Chapter 25 confession

In 1966, a 19-year-old female actress of a song and dance troupe in City B I was thirteen years old when my father was labeled as a rightist--I wrote him a ruthless letter without a title--He used a magnifying glass to look for me in the stills of the pictorial in the Great Northern Wilderness--In 1961, my father was hungry Die--his last words are like a whip--bow to dad every curtain call--he must have heard my confession Hey, writer, let me ask you a question: Why can't people live again?Who decided this?If people can really live again, they can live without mistakes, live intelligently and truly, and live without leaving any regrets, but why you can only live once, full of regrets, irreparable, and the more you live, the heavier you are, In the end, instead of being buried in the loess after death, it is a heavy heart that presses itself into the soil.How much I want to live again, hey, is this an idealist asking for trouble.no no!If you owe a debt to a living person, you can find a way to pay it back, but what if you owe it to a dead person?Then it is doomed to be irreparable, and I will carry guilt for the rest of my life, like holding a debt with nowhere to repay, carrying a heavy cross on my back, and walking on day by day.Is it not your duty as a writer to soothe the wounds of the heart?How do you think people can get rid of this kind of affliction?Hey, so is the writer.Some people say that because life is a one-off, it is doomed to be tragic, are you right?Since the tragedy is destined and destined, the only way to admit it is to admit it; to admit it is to endure it, and to endure it until the day of death, all thoughts and grievances are settled, right... Did I get confused at the beginning of the sentence? The ax was intended to confuse you, of course not!I don't know why my heart is in chaos again, but I was much calmer as early as that time in Babaoshan.That time at Babaoshan?Yes, it was a memorial service for my poor sex dad.

I was thirteen when my dad was labeled a rightist.Taking classes at dance school.This training course is the first-class in the country, and the goal is to cultivate top dancers.I have a talent for dancing, yes. How much can a thirteen-year-old understand his father?How did I know that during the Anti-Japanese War, he worked in an anti-Japanese drama team led by the party--Guilin New China Drama Club, and actively promoted the anti-Japanese war. In Kunming, I often stand half-starved and half-fed on the stage in order to wake up the people and defend the country... In my memory, I was hugged by my uncles and aunts all day long, and they taught me to sing .I'm like a cuddly kitten.Dad, he is the best person and the one who loves me the most.When I say he is good, I rely on the eyes when everyone looks at my father-trust, love, respect, this is an intuition; when I say he loves me the most, I also rely on the eyes when he looks at me-love, encouragement , trust, and sometimes an exciting passion of love.It's also a gut feeling.Intuition is the only way for children to judge the world, and it is often the most accurate.

Think about it, how would I react if someone called my dad a badass?Of course he would resolutely oppose it, but soon he believed it completely.Why?Because I was too simple, too pure, too naive.I was thirteen, and my teachers thought I was much younger.We were in the courtyard to learn the "Baking" and "Walking Horse Skills" in drama, and our legs were not straight. The teacher was so angry that he waved his whip in the air to scare me.As for me, instead, I secretly put the crabapple that the whip had pulled off into my mouth.Because I am innocent and cute, and I have a good talent for dancing, the training class regards me as a baby and a top talent.They often ask me to participate in some major foreign affairs activities of the country and present flowers to foreign leaders.I remember that Chairman Mao visited Zhongshan Park in 1959, and a boy and I were chosen to present flowers to Chairman Mao.Chairman Mao took the flowers and held hands with me.I once wrote in my diary: "Today I presented flowers to Chairman Mao, and I have been holding his white and fat hand. I am so happy." This is a common saying: the political treatment for me is very high.

But suddenly one day—I was about to send me to present flowers to the visiting Chairman Kim Il Sung. I had already dressed up and tied a rose-red ribbon bow with white dots on the back of my head. The teachers all praised me for being beautiful, and I was very excited. --My homeroom teacher suddenly called me to his office, and said to me with a calm face: "You don't want to go today, something happened to your family." "What's the matter." I asked, it was a bolt from the blue.I'm even less prepared for what's next to him. The head teacher asked me: "Do you know what a rightist is? Counter-revolutionaries, enemies, scoundrels, your father is classified as a rightist."

