Back to 80: My Literary Life

"Me? Isn't what you want to say exactly what I want to say?" Fang Minghua asked.

"Okay, where's Emily? What are you going to bring?"

"I wish her to write more excellent works!"

Song Tangtang was immediately amused.

"Okay, I'm kidding you. I don't care if you go dancing after I leave, but you are not allowed to ask anyone to drink!"

"I'm not an alcoholic. Besides, who can I drink with? The Red Army's drinking capacity is not worth mentioning. Lu Yao can't drink now. Chen Zhongshi is writing a novel in his hometown. As for Bai Miao, I heard that the president and editor-in-chief shoulder the responsibility. I work overtime all day long and am as busy as a dog, who should I go to for a drink?" Fang Minghua said confidently.

"Isn't there another Jia Pingwa?"

"Same. But I haven't heard much from him recently. What is this guy busy with all day?"

"No matter what, drink less!"

"As you command, my dear wife!"

Three days later, Song Tangtang packed up her suitcase, took her two children and her second aunt on a journey to the United States.

Fang Minghua drove them to Xijing Airport and told the two children to listen to their mother. He felt relieved when he saw a few people happily entering the security checkpoint.

Be free.

Let yourself go for a while.

Of course, you are not allowed to enter the dance hall, and there is no point in touching the little hands of strange girls. Besides, you have to pay attention to your social image.

Drink less alcohol and listen to your wife.

Then let’s drink tea.

I took the good Longjing tea to Yan Bingchu's house, drank tea with the old man and admired calligraphy and painting, or had a leisurely chat with Lu Yao, or went to the Xuecheng Bookstore near Western University to chat with Lei Xuecheng about literature, or went to Nanfang I went to take a look at my small building in the alley. It is basically completed now and will be renovated after a few months.

On a hot day, let's go to the night market with Zhao Hongjun to eat some barbecue and drink some beer.

Those bottles of beer were nothing.

I also have to go back and sit at my parents’ house.

Of course, the more important thing is writing, which cannot be delayed. Fang Minghua’s plan is to complete the manuscript by the end of the year.

This morning, Fang Minghua came back from a walk after breakfast. He had just made himself a cup of tea and sat in front of the computer. Before he turned on the phone, the phone in the living room rang. Fang Minghua went over to answer the call from the Writers Association.

"Minghua, I'm Hu Cai. Come to my office now. I want to tell you something."

"Okay, come right away."

Fang Minghua put on a short-sleeved shirt, hurried downstairs and drove his car straight to the Writers' Association. He entered the Writers' Association compound. As soon as his car parked, a red Santana came in behind him.

It's Lu Yao's car.

Seeing Lu Yao get out of the car, Fang Minghua asked: "Brother Lu, did Chairman Hu ask you to come here?"

"Yes, you too, right?"

"Yes, what on earth is going on?"

"Don't you know? Pingwa's father has passed away, so we are probably discussing condolences."

"Ah? No wonder I haven't seen or heard from him for so many days. What disease does he have?"

"Stomach cancer."

As they talked, the two came to Hu Cai's office in the backyard.

Sure enough, Hu Cai saw the two of them coming in and said: "Lu Yao, Minghua, you must already know about the death of Pingwa's father. Our Writers' Association is going to go to his hometown to express condolences in the name of the unit. I should be the one to go, but I I’m getting older and my heart is not in good condition. I’m afraid I can’t stand taking the bus for several hours, so I want to entrust you two to go to Shangluo on behalf of the Provincial Writers Association. It’s convenient for you to have a car, and the company will reimburse the travel expenses and gas expenses.”

The two immediately agreed to make a trip for both business and personal reasons.

"Also, Bai Miao from "Yanhe" is also preparing to go to Shangluo on behalf of the magazine and wants to give you a ride."

"No problem, call him when we leave."

After the two of them left the office, Fang Minghua said to Lu Yao, "Do you want to inform the junior high school?"

Lu Yao thought for a moment and said:

"Forget it, Zhongshi heard that writing is at its most critical moment, so let's not disturb him. We will send him a wreath when the time comes."

"Okay, then let's drive my car. It's more spacious." Fang Minghua said.

"Okay, let's go back and prepare and leave immediately."

Fang Minghua returned home and called Bai Miao's office. After explaining the situation, Bai Miao said that he was ready and just called him at the door of the magazine.

Half an hour later, Fang Minghua packed up his luggage, called Lu Yao downstairs, picked up Bai Miao at the magazine, and drove towards the east of the city.

Jia Pingwa's hometown is in Danfeng County, Shangzhou. After the car entered the Qinling Mountains, it kept driving along the Danjiang Gorge, sometimes crossing bridges and sometimes drilling tunnels. Villages were scattered on the small flat land beside the river.

We walked for almost six hours, and ate a bowl of noodles in a small town on the way. When we walked out of the canyon, the view became wider, and we were not far from Dihua Town, Danfeng County, Jia Pingwa's hometown.

Dihua Town is located at the southern foot of Qinling Mountains, between Danfeng County and Shangzhou City. The Danjiang River winds through the town and is a stop on the ancient Shangyu Road. The ancient road ran from Danfeng County, Shangluo, Shanxi to Neixiang County, Henan. It was an important political, military, and commercial thoroughfare in ancient times. Its history can be traced back to the Spring and Autumn Period. During the Warring States Period, it was known as "the flower of humanity and the Qinling Mountains hidden in the courtyard".

In the early years, the local area was rich in Tangdi flowers, hence the name Dihua Town. Bai Juyi once visited Dihua three times and left a famous sentence: "I heard that the brothers dreamed of traveling and staying in the distance, so the postal booth should be named Dihua". Many of Jia Pingwa's novels describe situations in her hometown, the most famous of which is "The First Record of Shangzhou".

This is a typical small town in southern Qin, with winding streets, old wooden houses from the 1940s and 1950s, earthen houses made of yellow adobe, and newly built blue brick and tile houses on both sides. Of course, it is not the half-covered houses in Guanzhong.

Fang Minghua just drove into the town and heard someone singing from a distance.

"What's the good of being a human being (oh)?

Just say (that person) is dead and (wow) is dead,

(that) relatives and friends don't know (wow) (hey).

Relatives and friends know,

The deceased has reached Naihe Bridge.

It turns out that someone is singing a filial song - "Naihe Bridge"

There is no need to get off the car to ask for the address of Jia Pingwa's house. Listen to the sound, watch which door has people coming in and out, and the busiest house is theirs.

In Shangzhou, similar to the customs in Guanzhong rural areas, people regard funerals as the most important thing in the whole village, and all other things must give way to funerals, because people can only die once in their lifetime, and other things He has a chance to start over.

So relatives, friends, and neighbors would come to help. Fang Minghua and his friends parked their car at the gate of the busiest house, with mourning couplets on both sides.

As soon as he got off the car, he saw several people wearing mourning clothes coming out of the yard. When they saw them, they immediately knelt down and kowtowed. Among them was Jia Pingwa.

This is also the custom of Qinnan. When people in mourning see people who come to pay their respects, no matter how old or senior the person is, they must kowtow to express their gratitude.

Fang Minghua and his friends quickly helped them up, and only then did he see Jia Pingwa clearly.

Oh my God

It's been a while since I last saw him, why is his face so haggard and sallow, like a different person.