Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

He is a very laid-back person. He doesn't walk around with birds, doesn't go to restaurants, and doesn't lead a majestic dog around the streets.He has this condition, but he doesn't, he is a hero, and he enjoyed the treatment of deputy division before retirement, and after retirement, he lives near the Anning Equipment Factory, and he has a little acquaintance with many people.His favorite places to go are the chess stalls in front of factories, cinemas, and cultural palaces. They are lively there.He wears the military uniform unique to veterans, and wears a pair of military shoes that ordinary people don't like to wear. Except for the straw hat in summer, he wears a military cap at other times.His beard was as neat as a pair of leather shoe brushes. With such a beard and his upper face, he had a domineering air.He is not tall, he is a small man from the north, and he was old more than ten years ago.Although he is old, his waist is still very straight, making it doubtful that his waist is made of steel.He also walked slowly, but rhythmically, as if the old master was reciting an ancient poem with ups and downs.He possessed a bright cane, which seemed more elegant and majestic than the medals he had won in his youth.

Some people said that when he played against others at the chess stand, he just wanted to relive his old achievements, but there were no cigarettes on the chessboard. People like him and his southward cadres are all called 38-type cadres, which means cadres who participated in the revolution after the outbreak of the Anti-Japanese War.He was on the list of the first batch of demobilized cadres who came to Anning with the army that went south and liberated the poor people in Anning. Everyone called him Old Guerrilla. At that time, the world was just settled, and many cadres who had been transferred to the south began to solve their marriage problems.Strange to say, once they arrived in the south, the aesthetic values ​​of the northern children were immediately improved correspondingly.They found that the southern women are plump and juicy, charming and delicate, with silky skin and curved eyes. At first glance, they seem to hear the sound of rumbling guns for the first time, and their souls have long since disappeared on which tree.And the strong breasts and strong crotch of the northern women that once made their eyes smoke, when they think about it now, they are useless.

As a result, some cadres who had already married wives in their hometown couldn't help being tempted and played the role of Chen Shimei.The simple and honest old guerrilla can't understand this kind of bad phenomenon.He asked for leave and brought his wife back from the north to settle down in peace.This earth-shattering move made some people dumbfounded and complained constantly.They blamed him for being too backward in thinking and for not being of the same mind as everyone else.He just smiled lightly, and explained: "If I marry too young, I will die short; if I take someone else's wife away, it will not be sweet if I force it." A guy who is blessed but never enjoys it.Seeing that he is so conservative in thinking, everyone is too lazy to talk to him anymore.A person with good intentions wants to see how handsome and sweet his daughter-in-law is, so he is reluctant to let go.Smile in, smile out. "Hey, it looks like a bun!" With a secretive smile and a contemptuous tone.However, they are harmonious and respect each other as guests.When taking a walk, you have to keep a certain distance from each other. It looks like one is going to do some secret business, and the other is following behind, unlike some revolutionaries who have just finished fighting the reactionaries with bayonets and then entered the family's hand-to-hand combat.Fighting and fighting, let the flesh and blood be re-painted, and the teacups and furniture were smashed to pieces.As for the old Guerrilla couple, everyone has only seen them blushing as newlyweds, but they have never seen them fight.The children who fought and made trouble came out one after another, but the old guerrilla couple who didn't fight and made trouble never saw any movement.

Some people speculated maliciously: "Could it be that the old Guerrilla suffered bullets in that vital area and lost his vitality?" Some people replied maliciously: "Who has ever seen that corn bread can lay eggs." In this way, people can't see the old guerrilla fighting back with actions, which adds more comedy and irony, and the words go deeper.The old guerrilla was an upright person, and he spoke like a stick. As a result, he suffered a big loss when he opposed the rightist movement.After that, the chain reaction of bad luck continued. From the very beginning of the "Cultural Revolution", one Buddha was born, and two Buddhas became nirvana? ? , was only released from the cowshed in the early seventies.During this period, his Wowotou suffered a lot, but he died of illness before he and the old Guerrilla came out of the cowshed.For a while, the old guerrilla couldn't get out of his numbness, even if it was a ferry to misery.It is better for two miserable people to eat a sour orange than for a dull person to eat a sweet pomelo alone.

