Chapter 9 Thorns: 1-5

Grandpas failed, they did not get a rich, free and happy life; grandpas won, they shared the ups and downs of fate and the waste of time, their lives ended at that moment, but their lives were in our lives shine. Ning Xuan: Last night—to be precise, it should be early this morning, I received a call from you unexpectedly.I am still dreaming, I am dreaming that we are walking together.When I picked up the phone and heard your voice, I thought the dream had become reality. I thought, if my ears were a tape recorder, I would record all your words, record them into hundreds of tapes, and then listen to them over and over again.Your voice is the most beautiful voice in the world, and I never tire of hearing it.

In the past, although I had a phone and a mobile phone, I was tired of and rejected them.Sometimes, simply unplug the phone and turn off the phone.But now I embrace their presence in my life because, far away, your voice is carried through them. I don't want to write anything else anymore, I just want to write to you.Write one after another.I don't want to write to you anymore, I want to take the train to Yangzhou to see you.I miss Yangzhou more than I miss my own hometown.I started to collect books and materials about Yangzhou. To know more about Yangzhou is to know more about you.

It is you who illuminate this city that is completely unfamiliar to me. I picked up the book, your smile was all in front of my eyes, I couldn't read a single word.If you don't come by my side again, what should I do? I said to myself: You are a strong man, you have to write, you have to study, you have to create first-class spiritual wealth, for your Ning Xuan, for those who love you, and even for those who hate you people.I have the confidence to do all of this.My hesitation and confusion are over. I can't live up to your love, I want to be a person worthy of your love.Your love is heavy, like ripe wheat; your love is shining, like a bunch of winter jasmine.Your love is the source of my writing, and your love is the well water of my life.

In a previous letter, I mentioned Xiao Hong to you.I think your writing is somewhat similar to hers.Light and white, it contains a touch of sadness, but it is full of vitality. Compared with Zhang Ailing, who has been popular in recent years, I prefer Xiao Hong who is still lonely.Just as the writer Liu Yeyuan said: "In the history of modern literature, which has been full of disasters and disasters, Lu Xun is the one I respect the most, and Xiao Hong is the one who touches my heart the most.... With Xiao Hong as a slave, I feel that my heart has not yet been controlled. Life, will, and rationality have been refined into stone. And maybe never will be." This girl, who was born in the icy and snowy Northland, drifted to the brightly lit Hong Kong, and was misdiagnosed by quack doctors, cut her throat and tube, and died with hatred.

Her thirty-one-year-old life, like Beethoven's symphony, suddenly stopped when it was surging. Zhang Ailing wrote about the abnormality and distortion of human nature, and the fate of a pale and old parasitic class; while in Xiao Hong's writing, there is a healthy and lively human nature, and the throbbing vitality and vitality of the people at the bottom. creativity. If Zhang Ailing symbolizes the city, Shanghai, the reinforced concrete attic and the masked people living in it; then Xiao Hong symbolizes the countryside, the black land, the Hulan River, and life. The real people in it.

Xiao Hong is not writing with a pen, but with blood and tears.She didn't have a complete education, she didn't understand terminology and nouns, and she just described China on the bullock cart in a straightforward way. It is my rational judgment that human beings are bound to move towards cities; but what I love in my heart is still the countryside, which is my emotional tendency.Like Xiao Hong, even in huge cities like Beijing and Shanghai, our hearts still cannot go out of the countryside. Xiao Hong and Xiao Jun, the grievance couple, have gone from love to not love, who is right and who is wrong, it is really "cutting constantly, reasoning is still chaotic".Love is true, not love is also true.Holding hands is true, breaking up is also true.Just because of the word "true", the wound was extraordinarily deep.

Their life trajectories are a model for future generations to discuss "the only love that is difficult through the ages".Their pain and their joy are rough and clean, like ice flowers in the Northland.Their too miserable fate often deeply affects me when I read their words. Back then, the potbellied Xiao Hong was abandoned in a hotel by her cruel fiancé.The boss forced her to pay for the room and food day and night, and even threatened her by stopping the food supply.How could Xiao Hong, who was pregnant, repay the six hundred yuan debt? Later, the vicious boss planned to sell her to a brothel to pay off the debt.

