Excerpts from the text |
After receiving my call for help, Wang Lu intermittently recorded Zhang Zhou's program for me, saved a certain amount and sent it to Nanjing. Each cassette is labeled on the side and carefully dated. Wang Lu wrote the words, and the folded horns of the strokes resembled the tiny joints of insects. These tapes became my most cherished things, and I arranged them neatly at the head of the bed, imagining that I was preserving fragments of sound for the archaeology of human civilization hundreds of years later, and Wang Lu and I formed a strong friendship.
Tomorrow's Party
□ Zhou Jianning
Later, many of my friends will remember that on September 8, 2000, Luo Dayou's first concert in mainland China was held in Shanghai. It is said that thousands of people in Beijing went south to take over the K13 train the night before. On the train, young people talked all night, standing at the air vent at the seam smoking. Over the years, this collective memory has occasionally poured back, who was with that day, where to sit in the stadium, where to go after the end of the game to usher in the early morning. At the time, however, neither my friends nor my friends knew anyone.
I was supposed to report to college that day, but I postponed my registration because I received tickets for the concert from the radio. My first wish was the Computer Science Department of Shanghai University, and I waited for two waves of notices without me, and when the third wave was received, I was transferred to a school in Nanjing, majoring in communications. The result, though worse than expected, was reasonable. In the last semester, my grades hovered at the bottom of the grade, and I remained calm and the surface, and I was already in a state of going with the flow inside. At night, when my family fell asleep, I dialed the Internet and wandered around chat rooms and forums. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and it's past school time. During that time, midnight radio began a new music program, and after the opening paragraph of a Fantasia overture played by Haefez, the host said: "One wave always connects to the next." I am your friend Zhang Zhou. "I hear the epilogue every day and sometimes feel like I'm the only one receiving the waves.
The night I got the acceptance letter, I wrote to Zhang Zhou until the early hours of the morning, but I had no specific impression of what I wrote. Two weeks later I received a reply from the radio station, the envelope was extremely thin, after opening it there was a ticket for The Luo Dayou concert, I read the envelope inside and out several times, unfortunately, I did not find any other information and handwriting. Tickets are the cheapest, stage-side on the top of the second floor. The first time I went to the stadium, I walked to the wrong stand, climbed over the mountains to find my seat, and soon after I sat down, the girl next to me checked the code and asked me: "Are you also An audience member of Zhang Zhou?" ”
"Yes!" I said happily, shaking hands with her at once.
"My name is Wang Lu." Wang Lu said and took a fluorescent ring from his wrist and buckled it on my wrist. The lights on the stage lit up a few times, then dimmed again, and the shouts came and went like waves. Suddenly the piano sounded, Luo Dayou appeared in the corner of the stage, and we looked down from the top of the mountain, he was in a small patch of white light, dressed in black pants, while his image was projected on a huge screen in mid-air, next to a real moon in the sky. A man in the front row suddenly burst into tears and trembled. Wang Lu and I raised our hands, and the fluorescent rings on our wrists were pink and blue, like two shallow nebulae.
After the end of the scene, Wang Lu and I were dispersed by the crowd and met at the exit again. I asked her how to get back and she said walk back. She was in her third year at drama school and walked a little faster to get back to her dorm room in an hour. So I went with her. People coming out of the stadium are migrating to Hengshan Road, and we walk in the middle of this group of people for a while, and walk in the middle of that group of people, carrying boxes of beer, carrying guitars and speakers, like migratory birds in transit, and finally dissipating into the bars and karaoke along the way. Not long after crossing Hengshan Road, only me and Wang Lu were left on the boulevard in the middle of the night.
"Did you also write a letter to Zhang Zhou?" I asked Wang Lu.
"Yeah. Most of my classmates followed the crew to shoot in the field, I did not shoot, and listened to the radio in the dormitory all day. Wang Lu said.
"You're from the Acting Department?"
"I look so ordinary, someone is always surprised."
"No, no, no."
"The instructor of the Chinese opera said that I was very similar to Zhang Ziyi in terms of mental outlook." Wang Lu laughed at himself. However, this is not the case at all. The king deer was a long way taller than me, with soft and fluffy curls, shallow features, and a long neck, like a rare animal in the vast grassland. Wearing jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, he wears a key chain, a mobile phone chain, colorful beads, woven straps and ribbons around his neck and wrists. Her temperament is complex and chaotic, but there is no superfluous movement between her hands and feet. I was not embarrassed to stare at her, and I couldn't help but look at her again. She was the best looking person I had ever seen, as if she had suddenly fallen through a wormhole into the world on my side.
"I plan to go to graduate school next year." Wang Lu said again.
"Are you going to Beijing?"
"Yeah. Anyway, I didn't have anything else to do after I graduated. ”
"I've never been to Beijing."
"Then you have to go, Beijing is equivalent to San Francisco." Wang Lu said with fair certainty.
We said goodbye at the entrance of the Drama Academy and exchanged cell phone numbers. Then I caught the last train, returned home at one o'clock in the morning, turned on the radio and found that Zhang Zhou's program was over, and the soft chamber music put a live broadcast in the early morning. I was physically exhausted and energetic, and I had strange and shallow dreams all night, until I was called up by my father the next morning, who borrowed a van from the unit to take me to Nanjing to report. I sat in the back seat with my bike tied next to me. Shortly after leaving the high-speed toll booth, I realized that this was the first time I had left Shanghai, but there was no wave in my heart, and I quickly fell asleep. Halfway through, I woke up and saw the white windmills of the power station all over the mountain, and the fluorescent ring given by the king deer last night was still clasped to my wrist, but it was no longer glowing, just a dim ring.