A miracle happened. The old guerrilla is no longer alone. One morning in the winter of 1973, the old Guerrilla went out for a walk as usual.On the way for a walk, he saw many people gathered on the side of the road ahead, staring at something.See puppies?See kittens?Watch people play cards?Juggling?The old guerrilla suddenly heard a rustling sound of falling to the ground. Later, he realized that it was the father's love from the source of life, falling like salt grains.A curiosity led the old guerrilla forward to the side of the crowd.Everyone was watching and discussing at the same time.

Seeing that it was an old guerrilla, the people in the crowd quickly and respectfully spread out a way, ah, it was a baby sleeping peacefully and soundly in a thick swaddle.He has a small fair face, slightly curved eyebrows, small lips like vermilion dots, and a thin line formed by two eyelids, which runs across the disappearance of the bridge of the nose.When these two eyelids are opened, there are two clear heavens.For such a small child, carefree, not bringing a sigh into his breath.Seeing this baby, the old Guerrilla felt a little nervous.Yes, this is not a coincidence, but a deliberate arrangement by the god of luck.

This child is not careless, he is lying here, waiting, waiting for his own arrival, the old Guerrilla thought. The old guerrilla even believed that this was a gem that was conceived in the soul of his woman and could be embedded in the center of his life. I thought the day of life was coming to an end, but I didn't know that the day was just beginning.His fingers trembled as if they were caught by a bamboo stick. His hands were bloody hands that had used a big knife, and his fingers were the fingers that had pulled the trigger.how?This time the performance is so pale?This innocent and lovely baby, the elf-like baby, is trying to test whether his hands can still hold him calmly?

"Old Guerrilla, take the child away." "Yes, take it away, it looks so pitiful." "Accumulate virtue. Saving someone's life is better than building a seven-level pagoda. If you save him, Lord Yama will add years to your birthday book." "Let the child be your companion, and you will have someone to take care of you when you get old." The onlookers encouraged the old guerrillas in a hurry.In fact, without their prodding, his heart moved.The old Guerrilla grinned and smiled, as if thousands of banners were fluttering in his heart, he shook his head happily, and all the onlookers noticed this.

"No? Why are you shaking your head, old Guerrilla? Why not?" "You old guerrilla is an old revolutionary, and you're afraid you won't be able to support yourself." "If I didn't have seven children, I would definitely take this little one home. To be honest, it's better than raising a bunny. It won't be long before it will be alive and kicking." "Fuck, raising a child is raising a small animal?" "Well, don't you forget that a little animal is better treated by someone than a child." "The child's parents are really wicked, worse than animals. In the cold weather, if you leave the child here, you are not afraid of freezing the child to catch a cold."

"Why are parents willing to throw away their own flesh and blood? There must be a last resort." "Go, maybe it's a wild bastard." "Wild bastards are human too" The old Guerrilla did not participate in their conversation, but looked at the sleeping child affectionately and intently like appreciating a priceless gift, or a baby pimple bestowed by God.He couldn't help hesitating before picking up the child, as if afraid of touching a drop of crystal dew on a fallen grass.People's misunderstandings and discussions gave him a new kind of excitement, and the parenting problem gave him helpless and vague constraints.When he was thinking about raising issues, he thought about his dead wife, how troublesome it would be if she was still alive... The child was playing around his knees, and his wife was sewing beside him, and when he looked at her, she also smiled A smile... After being separated from his homeland for many years, he seems to have the ability to distinguish the chewing of cows and horses again.