With the last ray of hope, Xiao Hong sent a distress letter to the supplement of "International Association Daily" at that time.The letter fell into the hands of editor Pei Xinyuan.Pei Xinyuan is a sympathetic cultural person. He finds that behind the tragic words, there is a rare literary genius hidden.So, he immediately sent his assistant "Sanlang"-that is, Xiao Jun-to visit the poor woman who wrote the letter. Xiao Jun, a chivalrous and courageous modern ranger, a wandering poet full of anger.When he came to Dongxingshun Hotel, he saw a haggard and weak pregnant woman in a musty black room.After listening to her tearful confession, he immediately made a major decision that would change his life and Xiao Hong's life as well.

Later, Xiao Jun talked about this moment in his memoirs: "At this time, I seemed to feel that the world was changing, and people were also changing. The most beautiful woman I've ever known! Probably the most beautiful woman in the world! All the initial impressions of her are gone, completely wiped out... before me there is only a crystal clear Beautiful, lovely, shining soul!...I immediately decided to swear an oath to myself: I must save her at all sacrifices and costs—save her! Save this beautiful soul! This is my duty!... " At this moment, the lightning is flint; at this moment, the earth is shaking.

At this moment, the heart and soul blend together; at this moment, love replaces a dark room with a paradise. This is the charm that only Xiao Hong has.In the purity of a pregnant woman, in the soul of a pilgrim, in the name of tragedy, she finds true love. However, Xiao Jun himself is also a penniless homeless man. How can he afford the astronomical figure of 600 yuan to him?He asked friends to borrow them, but almost all of his friends were homeless as poor as he was. When the mountains and rivers were full of doubts and there was no way out, the flood of the Songhua River broke through.The urban area of ​​Harbin has become a swamp country.People scrambled to escape, including the owner of the hotel.In the chaos, Xiao Jun escaped from the cage with Xiao Hong in his arms.

Er Xiao's honeymoon was spent in hunger and cold.It is often Xiao Hong lying on the bed in the hotel, wrapping all the quilts around her body to resist the severe cold; while Xiao Jun goes out, runs around, and works to earn money.When lucky, Xiao Jun was able to bring back steamed buns and pancakes, and the two devoured them hungrily.When they were unlucky, the two had to hug each other and sleep with hungry stomachs. (Ning Xuan, if we also meet this fate one day, I will treat you like Xiao Jun treats Xiao Hong. I will warm you with my body, and I will go outside to find food for you.) Xiao Hong wrote about her life during this period in detail in her prose, which made my eyes sore and I wanted to shed tears: Why do geniuses always fall to the point where they can’t even satisfy their food and clothing?Is this also God's intentional arrangement? Was their subsequent breakup due to differences in personalities between the two parties, or was it the intervention of a third party?People have a lot to say.I found one of the reasons from the gaps in their writing: they are too strong, and they are not willing to back down.They all want to be the strong side, and conflicts are inevitable. In any case, I think that as long as you have had a beautiful love, you will not be in vain to visit the world in your life.Not all love can last forever, just as not all leaves can be evergreen all the year round. However, I want the kind of love that can grow old. When I am gray-haired, I can walk arm in arm with my lover.I can't bear the bad luck of breaking up, I can't face the broken love. "Hold your son's hand and grow old together with your son" should not be a myth in the world.I want to share the joy of life with my lover, and even the peace of death. Ning Xuan, you once quoted Wang Xiaobo's love letter to Li Yinhe in your letter, those words are really well written.Still, I have the confidence to write a better love letter than that.Just wait and see, I'm going to surpass him by a long way.I'm the best. French Enlightenment thinker Voltaire said that letters are the comfort of life; Taiwanese essayist Wang Dingjun said that letters are a gentle art.And I want to say, I want to write a love letter to you, every word is like a diamond shining with the