of sound. There was a light and messy sound, as if countless hanging icicles collided with each other.

Before I had time to think about it, the door had already opened, and I recognized the person who came was Huang Ma, the nanny who had been taking care of my grandmother for more than ten years.When she saw me, she laughed: "Duan Duan is here, grandma said you will definitely be here today." "Hello, Mama Huang." I politely refused Mama Huang's helping hand, lifted the heavy trolley case over the threshold, and smiled, "How is grandma?" "I'm in good spirits." Huang Ma didn't say much, and led me to the house along the clean bluestone road.I looked around and found that the whole yard was much cleaner and quieter. Not only was there less debris like hills, but the mirabilis that could only hide in the corners occupied the entire front yard, forming a patch of red, white and white.And the backyard is full of flowers of various colors, lined with mahogany carved doors and windows, white stone steps with slight moss marks, if you don't look up, you can see the tall buildings close at hand, which makes people seem to have returned to the most glorious past of this house.

"After the property rights of the house were confirmed, the original families moved out one after another, but the huge yard also became deserted." Huang's mother opened the door of the wing room to let me put my luggage, while nagging, "This time grandma invites you Come on, I've been talking about it for half a year." I responded embarrassingly, not daring to say anything more.I have been delaying my trip to Lincheng. If I hadn't heard that my grandmother's physical condition had deteriorated sharply this time, I'm afraid I would have to stay at school for a few more days.For my grandmother, who was born as a lady in the old days and was reserved and reticent, I remember more awe than intimacy.

Stepping up the three white-streaked stone steps to the door of the main room where my grandmother lived, I gently knocked on the mahogany door leaf engraved with the pattern of magpies climbing plums, but no one answered.So under Mama Huang's signal, I pushed open the door. To my surprise, the room is spacious and bright.There is a yellow pear wood desk under the wide window, and my grandmother is sitting at the desk and writing something. "Grandma, Duan Duan is here." Huang Ma called out and went out. Grandma stopped the pen in her hand and turned her head towards me, so I also called out: "Grandma is good."

There is not much difference from the photo. The grandmother has neatly cut short hair, and her clear face can still distinguish the elegance of her youth. The thin figure sitting on the chair is like an elegant crane. "Duanduan, come here." She smiled and waved at me, explaining, "I have bad legs and feet." Grandmother has severe rheumatism, I know that.So I went over and sat next to her. "You are finally here." Grandma looked at me carefully, which made me a little embarrassed.From the corner of her eyes, she quietly glanced at the thick stack of manuscript paper in front of her, and vaguely saw a few words - "Yanzhou", "South Sea", "Fire Beast"... I don't know what it means.

"I heard from your father that you also like to write something. What subject matter do you write about?" Grandma asked kindly. "Yeah." I nodded, a little embarrassed, "Mostly they are campus novels, and occasionally I write about martial arts." "I don't know if you will be interested in my things." Grandma said, standing up with difficulty while leaning on the armrest of the chair, I quickly reached out to support her. Walking to the bookshelf by the wall, my grandmother took out a book from it and handed it to me: "Let's read it first."

It is said to be a book, but it is actually just a stack of thick manuscript paper, which is carefully sewn into a book with needles and threads, and I only noticed at this moment that the neatly arranged bookshelves on this wall are all of this kind of crude The manuscripts were also compiled in order one by one.On the cover of the book in my hand are several beautiful official scripts - "The Eleventh Chronicle of Yanzhou". Turning over a page at random, it was densely packed with grandma's handsome handwriting. Looking carefully, it read: "...he turned his head, and saw clusters of lights gradually burning in the shadowy mountain forest. .Those bright lights are white and red, shot from the bottom of the forest, and gradually gathered together, like huge clouds floating in the sky. The light scattered from the gaps in the forest, reflecting the trees in the forest like silver castings..."

Turning another page, the following is: "...The three of them walked quietly into the woods and walked towards the place where the light gathered. I saw a small stream winding through the forest in front of us, and people gathered on both sides of the stream. Hundreds of animals the size of guinea pigs were drinking and playing. They had a pair of big round ears and were covered with three or four inches of white hair. The lights of thousands of fire beasts are interlaced and layered to form a sea of ​​light. It seems that a large mass of mercury is pouring in front of them, making people dazzled by the gorgeous scenery for a moment...”

I was fascinated by watching it, but my grandmother asked from the side: "Can I watch it?" "It's pretty good." I nodded sincerely, rubbed the somewhat yellowed paper, thought for a while and said, "It seems that this kind of theme is called 'fantasy'?" "Then I don't know. What I wrote is nothing more than expanding the ancient mythology to form a complete world." Grandma replied. "You wrote these?" I stared at my grandmother's aging face in amazement. She must be in her eighties this year. Who would believe that an octogenarian wrote these strange things at his desk every day? And looking at the age of these papers, I don't know how many years she continued to write. "Yes." Grandma nodded, leaning on crutches again, walked back to the desk and sat down, and said softly, "I have been writing on and off for decades, but I only have so much. It seems that this life is not enough." Holding the book in my hand, I saw my grandmother's figure reflected in the skylight from the window, as quiet as a sculpture, but her tone was so sad.I know that my grandmother has been through hardships all her life, and she has a strong and restrained personality. Only when the sadness in her heart cannot be contained, will it be revealed from the sentence.I suddenly wanted to ask my grandmother why she wanted me to come, but I didn't dare to say it.After a long time, my grandmother began to tell me a story. This story, which almost occupied her entire life, was so long that my entire summer vacation and even my later days were spent in this story.