On the open road, the sound of cars rumbles, and I am sweating like rain in the ripe golden corn beside the road, and I feel hot, dull, joyful and carefree...all these are real and illusory, if there is nothing The images are all from the cute little guy in front of him, who finally picked up the child.He smelled the breath of the child Ningxin and loose sleep, the breath of this sleep is like a piece of silk, complete and smooth.The awakening of a large area came like the prelude to spring.He found that his palms were sweating, as if honey and vinegar had mixed together into the huge bottle formed by his body. The old guerrilla never let go of this hug, and when he stopped hugging, he used his heart and eyes.He watched the little boy toddle, and the first word he taught him was to call "Mommy" to the portrait of his late wife. The child was weak, so he let him take a cold bath and taught him martial arts.However, the child's interest is not here. The child is naturally sensitive, likes to be unconstrained and independent.When he was five years old, he wrote a poem: "The dry food for the ants in the mighty spring outing is rice grains. They look for water to drink, and I am so suffocated that I can't pee." When he was seven years old, he wrote another poem: "The sky is a magnet, and the stars listen to it. I want to play games with the stars, but I am afraid that my father will be waiting at home. The sky is a magnet. The stars listen to it. I want to fly to the sky, but I am afraid that the sky will suck my legs." Son, for writing well, I will reward you with a slap." Before he finished speaking, the slap landed on his son's buttocks. "Naughty things, what are you writing about?" This time, a torreya is awarded on the head. Children's poems have appeared in newspapers and periodicals such as "Little Star", "Poetry Sea Seeking Pearl", "Youth Daily", "Children's Poems and Paintings".The old guerrilla bound the children's poems into a book, and whenever a guest came, he would show the poems to the guests, like showing a pearl that was taken from the neck of the dragon king under the sea.After the guests read it, they all found it interesting, understandable, and easy to read, so they called him a little poet.However, in a few years, the little poet followed the poetry of the Misty School, which was rising at that time, and left without hesitation.The poems I wrote also became incomprehensible correspondingly, and gradually became strange.The comrades-in-arms who saw the old guerrilla were dumbfounded, and they were taken aback for a while, and they really couldn't compliment the little poet's poems.Out of friendship, I kindly persuaded the old Guerrilla: "Don't let the fence lean around." "If you don't follow the rules, you can't make a square." "A camel ran out of the flock, what's the matter?" "We have to instill in him the revolutionary realism and revolutionary romanticism advocated by Chairman Mao." After that, what is even more unbelievable is that he imitated Qu Yuan, a poet of Chu State in the Warring States Period, and grew his long hair.With long hair and shawls, she walks like riding the wind, fluttering like a supernatural being. How can it be so unkempt and unrestrained?The old guerrilla panicked at his son's modern posture with a retro appearance, and his psychological resistance was self-evident.I can't frown at him, blow my beard, stare at him, and be too expressive for fear of hurting his son's self-esteem.The old guerrilla can keep what he wants to say under his tongue, and others will not be so merciless.The comments from the outside world are like toy arrows, which are neither painful nor itchy when shot at people, and they are neither painful nor itchy, making people hide or block them.The old Guerrilla's distress could not be told to outsiders, let alone to his son, which made his distress even deeper. For the sake of poetry, the little poet simply locked himself in the room and chanted bitterly.It takes a whole block of time to chant bitterly, and the little poet later developed into playing truant.He has increasingly deviated from the standard good student in the eyes of tradition.His ever-growing short mustache couldn't wake him up immediately, he didn't realize the hidden crisis in time.In people's eyes, he is trying to get into the wrong corner of the ivory tower, and he has made mistakes and has no sense of responsibility at all.The friends he has made are simply cronies. He deserves what he deserves for neglecting his homework, and God knows why he was squeezed off the single-plank bridge of the college entrance examination.The title of little poet has been replaced by the title of poet, and the title of poet has quickly become synonymous with not doing business properly. The "poet" became the laughing stock of An Ning, but he was unexpectedly obsessed with traveling without realizing it.Run to Yunnan, to Hainan, to Mount Putuo, to the no-man's-land in Tibet.Sometimes I made a special trip to go among ethnic minorities.When I came back, I would criticize the Han people. The Han people have no personality, and the stereotyped faces are annoying.Once when he came back from Shennongjia, Hubei, the old guerrilla thought that the man lying on the sofa was a savage who broke into his house.Fortunately, he only likes to travel, and has no interest