Chapter 25 Sleep

The plane took on the mission of dropping bombs, flying over the city of Beijing every morning like a school lesson.Every time I hear the sound of mechanical parts fighting the air, I often feel a slight tension, as if I have witnessed the attack of "death", But at the same time, I also deeply feel the existence of "life". After vaguely hearing one or two explosions, the plane buzzed and flew away slowly.Some people may be killed or injured, but the world seems to be more peaceful.The young leaves of the poplar outside the window glow black and golden in the sun; the elm plum blossoms are also blooming more brilliantly than yesterday.After tidying up the daily newspapers that were scattered all over the bed, and brushing off the pale dust that gathered on the desk last night, my small study in all directions is still the so-called "bright and clean window" today.

For one reason or another, I started to edit and edit the manuscripts of young authors who have always been backlogged here; I want to clear them all.I read the works according to the year and month, and the souls of these young people who refused to paint and paint stood in front of me one by one.They are graceful and innocent,—oh, yet they are distressed, moaning, angry, and at last rough, my dear youths. The soul is violently beaten by the wind and sand, because this is the soul of a person, and I love such a soul; I am willing to kiss on the invisible, colorless, bloody rough.In the misty famous garden, strange flowers are in full bloom, and the beautiful Jingnv is enjoying herself in a detached way, a crane chirps, and white clouds rise up...This is naturally fascinating, but I always remember that I am living in the world.

I suddenly remembered one thing: Two or three years ago, in the faculty preparation room of Peking University, I saw an unfamiliar young man come in, silently handed me a pack of books, and went out. This "Asakusa".It was in this silence that I learned a lot.Ah, what a bountiful gift!It's a pity that "Asakusa" is no longer published, and it seems to have only become the predecessor of "Sinking Bell".The "Sinking Bell" is ringing lonely and deep in the bottom of the sea of ​​people in this windy and sandy cave. The wild thistle has been almost fatally broken, and it still has a small flower. I remember that Tolstoy was so moved that he wrote a novel because of it.However, in the midst of the arid desert, the grass and trees desperately stretch their roots to absorb the water springs deep in the ground to form a verdant forest. Naturally, it is for their own "birth". I just feel that I can be grateful and sad when I meet a temporary place to rest my shoulders.

Sad thing? ! "Shen Zhong" - the representative notice - said: "Some people say: Our society is a desert. - If it is really a desert, even though it is desert, it is still quiet at all; even if it is lonely, it will still make you feel lonely. Boundless. How can it be so chaotic, so gloomy, and so bizarre!" Yes, the spirits of youth stand before my eyes, they have been rough, or they will be rough, but I love these bloody and painful souls, because they make me feel that they are in the world and alive in the world. The sun was setting in the middle of editing, and the lights gave me continuous light.All kinds of youth gallop away one by one in front of my eyes, but there is twilight surrounding me.I was tired, holding a cigarette, quietly closed my eyes in the nameless thoughts, and saw a long dream.Sudden alertness, the surroundings are still surrounded by a hazy yellow; smoke seals soar up in the motionless air, like a few small summer clouds, slowly creating an indescribable image.

April 10, 1926.