Chapter 11 Novel: Crescent Moon (1) - Lao She

one Yes, I saw the crescent moon again, a pale golden hook with a little chill.How many times have I seen the same crescent moon as this one now; how many times.It carries all kinds of emotions and different scenes. When I sit down and look at it, it hangs obliquely on the blue clouds in my memory again and again.It awakens my memory like a night wind breaking a sleepy flower. two For the first time, Crescent Moon was indeed carrying a cold air.It was sour and bitter in my cloud for the first time, and its faint golden light shone on my tears.I was only seven years old then, a little girl in a short red padded jacket.Wearing a little hat my mother sewed for me, blue cloth with little flowers printed on it, I remember.I leaned against the door stack of that hut and looked at the crescent moon.The room smelled of medicine, smoke, mother's tears, and father's illness; I was alone on the steps looking at the crescent moon, no one greeted me, no one bothered to make me dinner.I know the misery in the room, because everyone talks about my father's illness... But I feel my misery even more. I am cold and hungry, and no one cares about me.I kept standing until the crescent moon fell.There's nothing left, and I can't stop crying.But my crying was suppressed by my mother; Dad, I was silent, and a white cloth was covered on my face.I want to lift the white cloth and look at Dad again, but I dare not.There was only so little space in the house, and it was all taken by Dad.My mother put on white clothes, and my red jacket was also covered with a white robe without a hem. I remember, because I kept tearing the white silk on the hem.Everyone was very busy, yelling loudly, and crying a lot, but there were not many things, and it seemed that it was not worth shouting: Dad was put into such a coffin with four thin boards, and there were seams everywhere.Then, five or six people carried him away.Mom and I were crying in the back.I remember dad, and his wooden box.That wooden box ended everything about Dad: Whenever I think of Dad, I think that I can't see him unless I open that wooden box.However, the wooden box was buried deep in the ground. I knew where it was buried outside the city, but it was like a raindrop falling on the ground, and it seemed that I would never find it.

three Mom and I were still in our white robes, and I saw the crescent moon again.It was a cold day, and my mother took me out of the city to see my father's grave.Mom was holding a very thin roll of paper.My mother was very kind to me that day, she gave me a ride when I couldn't walk, and bought me some fried chestnuts at the gate of the city.Everything is cold, but these chestnuts are warm; I am reluctant to eat them, and warm my hands with them.I can't remember how far I walked, but it must be very far away.On the day of Dad's funeral, I didn't seem to feel so far away, or it was because there were so many people; this time it was just our mother and son, Mom didn't talk, and I couldn't be bothered to make a sound, everything was quiet; those yellow dirt roads were so quiet. boss.The days are short, and I remember that tomb: a small pile of soil, and some high mounds in the distance, and the sun is slanting on the loess mounds.My mother didn't seem to care about me anymore, she put me aside, hugged the grave and cried.I sat next to the grave mound, fiddling with the few chestnuts in my hand.Mom cried for a while and burned the bit of paper. Some paper ashes rolled into one or two swirls in front of my eyes, and then fell lazily on the ground; the wind was small, but it was cold enough.Mom started crying again.I miss Dad too, but I don't want to cry for him; I cry for my mother so pitifully that I also shed tears.I went over and took my mother's hand: "Mom, don't cry! Don't cry!" Mom cried even more.She took me in her arms.As soon as the sun went down, there was no one around, only our mother and son.Mom seemed to be a little scared too, with tears in her eyes, she pulled me away and walked away. She looked back, and I turned around too: Dad's grave can no longer be distinguished; Grave mounds, in small piles, are placed all the way to the bottom of the mound.Mom sighed.We walked slowly, and before we reached the city gate, I saw Crescent Moon.It was pitch black outside, there was no sound, only Crescent Moon emitted a cold light.I'm tired, my mother picked me up.I don't know how to get into the city, I just remember that there is a crescent moon in the sky in a daze.