We arrived in Nanjing before noon, the school was next to Xuanwu Lake, next to the old railway station, very small, only a teaching building, no playground, from the outside it was just an ordinary office. My dad wanted to spend the night with me, but I didn't want to be sad, so I rushed him back to the dormitory alone after checking in. At night I plugged in my headphones and turned on the Walkman as usual, but there was no Haefez overture on the same band, only the hollow distant rustle. I just remembered that I couldn't receive the Shanghai radio in Nanjing, and Zhang Zhou's radio waves were blocked. I sent a text message to Wang Lu in the dark: "Help, I'm exiled." ”
After that, Wang Lu went to Beijing several times to attend lectures and theater workshops held by Chinese opera, contact tutors, and prepare for the postgraduate examination in winter. The area around the play is full of people who are waiting and looking for opportunities like her, and she has made a group of romantic friends there, which I am quite envious of. We sometimes chatted on MSN, and she was uncertain, often kept silent for days, and often just returned from an interesting place when she reappeared. Reservoirs, mountains, grasslands. She also met Wang Shuo and Cui Jian at a party in the suburbs. I was willing to listen to her talk about these things for days and nights, but there were always interruptions in the middle, and there were boys who came to her to borrow books, or boys who came to her to listen to music. I don't know if it was the same boy, I asked, but I can't remember how she answered, I think she was in love with several boys at the same time.
In order to chat with Wang Lu, I went to the Internet café next door every day, and after a long time, I became friends with the administrator Xiao Xiao. Xiao Xiao was originally from the Institute of Posts and Telecommunications, and after dropping out of school, she worked as an administrator in an Internet café during the day and worked in a club at night, while also preparing for the TOEFL test. Sometimes I would ride with him to the mountains and sit at a stone table eroded by the rain and chat, always getting dark very quickly. Later, even if I went to class, I couldn't help but run away halfway and go to the lake or the city wall with Xiao Xiao. We got along like we were in love, but because Xiao Xiao planned to go to the United States to study the next year, no one was clear about the relationship. I occasionally talked to Wang Lu about Xiao Xiao, and couldn't help but describe my wasteful life more poetically.
Wang Lu called me to Beijing several times to look for her. In the winter she said she went ice skating in Shichahai, and in the spring she said that her friends who walked on the wall had a barbecue on the roof of the courtyard. I longed in my heart, but I never acted. It was already a year after we met again, and at the end of the summer vacation, Wang Lu returned to Shanghai from Beijing and stopped by to stay in Nanjing for one night. I asked Xiao Xiao where she should take her to nanjing if she had a friend.
"Friends from Shanghai?" Girls? Does it look good? Xiao Xiao asked me.
"Drama School Acting Department, you say it's not good-looking."
"When it's not cold yet, go for a swim in Zixia Lake Park."
"Going for a swim?"
"You know it when you go. I promise you that you and your friends will never forget. ”
After taking Wang Lu to drop off my luggage in the dormitory, I went to the soldiers' club to play, and I saw the last one from the first video store, avoiding the hottest time of the day. Then we bought cheap swimwear and took the bus to the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum. According to Xiao Xiao, I took it for granted that there was an open-air swimming pool in Zixia Lake Park, and as a result, I followed two old men wearing swimming caps into the park along the path and were surprised to see a huge green lake. Surrounded by trees on all sides and backed by mountains, young people with good physical strength climbed the water tower by the lake, jumped into the water one by one, and splashed with water. And the lake surface is undulating, are colorful swimming caps, and paddling arms. Wang Lu and I were so happy that we sighed loudly.
We changed our bathing suits in the clean public toilets, walked half a circle around the lake, found a small flat patch of grass, put down our school bags and clothes, and couldn't wait to get underground. The stones on the soles of my feet were sharp and the mud was warm, and the deer stepped out two large splashes and swam out, splashing me with water, and I quickly followed. The water temperature was lower than I thought, but the sun was still hot on my shoulders. I awkwardly stretched myself in the water, re-adjusting to the new horizon. Someone was playing the accordion in the pavilion, and white birds hung from the trees, and a golden mist of water floated from time to time.
I swim badly, I can only dog planers, no matter how hard I pedal my legs, I always whirling around in the same place. Wang Lu was much more powerful, she climbed to the water tower and jumped into the water twice, the first time was to jump on her knees, and the second time was to swoop into the water with her arms folded, like a predatory water bird. When I climbed ashore breathlessly, I looked around the lake to find her, she was squinting her eyes and floating on her back, from time to time raising one side of her arm to draw an arc backwards, taking a long breath, and then raising the other side of the arm, slowly drifting in the direction of the center of the lake.
Before the sun went down, Wang Lu and I washed our hair in the sink of the toilet, washed our swimsuits, and then found a tree that was not tall or short, and spread the swimsuit flat on the branches. The air was still warm, surrounded by an extremely unreal light glow. Mid-air green bugs and buzzing mosquitoes crashed into us in clumps, and we kept flapping our legs and arms. Swimmers came out of the water one after another, sat on the shore and rested, playing cards on plastic sheets. Wang Lu and I were hungry, went to the commissary to buy yogurt and cake, ate it in large bites, leaned on our backs on our bags, waited for the hot wind to blow over, and dried our hair and swimsuit together.
"How did you find this nice place?" Wang Lu asked me.
"Xiao Xiao told me."
"Is Xiao Xiao your boyfriend now?"
"I don't know, it's always a little unclear."
"But he knows that such a good place must be a good boyfriend." Wang Lu said and remembered important things, took out a copy of "Audiovisual World" from his bag, and turned to the last page to show me. It is the notice of the radio station young host competition, the rules are very simple, record a twenty-minute program, the theme is not limited, and send it to the radio station together with the registration form.
"Let's go together, I think of you as soon as I see this, and we talk about music as usual." Wang Lu said.