light of love.I want to turn all the beautiful things in the world - flowers, grass, sunshine, doves and streams - into a love letter to you, put it in an envelope, and send it to you.I'm going to build a post office just for the two of us.Day and night, there is a stage horse galloping on the road, delivering the message of love for us. I want to write a lot of love letters to you, and I want to fill your room with love letters.I want to make your eyes dazzled while reading love letters, and you will never be able to finish reading them.I will tell you every detail and ask for your opinion.I want our love letters to be more than those written by Mr. Lu Xun and Xu Guangping.We want to surpass them. I'm going to make you jealous because you have the most beautiful love letters in the world.Our love is the most beautiful love, like a proud peacock spreading its tail. Ning Xuan, when I called you yesterday, I was standing on the balcony and I could see the stars in the sky.I speak to you from under the stars. When I was a child, in a small town on the Chengdu Plain, every autumn night, my grandmother and I would go to the courtyard to watch the stars.I am a child brought up by my grandmother, and I am closest to my grandmother. While shaking the cattail fan, my grandma explained the names and stories of the stars to me.The most tortuous one is of course the story of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. Grandma never tires of telling it, and I never tire of listening to it.I looked at the stars until my neck was sore, until I fell asleep and fell asleep in the arms of my grandma.When I woke up in the middle of the night, I realized that my grandmother had put me on the bed. At that time, grandma was the most knowledgeable and intelligent person in my mind-she actually knew the name of every star. When I grew up, I came to Beijing alone.Grandma was not around, so I tried to distinguish the names of the stars by myself.I am a person with the most no sense of direction. I have been to places several times and still get lost.However, I, who often get lost in the world of mortals, can find the star I like in the vast starry sky. In Beijing, nights with stars are running out.I hope that every night when I talk to you on the phone, there will be stars in the sky. These days, do you still have the opportunity to come to Beijing for a business trip? When will we be able to meet again? Tingsheng November 17, 1999 Tingsheng: I read every letter of yours over and over again.Reading your words and thinking about our last meeting, my smile bursts from the bottom of my heart. Our perceptions of many things are surprisingly similar.Especially for words and art.We are each other's mirrors. "I can't choose the best, the best chooses me." When I picked up my pen, I remembered Tagore's words.It seemed to speak from my heart.Tingsheng, my dearest person, you are the best person, how did you choose me, a simple, cold and ordinary Cinderella? I want to love you, your soul and your body.I will save every word you write to me, they are better than diamonds and gold. You like Xiao Hong's works, and so do I--among contemporary female writers, few can surpass her.If she hadn't died so early, there would definitely be more good works coming out. But, I thought, fortunately she left early, otherwise, she would have suffered so much for the innocent and clean in those despicable political campaigns in the future.Xiao Jun was once overwhelmed by villains' insults and politicians' plots. Although the love between Xiao Hong and Xiao Jun became a tragedy later, they had a period of true love after all.Xiao Hong once wrote in a letter to Xiao Jun: "On the road of life, at last there was a period of time beside my footsteps, and I also stepped in his footsteps." After Xiao Jun experienced nearly half a century of hardships, When the grass around Xiao Hong's grave was already weaving, he re-interpreted the correspondence between them back then.This shows that he still can't forget that deep love. When annotating Xiao Hong's first letter to him after his trip to Japan, Xiao Jun recalled many life scenes at that time.This is the part of Xiao Jun's writing that I can't bear to read the most.I would like to try to tell you.Although it is some sad and painful details, I would like to share with you. At that time, due to poverty, Xiao Jun and Xiao Hong always slept in