"My father is the best and the best person. Teacher, did you hear me wrong?" I said, trembling all over, and my voice was trembling. He was quite patient with me, and said word by word: "The teacher loves you the most. You should listen to the teacher. Your father was good before, but he has changed now. He opposed the revolution in the work unit. What he did was I won’t tell you. Why? Because you are a good boy, he is afraid that you will oppose him if you find out. Haven’t you seen counter-revolutionaries in movies? Some of them were revolutionaries at first, and later became traitors. Big villain. Do you understand? Yes, you understand. The teacher doesn't want your father to change, but if he changes, you have to draw a line with him."

With tears in my eyes, I believed it, it was as simple as that, and I broke up with my father from then on.I haven't seen him since he became a rightist until his death. If it is now, I don't believe this set! But that was the 1950s, an era when Chinese people were straight-eyed.Many adults believe that they divorce in order to draw a line with their husbands or wives who are rightists, let alone me, a child who doesn't know anything about human affairs.I tried to reflect on myself again and again, whether I was afraid of being involved and falling out of favor, so I broke up with my father against my conscience. It should be said that there was absolutely no beginning.

At that time I was pure and innocent in this matter.I once had a dream about my dad in enemy uniform, chasing me and shooting me, and that's how I felt about my dad at that time. I wrote a letter to my father, but I didn’t even write my title. I felt ashamed to call him father, and wrote the following sentences sternly and harshly: "Now you are the enemy of the people. You should reform yourself and return to the people. At that time, I will call you Dad." It is said that after Dad received this letter, he was sent to Beidahuang to be sent to a labor camp.But think how badly this letter hurt him!I didn’t know until a long time later that the editor-in-chief of his publishing house was designated as a rightist during the anti-rightist movement. Dad and him were very close, and the work unit asked him to expose the editor-in-chief. I also put on the hat of a rightist, a person who is not tolerated by society because of his integrity, after being wronged and trampled on, I stabbed him in the chest with an iron needle, and pierced his heart. I am the most ruthless, The most unconscionable sinner!

What surprised me was that he didn't hate me at all, as if he wasn't hurt by me at all!When he was in the Great Northern Wilderness, when he heard that I had participated in the performance of the "Mermaid" dance drama, he did everything possible to get a copy of "People's Pictorial".It is said that it was his only consolation in his poor life in the remote frontier.Almost all the people there have seen this still, and some have seen it more than once.This pictorial was kept under his pillow until he starved to death in the Great Northern Wilderness in 1961 during a natural disaster. When his body was lifted from the bed, the pictorial was still under the pillow, and the edges of the paper were frayed. The stills on the website are well preserved.This is what I heard from my mother.My mother also said that my father was suffering and tired in the Great Northern Wilderness. He could only get eight catties of food every month. He got pneumonia, suffered from poverty and illness, and starved to death.My mother personally went to the Great Northern Wilderness to collect his relics.There were only a few rags, a rotten hat, an old enamel cup and washbasin, and this illustrated magazine, and a diary.He didn't dare to write his real feelings in the diary before he was alive, they were all notes, daily journals.But in the middle of the diary, there is such a sentence of unstoppable true feelings: "I found her from "People's Pictorial", she is even cuter, and I cried with excitement!" This is his last words to me.

This last word is like a whip, if I repeat it, it will hit me once. I was fifteen years old when he died.We broke up for two years, one was broken, and the other was deeply in love. I didn't write him another letter, let alone visit him. I often reflect on myself. In the past two years, I have absolutely no contact with him. Is it just the result of naivety and revolutionary education?Is there really no selfishness at all because of fear of pressure, fear of hurting yourself, fear of not being trusted and valued by the organization?I dare not admit that there is, if I admit it, I will not be able to bear the heart-piercing self-blame.But I can tell you that there are...