"But I can't do it well." Even though I said this, I read the notice over and over again. Wang Lu quickly convinced me. After dark, we packed up our things and walked a long way in the mountains, taking the bus to the club where Xiao Xiao worked to borrow a tape recorder. There was a little wind, and the wind was still hot, blowing the hair and skin dry and clean. While waiting for the car, Wang Lu took out a bag of Zhongnanhai from his pants pocket and gave me one, tide- I had never smoked a cigarette, but at that time, because of the enthusiasm in my heart, I felt that I had to smoke. Later, we stood by the window of the carriage to blow the wind, and after passing through the tunnel, it was Xuanwu Lake under the moonlight. I was lying on the railing, feeling like I was in a dream, and I thought it was because the king deer seemed to be with the king deer, and everything around me was also dreamy.
The windbreak said that it was next door to Nanda, in fact, it would take a car to the South Gate for another twenty minutes, in a residential area. Passing by fragrant plants at night and an underground passage mixed with musty smell and moisture, the windbreak is the windbreak. Half underground, half above ground, originally a warehouse, transformed into a club, walking in is a gentle slope, the things and people placed are in a state that will collapse at any time, until there is a small stage at the bottom of the slope, with a set of gray drum stands, it seems that there has been no serious performance for a long time. I only came with xiao xiao once when I first met him, when there were two or three tables of people gathered around to play poker and drink beer, and Xiao Xiao said that they were all friends of the boss, a group of poets and directors. But it seemed to me that it was smoky, no different from the chess and card room, and I never went there again.
However, it was different with Wang Lu. When our eyes adjusted to the darkness, Wang Lu was in the middle of a pile of rags and exclaimed enthusiastically: "This place seems to be the back sea." Like Woodstock. "Xiao Xiao and I obviously know that this place has nothing to do with Houhai or Woodstock, but when we see wang lu happy, we can't help but be happy, as if we are different from usual, and we have become the master of Houhai Woodstock."
But Xiao Xiao did look different that night. Not to say that he looked like that, he was still like that, with an outdated Aaron Kwok head, all the clothes and pants on his body were too short, like old clothes borrowed from someone else to wear, but clean and flat, along with his sneakers, it looked like they had been washed many times. I couldn't tell whether it was because of Wang Lu's existence or whether I re-examined him with Wang Lu's eyes, feeling that he was destitute and absolutely pure. Along with the surrounding environment also becomes different. I removed a few damp cushions and found a dry place to sit. The hot wind from the fan blew the newspapers on the walls loudly, and above the horizon there was a row of flat windows facing the street outside, from where the faint light of the night came in.
I told Xiao Xiao that we were going to participate in the radio host competition, Xiao Xiao was also very energetic, he found a dual sim recorder from the rags to help us record, no one had used it for many years, but after plugging in the power supply, the function was intact. Although the recording sound quality is poor and full of ambient noise, Xiao Xiao thinks it is cool and shows the style of youth. Later, we watched the 1994 Hung Hom Sports Centre concert in Hong Kong. Xiao Xiao and Wang Lu have watched this concert several times intermittently, only the first time I watched it, I was moved to goosebumps.
"I saw a picture in a magazine of them coming back from a plane from Hong Kong after a show, all of them full of spirits, smoking and drinking on the plane, going back and forth." Xiao Xiao said.
"Can I smoke and drink on the plane?" Wang Lu asked.
"I haven't been on a plane. But it was 1994, and I think you could do whatever you wanted in 1994. Xiao Xiao said.
"This disc is hard to find, I used to look at it in the school reference room, where did you find it?" Wang Lu asked Xiao Xiao.
"A friend gave me a box of DVDs, records and a leather jacket before I left Nanjing. The friend later went to the radio station in Shanghai and never contacted him again. I don't know if you have heard of Zhang Zhou. Xiao Xiao said.
"Zhang Zhou!" Wang Lu and I exclaimed.
"Is he that famous?" Xiao Xiao was also shocked.
"Not exactly." Wang Lu said.
"Has Zhang Zhou been in Nanjing?" I asked.
"He was working as a culture teacher at an art school and came to the windbreak every night." Xiao Xiao said.
"When was that?" I asked.
"Three years ago. I just came to Nanjing. Xiao Xiao said.
Wang Lu and I had more questions, but Xiao Xiao recalled it hard, and there was nothing to say.
"He's not very active in anything, purely here. But I think he also made some efforts. Xiao Xiao said.
"What effort?" We asked.
"Trying to get rid of the decadent and happy atmosphere. I don't know if I'm right. Xiao Xiao replied.
A month later, Wang Lu and I unexpectedly received a notice from the radio station of the rematch, which was held on the radio station, and the theme was decided by lottery on the spot, and the fifteen minutes of improvisation were hosted. On the day of the rematch, Wang Lu and I met at the entrance of the Broadcasting Building, exchanged for a temporary pass, and followed the instructions to an oval conference room to wait. The conference room was heavily furnished with tables and chairs, dull and serious, no different from ordinary office buildings. After that, twenty people came one after another, similar in age, and all of them were radio fans. A boy came all the way from the northwest with a guitar on his back, and he traveled from place to place to compete, and the wind and dust were endless. Several of us sneaked out together to find a place to smoke, pushed open the fire door and came to the terrace in the corner. From there, you can see vehicles turning on the elevated road, a large green belt, a large construction site. We stood in the wind, the reality receded far away, everyone was lying on the railing, suddenly there was some emotion, no one spoke again.