a small bed, which interfered with each other's full rest, especially Xiao Hong who was prone to insomnia.When I arrived in Shanghai, I borrowed another small bed once.Xiao Hong bravely volunteered to live in that small bed.Xiao Jun's bed was placed in the northeast corner of the room, and Xiao Hong's bed was placed in the southwest corner. They said "good night" to each other before going to bed! Just as Xiao Jun was about to fall asleep in a daze, he suddenly heard a sobbing sound.Xiao Jun woke up with a start, turned on the light in a hurry, and ran to Xiao Hong's bedside. He thought she had some kind of emergency, so he put his hand on her forehead and asked anxiously, "What's the matter? Is there any discomfort?" Xiao Hong didn't answer, but turned her face sideways, and at the same time, two streams of tears rolled down from her wide open eyes onto the pillow.There was no heat in her head, and Xiao Jun pulled her other hand to find the pulse, but she pulled it back. "Go to bed with you! I'm not sick at all!" "Then why are you crying?" Xiao Hong giggled, and then said: "I can't sleep! I'm not used to it! When the light is turned off, I feel that we are too far away!" Tears blurred her eyes again. Xiao Jun understood, so he pecked Xiao Hong's forehead with his knuckles and said, "Pull it down! Don't be a hero, come back to sleep!..." On the surface, Xiao Hong is a strong northeastern girl, but in fact she has a very gentle and fragile side.The reckless Xiao Jun didn't understand this side of her.Xiao Hong said: "The sky of women is low, their wings are thin, and the burden around them is heavy! And how annoying, women have too much self-sacrifice. This is not bravery, but cowardice. The inertia of self-sacrifice developed in a helpless state of sacrifice. I know; but I can't help thinking: What am I? . . . Yes, I want to fly, but at the same time I feel that . . . I will fall." She I am not afraid of the evil that is like a flood outside, but I am afraid of sleeping alone at night.She is not afraid of vicious gossip, but she is afraid of the crack deep in her own soul.She is not afraid of the freezing of the Hulan River, but she is afraid of the coldness in her heart. Have you noticed this little detail before? Their poverty is beyond our imagination, and their wealth is beyond our imagination.Back then, there were so many wealthy and powerful people in Shanghai who spent a lot of money, but where are they today?How many people's names are remembered by future generations?However, the names of Xiao Jun and Xiao Hong have been handed down, and the works of these two northern men and women wandering in the pavilions of Shanghai have been handed down. Shanghai did not fill their hungry stomachs, but they added to the glory of Shanghai. They have nothing but two hearts that are as pure as gold, tightly bound together. They suffer from hunger and cold, but they warm the hearts of countless young people who share the same fate with them.In those depressed years, they only wanted to fight and shout together, not to enjoy the sweet fruit and the mirage-like future. Young, wise, and kind, enough to make them proud.As the Bible says: Better is a poor but wise young man than a foolish king who is old and refuses to take advice. ("Ecclesiastes 4:13") Back then, they were all "poor but wise" young people with extremely vigorous vitality.They can live happily and simply by eating sesame seed cakes and pickles, and write immortal chapters. What about us? I have the confidence to do this.Tingsheng, I believe you can do it too. Listen to the voice that speaks from the bottom of your heart.I know that there are many troubles around you, and the saliva of those delusional people is splashing around you.However, you don't pay attention to them. Once you pay attention to them, you have fallen into their tricks.You have to cherish the time and do your own thing.I hope you will always have a peaceful heart. I remember the story of the ancient Greek philosopher Archimedes.When their city-state was broken by the enemy, the people were fleeing, wailing, and weeping.Swords were flying, corpses were everywhere, and flames shot into the sky.Enemy soldiers began to break in one by one. At this moment, Archimedes was still concentrating on calculating the mysteries of nature, he didn't care about what happened outside the house at all. In an instant, enemy soldiers