Chapter 13 Thirteen

The Tang family finally got their way this time, because the Fang family had a lot of trouble because of Xiulian.I really don't understand why Baoqing refused to sell Xiulian.This man is crazy!Think about it, in order to keep a girl, you are willing to pay out. "What a fool!" The fourth grandma satirized S Wei Tong Pai っ Pan lazy* Baoqing hurriedly arranged to send money to Commander Wang.He is a man who keeps his word, and he is afraid of causing trouble when he is late.The trouble was that he had no cash.He discussed with his family and wanted to sell her two pieces of jewelry, she immediately yelled: "Fart! I don't care! Don't you know, I told your elder brother, Xiulian is Xiulian, I am me .Do not have anything to do with her in the future. Want to take my jewelry for her? Hey! Hey hey!"

Baoqing reluctantly laughed along with him. "But—you,..., well, you really don't understand." "I don't understand!" Second Mistress looked down on others. "Are you enlightened? Everyone is pointing at girls to make money, but you are a fool, and you are paying for such a bitch. Of course, if you are really enlightened, you won't worry about me not being enlightened." "I mean, you don't understand the current situation... There is danger in front of you." "It doesn't matter if I understand it or not. Anyway, I can't give you a dime."

Baoqing asked Xiulian to bring out something.She has some jewelry.She opened the jewelry box and held it out to him with both hands.Seeing her tearful, his heart ached with shame. "It's worth crying for a few pieces of jewelry, my good boy," he said, "I'll buy you better ones when there are better days." Baoqing saved some money, but he refused to touch the money unless it was absolutely necessary.He deposits on schedule, and never leaves the void once. If he can't save for a while, it will be his life.Besides, he has his own ideas.He felt that since they were a family, they had to share the blessings and share the misfortunes.Xiulian has grown up, she should especially learn to deal with business matters.

In the end, the money was obtained and entrusted to a reliable person to deliver it.Since then, the Fang family has been divided into three factions. Second Grandma is in her own class.Xiulian is in the same camp as a wimp, and has nothing to do with the rest of the family.Baoqing and Dafeng take a neutral attitude. Baoqing wanted to calm things down.One day, he went to Xiulian and asked her to give in to her mother, "then the whole family will be harmonious again," he said hopefully. Xiulian nodded in agreement.When her mother sobered up, she walked up to her, knelt down, touched her hand, and smiled at her like an ignorant child. "Mom," she begged, "don't keep treating me like an outsider. I'm a child without father and mother, and you are my mother. You are my own mother. Why don't you love me?"

Second Mistress didn't answer.She sat like a clay bodhisattva, looking straight ahead.Evidently she had made up her mind not to listen.This time, Xiulian begged in a low voice for a long time, but again to no avail.Well, this is the last time.She closed her eyes and lowered her head. A wave of anger rose from the bottom of her heart.She raised her head, and was startled suddenly by that pale face.Second Mistress was crying, and tears fell from the corners of her eyes.She lowered her head, as if she didn't want Xiulian to see her crying. Xiulian stood up and wanted to leave.Second Mistress called her, lowered her head, and said very gently: "It's not that I don't love you, child. Don't think—don't think that I want to kick you out. That's not the case at all, no. But I Poor son, you can't escape your life. As the saying goes, if you are in the Jianghu, you are all hard-fated people. You are destined to escape. Since this is the case, I just hope that you will find a good family and enjoy a good life. Hot, we two old ones, we have been poor all our lives, and we can still make some money. You will never let your father and I lose money, will you. We spent so much money on you. " She raised her eyes , looking fixedly at Xiulian.

The girl stood there, looking down at her, her two small fists clenched tightly against her waist.She suddenly remembered Mrs. Wang's words.Her lips turned pale, and she said, "Maybe I'm destined to suffer, but if I don't despise myself, I don't have to be someone else's concubine." As soon as Second Mistress wiped away her tears, she took another sip from the bottle. After telling her mother what was on her mind, Xiulian felt a little better.Ma wasn't relenting with her, which disappointed her.She needs maternal love. That night, she made up her mind.If words alone can't impress Mom, actions should.She has to be seen by the family, she is already an adult.But how to do it?Suddenly she had an idea.She climbed out of bed, went to the cabinet, and took out her stamp book.With tears in her eyes, she looked at it for a long time, and then threw it into the garbage dump.A serious, career-minded girl can't waste her time playing with stamps.How to start a new life?She couldn't think of anything.She tossed and turned in bed all night, unable to sleep.Several times she tried to go out and retrieve the precious stamp book, but she never did.