When I came back I slowed down and walked behind them, and across the hallway were a few recording studios with red lights at work. The light is deeper there, and the texture and frequency of the air vary slightly. Later, the re-examination was conducted in one of the recording studios, and three interview teachers sat across the glass. I heard my own voice in my ears and for the first time felt something in my heart that I didn't want to lose. The original fifteen-minute limited time, Wang Lu and I overtimed by ten minutes, only to be interrupted by the chief judge sitting on the left side. The teacher, who was unrecognizable in age, was wearing a men's work jacket and looked like both an expeditionary and a gypsy. She maintained eye contact with us throughout the whole process, gentle and determined. Then she deliberately got up and went to the door and solemnly shook hands with us to say goodbye.
It was raining autumn outside the broadcasting building, the giant excavators at the subway site were shut down, and dust was falling with the rain. Wang Lu and I had hot skin, and we had a fragile hope in our hearts, and neither of us dared to say it. We walked a long way in the rain, came to Wang Lu's dormitory, and dried our hair. Wang Lu made instant coffee, peeled off oranges, and planned to chat with me all night. Near midnight we sat by the window, smoking a cigarette while listening to Zhang Zhou's program, Wang Lu's eyes were full of whimsy and determination, and my heart burst with the same emotion. Then we talked about Zhang Zhou. His age, his identity, his situation in Nanjing, his life before and now. In fact, we don't know anything about all of this, and talking about him like a fiction is actually more like talking about ourselves.
"I've never had any good luck as a person." I say.
"Don't say that, I think the so-called good fortune is that the desire to concentrate on it finally gets a response from the universe." Wang Lu answered.
However, Wang Lu and I could not wait for good luck any longer. Soon I saw the results of the competition in a new issue of Audiovisual World magazine, and the Northwest boy won the first place. An interview about him is also attached. It was mentioned in the interview that after the game, the radio station gave him a real radio show and let him serve as the host. But after leaving Shanghai, he went to Beijing, followed a documentary crew deep into the grasslands of Inner Mongolia, and will travel there for half a year, so he did not come back to receive the award and gave up the program.
I sent a long message to Wang Lu, and she didn't reply to me for several days. However, Xiao Xiao finished the TOEFL test and planned to return to her hometown in Qingdao to prepare visa materials and go to Qingdao for two days. He asked me if I wanted to go with me. I immediately agreed. A few days later we got on the train, and I had a few cassettes of tapes in my bag, one about the Beatles, one about Kusturica, and one about the moon landing in 1968. I listened all the way, and Xiao Xiao played chess all night with the big brother next door. After seeing nothing outside the window in the middle of the night, Xiao Xiao and I went to the junction of the carriages to smoke, imitating the rock star who smoked on the plane, but was stopped twice by the conductor.
After arriving in Qingdao, Xiao Xiao took me to a friend's house. Friends and girlfriends live in factory dormitories, several of them are high school classmates, those two people are tall and good-looking, like Nicholas Tse and Cecilia Cheung. In the afternoon, Xiao Xiao and the boys went to a football game in the factory, and my girlfriend rode me to the brewery to play. The whole city seems to be built on a rolling mountain, the fog is thick, and when it meets the uphill slope, it jumps off the cart, climbs to the top of the slope and then swoops down. On the way, she told me a lot about her middle school past, and she said that no one would dislike Xiao Xiao. We became intimate in a short time, and on the way back both of us had already had a lot of beer and bought scallops and crabs, all alive.
In the evening the boys also went home, they bathed, washed clothes, washed dishes, and were noisy, like a festival. We dipped vegetables and scallop meat in tahini and mustard, freshly fried fish, crispy and wrapped in salt and pepper. Cantonese pop songs were playing on computer speakers, and I listened to them reminisce about the wonderful struggles in the factory area. The dormitory had started heating, and I had to open the windows while eating and drinking, but I still felt very hot. So we took turns going to the downstairs commissary to buy beer, and the beer was poured directly into the plastic bag from the barrel and brought up. I went with Xiao Xiao to walk through the cinder playground, and the air was cold and clean. We each carried a bag of beer, foamed fine white.
Later, everyone drank too much, but they didn't realize it, and everyone spoke in a serious and slow tone, sincerely. Xiao Xiao was worried about the impact of 911 on visas and spent a long time talking about his plans, but because none of these things came to fruition, I didn't remember them all. It was just that the atmosphere at the time was unforgettable. The four of us sat on our knees under a small light bulb. They asked me what I was going to do after Xiao Xiao went to the United States. Such concerns were concrete and tangible, and my depression was wiped out.
I woke up the next day at three o'clock in the afternoon and the room was cleaned up. They went to work, and Xiao Xiao and I decided to go out to see the sea. A fog had just dissipated outside, wet and cold. We slowly rode our bicycles, and halfway saw a sign on the window of a van on the side of the road, which said Laoshan Reservoir, xiaoxiao stopped and asked the driver if he was going to the reservoir.
"You're going to the reservoir?" The driver poked his head out and looked at both of us.
"Yeah. Go around. Xiao Xiao said.
"No one goes to the reservoir when it's cold." The driver said.
"Then what business do you do?" Xiao Xiao said.
"It was past five o'clock when I got there, it was dark and I couldn't see anything. Go back tomorrow morning. The driver said.
"Tomorrow and tomorrow's arrangement." Xiao Xiao said.
"Then I'll go again next time." Wait for the summer to go again. There is nothing to worry about, the reservoir is always there. I'll leave you a contact details, and the next time you come, I'll find you, and I'll take you to some good places that only I know. The driver said, handing each of us a business card. We put away our business cards and continued to ride, turning over a steep slope and suddenly coming to the seaside boardwalk. It was so cold that it was just the two of us walking on the boardwalk, with sea on all sides and white foam on the shore. It was the first time I had seen the sea, and yet I was somehow bored and unmoved.
"Have you been to the reservoir?" I asked Xiao Xiao.
"When I was a kid, my dad would take me to the reservoir for a swim every summer."