Four Just eight years old, I have learned to be things.I know that if we don't get the money, my mother and I won't have dinner; because my mother has some ideas and won't ask me to go.I must know that every time she handed me a small bag, there would be no trace of porridge in the pot.Our pots are sometimes as clean as decent widows.This day, what I hold is a mirror.Only this thing seemed unnecessary, although mother had to use it every day.It was spring, and our cotton padded clothes were put into the pawn shop as soon as we took them off.I take this mirror, I know how to be careful, be careful and go fast, the pawnshops are always there early.I'm afraid of the big red door of the pawn shop, the big tall long counter.As soon as I saw that door, my heart skipped a beat.But I have to go in, it seems to be climbing in, the high threshold is so high.I had to exhaust my strength, handed over my things, and shouted: "Dangdang!" After I got the money and the pawn ticket, I knew how to handle it carefully, and went home quickly, knowing that my mother was worried.But this time, the pawnshop doesn't want this mirror and told me to add another one.I know what "number one" is.Holding the mirror to my chest, I ran home desperately.Mom cried; she couldn't find the second thing.I was used to living in that hut, and I always thought I had a lot of things; it wasn't until I helped my mother find suitable clothes that I realized in my heart that we had very little, very little.Mom didn't ask me to go.But "Mom, what should we eat?" My mother cried and handed me the silver hairpin on her head-only this one thing is silver.I know, she unplugged it several times, but she refused to hand it over to me.This is a piece of jewelry given by my grandma when my mother went out.Now, she gave me this last piece of silver, and told me to put down the mirror.I hurried back to the pawn shop as fast as I could, and the dreadful door was firmly shut.I sat on the door pier, holding the silver hairpin.I didn't dare to cry loudly, I looked at the sky, ah, it was the crescent moon shining on my tears again! After crying for a long time, my mother came in the shadows, and she took my hand, vomit, what a hot hand , I forgot all the hardships, even hunger, as long as I have my mother's hot hand holding me.I sobbed and said: "Mom! Let's go home and sleep. Come back tomorrow morning!" Mom didn't say a word.After walking for a while: "Mom! Look at this crescent moon; it was so crooked the day Dad died. Why is she always so slanted?" Mom still didn't say a word, her hands trembling a little.

Fives My mother washes clothes for others all day long.I always want to help my mother, but I can't get in.I had to wait for my mother, and I wouldn't go to bed until she was done.Sometimes the crescent moon has already come up, and she still washes it with a whimper.Those smelly socks, like hard cowhide, were sent by the boys in the shop.After my mother washed these "cowhide", she couldn't eat.I sat next to her and looked at the crescent moon. Bats would pass back and forth under that light, like a big water chestnut on a silver thread, and then quickly fall into the darkness again.The more I feel sorry for my mother, the more I love this crescent moon, because looking at it makes me feel better.It is more lovely in summer, it is always so cool, like a piece of ice.I love the little shadow it casts on the ground, it disappears after a while; it is vague and unclear, and when the shadow disappears, the ground is very dark, the stars are also very bright, and the flowers are also very fragrant—our There are many flowers and trees in the neighborhood, and the tall acacia tree always falls to our side, like a layer of snow.

six My mother's hands were scaly and told her to rub the top of her back to relieve the itching.But I dare not work her too often, her hands are rough.She is thin and often skips meals because of the smelly socks.I know mom is thinking about it, I know it.She often pushes her clothes aside, staring blankly.She talks to herself.What was she thinking? I couldn't guess. seven My mother told me not to make me feel awkward, but to call me "Dad" obediently: she found another dad for me.This is another dad, I know, because there is already a dad buried in the grave.When Mom told me, she looked away.She said with tears in her eyes, "I can't tell you to starve to death!" Heck, it's because I didn't starve to death that my mother found another father for me! I don't understand many things. If you go hungry again.What a coincidence, when we left our hut, there was a crescent moon in the sky again.The crescent moon this time is clearer and more terrifying than any other time; I am about to leave this hut I am used to living in.Mom took a red sedan chair, and there were a few drummers in front of her, who didn't play well at all.The sedan chair walked in front, and a man and I followed behind, and he took my hand.That terrible crescent shone a little, as if trembling in the cool wind.There was no one on the street, only some wild dogs were chasing and biting the drummers; the sedan chair was moving very fast.Where are we going? Should I carry my mother out of the city, to the cemetery? That man dragged me away, and I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't even cry if I wanted to.The man's palms were sweating, and it was as cold as a fish. I wanted to call "Mom", but I didn't dare.After a while, the crescent moon was like a big eye slit about to close, and the sedan chair entered an alley.