An anti-Japanese group sent a letter to Baoqing, asking his team to do something for the war of resistance.Local people in Chongqing are a little confused, blaming the refugees for bringing the war.The people of the whole country should be mobilized to unite in the war of resistance, inspire the fighting spirit of Chongqing people, and let them know that they and the "people from Xiajiang" share the same breath and fate. When Baoqing received the letter, he was very shocked.When Qinzhu asked how much they were willing to pay, he was taken aback.He knew that people would not even pay for the carriage and horse fare.Upon hearing this, Qin Zhu shook her head and made a strange face.Tang Siye and his wife shook their heads: "No."

"I'll pay for Qin Zhu's carriage," Bao Qing had no choice but to say this.The Tang family laughed so hard that it was too funny.The fourth grandma laughed for a long time before she could hold back her words: "You have a lot of money, Baoqing, good buddy, you have money. We poor people have to earn money to eat. Once they do nothing, they have to come back next time. But you...you have Money, you would rather pay out for your daughter than sell her. You are so lucky to have so much money." Baoqing made them laugh.Back at the hotel, he told Xiulian about it. "I do," she said, "I'd love to do something meaningful."

Here comes the problem.What should I sing?Even those guci with patriotic content are too old-fashioned for modern audiences.Bao Qing snorted a paragraph or two, but it was inappropriate, no way.Xiulian felt the same way.She's been singing all about love lately.She tried those who were loyal to the emperor and served the country, and it was very unpleasant.Talk about love, and it can't be used for publicity. Baoqing began to rehearse.He read a drum line first, then played a few times on the piano with one hand, and sang along.Some words were really hard to pronounce, so I even tried to find a word that rhymed with the same rhyme to make up.Every time I find a suitable word, I will be happy: "Hey! I have it!"

The wimp who fell asleep in the corner of the room was woken up by Baoqing.He sat up on the bed, rubbed his eyes, and watched his brother's bald forehead glow under the flickering oil lamp. "Why don't you sleep, brother?" He was quite dissatisfied, "It's hot enough, let's turn on the lamp!" Baoqing said that he was thinking about the book "Anti-Golden Soldiers", and he was going to tell the story of Liang Hongyu beating the drum and fighting the Golden Soldiers, so as to arouse everyone's enthusiasm for resisting Japan.The wimp lay down again. "I thought you were hitting mosquitoes, crackling." Baoqing was still playing the piano, thinking about words in his mind, grinning happily when he had an idea. "What is Xiulian singing?" the wimp asked.

