Chapter 2 1. The petty bourgeois riot

My memory is a miracle.I can clearly remember how my father married my mother back. No matter how unreasonably surprised others expressed, I still remember that when I was crowded in the crowd at the entrance of the alley, I seemed to be riding on the head of a stone lion, and saw a "Western carriage" clad in red and green. The crisp sound of firecrackers and colorful confetti drove into the alley.The father was wearing a dark suit with a fiery red rose on his chest, sitting side by side with his mother in a snow-white wedding dress in a "Western carriage".The other "Western carriage" that followed was pitifully dilapidated, like a deformed and crumpled cradle.Young men and women welcoming and seeing off their relatives sat overcrowded in this big cradle, bouncing up and down, swaying left and right, laughing and screaming like colorful waves splashing around, and ping-pong fell on the uneven loess road.Passers-by on the street twisted their necks towards the carriage and stopped to watch.The spring sunshine hangs gently and brightly on my mother's eyelashes, and my father's glasses are shining in two black circles.When the colorful confetti fluttered like butterflies in the wind, an ominous thought flashed in my memory, thinking that it was the fallen leaves blowing in the wind and slapping my mother's face.From the bridge of my father's nose, I saw an untimely arrogance, and two small pits were deeply sunken at the corners of his tightly pursed mouth, as if a warrior returning from a victorious battle captured a noble bride from the tent of a tribal chief.The carriage galloped away.I even remembered the lofty back of the coachman, it was a red satin waistcoat embroidered with the words "Double Happiness" in golden yellow, and fiery red whip flowers exploded on the whip tip.My mother said that in Kaifeng in the 1920s, the horse-drawn carriage dealers had already started the business of renting out "Western carriages".In the intellectual class of Kaifeng, the ancient capital, the first batch of "avant-garde" brides who rejected the bridal sedan chair and the class of ringers appeared.

I can't remember which courtyard the "Western carriage" drove to.After the colorful confetti drifted away with the wind, the pedestrians dispersed, and I was left alone sitting on the head of the stone lion in a daze.The old man who was selling roasted sweet potatoes, the peddler who yelled "Sugar sticky Shanlihong", the wild dogs fighting for the skin of the roasted sweet potato, and the flies biting Shanlihong didn't notice my existence.A blind fortune-teller came with a cloth bag with a bamboo stick on his shoulder, beating a small gong with one hand, and beating the road with a bamboo pole with the other.As soon as the small gong sounded "Dang", I turned into a wisp of blue smoke, flew away with the pigeon whistle in the sky, and merged into the white clouds in the sky.

My father married my mother from the third-year female dormitory of the Faculty of Letters of H University.My mother was born in a wealthy intellectual family in the ancient state of Qi. She was enthusiastic about civilian education to end the ignorance of the common people, relieve the suffering of the common people, and finally realize the great harmony of the world. Therefore, she served as a compulsory teacher in the civilian night school.His father was the son of a farmer who grew mulberry trees and kneaded mulberry branches from the ancient city of Chu on the banks of the Baihe River. He also had a record of being expelled from the Third Normal School of Xinyang Province for making a student riot against the warlords. In Kaifeng, he was admitted to the Music Department of the Provincial First Normal University, but he fell in love with "Proletarian Literature" obsessively (Note: Proletarian is the first two scales of the word proletarian in English. The idiom of the intelligentsia in the 1930s.) and bid farewell to music, and got a job as a small clerk in the Civilian Education Committee of the Provincial Department of Education. Meng needs a realistic salary to support him, so that he can provide enough heat for inspiration with cheaper sesame seed cakes sandwiched with oily steamed buns and extravagant mutton soup soaked in pot helmets.

Mother and father met in civilian night school, and then walked into a "literary salon" together.Since this salon does not have the living room and coffee provided by the noble lady in Paris, it has to be in the teahouse in Xiangguo Temple where Lu Zhishen pulled out the weeping willows, or in the Longting Park where Zhao Kuangyin sat and asked about the government, or in the "Baofu Pit" where Bao Qingtian killed Chen Shimei. Shore party.Those who attended the party included Su Jinsan, a football star at the time, later a famous poet, and Yao Xueyin, a famous novelist who wrote "Li Zicheng" and was criticized by Mao Zedong thirty years later, and was specially protected by Mao Zedong.And I know that since my father published the short story "Buried Son" in the supplement of "World Journal" edited by Liu Bannong at the age of 20, my mother has become my father's most enthusiastic reader, and she is still eating melon seeds at "salon" parties , Patrons who eat fried orchid beans and spiced peanut kernels.When my father sleepwalked in the palace of literature with sorghum noodles and mustard lumps, my mother would invite him to a restaurant on Gulou Street to eat mutton-boiled mutton, and add four or two noodles to the fat soup with mutton. More than a dozen novels he published in the future provided unsatisfactory nutrition.Father always dreamed of hunger and thirst.He wrote an article "Melon Farmer". An old melon grower wants to sell melons to pay off his debts, but he is reluctant to let his young son who helps him pull the cart and sell melons eat a bite of watermelon.On the way back from selling melons, his son died suddenly of heat stroke due to thirst in the scorching wilderness.After the mother shed tears for the melon seller and soaked two handkerchiefs, they decided to get married.