"How does it compare to Zixia Lake?"
"The reservoir is much more beautiful than Zixia Lake."
"No, it won't!"
"It used to be a very deep valley, but then it was flooded, and only a small part of the peaks and reefs were exposed, and under the deep water were all mountains and boulders. Can you imagine? ”
"Wow. Isn't that underwater Atlantis? ”
"That's pretty much what it means."
We passed by the commissary and Xiao Xiao stopped to buy cigarettes and a small bag of betel nuts. Then we found a dry, flat place at the end of the reef pile to sit down, smoke, and chew betel nuts. Many people carry buckets of water to pick up kelp and stranded shellfish on mud flats at low tide. A small ray of sunlight suddenly passed through the clouds and landed on the surface of the sea. I felt a little warmer, so I spent a lot of time thinking about the underwater.
In the evening, the four of us met again, found a small restaurant full of people for dinner, Xiao Xiao specially ordered fresh kelp for me to taste, and everything else was quite delicious. After eating, the boys offered to swim in the sea, and when they went to the beach, they felt that the water temperature was too low. We stood on the dark reef for a while, soon forced to retreat by the rapidly rising tide.
After returning from Qingdao, I was depressed for several days, and then I went to the Internet café to find that Wang Lu had left me more than a dozen messages, my mobile phone was in arrears and stopped, and she had not been able to find me. Wang Lu explained that teacher Ou on the radio contacted us, that is, the teacher who shook hands with us at the door of the recording studio and said goodbye. After the award-winning Northwest Boys left, leaving a vacancy for the host of a show, the radio tried several alternatives, all of which were not ideal. Teacher Ou said that during this period, she had thought about me and Wang Lu several times, but the uncertainty of all aspects made her constantly dispel this idea, and finally what prompted her to contact us, I think she must have eliminated many obstacles. Her statement was, "The result of the game was a pity, and after that I thought about it for a long time, and it was still difficult to forget the two of you." Wang Lu repeatedly relayed this sentence to me, thinking that it was the most touching comment she had ever heard, and I thought the same thing.
Teacher Ou ventured to entrust that show to me and Wang Lu. We will be guests, hosting the show from the first week of the new year, premiering every Monday evening and replaying thursday morning. The program is recorded, and Mr. Ou serves as the supervising producer. We'll have to record three episodes before New Year's Day, so we have less than a month to prepare. Xiao Xiao was very excited to hear this news, and that night he returned to the windbreak forest to sort out a box of records left by Zhang Zhou and give them to me. I returned to Shanghai two days later, and this box of records became the original library of our show.
For the next two weeks I stayed in Wang Lu's dormitory, playing and selecting music on a computer drive, deciding on a theme, writing a manuscript, and repeatedly matching time and sound to the second, interspersed with several memorable long conversations. Wang Lu showed strong concentration, and I should have generated the same mental heat to resist the constant self-doubt. There was a cold snap outside, and we leaned on a palm-sized heater, sleepless, and ate a little like a bird.
On the day of the recording, Wang Lu and I went to find Teacher Ou in advance, and her office was on the corner of the sixth floor of the broadcasting building, and there were mountains of materials and documents, each on the verge of collapse. Teacher Ou did not know from which corner to come out to greet us, still wearing work clothes in a shawl, as if he had not rested for a long time, but warmly welcomed us with open arms. Someone like her should be in the wilderness. I couldn't resist walking up quickly and hugging her.
After that, we spent twelve arduous hours in the studio and editing room, completing three recordings, during which Mr. Ou sat on the other side of the glass like last time. During the break, the three of us smoked together on the terrace, and the city below was like a huge and beautiful machine, and the glass of the surrounding office building reflected different levels of light until the street lamp of the viaduct lit up at five o'clock on time. It is hard to imagine that our untrained voices and ideas would spread to such a solid and orderly city.
"We met because of Zhang Zhou's program." Wang Lu said.
"Zhang Zhou—it's not surprising at all to say that." Teacher Ou laughed.
"But we said well, don't be influenced by him in style." I say.
"Haha. That was not what I meant. Zhang Zhou is a loose person, and he is always not seen when he makes an appointment to meet, and working with him is very troublesome, and I can't avoid such people in my life. But he does have fascinating places, and I think he's arguably the one who's creating his own broadcast language, and that I respect him. You are also such people, creating broadcast languages, but you certainly don't realize it yet. Teacher Ou said.
"What is the language of broadcasting you speak?" I asked.
"Radio is a combination of music, vocals and other sounds. The logic of the text is filtered through the sound to form a new language, which has not been standardized so far, so there are no rules to follow. Anyone who uses this language should practice new possibilities. To achieve - actually I don't know what to achieve. Teacher Ou said.
"Touching." I said to Wang Lu.
"I listened to your game recordings, was touched by the language you used unconsciously, and felt the preciousness of youth. So you're going to have your own audience, and they're going to feel the same way I do, and I trust my judgment very much. That's how I found Zhang Zhou, we met in a club in Nanjing, and he was determined to change his life. Teacher Ou said.
"Have you been to the Windbreaks too?!" I cried out.
"Oh, that's the same place as the chess and card room." Teacher Ou said.
"Hahaha." We all laughed.
"You didn't come to the competition to meet Zhang Zhou." Teacher Ou said.
"No, no, no. I didn't think to see him. I said.
"Neither do I." Wang Lu said.
"Zhang Zhou, this person—" Teacher Ou was thinking about what kind of adjective to use.
"To us, he's like a band without a pattern." Wang Lu said this, but I felt that she was describing herself.