in drinking or taking drugs.There is no harm in traveling except being lost.But the poet can come back with all his tail and tail every time, which is enough for the old Guerrilla to be happy for a long time.Besides, he didn't ask himself for money, so he was still a good boy.When I was young, didn't I also fight in the South and North, and the South and North Wars didn't mean traveling around with guns on my shoulders!Don't worry, his prediction was right. The poet later passed the exam and recruited workers to work in a bank savings office.On the steady stream of banknotes, he is practicing the ability to count money.His counting speed is getting faster and faster, and his work efficiency is also increasing day by day. He was originally a polite boy, but he cut his shawl hair with a single knife, and he did not do anything shocking, so he won the praise of colleagues and customers, which is also reasonable. middle. Old Guerrilla was even more genuinely happy. He let out a long sigh of relief, as if watching a rebellious wild horse become tame after being trained, and come back on the right track.Writing poetry is noble, but it doesn’t fill your stomach after all. Counting money in the bank is indeed vulgar, but it’s easy to get into a well-off life with a job in the bank.The old Guerrilla didn't think about the issue of well-off, he set his sights further, his son can stand on his own, and his life will be safe and happy, and he will surely smile.The son has a stable job and a stable income, which can guarantee his peace and happiness throughout his life.But when the Japanese sit in the orange-red sunset and have grandchildren, it can be said that a lifetime is enough.The old guerrilla looked forward to this day. When the poet went to work in the bank savings office on time, the old guerrilla went to the chess stand to meet his chess friends on time.However, after the so-called turmoil that hit the county party committee and county government in 1994, the situation changed. The old guerrilla heard the news that three laid-off workers were detained for no reason at the chess booth in front of the equipment factory, because the chess booth is often Anning's news release center. Upon hearing the bad news, the old guerrilla was filled with righteous indignation and fury. "Go! Go to the county government!" His cane struck towards the plane tree like a thunderbolt, and his hands were numb from the shock. Seeing the situation, the chess players immediately looked at each other in blank dismay and fell silent. "Old Guerrilla, please spare us. We have seniors at the top and young at the bottom, we are no match for you." The poor workers also advised the old Guerrilla not to go. "I'm afraid of death! I'll go alone." The old Guerrilla stiffened his neck, arrogant and unyielding. After speaking, he walked away like a horse trying its hooves, and his whole body was as strong as a bulging sail. He found out that Cheng Jiaqing was having a meeting in Wenfeng Garden, and immediately rushed towards Wenfengguo like a torpedo charging towards a ship.Cheng Jiaqing was really inside, and his bear-like powerful voice couldn't bear the thick walls, so he had to let them vent their excess energy outside the venue.The old guerrilla was standing at the entrance of the venue, and Cheng Jiaqing was busy making a report, so he didn't bother to take a look here.And Secretary Hong seemed to have eyes all over his body, and these eyes were moving all the time, so he immediately spotted the old Guerrilla and recognized him within a second.He jumped out like a spring, and pulled the old Guerrilla into the reception room outside the conference room, his questions were extremely gentle and honest.The old guerrilla told him that he would see the magistrate Cheng soon.Secretary Hong stopped and rubbed his hands, and asked the old Guerrilla if he could wait for the meeting to end.The old guerrilla said no, there was something urgent.Secretary Hong didn't dare to be negligent, and rushed to the rostrum again, bowed his head beside Cheng Jiaqing and whispered something in his ear.Then he came out and respectfully asked the old guerrilla to rest in the lounge.After a while, Cheng Jiaqing entered the lounge, and as soon as he entered the lounge, he smiled and extended his hand enthusiastically to the old Guerrilla. "Old comrade, I heard that you are in a hurry to find me? Can five minutes be enough?" "Major Cheng! As an old party member, I request you to immediately release and detain the laid-off workers! Stop illegal fundraising!" Cheng Jiaqing was taken aback, it turned out to be—— "Old comrades, they gather people who don't know the truth, I really can't obey." "The laid-off workers are not our enemies, but our brothers. How can we treat them like this? Now that they are living in difficulties, we have to help them instead of treating them so roughly." "Old comrade, are you in your position and do not seek to govern yourself? If I don't warn the troublemakers, it will be tantamount to raising a tiger's legacy. If I don't put them in the detention room for self-reflection, everyone will go to the county party committee The government came to play wild, and I had no choice but to do it. Secretary Huang is a Maitreya Buddha and a bodhisattva with a heart. He can be soft, but I can't follow the softness. I