"I haven't figured it out yet," Baoqing replied, "It's not easy." The wimp sat up again.He cleared his throat and said seriously, "The trouble for you two is that you can't read a few words. If she can read and break characters, she can find a drum song about dying for the country, so what trouble is there?" He Get out of bed, "Come on, let me read to you. You know I'm learned." Baoqing was surprised and looked at him. "You don't recognize those two characters more than I do!" The wimp was wronged. "Why not more than you? I know all the words I need. Listen carefully, and I will read." The two brothers hummed the drums.Saying a word to waste, and saying a word to Bao Qing, both brothers are very happy.I quickly practiced a joke.When the window paper turned white, the wimpy advocated sleeping, and Baoqing agreed, but he couldn't sleep.He remembered another worrying thing.If Qin Zhu quit, then Xiao Liu would not come to play the strings. "Brother," he asked, "how would you like to play the string?" "Me?" Responding wimpy, "I—what are you trying to figure out?" "For the sake of patriotism, and to honor ourselves," Baoqing said quickly, "our names will be published in the newspaper in big bold characters. Understand? We will be called 'Mr.'. Miss Xiulian, Mr. Fang Baoqing. You're sure to like it." No one answered, only a snoring sound was heard. The next morning, at eleven o'clock, Baoqing woke up and saw that the sanxian that had been placed in the corner of the room was gone.He jumped out of bed.What, lost it!Without this baby, the game is over.He rubbed his bald forehead with his hands and cried out sadly.Bad luck, really bad luck.Baby sanxian, lost!He looked up and saw that the wimpy bed was empty - and he laughed. He hurried out of the hotel and ran to the river.He knew the wimp liked to sit by the water.He found the wimp right away.He was sitting on a big black stone and was plucking the strings of the zither.That being said, the wimp is happy to play the strings.He laughed with relief and walked back to the hotel for breakfast.The problems were all solved, and with someone playing the strings, Xiao Liu was not the only one. Baoqing and Xiulian join an anti-Japanese group that is preparing to stage a three-act play.During the intermission, the Fang family was asked to perform in front of the curtain.Baoqing was very excited and proud. The bus driver from Chongqing brought newspapers.He watched the repertoire advertisement, and his heart beat with pride.His, his brother's and Xiulian's names are all on it.It is in big bold letters, the honorific titles of Mr. and Ms.Like a schoolboy, he yelled and showed the newspaper to the whole family.Wimpy and Xiulian are very happy.Second Grandma's words were still so bitter. "So what if I call you Mr.?" she said sarcastically, "I still have to pay for the transportation by myself." On rehearsal day, they woke up early and put on their best clothes.Xiulian was wearing a new light green silk cheongsam and leather shoes.The pigtails were tied with white ribbons.After breakfast, she practiced walking without twisting her ass.If you want to act on the same stage with authentic actors, you have to be more solemn.It is not an easy task to walk with your hands drooping and your back straight. The wimp shaved.It was rare for him to shave, but this time he not only shaved, but also shaved very carefully, not a single beard slipped through the net.In the end, he also trimmed the sideburns and the hair on the back of his head.He wore a dark blue coat, which matched his brother's gray coat.To look neat, he tied up his trousers with long, wide black ribbons. At noon they entered the city.Baoqing intends to treat his eldest brother to a good meal, and repay his kindness for his kindness.But after the bombing, Chongqing was so desolate, and the sight of the ashes after the disaster lost their appetite.Some of the burnt houses have been rebuilt.Some are still a dark pile of tatters, and some stand alone with only one wall left. People built small sheds with thatch against this wall to continue their livelihood.The eyes are full of sad war wounds, piles of blackened broken bricks and rubble.Bao Qing felt that there was a huge corpse in front of him, covered with scars.He trembled violently.It's better to eat something first, to add some nutrition to the body and mind.They went to a restaurant, had a good meal, and then went to the theater to meet with them—real actors, mostly young people. As soon as they saw the Fang family brothers, everyone came up to welcome them.All the young men and women call Baoqing "Sir", he is very proud of it.This is very different from singing in church, people are using them immediately. As soon as it opened, the head of the troupe invited Baoqing and his sons to sit on the side of the stage and watch the play.Baoqing had never watched civilized dramas.He thought that since it was a drama, the actors must take turns to walk on stage, and each of them would say something inexplicable.Who knew that was not the case at all.The actors talked as if they were at home or in a teahouse.Bao Qing saw that the actors were well-trained, and the skill of the script was