Grandpa was a radical gentleman who, after becoming a member of the Provincial Assembly, became a well-known lawyer in the provincial capital.He never opposes children's freedom of love, marriage autonomy and "individual liberation", but he will never give up the right to make the final arbitration of his children's marriage choices.He can show condescending sympathy and compassion for the sufferings of the working people, and even unreasonably supported peasant riots in his hometown.But he never thought that he could let his daughter bring back a son-in-law who came from a humble background and "has no demeanor and high education".The mother presented a large stack of novels by the future son-in-law to the father with trepidation. The grandfather only glanced at it, then withdrew his eyes miserly, and said, "It's a small trick!" He hid outside the door waiting for his father-in-law to summon him, and finally ate it The father who shut the door was deeply irritated.He angrily left the iron-gray untouchable gatehouse.Then, my grandfather took out a letter from his newspaper box:  Dear father-in-law:

I am indeed a farmer's son.My life only belongs to a small mulberry field, a low fence, an old tree and an old leaky house.But after all, I have owned a small piece of yellow land, whether it rolls green waves or only harvests thorny thorns, whether it blows golden trumpet flowers all over the ground or burns burning red poppies, no matter the gentleman's To which the eye squints contemptuously or expresses noble pity, it belongs to my life, from which it begins. Yet I am so lucky and rich.I also have a small thatched hut covered with green vines, and the vines are covered with stories of ancestors and ancient legends.A few grasshoppers who have drunk enough dew are singing under the starlight. It is the music of my childhood, accompanied by my pure and innocent dreams.In the dream, there is no smell of rotten scholars and the sound of silver dollars and copper plates being bitten.Under the moonlight, Dewdrop and Morning Glory live in love with each other.They have no need for lawyers, and Qingfeng will not file a lawsuit against Mingyue.

Old man, have you ever seen a strong male wolf?It was it squatting on the wilderness and howling at the moon, which woke me up from the old mother's arms and aroused all the brute force and wildness in my life.From there I went to civilization, and met your daughter, and began our trek, to find our own meadows and little stars. When we have walked a hundred thousand miles, exhausted physically and mentally, with white hair like frost, and the winter of life is accompanied by heavy snow, I will wrap her up in an old sheepskin coat, and take a daughter who belongs to Qi to a land that belongs to Chu. In the small mulberry garden.There is a pure land there, and the annual green mulberry leaves should cover two souls who yearn for freedom.

Old man, we don't expect to get your blessing, but we are happy to say to you: We are already on the road, and we don't expect a smooth journey. a merry little bourgeois (Note: Bourgeoisie is the transliteration of the word bourgeoisie in English. Small bourgeoisie means petty bourgeoisie, and it is also an idiomatic term used by intellectuals in the 1920s and 1930s.) It is said that my grandpa appreciated the letter from this "little bourgeoisie" very much. Grandpa said: "I don't see the obscenity, but there is the wind of Chu people singing wildly!" Grandpa just hated the "strong male wolf", Picky said: "Why is it 'Wolf' and not 'Tiger Roar'? It can be seen that his 'brute force' and 'wildness' are not enough, let's see how he looks for his green grass and little stars?"

Then, my grandpa saw the "marriage notice" of my father and his daughter in the newspaper that day, which was "respectful to all relatives and friends".The same newspaper also published an article co-authored by the couple: "On Three Rebellious Women in Classical Novels", one is Cui Yingying, the other is Lin Daiyu, and the other is Pan Jinlian.I have seen this newspaper collected by my grandfather, the color has turned yellow, and there are cracks in the folded place. There are circles left by the red pen around the first two rebels. On the head of the last rebel, it is written: "fart!"