did this not for my personal purpose. I ask the old comrades to forgive me, and I also ask the old comrades to calm down. Speaking of illegal fund-raising is pure nonsense. You know the current situation of An Ning-weasel Chinese New Year, every year is not as good as every year The county's finances are stretched, and factories are closed one by one, and it will be difficult to get through the difficulties without mobilizing everyone to raise funds." "If you say you have no money, do you really have no money? Officials can eat less." "Old comrade, don't you know that I'm a maid with keys, and I can't be the master of the house. I oppose eating and drinking, and meetings are like wind blowing. It's easy to say, which unit can listen to it? I can't sit in various units, right? ——With so many units, where do I come from? On the surface, everyone listens to me; , Can you just invite people to eat a bowl of porridge? After entering this running machine, I can only follow it. I can’t get it down here, so I can only find the cadres and workers in the middle to ask for it. Old comrades, five minutes is up, we will discuss this matter later. You can go back first, I have something to do after this meeting, how about this, Secretary Hong, please accompany this old comrade again." Secretary Hong said to the old guerrilla with a sad face: "I thought it was an urgent matter. How do you—hey, these three laid-off workers have nothing to do with you." "Tell you, I don't eat carrots and worry about them. Who said that the laid-off workers have nothing to do with me. Any worker is the master of the country. They share weal and woe with the Communists. Detaining them for no reason is a Wrong. If there is a mistake, correct it, this is the consistent style of the Communists.” Secretary Hong wiped the crowd up and down with his hand. "Or, how about this, you go back first, and I'll make some side attacks on the county magistrate Cheng to try to release these three workers as soon as possible. The county government has not made clear regulations on raising funds, so it can't be discussed. Don’t dare to cancel.” "There are no express regulations, so why are there express punishments? Although there are no explicit regulations, the punishment measures are not empty." "The workers have emotions, and raising funds is just an excuse for them. After all, they came here for their wages, and they haven't been paid for more than a year." "It's normal for workers to ask for wages." "The factory's efficiency is not good, and it's on the verge of closing down but not closing down. The most uncomfortable thing is this half-dead state, like a paralyzed patient who can't get better again. If he wants to die, he can still breathe, which is very exhausting. It doesn’t matter if it goes bankrupt or simply merges. Big cities still have a minimum wage standard for workers, but small places are different. There is nothing, and there is no time to formulate anything. Big cities have established, and small places can’t keep up. Get in tune with it." "It seems that people in small places don't have to live." "You—you go back first. Things will always have a result." "I'm waiting!" The old Guerrilla walked out of Wenfeng Garden with his back straight and his head held high.Before and after he came, the anger in his chest was still there, as if it was filled with gasoline, and if given a spark, it would explode. The next day, during a dispute with Cheng Jiaqing, the old guerrilla suffered a cerebral hemorrhage due to elevated blood pressure, and the treatment was ineffective, so he passed away. No one knows the details.Secretary Hong seems to be the world's most vengeful victim, calling out grievances whenever he sees anyone.He said: He didn't know anything about the quarrel between the old guerrilla and the magistrate Cheng in his office.When the magistrate Cheng called him in, the old man had already fallen to the ground. Many laid-off workers spontaneously participated in the memorial meeting of the old guerrilla, and bought wreaths, scrolls, incense candles, and yellow mounting paper to give to a good man they will never see again, a respectable and upright old man who spoke out about Jia Fu.Except for the three workers locked in the detention center, the entire Anning Equipment Factory workers participated in the memorial meeting for the old guerrilla.People wrote "True Communist Party members will live forever" on the curtains.I don't know whether it was due to the order or because of someone's coercion, no official from Anning County participated in the memorial meeting of the old guerrilla. Soon, it was discovered that the poet, the son of the old guerrilla, was missing. January 13, 1996.On this day that Westerners consider ominous, the Chinese are alive as always.They didn't bother to think about the turning point of this day. On this day, Director Zuo and the others stayed at Hu Donggen's house all morning. "Where will he be?" Director Zuo asked Jiang Ke. "Who?" "Son of old Guerrilla." "Some say he is dead. Some say he was persecuted by Cheng Jiaqing because he sought reasoning with Cheng Jiaqing. He is still alive and dead. If he is still alive, and no one knows his exact whereabouts, maybe he is really dead." "We must find him. If there is any situation about him, please report to us immediately." "Row."