Chapter 3 third chapter

Memories are old people's longing for the future. The next time, which can be counted as the expression of "puberty" or "estrus", was seven years later.Seven years sounds like a long time, and the Anti-Japanese War was only eight years old, but I was still only thirteen years old at that time, which shows that I committed crimes very early.Thinking about this time reminds me of a dear friend who passed away, a famous author and screenwriter.It was he who kept my memory full, and I still find her beautiful to this day when I write this humble history of mine.The small piece of fair skin on the back of her neck and below the hairline, which is the only small piece, always shines with noble ivory brilliance in front of my eyes. The interest in life makes me reluctant to let go of this world easily.

After the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, our family returned to our hometown Nanjing.My grandfather had a famous big garden in Nanjing, which was built in the 1920s after imitating Suzhou gardens, and I was born in a courtyard in that garden.In the middle of the 1930s when I was born, the chants of the old and young in the ancient capitals of the Six Dynasties were heard from time to time in the buildings and pavilions. Books of beautifully bound old-style poems were printed out one after another. Of course, it is now called "" self-published".It’s also like the self-published books now, piled up at home and can’t be sent out. After the outbreak of the Anti-Japanese War, I moved from Nanjing to Chongqing, and then moved back to Nanjing from Chongqing.My "eldest grandson" and the pile of spittle seemed to have the same weight in my grandfather's eyes. The idiom "I treasure myself with my broom" taught by my private school teacher is a perfect description of my grandfather.

Back in Nanjing, I have already learned a lot of Chinese characters including the word "Dai". I have rummaged through those (Rewards and Songs) that have been with me in the musty room. For the first time, I was surprised by such a nasty rhyme. A sentence may also be called a poem.Poetry both disappoints me and fills me with confidence: I can play with this too!Among the poets, there are people like Du Fu and my private school teacher, but most of them are villains who love kitsch.From then on, I dared to despise any poems and articles I wanted to despise. From the "anti-rightist movement" and "Cultural Revolution" until today, any criticism of me will not make me frightened.Responding to the master's call, "Remuneration Singing" has been popular in the theoretical and ideological circles of Chinese literary and art circles for decades, and it has lasted for a long time.In that musty-smelling room, the pollution I received from the words gave me spiritual immunity, and no matter what the great and holy words claimed to be, they would not drive me crazy.

I was sent to a place called Chiushikou to attend middle school.It is called "Choushikou", but in fact there is no market, but a small hill covered with grass.The school squatted majestically on the top of the mountain, like a big gray tiger, looking down at groups of students coming along the path.What I remember most about this building is that I once used an umbrella as a parachute, jumped from three floors onto the uneven green grass, and broke my leg.I guess that counts as part of my adolescence, too, because my heroic act was just to get the attention of a girl sitting in the front row of me.But when I came back to school after lying at home for more than a month, she didn't seem very happy with my recovery, let alone threw me down for my feat.This makes it impossible for me to play any tricks in front of any women in the future.Women are total realists and don't appreciate silly romance.Yet it was the lustrous skin behind her ear that first brought out the adventurous spirit in me that not only got me through and ruled me until I was old.

This female classmate, who may cripple me for life, always wears cheap black cloth clothes.Black clothes and black pants, but the skin is extremely fair.A big black braid hangs from the back of the head, the length is just a little below the waist, so the swing of the braid is just right.In the 1980s, black was restored again and became an international popular color, so her shadow was everywhere, swaying in front of my eyes from time to time.I have never had skin-to-skin contact with her, so her appearance is still very clear in front of my eyes today.Especially the curved neck behind her ears along the hairline, which is very clear because the braids are tightly bound, as if deliberately showing it.It was a charming triangle, with its straight, sloping edge a faded collar.So I like to wash white all my life!Sure enough, after more than 30 years, a kind of washed cloth became a popular fashion.

Beauty doesn't need a lot, just like the epigram, the shorter it is, the more exciting it is.The shiny black hair alone is not beautiful enough, and neither is the fair skin alone. What is beautiful is the fair skin that is faintly visible and hard to see hidden in the black hair roots.There is only such a small piece, like the tears of a drop of milk.In terms of overall depiction, it is as inviting as a painter's magic pen.It was her who taught me to appreciate women from the back and everything in the world; she made me understand the text (back view) better than ordinary classmates. And since then, it has aroused my interest in the behind-the-scenes activities and background of everything , will never easily believe in the superficial form, and in the current popular words, he likes to "reveal the secret".I often think that my ability to "listen and listen" and be a "two-point theory" is also related to this inspiration during adolescence?

There are actually not too many things in this world, and it is far from being saturated. All the so-called "innumerable" animals and plants have absolute numbers, but the earth is full of secrets. Too many secrets are another part of the universe. A "black hole".For example, my obsession with the triangle formed by the back of her ears, neck and collar was not announced to the public until fifty years later.At that time, about a semester before I broke my leg, it can be said that only the dazzling white triangle was the driving force for me to go to school every day.My parents are very strange. I don’t miss every class every day. I am lying at home with a broken leg and I am always thinking about school. The teacher also said that I also listened attentively in the classroom. But he failed all subjects, and even the music class of physical education was less than 60%.I think this is probably the original reason why I barely become a writer now.

At that time, when I saw her neck, I was so excited that I wanted to touch it, or put that little triangle on my chest.The triangle behind her ears is like the Bermuda Triangle that attracts airplanes and ships to fall down by itself. Not only does it make me jump from the third floor in one fell swoop, but it often makes me lose my mind. When the class bell rings, I sit in my seat , It is not the teacher but her who is waiting.If she asks for leave one day, I will be in a daze. After forty-five minutes, I don’t know what class I just took; if the seat in front is empty, my heart seems to be empty.But at that time, I didn't have the urge to "heat" in the cupboard, and there was no swelling in a certain part of the body, because her skin was so smooth that there was no pore, no blemish, and the texture was as tight as marble. As cold as marble, it rejects people thousands of miles away.

Now that I recall it, it was the first time in my life that I experienced the taste of "admiration", which was already a level higher than "estrus" and reached a poetic state.The fascination with the white triangle area is exactly the same as the ecstasy of Xuanwu Lake in the rain. Both have nothing to do with sensuality, and belong to another category of sensations.The white skin that is faintly visible and hard to see hidden in the black hair roots inspired me to have a new interpretation of Du Fu's "fragrant mist, cloud and wet temples".I am confident that I understand Du Fu better than the less coquettish Mr. Private School.The small, slightly curved climbing area above her round neck is dark and sometimes light, white or black, and it really looks foggy and tangled with cigarette wire in my eyes.Therefore, I think Du Fu's "fragrant mist" is not the "fragrance" in the sense of smell that ordinary people interpret, but refers to the "fog" in the vision; Cool and smooth.He has such a delicate feeling for women's hair on the sideburns, which shows that Du Fu is really a great appreciator of women!

This shows that I am indeed much more mature than when I was in the cupboard, which is in line with the physiological law of "adolescence" growth.That alone proves that I developed normally, and I presumably owe it to my continued health.