It is also said that before the "Western carriage" pulled my mother to a new house rented cheaply, she used to march through the streets of the ancient city in a demonstrative way according to the route map drawn up by an "angry" poet.The descendants of the Chitu horse went to "Caoshi Street" to eat forage, and drove out from "Madao Street". After the corner, the wheels screamed piercingly, and changed the route temporarily, went to "Youfang Hutong" to grease the hot axles, and then got out of "Eryaner Hutong" and went to "Huajing Street" to drink Hey tea, went to the "Temple Street of Wealth" to read out the call for "The God of Wealth", and then went to "Wen Temple Street" to announce the sacred proposition of "Personal Literature", and did not forget to go to "Mopan Street" to slow down the horseshoes for a walk , searched for the footprints of the Muse in the potholes trodden by the horse's hooves.

All of this is directed by the "angry" poet sitting in the passenger seat.Along the way, the poet holds a bamboo basket in his arms and throws up colorful confetti, like sending a colorful signal calling for an uprising into the sky of the ancient capital.Then, the "Western carriage" came to my grandfather's door.He signaled the coachman to stop, and the coachman shouted "Wow!" The poet then used a bamboo pole to stir up a deafening fire whip, so that the firecrackers and confetti burst into colorful snowflakes on the grandpa's gatehouse. The smell of Kaoru opened a crack in the door.The head protruding from the crack of the door belonged to an old janitor.Without losing the opportunity, the poet snatched a crooked-necked brass trumpet to attract buyers from a skinny man selling Rendan on the side of the road, and aimed at the gatehouse, blowing the sounds of old cows and donkeys.Since then, the poet has been nicknamed "Big Trumpet".The sound of the loudspeaker, the laughter overflowing from the "Western carriage" and the sharp whistle flashed dazzling light, hitting the animal head and Vasong on the grandpa's gate.The old gatekeeper covered his ears and saw my mother in a wedding dress in surprise. He hurriedly jumped out of the threshold, cupped his hands and said, "Congratulations, Miss Er!" Go and close the door, don't make my father angry!" Father still sat still with his proud nose straight.When the "Western carriage" drove away, the descendants of the red rabbit horse left a large pile of steaming horse manure in front of the grandfather's house, attracting a group of happy big flies.Sitting on the passenger seat, "Big Loudspeaker" looked up to the sky and laughed, "Haha, I have an excellent new poem titled "The Riot of the Little Bourgeois"!" As soon as his father returned to the cheap rented new house, he took off his suit in a hurry, and "Big Horn" had to put on this suit and the same tie immediately, and put on that wilting rose for another purpose.The cheap suits from the thrift store were the gowns that my father and the other three wits in the "salon" alternated between.If a person takes something from someone else, the police dogs will bite at least four people to settle the score.Fortunately, nothing like this happened.Anyone who wants to wear this dress, if not attending a more elegant party, is going to date a trendy girl. After the "little bourgeois riot", my father resolutely resigned from his job in the Department of Education, was admitted to the Institute of Chinese Studies of Yenching University in Peking, and became a graduate student of Chinese literature. He studied under the famous professor Guo Shaoyu. Turned into the "bookworm" that former "Salon" members sneered at.Some people said that his father was competitive and angry, and he became a "scholar" in the future; Some people said that my grandfather was far-sighted and loved his son-in-law eagerly, so he used the "provocative method" to let him embark on a path of research with few right and wrong in troubled times; On the way, my mother also lost the support of the family, and had to leave H University, which was only one year away from completing her studies, to work as a teacher in a primary school for children of a "foreign yarn factory".I had my eldest brother again the following year.A meager salary propped up a broken boat with three "little bourgeois" on it, swaying left and right, going through wind and rain, looking for very distant green grasslands and small stars. Whenever the stubborn father mentioned Professor Guo Shaoyu, he would lower his proud nose and his voice trembled gently and gently.He said that Mr. Shaoyu allowed him to start with the study of poetic history and get a glimpse into the depths of Chinese literature. He also let him see how a broad-minded scholar helped his disciples and solved his worries about food and clothing for him many times without revealing himself, such as , allowed him to study outside the school and recommended him to be a lecturer at Lingnan University, which made it possible for him to let my mother continuously submit to my grandfather more than ten articles he published in the Journal of Yanda University, Journal of Lingnan Society and "Literature Monthly" academic papers.There was an article "Research on Songs and Lyrics of Qing and Shang