Ever since he was labeled as a rightist, the sky has come down.All major foreign affairs and political activities are practically no longer involving me.It was originally said that I could break into the regiment at the age of fourteen, and since then they have stopped talking to me.Whenever other partners went to participate in important events and performances, I wandered alone in the courtyard alone, and I deeply tasted the power of political discrimination.Those teachers who were very good to me before suddenly changed their faces, like those in Sichuan opera; they tried their best to force me to expose my father, what could I expose?Those teachers hated me because they couldn't squeeze political oil from me to make them reward me according to their merits, they ignored me, and pushed me out...

But should this abandon Dad? Especially when he needs me the most.The world is in a blizzard, the sky is frozen, only his daughter is his only warm support! If my death can be exchanged for my father's resurrection now, I would rather die immediately, but why did I abandon him because of fear of pressure?I hate the words "draw the line"!These four words are like a knife cutting off our father and daughter, but it is myself who picks up the knife. The more sober the more painful, the more painful the more sober. Especially the death of my father brought me a big change all of a sudden.I turned to face myself instead of facing the outside world. I began to not love myself, doubt myself, deny myself, and even fear myself.I felt that more than half of my conscience had been bitten off by the dog.My spirit is breaking down.The only thing to balance yourself is hard work.Because one of my father's ideals is to hope that I can become an excellent dancer. I will work hard and do a good job to make up for my sins! After the Cultural Revolution came, my whole family was destroyed, and my mother, younger siblings and younger siblings were driven to the grasslands.I was alone, alone, with no one to rely on.As I said earlier, I no longer care about external affairs. During this period, facing the "Cultural Revolution", not only did I not care, it seemed that I didn't care about anything.The Red Guards said my father was a counter-revolutionary, but I said he was a good man. I wish they would beat me to death and beat me up for my father, so that my conscience would be at peace.In particular, the revolutionaries in the regiment were jealous of my good business, criticized me for "boasting as a model", and refused to ask me to join the "model regiment".At that time, there were no other performances except model plays, and I was almost unemployed; but I insisted on practicing qigong. If I collapsed, my father's ideals in this world would be all over.I insist on practicing exercises every day, and I practice my abdominal muscles while lying on the bed at night; I never sit on the tram, and use the shaking of the car to practice the stability of my body... The unprecedented devastation of the entire society by the Cultural Revolution and the widespread persecution of the NPC made me clearer, and I couldn't forgive myself for my past sins.During this period, although I was silent, calm, and strong in society, I became weak when I returned home.I miss my father, and this kind of longing and fear increase day by day. Whenever people who come to visit talk about the rightists, the Great Northern Wilderness, reform through labor, and criticize the struggle, even though they don’t touch my father, I also cry, woo hoo, I can’t stop crying .At the end of crying, I just felt that the person was empty, and there was nothing to fill it. The Guangzhou Trade Fair in 1975 approached our troupe and asked to send actors to dance for foreign guests.Because my folk dance is the best, I had to be asked to go.It also said that it belongs to the "give way policy", of course it must "control the use".I think it's time to fight for my dad.I danced the "Red Silk Dance", and the house was full of cheers.Every time the curtain calls, I face the enthusiastic audience, but I bow deeply to my father who is far away and unreachable, like facing the dark and cold underworld.I said to him silently in my heart: I miss him, love him, and ask him to forgive me. I feel that I finally have a chance and a way to redeem my sins.However, this energy has been suppressed for too long, and it is out of control. Excited, excited, jumping desperately, forgetting about it, the body and spirit can't stand it, and the sudden heartbeat often beats one hundred and forty times a minute. , the person fell down and lay on the bed for several months, and the person also lost his appearance.The doctor said that I can no longer do dancing, how can this work?While recuperating, I secretly did simple exercises, and silently begged my father to bless me, let me stand up, return to the stage, and give me a chance to atone for my sin, which is still like a big slab of stone on me! In 1979, my father's enemy was rehabilitated. He was only forty-five years old when he died, and he was in the prime of his life. In my impression, he was always full of energy, but if he was still alive in 1979, he would have