Chapter 6 part one rebels

When my grandfather was still an official in the Kuomintang, my uncle had already left home to join the People's Liberation Army.But I guess, the father and son have different doctrines and different political opinions, so they must value each other.So I have never heard how angry my grandfather was at my uncle's rebellion.Therefore, on the eve of liberation, my uncle also ran back to his hometown to persuade my grandfather to go out to avoid the limelight. After the grandfather died, the uncle never returned to his hometown.I remember that my grandma used to talk about him when she was sitting on the bed, picking up the soles of her shoes, and praised him for being smart, handsome, and kind.So did my mother.The mother said that she and her uncle had gotten along best since childhood.

I met my uncle once when I was four or five years old.One day I was playing in the yard, and a young officer came striding out of the yard.He walked up to me, bent down and looked at me carefully: "Hey, who are you?" Now I can say that he looks really radiant like that, but at that time I couldn't find such a description, but I was impressed by his heroic spirit Stunned there.After being dazed for a while, I ran into the house, and his hearty laugh sounded behind me.His mother came out to greet him, and his mother stared blankly at him for a while, and then she was embraced by him. I remember that at that moment, my mother suddenly became like a little girl...then they walked into the room together...then he sent Give my mother a beautiful leather bag, beige and genuine leather, my mother likes it very much, and in the next few decades, my mother will only carry it on the most solemn occasion... And then one Sunday, we will go to Zhongshan Park together , In the shade of the swaying old cypress trees, the uncle and mother walked endlessly, walked, and talked endlessly.I ran after them, sweating profusely, tired and bored.I sat between them at lunch, and I heard them talking about grandma, about their hometown, and talking about some past events.Finally, the mother said: "You don't want to go back to your hometown to have a look?" The mother looked at the uncle with a stern and sad look in her eyes.Uncle didn't answer.My uncle told me jokes and was noncommittal to my mother's question.I said I remember things early.I remember that day when the spring breeze was warm and the catkins were flying; I remembered that lunch was unprecedentedly sumptuous, delicious food that I had never seen before, and I buried myself in it; I remembered that I was always worried that the blank figure would break in and endanger this wonderful time, But fortunately, they didn't talk about "him" that day.

After that day, my uncle disappeared, and I haven't heard from him for decades. Year after year, my mother thought of him more and more: "I don't know where he is now?" It can be heard that my mother no longer blames him so much.My mother said that he was doing secret work, researching weapons, and couldn't help himself.My mother never took me with me when she went back to my hometown occasionally, presumably because she was afraid that I would get close to the danger-this would not make her consider uncle.Because of the strictness towards uncle back then, my mother must have some regrets. "For so many years, why hasn't he written me a letter?" My mother was saddened by this.

The uncle ran away from home in the early years, and it is said that there were some factors of escaping marriage, and his marriage was also arranged by the family. "My grandfather arranged it?" "No, it was your great-grandfather's idea." The uncle is the eldest grandson, and his great-grandfather has to personally arrange his marriage, which is related to whether the family's vast land can have a reliable future.No one should interrupt this matter, not even grandpa—don't look at you as a corrupt official; land!understand?In the eyes of my great-grandfather, that is the real thing.

Grandpa, a typical Chinese landlord.Not all Chinese landlords are like "Huang Shiren".In my shallow memory, my great-grandfather had white beard and hair, was thin, limped, and wore shabby and shabby clothes.Because then he has nothing, right?Nor is it.His mother said: "He has always been like that, even when he had thousands of acres of land. When he went out to go to the market, he would pick up a pile of cow dung on the side of the road and shake it back into his own field." Value one thing: land. Landlords like "Zhou Papi" will definitely make him laugh. If you offend the long-term workers, aren't you afraid that they will ruin your land?Aren't you afraid that your fields won't grow good crops?The great-grandfather has far-sightedness than "Zhou Papi", and never neglects the long-term workers.He didn't dare to be negligent, and he was reluctant to give others good food, so he would eat whatever the long-term workers ate, and he would even reuse the leftovers of the long-term workers, brewing them into his own food with his own stomach. in the fat. Proposals such as "eat, live, work together" are not new inventions.Grandpa watched over his land, hoping to harvest a lot of grain every year.A lot of food is sold for a lot of money, and a lot of money is bought for a lot of land, and a lot of food grows in a lot of land... He doesn't ask why it is so recycled.He dreams of more land bearing his name, but why?As a matter of course, he never thought that there would be a "why" in it.And what about himself?At its best, it was just a scruffy skinny old man sitting in the middle of his land.

This is the typical image of Chinese landlords.My grandpa, grandpa, old grandpa, and even the old grandpa were all landlords. It is said that without exception, they are all like this. They have sorghum seeds in their heads, and they are possessed by the demon of the land.But counting up, to the old old old man, to the old old old man... the old man, there is always a station that used to be poor, jingling poor, and escaped from famine to this place, and how to work hard and thrift, and gradually become rich-this is also the case. A family history that Chinese landlords often have and keep in mind.