It was ten o'clock in the evening when I left the broadcasting building, the cold snap had passed, and the weather had warmed up slightly. Wang Lu and I were exhausted and unable to speak, but our spirits were so excited that we could not be separated from each other like this, so we walked along the viaduct at night toward the city center. The cars on the entire Huaihai Road came to a standstill, and we realized that this was the last day of the year, and everyone was going from all directions to Xintiandi to participate in the Countdown to the New Year. The lights hanging from the trees, the loud noises, the huge neon, the real world so intensely evokes the perception of our bodies. Hungry. Wang Lu and I bought Oden and drinks at a convenience store and sat down on the side of the road to eat.
"I'm not going to Beijing again." Wang Lu told me.
"Why, because of the radio thing?" I was surprised.
"No, no, no. It was the mentor who gave the quota to others, and the things that had been said before suddenly changed. ”
"When did this happen?"
"Shortly after the rematch, I was informed by my mentor that I went to Beijing again, but to no avail. He said that this year's situation is more special, and I hope I can understand that if I can wait until next year, he will definitely keep the quota for me. ”
"What do you think?"
I think, go him.
"Yeah. Go to his. ”
"But when I came back from Beijing, I was depressed for a while, and I didn't reply to your message until I received a call from Teacher Ou."
"I understand. I wondered what happened to Zhang Zhou at that time, and I was determined to change my life. ”
A couple of boys who were going to party came out of the convenience store and stood on the side of the road talking to us, interrupting our conversation. They gave us beer and cigarettes and asked if we wanted to go countdown together. But Wang Lu and I were absent-minded, thinking of other more important things. Wang Lu tucked a headset into my ear.
"Tune it up a little bit, you can't hear it." I say.
Wang Lu turned the volume of the Walkman to the maximum--Zhang Zhou said in the airwaves: "Leave the past in the past, see you next year." ”
On the day of our first program, I returned to Nanjing to handle the withdrawal from school. Given my grades and attendance, I think several of the teachers in the room finally breathed a sigh of relief when I spoke my mind in the office. The next withdrawal procedures went quite smoothly, and I didn't tell my family until it was all done, my parents sighed on the phone, and I thought my mother should still be crying. How things got to this point, I don't really want to explore at all. Finally we all calmed down and discussed the time to go home. That night I went to the windbreak to look for Xiao Xiao. A French-language black-and-white movie was being broadcast in the windbreak, about two boys falling in love with the same girl, the subtitles were matched with a bull's head not on the horse's mouth, but the picture was beautiful, there was a sea, there were stone statues, and later the three of them walked on the hillside, and the tall grass grew to their waists, and was blown upside down by the wind. Xiao Xiao and I ate instant noodles, and because there were no other guests there, we watched the movie twice.
I told Xiao Xiao about dropping out of school, and he made a big fuss and said, "Why do you learn from me?" ”
"Don't be self-righteous."
"Then why did you drop out?"
"Didn't you have to drop out of school at that time?"
"I used to be a very angry person."
"Hahaha."
"What are you laughing at?"
"Because I didn't feel it at all."
"You're careless, what can you feel?"
"I feel that you are gentle and fragile."
"None of them sound like good adjectives." Xiao Xiao thought for a moment and said, "Are you here to say goodbye?" ”
"Sort of." I thought about it too.
"I have a gift for you." Xiao Xiao got up and dragged out a dozen cardboard boxes, which were stuffed with prints of unknown ages, letters, photographs, magazines and books, records and DVDs were all not stuffed in the correct paper sleeve, and these were also chessboards, models, seals, insect specimens, bird bones. Xiao Xiao explained that it was all the guests who stayed here and was never dealt with. He searched for a long time in the relic-like garbage, and finally found a pile of photographs in envelopes. The photo was taken at a winter barbecue party and should be in the wasteland behind the Wutaishan Stadium. It was dark, everyone was dressed a lot, and the charcoal mars was blown around by the wind.
"Here. You see. Xiao Xiao pulled out a photo from inside and handed it to me.
"This is Zhang Zhou. It also snowed that night. He had come from a great distance, had already drunk a lot of wine when he came, did not know what he was particularly happy about, and took off his clothes and ran a long lap in the snow. Xiao Xiao said. The man in the photo, wearing jeans and bare-chested, stands under a lamp. The light formed a halo above his head, covering his entire face.
"How's it going, as you imagined?" Xiao Xiao asked me.
"You mean this man who can't see his face?"
"It's hard for me to describe, but that's exactly what he looks like."
"Hmm. I understand. "I think that's exactly what it is.
A few days later Dad drove me home, and before entering Shanghai, we stopped at the high-speed rest stop to buy water and bread and sit in the car to eat. Dad turned on the radio, and I heard my own voice in the airwaves. My voice was crisp and decisive, completely different from what I had imagined. Neither dad nor I spoke, and heavy trucks on either side drove past us, and it was getting dark, and the headlights shone on the ink-colored holly trees on both sides of the road. I held my bag in my arms, and Zhang Zhou's picture was sandwiched in a book by me and placed in my bag. I was grateful for my father's silence, and I listened to the show with him, and a song by Faye Wong was played in the middle, and my father also hummed softly.
When I returned to the radio station again, Teacher Ou dragged out a cardboard box full of letters from under the table, and the letters inside were written to me and Wang Lu by the audience after the program was broadcast. So we held the cardboard box, found a conference room where no one was sitting, opened the letter face to face, and exchanged with each other, and the atmosphere was both anxious and moving, and it lasted until dusk. The letters are warm and bizarre, recommending new records, telling about love and everyday life, expressing likes and dislikes without hesitation, talking about beauty and sorrow without shame, and inviting us to travel with us. We each replied all night, went to the stage the next day, and received more.