just passed his sixties. I believe that his attitude towards life , The enthusiasm for people is still the same as in the prime of life.In the best years of his life, he slept forever in the ground without moving. It is really miserable to think about it. Some friends of my father in the cultural and publishing industry initiated a memorial service for him, and the mourning hall was set up in Babaoshan Cemetery.The person hosting the memorial service asked me to write a eulogy.I have a lot to say in my heart, and I agreed.Picking up the pen, I felt mixed feelings, grief and anger, passion, revenge, vent, and accusation, but when I read this eulogy in the mourning hall, I was surprisingly calm.I didn’t expect that there would be so many people attending the memorial service. The mourning hall was crowded with people, and many of them were celebrities in the cultural and publishing industry. They listened to me and said word by word: "Dear Papa--" I finally called him, and the voice that had been suppressed in my heart for twenty years finally yelled out in the hall with dignity and pride.However, I was not excited, but read very calmly: "Today, I stand here with neither pain nor joy, I have only one resentment! I hate that we are so weak.Weakness makes us succumb to external pressure.Weakness prevents us from comforting you or loving you when you are in the most pain.Weakness keeps us from watching fate throw you alone to misery. I hate how ignorant we are.Conscience is deceived by ignorance.I still cannot forgive myself why I believed the lies that accused you of being an enemy of the people.Dad, do you still remember the letter I wrote to you at that time?There was no title at the beginning of the letter.I wrote: 'Because you are the enemy of the people, so I can't call you daddy'.Although you must have been in great pain at the time, you still used a magnifying glass to find me with difficulty in the stills of the "Mermaid" dance drama in "People's Pictorial" and wanted to see me.My good father, my dear father, I know that you will not blame a thirteen-year-old ignorant daughter, but as time goes by, I feel more and more sad, and I can't forgive myself for what I have put on my father's heart Pain, my conscience is tormented. "Don't dare to love" itself is a human tragedy, it can change pure love into ignorant hate, this kind of inversion of love and hate is cruel.Dad was tortured to death under such circumstances. Some people don't need a soul, but I think a person like Dad who is upright, sincere and kind all his life should have a soul.Nor should he be forgotten.His lonely soul deserves comfort.Dad, if you know that so many familiar uncles, aunts, and friends from your lifetime can mourn you in Babaoshan in Beijing through their efforts, would you feel relieved?Dad, I love you, I miss you--do you hear that?You must have heard it!Dad, you rest in peace. " During the entire process of reading the eulogy, the surrounding area was extremely quiet, so quiet that I could hear every slight sob and uncontrollable sob.I didn't cry myself, really, I heard my own very clear articulation, sending every word into the wide and large space of the mourning hall.I could even hear myself breathing as I switched sentences.I felt as if I was in heaven, speaking to my father in the light of the gods.I felt his huge, warm and generous presence.And feel that he really forgave me!Everything is back to normal!At this moment, I seemed to be purified by myself, enlightened, sincerely never betrayed, loved with all my heart, saved myself from the boundless sea of ​​suffering, soared upwards, and flew into a bright and spotless sky ... For the first time in my life, I am so relaxed, free and comfortable! Since then, I seem to be doing better. Do you think I'm free from this?That's wrong!I told you at the beginning that it is easy to be in debt to a living person, but what I owe is after all my father who died young.I always wondered how he felt when he was dying?The most beloved daughter "draws a clear line" with him, how can he not feel the pain of separation and the sadness of the world?Every time I think of this, the shadow of regret covers me again.This may be hard to escape forever. Chinese religion does not talk about repentance.Without repentance, people will live more and more ruthlessly, or become more and more tired.For those who have a spiritual life, they cannot live without repentance.My heart becomes my confessional.At such times, I hide in my dark confessional and murmur conversations with myself. Hey, writer, I have this understanding of life: There are ten thousand paths in life, but each person can only walk one.If you make a wrong choice, even if you learn and correct your mistakes later, the past mistakes cannot be made up for. ... Of course, nothing is purely positive or negative.What the cruel life and society taught me is: Never be innocent again, never do anything against your will.I would rather pay a heavy price for my sincerity than a miserable price for my heart. These are a few mottos of my own life that I realized after I walked out of my father's mourning hall in Babaoshan. ***Repentance can free one from the devil. ***