rushed into Archimedes' house. They saw a frail old man who was concentrating on drawing something on the ground and muttering words.They felt very strange, so they shouted loudly: "Old man, if there is anything valuable in your house, take it out quickly! Or we will kill you!" Archimedes was at the most critical step in his calculation, and without raising his head, he replied contemptuously: "It's not too late for you to kill me after I finish calculating this problem." The savage soldiers were born from their guts, and they raised their knives. Archimedes was hacked to death in a pool of blood, with chalk in his hand, and a thoughtful smile on his mouth. I hope you have the concentration of Archimedes. I will silently watch you from behind. We are bare-handed, but we are not afraid of the sword that shines coldly. Ning Xuan November 22, 1999 Ning Xuan: There is good news for you, the new book "Wings to Fly" has been accepted by the publishing house.Now, the editor has started the final review.If all goes well, it will be officially published soon.You named this book, so this book is our joint creation. From now on, each of my books will be named by you.Each of my books should be branded with your brand, and I want each book to have "half of me and half of you". Ning Xuan, after meeting you and experiencing love, my writing has also changed.Behind the anger and bitterness, there is a powerful "love" to support it.The future words will surpass my previous words; the future words will no longer be the expression of my life alone, but the expression of our two lives.It is the expression of two noble, pure and simple hearts. Although we are ordinary, we never put princes and generals in our eyes. Although we are weak, we will never bow our heads to evil forces. Like Xiao Hong and Xiao Jun, we should use our existence to make those despicable villains feel uneasy and embarrassed, so that they cannot continue to be lawless and despicable. Ning Xuan, I look forward to your coming to Beijing and living with me. Your arrival will make my "dormitory" a real "home". The difference between "dormitory" and "home" is not whether it is a luxurious villa or apartment, but whether there is a beautiful and intelligent hostess. "Dormitory" is cold, "home" is warm; "dormitory" is wandering, "home" is stable; I am looking forward to your arrival, and I am looking forward to your personal completion of the great change from my "dormitory" to "home".The last stroke of drawing a dragon is the "finishing eye". Your arrival will be like a flash of lightning, illuminating this gloomy room of mine. None of us like being alone, and none of us enjoy it as much as the poet Emily Dickinson.We write letters to each other to communicate, to communicate, to exchange our love for more love from each other.Love is immortal only in its flow. Emily's letter is a letter with no addressee.She never sent out the letter, only kept to herself.She kept her diary in a more secretive way, and she hid the diary in a place where even she couldn't find it.She lost the object of love, as well as the courage to love.She lived her whole life alone and died in solitude. Emily Dickinson wrote in a diary entry: "But I have my world to talk to, so I express my love in letters. I never intend to send it, just let the page absorb my pain." OK. I'm so tired of trying to get an unobtainable heart, and then I seem to hear the subtle warning that love doesn't last with wisdom. It's such a difficult choice for me, it's tearing my heart apart ...but the growth over the years has brought peace and healed the wounds of the body." Can paper really absorb pain?Can growth really heal scars?I doubt it. She wrote in another diary: "Physical companionship cannot relieve loneliness, if you cannot understand each other. Although two people become one, such companionship may still fail." However, is there "success" in the world? What about your company?Emily said nothing. I don't quite agree with Emily, nor would I want to replicate her lifestyle.She is desperate for love and understanding between people, because she has never experienced what true love is.I believe that if she had experienced what true love is, she would not say such words categorically.Emily once wrote such a poem: one bee can create a prairie; but I want to revise her conclusion: a green prairie needs two intimate bees. After some accidents, I