Soon after, Wang Lu and I searched the Internet for feedback about the show and found that someone had made a website for the show. The so-called website actually has only one static page, after clicking into the forum, there is no partition, all posts are stacked on the same page. The founder and administrator of the site is called Xiao Pi, and his head looks like a cartoon squirrel in a leather jacket. Wang Lu and I immediately registered for an ID, I did not use the name in the show, nor did I use my own name, during that time I was keen to give myself different names in different places. And Wang Lu is called Wang Lu wherever she is, I think that's because her original name seems to be fictional. At first, there were few active users in the forum, often only me, Wang Lu and XiaoPi were online at the same time. Pippi gave our show a lot of useful advice and imagined that the forum would become Andy Warhol's factory in the future. Neither Wang Lu nor I had heard of it, and Xiao Pi explained that it was a place to shelter all kinds of people and so on, and turned every day into a party. I hadn't been to any parties, but I thought the idea was moving. After that, the three of us talked more and more in the forum, the later the consumption, the sky always brightened early, and the air outside the window was full of the sweetness of early spring plants. I slept very little, but I was in high spirits. Sometimes I wake up halfway through and then enter the forum to see, it is empty, but all the topics stay when we leave, and not a word has disappeared. So I went back to sleep, feeling the warmth and depth of our friendship.
When the weather was slightly warmer, Wang Lu proposed to go to see Xiao Pi together. We know very little about the real-life. He was in the third grade of the science experimental class at Shanghai University, one year younger than me, jumped two levels in middle school, won the championship in the programming competition, and was an uncommon genius teenager. That's all there is to it. But talking about abstract things is exactly what Wang Lu and I are good at. In fact, we all have expectations for Xiaopi, but we are embarrassed to admit it to each other. But Wang Lu liked Xiao Pi more than I did, and she had obvious reverie about Xiao Pi, and she couldn't help but mention him to me again and again. I think there was some connection between them that I didn't know about, and whatever Wang Lu had lost in Beijing was slowly being repaired.
We met about to meet at the entrance of the Drama Academy, and Xiao Pi got out of a taxi and stood across the road, with short furry hair, wearing a black down jacket and blue sneakers, shyly bowing his head, looking left and right, but his footsteps did not hesitate to come toward us. Wang Lu and I laughed, neither of us thought that Xiao Pi was a girl.
It took us and Little Pi some time to adjust to each other's real-life appearance, but I don't think either of us was disappointed and quickly resumed our unselfish conversation. From time to time, the overly wide down jacket of the small leather gently rubbed me or the king deer, and the misunderstanding and misalignment were insignificant compared to everything that had been established between us. And the small skin is still a small skin, which is very attractive in any case, and I think Wang Lu must have felt it.
We followed Xiao Pi on the light rail to the factory area in Yangpu, and she wanted to take us to the rehearsal room to meet a few friends. After coming out of the light rail station, the cranes are as solemn as giant sculptures on both sides of the unobstructed road. We walked for a long time to the entrance to an anti-aircraft bunker near the chemical plant, the slope painted light green, deep and wide, trucks can drive in, turning a right corner before actually coming underground. On both sides of the corridor are square compartments, uneven in size, light or dark, and are used as staff quarters, Internet cafes, billiard halls, karaoke, VCD rental stalls. The air was damp, the walls were moldy, the ground was oozing water, and every time I thought I had come to the end, I would turn at right angles and come to another area that was exactly the same. There was a garment factory that occupied several rooms, and hundreds of sewing machines worked at the same time, making an almost roaring noise. The operational headquarters was behind the garment factory.
The "Combat Command" is a handwritten sign that pushes open a stone door thirty or forty centimeters thick and is a room of one hundred square meters. In addition to the instruments and speakers, there is a rare PS2 game console with two camp beds, an electric stove and rice cooker, many books and records, a few cases of beer, a few cases of instant noodles and a few cases of toilet paper. The walls are marked with 1960s defense slogans and 21st century record posters. Two boys emerged from behind bundles of wires, both with hair that were neither long nor short, and wearing tight jeans and sneakers. They were very happy to see Xiao Pi, shouting and drawing a few martial arts moves with each other, and making a lot of noise. Xiao Pi introduced them as Jing and Chen Hao.
Kyo studied at Moscow University, but did not return this semester, and his dormitory was burned. The building is too old, and there are a lot of things to worry about every day, he said. He had a girlfriend in Moscow, probably a northerner or a Russian, and he wouldn't talk about it himself, even if he asked him. He didn't plan to go back to Moscow anyway, and he didn't want his diploma. He wanted to go to a warm place, Guangzhou or Southeast Asia. He has a bit of a business acumen and wants to go to the subtropical region to do business. And he was tall and good-looking, and he often encountered good things, and he knew it himself. I envy him, I have no idea about Moscow, but I am always full of imagination about cold places. Chen Hao is much more ordinary, he did not go to art after graduating from the Academy of Fine Arts, but worked in an animation company, the work was boring and repetitive, but he had no complaints about it. Most of the time he was taciturn and even sullen, but I think he was just uninterested in most things. He has studied rock and roll and knows a lot of unpopular knowledge, but every time he suddenly takes off his headphones, he will find that he is actually listening to Zhang Zhenyue. He also has a beautiful little green bird that is walking freely at our feet.
"There are always a lot of people here, friends bring friends. Sometimes I come over and push open the door and no one knows. Xiao Pi said.
"How did you find this place?" Wang Lu was obviously already fascinated by the command.
"We were rehearsing in the factory next door, and I had a relative who worked there and had to come and go according to his time. Later, the security guard in the factory rented an air raid shelter as a second landlord and pulled us over to see. When we first arrived, the whole area here was still empty, this room was the largest, and it still retained the air defense map and materials of the entire area, and after closing the door, it was isolated from the world, and the monthly rent was only three hundred yuan. Kyo said.
"Wow—" We sighed.