Eight I don't seem to have seen the crescent moon again for three or four years.The new dad is very kind to us, he has two houses, he and mom live in the inner room, and I sleep on the bunk outside.I wanted to sleep with my mother at first, but after a few days, I fell in love with "my" cabin.The room has white walls, a long table, and a chair.This seems to be all mine.My quilt is also thicker and warmer than before.My mother also gradually gained weight, her face turned red, and the scales on her hands slowly fell off.I haven't been to Dangdang for a long time.My new dad told me to go to school.Sometimes he still plays with me for a while.I don't know why I don't like calling him "Dad", although I know he is cute.He seems to know this too, he often smiles at me like that; when he smiles he has beautiful eyes.But my mother secretly told me to call me Dad, and I didn't want to be very awkward.I understand in my heart that my mother and I have food and drink now, all because of this father, I understand.Yes, in the past three or four years, I can't remember seeing a crescent moon; maybe I have seen it and don't remember much.I will never forget the crescent moon when my father died, and the crescent moon in front of my mother's sedan chair.That little bit of light, that little bit of coldness, is always in my heart, brighter than anything else, cool and refreshing, like a piece of jade, sometimes it seems like I can touch it with my hands when I think of it.

Nine I love going to school.I always thought that there were quite a few flowers in the school, but there weren’t any; it was just that when I thought of school, I thought of flowers, just like when I thought of my father’s grave, I thought of the crescent moon outside the city—crazy in the wild wind.Mother loves flowers very much. Although she can't afford to buy one, but someone gives her one, she likes to wear it on her head very much.When I get a chance, I will fold one or two for her; wearing a fresh flower, my mother's back looks like she is still very young.Mom likes it, and so do I.I also like it in school.Maybe because of this, when I think of school, I think of flowers?

ten When I was about to graduate from elementary school, my mother told me to go to Dangdang again.I don't know why the new dad suddenly left.Where he went, Mom didn't seem to know.Mom also told me to go to school, she thought Dad would be back soon.He did not come back for many days, not even a letter.I think it's time for Mom to wash the smelly socks again, which makes me very uncomfortable.But mom didn't plan that way.She still dresses up and loves flowers; it's strange! She doesn't cry, but it's funny; why? I don't understand! Several times, when I came from school, I saw her standing by the door.Not long after, I was walking on the road, and someone "hi" me: "Hi! Send a message to your mother!" "Hi! Do you sell it? Little tender!" When the fire comes, lower your head as low as possible.I get it, I just can't help it.I can't ask my mother, no.She is very kind to me, and sometimes said to me very solemnly: "Study! Study!" Mom is illiterate, why is she urging me to study like this? I was suspicious; and I often thought that my mother did that for me thing.Mom has no better way.When I was suspicious, I wished I could scold my mother.Thinking about it again, I want to hug her and beg her not to do that thing again.I hate myself for not being able to help my mother.So I also thought: What is the use of me after graduating from elementary school? I asked my classmates, and some told me that several of those who graduated last year were concubines.Some told me who was behind the door.I don't know much about these things, but from what they said, I guess it's not a good thing.They seemed to know it all, and secretly talked about things they knew were wrong--things that made them blush and smug.I am even more suspicious of my mother, whether I can do it after I graduate... Thinking about it this way, sometimes I dare not go home, I am afraid to see my mother.My mother sometimes gave me money for snacks, but I refused to spend them. I went to gymnastics hungry and often fainted.How sweet it is to watch others eat some! But I have to save money, in case my mother tells me to go... I can run, if I have money in my hand.When I was the richest, I had more than ten cents in my hand! At these times, even in the daytime, I would sometimes look up at the sky and look for my crescent moon.If the pain in my heart could be compared to a shape, it would be in the shape of a crescent moon.It hangs helplessly in the gray-blue sky, the light is weak, and soon it will be surrounded by darkness.

eleven The saddest thing for me is that I slowly learned to hate my mother.But whenever I hate her, I unconsciously think of her carrying me to the grave.When I think about it, I can't hate her anymore.I must hate her.My heart is still like that crescent moon, which can only be bright for a while, but the darkness is infinite.Men often come to my mother's room, and she no longer avoids me.Their eyes looked at me like a dog, their tongues stuck out and salivated.I am more satisfying in their eyes, I can see it.In a short period of time, I suddenly understood many things.I know that I have to protect myself, I feel that there is something precious about me, I can smell something that I already have, which makes me shy and emotional.I have some power in me, I can protect myself, and I can destroy myself.Sometimes I'm tough and sometimes I'm soft.I don't know what to do.I would like to love my mother. At this time, I have many things that I need to ask my mother, and I need her comfort; but at this moment, I have to avoid her, I have to hate her; otherwise, I myself will not exist.When I can't sleep, I think calmly, my mother is forgiving.She has to watch our mouths.But this made me refuse to eat the food she gave me.My heart is so hot and cold, like the winter wind, after a short rest, it blows harder; I wait for my anger to rush, and I can't stop it.