However, in my memory, this thin old man was very kind to me, he satisfied all my requests, he tolerated all my unreasonable thoughts, even my jumping and jumping made him worry about him.Every new year, he came to Beijing from his hometown to visit me (my mother said, he mainly wanted to see me), brought local products from the countryside, brought some small ornaments for me to hang around my neck, and brought special gifts for me in the city. The snacks I bought, I broke them for me bit by bit... His arms trembled slightly around me, not daring to hold tight or relax, as if I would turn into a wisp of green smoke and fly away if I didn't pay attention.It must be because his eldest son died young, his eldest grandson went away, and among his juniors, I am the only man who doesn't know how to draw a line with him.And this little man, with his child-specific acumen, has already noticed that he can dictate to this old man and do whatever he wants.I kicked and punched in his arms, and if my mother stopped me, all I had to do was shout more, and my mother had to hide and swallow it.If I stroke the old man's beard happily, or call him "Grandpa" casually, he will smile and get the greatest satisfaction.But I can't satisfy his constant desire to kiss me - he's so thin and scruffy.

My uncle failed to resist the marriage, so he lived in school and would not go home.The summer vacation is here, and I have to go home. It is said that when my uncle returned home, he would sleep on the roof alone with his bedding in his arms.I think grandpa must have sympathized with him, but there is nothing he can do.I think the eldest aunt must have only wept quietly, perhaps a little more awakened than her mother-in-law, and if this is the case, it will be more tormented than her mother-in-law.As for the great grandfather, he must have lost his temper.I couldn't imagine how such a skinny old man could be so majestic, even my grandfather and uncle had no choice but to obey.The uncle must have been unable to bear it, so he made up his mind to run away from home and make a clean break with this feudal family...

It was about the mid-1940s, and the flames of communism were spreading across the country like a prairie fire. The Great Unity of the World is actually the oldest dream of mankind, but at the right time and place, this dream is no longer satisfied with just a dream. From prayer to reality (another way of saying is "from fantasy to science"), wind exhibition The red flag is picturesque, united in thought and united in pace towards the paradise on earth that is promised to be realized. More than forty years later, my uncle came back, and what appeared in front of me was an old man with white hair and hunchback.I remember the first time I saw him he bent down and asked me: "Hey, who are you?"Now it's my turn to ask him: who are you?I really asked in my heart: Are you that radiant young officer?I looked at him slowly, looking for traces of that year.However, the uncle who strode like a star has been lost over time, and a stranger who walks slowly has returned.We informed each other of our identities, and then we ate and drank tea together, looking for the old family relationship in the strangeness.I talked about that spring, about the lunch in Zhongshan Park, he opened his eyes and asked me: "Did you there at that time?" I can’t remember which year.” Finally, inevitably, we talked about our mother, and my uncle’s tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn’t make a sound.He wanted me to show him my mother's photo. This wish must have been in his heart for a long time, but he didn't dare to touch it easily.Holding a photo of his mother, he said to my cousin: "Look at how beautiful my aunt is, am I talking nonsense?"

Where has he been all these years, and how did he get here?If my mother was alive, she must have asked this question.I think it's better not to ask.He also only said one sentence, but this sentence was something I never expected-"I have been bullied all these years outside." Yes, yes, it really feels like going home, but inside There must be a lot of actual content that cannot be guessed, and is built from minute to minute. For more than forty years, if I wanted to, I could ask about it. He lives not too far away from me now.But I prefer to keep my guesses.This may be because describing is not actually the fundamental expectation of writing.

He has long since retired, and now he is at home all day, serving his aunt who suffers from Alzheimer's from morning till night.It was the same aunt back then, the one who shed tears for him for many years.He was only in his early twenties when he left home. He walked for many years, traveled to many places, and must have gone through many emotions. Many hopes and disappointments did not know where to stay. In the end, as it was destined, he returned home. To this aunt.When they came back, both of them were in their twilight years.When she came back, my aunt's sanity had gradually left this world, and she insisted on going farther and farther, never to wake up again.He stood by her side, helped her eat and drink, helped her take a bath and changed clothes, and helped her go for a walk, but there was no spring, autumn, cold, heat, sorrow, joy, or joy in his aunt's dull eyes. The sun rose and set there. , Those eyes see everything is normal, as if they don't want to say anything.The uncle was by her side day and night, never leaving her. Only he could understand her vague words... This could be written as a touching and tearful romance.But it is only possible to create "touching" and "romantic" outside of their true hearts and souls.Otherwise it would not be romantic.Otherwise, there is still no romance, and it is still a reality built every minute.And romance, or there has been, but in the end it is still silent. I have a kind of hope that my uncle had been romantic during those forty years, even if it was a short romantic time.I hope that such a time has not been worn out by time, has not been annihilated by reality, and has not been robbed of its beauty by "impossibility".I don't know who it was that kept him awake at night, made him dream about and ecstasy, brought him closer to the yearning he had when he ran away from home, made that romantic young officer's dream come true, even if only in For a moment... I hope he was like this. I hope that no matter what the reality or reality is, the dream is still in this person's heart. "Impossible" only destroys the reality, and cannot eliminate another kind of human existence.I would like to walk alone on the quiet long embankment of Juma River when my aunt is sleeping, not only praying for reality, but also praying for the future and eternity because the beautiful romance is not dead.