still maintain an extremely optimistic attitude.Sure enough, my optimism is not blind optimism—you have come to me like a miracle. The Bible says: Do not forget to welcome strangers in love, for some who welcome strangers receive angels without knowing it. ("Hebrews 13:2") At first, I thought you were just a hasty "traveller". You passed by my shabby room, and I warmly entertained you.I didn't neglect because of unfamiliarity.If I did that, I could lose you forever and I wouldn't know it yet.Fortunately I received you graciously.So, you changed from "a stranger" to a "lover", you, an angel sent by God, completed such a transformation in an instant. I would like to ask: How many days of gestation and practice have we experienced in this momentary turning point in our past and present lives? I ate lunch at the "Homeland" restaurant every day.Eat a plate of fried bacon with dried radish, a bowl of rice and a bowl of "Yi Can Xiang".I have a good appetite.I ate it all in ten minutes, and I still have something to say. After eating, I went straight to the library.During my years at Peking University, more than half of my time was spent in the library."Turning around casually" in it, the harvest is much greater than that in the classroom.The library is like a huge maze, and newcomers will get lost in it.I know the characteristics of each reading room, and I know what kind of books are placed on which row of bookshelves.I am as familiar with the library as I am with my own home.After staying in Peking University for nearly seven years, I don't know where the ballroom is. I have never gone in to experience the taste of dancing, but I know the library well. In fact, my biggest dream is to become the director of the National Library who is only responsible for "reading" like Borges.Although the National Library is a Qingshui Yamen, it can satisfy my endless desire to read. Now it has entered late autumn, and the golden leaves of the ginkgo tree have fallen.Their bare branches stretch helplessly high into the sky. This will be my last autumn at Peking University.Think about it, time flies so fast, in a blink of an eye, I have spent seven autumns in Peking University, and watched the whole seven reincarnations of green leaves, yellow leaves, and fallen leaves.And my life has also changed unconsciously. Where did the boy who couldn't find Weiming Lake go? Where did the boy who wrote the composition in the exercise book go? Where did the frowning teenager who couldn't understand the professor's class go? your tinson November 27, 1999 Tingsheng: I also hope that one day I can come to your side. We cook sweet meals in one pot, and we sleep peacefully in one bed.As soon as I reach out, I can hold your hand; as soon as I open my eyes, I can meet your eyes. Don't worry, that day will come soon.Although I don't like Beijing, as long as you are in Beijing, I will regard Beijing as my home.Although Beijing does not have a "high and blue" sky, it has a warm roof that belongs to us temporarily. I haven't told my parents about our acquaintance - because our acquaintance is too "legendary", I don't know how to tell them, and I don't know if they will believe it, they will Thought it was a fairy tale.Therefore, gaining their understanding will not only take time, but also your patience. Although we are not together every day, we can write letters and talk on the phone.Our hearts are already together. Every day, I drove around the streets and met capitalists and officials one after another.Arguing with them, negotiating, and signing contract after contract.Before, it seemed to me that all the running around was meaningless - just bringing business to the company, with no intrinsic relationship to my life. However, it is different now, because thinking about you and our future life in Beijing, I am full of energy.Even these trivial and mediocre details of life in front of me can also arouse my endless interest and curiosity. I also discovered the meaning of earning money.Before, I didn't feel much about money, as long as I had enough for myself to spend.But now I expect to earn more money, I want to save it all, and I want to bring all my savings to Beijing.Although my savings are not much, I hope these savings will become your strong backing. In an earlier letter, you mentioned the poetess Emily Dickinson.I don't admire her, I just pity her - although she wrote