Dynasties", which also allowed him to get a bonus, which solved the problem of eating for three or four months.To my grandfather's surprise, my father published a collection of his novels, titled "The Comfort of Names", and collected more than ten novels that he had forgotten.Mr. Guo Shaoyu Huiran wrote the preface, and Mr. Gu Jiegang inscribed the title of the book.My mother specially presented "The Comfort of Names" to my grandfather.So some people said that this was a demonstration in which "diamonds" pushed the two scholars ahead like a fox following a tiger.The title of the collection of novels is clearly based on the "title" of "Diao Chong" presented to him by his father-in-law. I feel great "comfort"!However, the father who had been in the study for several years began to learn to panic, and hurriedly argued, how could it be?It was Mr. Shaoyu who saw me go to the library every day to eat biscuits, so he used this method to give me a manuscript fee, and let me eat biscuits for several months. My father did not return to Kaifeng to seek a job after completing his studies at Yan University.It seems that my grandfather won't meet his father-in-law if he doesn't rehabilitate Diao Chong.Whether he was a lecturer at Lingnan University in Guangzhou, or he was teaching at Anyang and Huaiyang high schools in Henan, he only came back for a few days during the holidays, or took his mother away for vacation.Even if he returned to Kaifeng, on the fifth day of the first month of the lunar calendar, he would not go to pay respects to my grandfather's birthday.But he misses the "Salon" in Kaifeng very much. Since the "little bourgeois" in the "Salon" have been in prison, some have been decadent, some have been emaciated in order to support their families, and some have gone to the countryside to rebel and their whereabouts are unknown. , my father's nose always smelled "furu" in Kaifeng. He said it was a smell between Peking stinky tofu and Guangzhou salted hairtail.It was only because my mother was in Kaifeng, and then my brother and sister, and then me, that my father forced himself to come back on holidays to endure the smell of fumigation. After the "July 7th" incident, the flames of war approached Kaifeng, and my father returned to Kaifeng to teach in order to protect his small nest.At that time, his new book "A New History of Chinese Literature", which had a little influence in the academic world, had already been published by Kaiming Bookstore in the first edition, second edition and third edition.Later, the Chinese Department of Southwest Associated University included this book in the must-read list.In a small teahouse without the smell of stinky tofu and salted octopus, my father met an elderly man with a pale face.The elder glanced at him and said, "Are you Mr. Zhang Cong?" The father bowed and said, "What advice does the old man have?" The elder said, "Excuse me, why is your "New Edition of the History of Chinese Literature" so new? "Father poured a cup of tea for the elder, and said: "My book aims to get rid of the models of "list of places of interest" and "guide to famous works". The social environment also has a real understanding. With the spirit of history and a critical eye..." He stretched out three fingers, "It's all about three 'To's." The elder asked: "What are the three 'To's? ?” The father dipped his finger in the tea, wrote three English phrases starting with “To”, and said: “To interpret——to explain, To verify—to prove, To judge—to identify.” The elder said: “You When did the boy learn English?" The father said: "It's just a little bit—a little bit. But please, old man, why do you call me 'your boy'?" The elder said: "You married my Erni Son, why is it not my boy!" The father stood up solemnly, bowed deeply, and called out: "Father!" Weng and son-in-law recognized each other from then on with tears streaming down their cheeks.Grandpa said: "Little Zhang Cong, you have such a big temper!" Father said: "Father, I just follow Mr. Sun Yat-sen's teaching and hope to 'treat my nation with equality'..." My grandpa said: "The article is wrong. What nationality are you? What nationality am I? You open your mouth with three 'To's, and look at your outfit, you look like a fake foreign devil!" My father said: "Yenjing University and Lingnan University are both run by foreigners. Church University, how can I not learn three 'To's! I have to follow the customs when I wear clothes. Dad, I heard that your old man is used to drinking milk, which is foreign milk produced by Dutch cows!" Weng and his son-in-law, who had just met, were about to quarrel again, and suddenly the alarm sounded.My father hurriedly helped my grandfather into the rickshaw, and my grandfather said, "Wait a minute!" Pointing to my father's nose, he said, "Your book Annotated Poems of the Ancestors' Spirit is not satisfactory. , Lu You's "Shower", and Ms. Qiu Jin's "Indignation" are all included. Although it is a bit complicated, "Grandpa pointed to the "alarm" in the sky, "Maybe three 'To's will fall from the sky, Explanation, proof, and appraisement, it’s time to select this collection of poems!” Father said: “Father, I’ll go to see you with Erni.” Grandpa said: “Put it on hold, dodge the bomb first!”