twelve Things got worse when I couldn't think of a better way.My mother asked me, "How?" If I really loved her, my mother said, I should help her.Otherwise, she can no longer control me.It wasn't like something Mom could say, but she said it.She made it very clear: "I'm getting old soon, and in two years, I'm going to ask people to ask for it, and no one will ask for it!" That's right, my mother has put on a lot of powder recently, and there are still creases on her face.She wants to take another step to serve a man exclusively.Her spirit is too late to serve many men.Thinking for herself, if someone wanted her at this moment—a shopkeeper of a steamed bun shop wanted her—she should leave immediately.But I am already a big girl, and I am not as easy to walk behind my mother's sedan chair as I was when I was a child.I had to make up my mind to set myself up.If I am willing to "help" my mother, she can stop taking this step and let me earn money instead of her.Earn money for her, I'd love to; but the way of earning it makes me tremble.What do I know, telling me to earn money like an old woman?! Mother's heart is cruel, but money is even more cruel.My mother didn't force me to go which way, she told me to choose by myself - to help her, or to go our own way.There are no tears in my mother's eyes, they have dried up a long time ago.what should I do?

Thirteen I told the principal.The principal is a woman in her forties, fat, not very shrewd, but warm-hearted.I'm really out of ideas, otherwise how would I open my mouth to tell my mother... I have never been close to the principal.When I spoke to her, every word was like a red-hot briquette scalding my throat, and I was dumb, and it took me a long time to utter a single word.The principal is willing to help me.She can't give me money, but can only provide me with two meals and a place to live - just live in the school and the company of an old maid.She asked me to help the secretary write and write, but I don't have to do it right away, because my handwriting still needs practice.Two meals, one lodging, solved the big problem.I can not implicate my mother.This time my mother didn't even take a sedan chair, she just took a rickshaw and left in the dark.My bedding, she gave me.Before leaving, my mother struggled not to cry, but the tears from the bottom of my heart finally came up.She knows I can't go to her again, her own daughter.As for me, I even forgot how to cry, I just grinned and sobbed, tears covered my face.I was her daughter, friend, comfort.But I can't help her unless I have to do something that I would never do.In hindsight, we, my mother and I, are like two neglected dogs. Because of our mouths, we have to suffer all kinds of hardships, as if we have nothing but a mouth.For this mouth we have to sell everything else.I don't hate my mother anymore, I get it.It's not my mother's fault, nor is it that I shouldn't have that mouth. It's a fault of the food. Why don't we have food? This parting has overwhelmed all the pain in the past.The crescent moon that knows best how my tears flow will not come out this time, this time there is only darkness, not even the light of a firefly.Mom left like a living ghost in the dark, without even a shadow.Even if she dies immediately, I'm afraid she won't be buried with Dad. I don't even know where her future grave is.I have only one mother, friend.I am left in my world. fourteen My mother will never see each other again, love is dead in my heart, like a spring flower beaten by frost.I worked hard to practice calligraphy, so that I could help the principal copy and write some unimportant things.I must be useful, I am eating other people's food.I am not like those female classmates who pay attention to others all day long, what others eat, what they wear, and what they say; I always pay attention to myself, and my shadow is my friend. "I" is always on my heart because no one loves me.I love myself, I pity myself, I encourage myself, I blame myself; I know myself as if I were another person.The slightest change in me frightens me, delights me, and baffles me.I hold it in my own hands, like holding a delicate flower.I can only focus on the present, not the future, and I dare not think deeply.Chewing someone's meal, I know it's noon or night, or I can't remember the time; without hope, there is no time.I seem to be nailed to a place where there is no sun or moon.Thinking of my mother, I know that I have lived for more than ten years.For the future, I don't look forward to holidays, festivals, and New Years like my classmates. What do holidays, festivals, and New Years have to do with me? But my body is growing up, I think.I feel that I have grown up a little more, I am more slim, and I am not at ease with myself.The older I get, the more beautiful I feel, which is a little consolation; beauty makes me elevate my status.But I have no status at all. Comfort is sweet at first and then bitter, and bitterness makes me proud at the end.Poor, but good-looking! This makes me afraid: my mother is not ugly either.