countless immortal poems, as a woman, she is too pitiful: she has never met a man who really loves her in her life.In my opinion, all her rhetoric about "loneliness" is actually full of deep sorrow and depression. In the years before Emily died, she hardly ever went out, wearing a flowing white dress all day, floating like a ghost in the huge house her father left her.She didn't even say a word for months, she turned around and turned her eyes to her heart. She is so proud that she thinks that there is no one in the whole town worth talking to—the girlfriend in her childhood has become a mediocre housewife, and they no longer have a common language with each other. I am much happier than her, at least I still have you, you are my bosom friend.I know for certain that my letter is addressed to you and not to myself.I also know that only you can feel the subtle emotional changes in my letter. I often refer to you in my diary.Whenever I write about you, my tone immediately becomes soothing.I assume you are also a reader of my diary, maybe one day in the future, I will make my diary public and share with you. But Emily Dickinson's diary can only be hidden in the dark wall of the greenhouse. Later, the process of this diary coming out is enough to write a novel with bizarre twists and turns.Let me tell you the story. Emily's niece Martha, the last survivor of the family, sold the house to the local vicar.The following year, the house was renovated and plans were made to tear down the non-functional conservatory.While tearing down the mottled wall, one of the workers found a leather-bound book. The worker discovered that it turned out to be Emily's diary.Obviously, this was intentionally hidden by the owner in the wall.At this time, Emily has already become a household name in her hometown and even in the United States.It just so happened that this carpenter was not only obsessed with poetry, but also one of Emily's admirers.In "frenzied trembling," he stashed the book in his lunch box and took it home after work. After carefully reading each page, he told himself that he should give the diary to someone who could make it public.But as he read and read, he became more and more attracted by the poet's spell, and even began to imagine himself as her friend.So, he convinced himself that there was no need to hand over the diary. Having completely overcome the problem of conscience, the poetry-loving carpenter hid the diary in an oak chest of his own making in his bedroom.For the next sixty-four years, he often took it out and read it until he was able to recite the entire diary backwards.His entire family was unaware of the existence of the book. In 1980, Carpenter died at the age of eighty-nine.Before that, he told his grandson this deep-seated secret - because his only son died earlier than him.At the same time, he admitted that his reading pleasure was always mixed with endless feelings of guilt, and he asked his grandson to find a way to make up for his mistakes. However, when the grandson opened the diary, the words in the diary fascinated him deeply.His passion for poetry, inherited from his grandfather, overcame his conscience.His mind was also torn between keeping the diary forever and giving it away.After more than ten years, this precious document was sent to the publishing house through various channels. Combined, the publication of the diary was delayed for seventy-five years. For Emily Dickinson herself, how would she feel if she knew about it? The reason why I tell this story in the letter is because I am afraid of being alone, I am afraid that a fate like Emily's will befall me.I don't want immortal fame, I don't want piles of money, I just want a lover, a complete and pure lover. My words belong to both myself and my lover.If, like Emily, the diaries and letters did not have a bosom friend during her lifetime, it would be a cruel fact to wait until several years later to become the object of study by literary researchers.No matter how many researchers there are, what's the point to her? No pair of eyes were the eyes of the one who loved her. Maybe some people want to live forever, but I don't want to encounter this result--I only need a pair of eyes of the person who loves me, that is, your eyes. Emily wanted to be a good wife, but she didn't find a good husband. I think it's not that she doesn't want to love, it's that she hasn't