also impressive.It's amazing, it's exciting!He sat upright, almost forgetting to breathe.There are no gorgeous costumes, no deafening sound of gongs and drums, just ordinary people acting ordinary people.He whispered to his eldest brother, "This is the real art." The wimp nodded, "Yes, the real art." Xiulian was simply fascinated.It was nothing like her own performance.She is used to singing books, and never thought of expressing the plot in this way.Although it's acting, it's also life, and she feels that the plot has infected the audience.It would be great if she could do the same.The curtain fell.A decent young man came over and bowed, "Miss Fang, it's your turn." With a smile on his face, he lowered his voice. "Don't be busy. Our props are old and heavy, and we have to wait for a long time to change the scene." The wimp walked up to the stage solemnly, Xiulian followed behind.A table, a chair, and a drum were set up in front of the curtain.The wimp stopped dignifiedly, facing the audience.Seriously, he slowly rolled up his sleeves, scratched his head, and bounced. The audience hummed.The wimp hesitated for a moment, then continued to flick down.He didn't know theater audiences and how they like to breathe a sigh of relief during intermission.The audience has never seen a big drum, and they don't pay attention to what is in front of the scene when changing scenes.Seeing a man and a girl coming up to the stage, they froze for a moment and then glanced twice.The girl was small, with very little make-up on her face.To be honest, under such a strong light, her facial features could not be seen at all.It's just a small round moon on top of the green silk cheongsam. Two or three people in the front row got up and went into the lounge.Someone is calling out to the peanut seller, someone is talking about the plot, or spreading news of the war.Everyone thought the show was pretty good.But what is its significance?Some people started talking loudly. The wimp closed his eyes, suffering from such anger!These people are savages!He stopped playing.Xiulian is still singing.She is Miss Xiulian today.She came to sing, so she had to keep singing.She couldn't stumble in front of such strangers.She continued singing, the hum getting louder.She made a decisive decision, cut out a paragraph or two, put down the clapper, bowed to the impolite audience, and walked off the stage.Walking to the side of the stage, she shed tears. Bao Qing wanted to comfort her, but she cried even harder, her shoulders twitching.A few young actresses came over. "Don't be sad, Miss Xiulian," they said, "you sing very well. These people don't know how to do it." A girl with a sweet face put her arm around Xiulian and wiped away her tears. "We're all actors, little one," she whispered, "we understand." Xiulian became happy again. The wimp stood by the side of the stage, his face flushed with anger. "I'm going home, brother," he said, putting down the shamisen.Baoqing took his arm. "Don't say that," he puffed out his chest. "I haven't sung yet." Several young and beautiful actresses hurried over when they heard what the wimp said.They shook his hand and patted his shoulder. "No, sir, don't go." The wimp sat down.His anger subsided.She blushed because of pride.He was a "sir" now, a real artist. After the second act, the Fang brothers walked onto the stage side by side like soldiers on the battlefield.The audience was still buzzing, but Baoqing stopped and smiled as usual.Nothing happened.He stomped his feet and shook his shiny head.After a short pause, when the crowded theater became quieter, Bao Qing picked up the clapper.Although he still had a smile on his face, he bit his lip. Baoqing held up the clapper high and began to knock loudly.After singing seven or eight lines, he could see that the audience was a little interested.He took a breath and cleared his throat.He had to slip his voice away, so that every corner of the venue could hear clearly, and everyone had to understand what he was singing.Baoqing waited for a while, until the audience was completely silent, and then sang again, with a high-pitched voice and delicate expressions.He speaks words and accents carefully, making the audience carefully ponder every sentence he sings.Liang Hongyu, as a weak woman, is not afraid of strong enemies and dangers, on the Yangtze River, facing the turbulent waves, beating drums to help in the battle.The storyteller performed superbly with a drum and a piano.Only the sound of the wind rustling, the water surging, and the sound of rumbling drums shook the patriotic hearts of the soldiers. In an instant, thousands of horses galloped, and the sound of killing shook the sky. . The last lingering sound of the sanxian also disappeared.The venue was solemn, the atmosphere excited and tense.The audience held their breath and concentrated, like a demon, and finally burst into applause.Bao Qing, just like a real famous actor, grabbed the wimpy hand generously and raised it up.He bowed, and the wimp bowed unnaturally.The audience applauded.Bao Qing solemnly picked up the sanxian and stepped off the stage—this was a tribute to his elder brother, an excellent