found a man worthy of love. It's not that she is unwilling to give love, but that she has not found a heart that can accept love. Before me, there seemed to be a glimmer of hope. I am willing to give all my life to you.Are you willing to accept it?Accept all my faults and deficiencies - of course, if I can be with you, I swear to try to be a perfect woman. What you do makes me proud and I will make you proud of me. your Ning Xuan December 1, 1999 Ning Xuan: Emily's diary finally came out to the world.Would she condemn or admire the carpenter and the carpenter's grandson who adored her?The story itself is an excellent novel. However, I agree with you that Emily herself is worthy of pity.Despite her brazen flaunting of her loneliness, I picked up on the overtones—she was so eager to communicate that her loneliness ended up being so exaggerated. On your envelope, there are two little dogs -- the little black dog is whispering to the little gray dog, and you wrote the word "agree" ("dog same") horizontally on it.Your horizontal batch made me laugh loudly before opening the envelope.My smile gushes out from the bottom of my heart like a spring.My joy is all given by you, and my smile in these days exceeds all the smiles I have had in the previous twenty-six years. I am like a star that is about to fade, and you appear, and you are a star that is brightening, and your light illuminates me and keeps me shining.As the Bible says: As the lily is among thorns, my love is among women. ("Bible Song of Solomon 2:2") You are so weak and yet so strong.I think I am happier than Bo Yang and Li Ao, whose lovers abandoned them when they were most difficult.They face the long dark prison alone, and they cannot get the slightest comfort in imprisonment.It is precisely because of the lack of love in the long-term hardship and torment that it affects their character, which in turn affects their subsequent judgments on social issues.Although they both found new lovers after surviving the prison disaster, the trauma of that year has been irreversible. Bo Yang was once imprisoned on "Green Island".Green Island, also known as Huoshao Island, is a place where political prisoners who were sentenced to heavy sentences were detained in Taiwan.The so-called "political prisoners" are actually "prisoners of conscience". In the era of white terror, people's expressions changed when they heard the name "Green Island".它与法国的魔鬼岛、南非的罗本岛齐名，是专制制度的象征。它吞噬了无数的生命，也造就了不少铁骨铮铮的好儿女。火烧岛四周全是惊涛骇浪，一到夏夜，鱼腥扑鼻。而那些有月光的夜晚，一抹朦胧，却也有几分凄婉悲怆的浪漫情调。 据说，两个所谓的"政治犯"--一位是音乐教师，另一位音乐系女学生--隔着铁丝网，痴痴地凝望。后来，男教师为他心爱的女学生写下了曲谱，向她唱出了凄怆的兴趣心情。 这首歌后来被命名为《绿岛小夜曲》，流传在所有犯人之间： 这绿岛像一只船，在月夜里摇呀摇 姑娘哟，你也在我的心海里飘呀飘 让我的歌声随那微风，吹开了你的窗帘 让我的衷情随那流水，不断地向你倾诉 椰子树的长影，掩不住我的情意 明媚的阳光，更照亮了我的心 这绿岛的夜已经这样沉寂 姑娘哟，你为什么还是默默无语 跟柏杨一样，我并不害怕绿岛式的生活--要获得自由，哪有不付出一点代价的。但是，最可怕的还是爱人的背叛，这是从背后插过来的一把刀。 柏杨在回忆录中详细地记载了妻子倪明华的背叛。柏杨入狱之后，接见妻子的时间，由每周一次减为两周一次，再变更为一个月一次乃至两三个月一次。妻子是一个出身优越的小妇人，哪里有耐心承受这样的灾难。 柏杨预料的事情终于发生了。最后一次接见，妻子隔着玻璃窗，毫无表情地在电话的那一端说："我们的离婚手续，应该办一办了。" "我临走时，写好了离婚协议书，亲笔签名，又亲自盖章，放在你那里，拿出来就可以用。" 就这样，十年的婚姻结束了。 那一刻，柏杨浑身像是煮在滚水锅里，踉踉跄跄地回到了牢房中。他垮掉了，开始了长达十天的绝食。 狱方让妻子倪明华来劝说他。然而，妻子还没有开口，那充满厌烦和不耐的表情，就带有一种万箭俱发的杀伤力。柏杨不敢正眼看妻子，在他的面前，已经没有了妻子，而是一个心肠铁铸的女人。 经过四五分钟的无声无息，柏杨先开口说："事情已经如此，我完全依靠你了。" "你不要依靠我，我管不了。" "我知道你很能干，你……" "我不能干。" 柏杨哑口无言，幻想着妻子说几句安慰的话、鼓励的话，即使是假的也好，可是没有。妻子的眼睛里充满了厌恶。他再无法开口，只听见录音带旋转的声音。 所长再一次提醒倪明华有什么话尽管说，她没有任何反应，连旁边监听的警卫们，也在那里叹息。最后，所长无可奈何地说："既然没有话说，那你请回吧。" 声音还没有落地，倪明华忽地站起来，没有跟任何人打一声招呼，经过柏杨的面前时也没有多看一眼。柏杨急忙尾随着她，几乎是同时冲出房门。她却好像躲避瘟疫似的，走得飞快。 这是他们最后一次见面。 不久，妻子的一封简信从门缝里塞进来："离婚手续已经办妥，请问：你的东西，我怎么处理？" 柏杨不知道怎么答复，晚上睡觉的时候，还拿着它，不停地呻吟。后来，终于镇定下来，提笔回信说："我在台湾无亲无友，无依无靠，在此授权给你，把你认为属于我的东西，全部抛弃到大街上，随人拣取，立此为据。" 这封信让柏杨豁然开朗，觉得自己绝食的行为有点好笑，当初有一百个、一千个理由绝食，这时也有一百个、一千个理由觉得荒谬。 "活下去！"现在成了唯一的理由。他开始恢复进食，此时绝食已经二十一天，他的身体濒临崩溃的边缘。 对于柏杨这样的知识分子来说，生死早已经置之于度外。但他们都是重感情的人，尤其是妻子的无情无义，对他们伤害最大。 宁萱，我相信你的勇气。你选择了我，也就选择了我的道路。这是一条不一定"光荣"的"荆棘路"。你将伴随我度过一生一世。我相信，在我困厄、挫折的时候，你不仅不会离开我，而且还会无怨无悔的支持我。 曾经有好长的一段时间，我不再相信爱情。我怀疑人与人之间、男人与女人之间、尤其是我这样的男人与女人之间，能否达成真正的心灵沟通。 在相当长的一段时间里，我都对爱情持绝望的观点，并写下了许多"绝望"的文字--也就是那些最受你垢病的文字。 终于有一天，山穷水复疑无路，柳暗花明又一村。你向我走来，你勇敢地牵着我的手，我们两个人绝尘而去，像杨过和小龙女。这又让我想起电影《毕业生》的结尾。你的勇敢让我仰视--我要用一颗怎样的心，才能承担这份勇敢、这份爱呢？ 你就是我的大地、我的天空和我的海洋，正如狄兰·托马斯所说："从你的眼睛里我看见人类最高的光芒在闪烁。"你不在我的身边，我的心空荡荡的。我二十六年的生命，全是为了等待你的来到。你来了，它便像牵牛花一样为你开放，只为你开放。它带着清晨的露水，在你的窗口探头探脑。 我是一朵卑微而凡俗的牵牛花，我长在一垛古老的红砖墙上。我生命的光辉，正是从这砖石冰冷的缝隙里迸放出来。你读过那首诗人专门为牵牛花写的诗歌吗-- 只为了一个早上的光荣 你且延伸卑微而顽强的生命 无论向上或是向下 攀缠满笆篱的 不就是阵阵呼唤初春的号声？ 我就是诗中的那朵牵牛花，一直在等待着你那眷顾的目光。我身体的开放，就是我无声的呼唤。 你的廷生 一九九九年十二月八日