luthier. Backstage, all the actors surrounded Bao Qing and the wimp.Pat them on the back, shake hands with them.The young intellectuals were full of enthusiasm, and Bao Qing was too excited to speak.Noisy young people surrounded him, and he stood upright with tears streaming down his cheeks. After the show ended, a tall and thin man came over.He looked like a skeleton.Every bone is clearly visible, and the cheeks are sunken.A long, pointed chin hangs over a sunken chest.The head above the temples was also twitched, as if it was tightly strangled by a rope.Baoqing had never seen such a strange appearance.Under the narrow forehead, a pair of big eyes are piercing and charming.The pair of eyes stared at Baoqing with touching passion.All the energies of the strange man seemed to be devoted to kindling the flame in his eyes. "Mr. Fang," he said, "I'll walk with you for a few steps, okay? I have something important to discuss with you." His tone was modest and hesitant, as if he was worried that Baoqing would not agree. "As ordered," Bao Qing replied with a smile, "Thank you for your love." I saw that this man was wearing a ragged suit and no tie.Under the open-necked shirt, a bony chest was exposed. "My name is Meng Liang," said the man, "and I am the author of the play you have just seen." Baoqing bowed respectfully, "Mr. Meng, let me introduce you. This is my elder brother Fang Baosen, and this is my daughter Xiulian. Your play is really amazing." The writer laughed. "My wife is always good for others." He said honestly, "The article is my own good. My writing can't be considered bad, but writing a script is a headache. Most people don't understand how difficult it is to write a script. Repeatedly Rehearsing is not to mention how annoying it is, and it is also a brain-struggling thing to satisfy the audience's appetite. Of course, the script is an effective propaganda tool. But it is during the Anti-Japanese War, and I am extremely poor. There is no money to produce a play. You know that the venue has to be paid for, and the rent is so high. We show the play to the people here to arouse their patriotism, but how do we go deep into the countryside? There are no theater gardens there. There are, The scenery props can’t be moved either.” He shook his thin face. "Well, well, the drama is very limited, but the big drum book you sang is really a good technique, and it's the best way to make publicity. I really admire it. With your voice, a luthier and a good drum lyrics, You can do it. You can set up teahouses by the river, and you can go wherever you like. You are acting a one-man show, but you are singing with the voices of millions of people. You attract the audience, remember? If you don’t move, your heart will be moved.” He pointed his skinny finger at Baoqing, “My friend, the country needs you. Get the most out of your art for the least amount of money.Do you understand me? " Mr. Meng stopped talking all of a sudden.He stood down and looked at Baoqing, with his hands in his suit pockets. Baoqing laughed again and again, feeling extremely happy.Not for myself, but for his big drum book, and also because such a learned person also recognizes its importance. "Do you understand me?" went on the playwright, and walked away again. "You must have new drum lyrics. You must have modern themes suitable for the War of Resistance. Both you and your daughter need new themes." He looked at Xiulian: "Miss Xiulian, you must learn new themes. The audience just now The book you sang was not interesting, and you were so sad that you cried. Don't be sad, sing what the people need, and they will welcome you like your father." "Where can I find new words?" Baoqing asked. Mr. Meng smiled.He pointed his thin fingers at his chest. "Here, here, look in my heart. I'll write to you." "Are you here to write?" Baoqing repeated his words, "Oh, Mr. Meng, it is a great honor. Then it is settled, and you will be our teacher from now on." Mr. Meng waved his hand like To keep them from being overzealous. "Don't be busy, my friend, don't be busy. You must be my teacher first, and then I will be your teacher. You must teach me some old drum words first, so that I can learn this art. I I want to learn the singing and rhythm of Dagushu, and learn to match the singing with lyrics. We have to teach and learn from each other." Baoqing was a little skeptical, what could he teach this playwright?Still he agreed.He pointed at the wimp. "My brother can help you, Mr. Meng, he can do and sing." Mr. Meng was beaming with joy. "That's it. I'm going to Nanquan Hot Spring to write a new script. I'll come whenever I have time. I'll learn how to sing the big drum and write the big drum lyrics. In order to repay you for teaching me the art, I'd like to teach your daughter Read and write. For modern women, culture is always useful." Baoqing looked up at the sky, feeling indescribably happy.Finally got the appreciation!What a triumph of drum art.He never thought that the future would be so bright and the past would be so successful. "Uncle, Dad!" Xiulian yelled, "I'm going to be a female student, and I'm going to work hard to learn from Mr. Meng. I will definitely do what I say."