"We also did a show here and were reported before we started." Kyo said.
"Suddenly a hundred or so people like you came in, and anyone would report it." Xiao Pi said.
"We are the most harmless kind of people in society." Kyo said.
"If you go all the way from here to the depths, where will you end up?" I asked.
"It is said that the entire underground area of Shanghai is interconnected with each other, and theoretically you can go anywhere you want to go. Some people say that if you go south from here, you will eventually come to Longhua Airport, which is the evacuation route during the war preparation period. Kyo said.
"Don't you want to go there and have a look?" I asked.
"You can't walk anymore as you walk, and the road ahead is sealed with cement." Kyo said.
"In fact, it is almost the same to go deeper, there is nothing unusual." Chen Hao said, stretching out his hand, the bird jumped into the palm of his hand, and then he let the bird stand on Wang Lu's shoulder, and then cut a piece of orange for Wang Lu to hold in his hand and feed it. Then Jing and Chen Hao played the instrument for a while, and Wang Lu also joined their chords, playing on the electronic keyboard, which was surprisingly beautiful. I don't know when Jing and Chen Hao both stopped. So all of us listened motionlessly to the deer playing the piano, and the bird snuggled up to her neck socket and rubbed her face with its furry forehead.
After seeing Xiao Pi, Wang Lu and I went to the headquarters almost every day. During that time, the Japanese boss of Chen Hao's company suddenly ran away, pretending to work, but actually ran from home to the headquarters every day, playing games, teasing birds and stewing meat. Chen Hao's stew is particularly remarkable, sprinkled with a lot of spices, and then put radish, potatoes and cabbage, stewed for a long time, with a large pot of rice, or with the remaining soup to cook noodles, everyone present can get a share. As soon as he opened the pot, the man asleep on the camp bed woke up and casually touched one of the other people's coats to put on. I don't think anyone rehearsed at all, and everyone just spent time together, leaving their selfish distractions behind and spending some frank and uninhibited time together. Occasionally, people flock to the house, usually to the Big Chiming Bell to collect records, to the Pentagon To see a show, or to go to the park to play a gunfight. Every day I leave there, get on the bus, open the window, and take a mint candy, trying to dissipate the smell of smoke from my body as much as possible, but it is useless. The thought of seeing everyone again the next day, still in the same place, couldn't help but feel tired and happy.
"Why do I feel so happy?" Wang Lu often sighed.
"Because you've always loved a group life that's divorced from reality." I think that whether it is Houhai, windbreak, or headquarters, it is self-sufficient and wandering, and there is no fundamental difference for Wang Lu. I also thought that once I fell into this happiness, it seemed very difficult to get rid of it again.
But I did get a crammed rock education at the headquarters, and we sometimes listened to records for hours on end, and someone always chimed in eagerly in the middle—"Shhh, listen here, I think this is a particularly good paragraph"—and we turned up the volume again and again for some detail that we didn't know if it existed, and no matter how noisy it was, no one on the ground would hear it. I began to translate the information on foreign music websites into Chinese, at first just to share it in the forum and the command, and then Wrote a column for audio-visual world magazine under the recommendation of Mr. Ou. I didn't write well, mainly because there was nothing worth talking about, and I was quite ashamed. But at that time, Wang Lu and I were too poor, and although we had radio jobs, we were not regular employees. The remuneration for each episode of the show is fixed, one hundred and twenty-eight yuan, and two people can earn a total of five hundred yuan per month. Anyway, the income from writing allows us to buy a few more records.
We were always talking about money during that time, and everything needed money. One day Chen Hao looked at a mixer in the electronic market below the light rail, and he came back to tell us that he also wanted to equip the microphone, headphones and card holder, and with these devices, he could record his own sample tapes, which cost three thousand yuan. He wanted to go out and earn three thousand yuan, so he grabbed a small skin and went out with him to make money. They made a circle of phone calls to contact friends, and within a few days they had found a job. Two people climbed on the ladder to paint a roadside propaganda mural, five meters high, painted every day from morning to night, and earned five thousand yuan a month later. It was cash and packed in an envelope.
Kyo is determined to go out every day looking for opportunities, but we know that he is just wandering and making new friends, he is good at dealing with all kinds of people, overzealous, easy to get involved in all kinds of nonsense things, fully engaged, and consumes most of his energy. Occasionally, when he made some money, he squandered it without hesitation, buying expensive Japanese jeans and Jordan sneakers, as well as second-hand imported musical instruments. It was all a whim. There were a lot of his stuff in the headquarters that he bought and put there, and soon forgot about it. When he was richest, he bought back a latest model of Apple computer, and we were shocked because he didn't use a computer at all, and the command headquarters didn't have the Internet. We sometimes play games on that computer, but soon no one wants to open it anymore. Later, the chassis became moldy and was used as a coffee table with ashtrays and cups.
The most serious situation is Wang Lu, who is about to graduate, can no longer continue to live in the dormitory, after looking at a few houses, she simply gave up and began to carry some things to the headquarters from time to time like a nesting bird, and unconsciously lived in the headquarters. However, for a while none of us realized that Wang Lu lived in the headquarters, she had almost no necessities of life, did not occupy space, and soon after, she joined a band as a keyboard under the introduction of Jing, and soon became famous for her outstanding technology, and was competed by several bands. So she joined three bands of different styles at the same time, rushed from one rehearsal room to another, and quickly established another kind of life that I did not know and had not participated in. Then Wang Lu followed the band to Beijing, Nanjing and Xi'an to perform, we met in the studio, she often came back from far away, dusty, energetic, in the program to tell the music festival at the foot of the mountain and new friends from all over the world. I and the audience were all fascinated. Our show lasted from episode to episode, miraculously ranking third in the pop music category on the radio's mid-year ratings chart.
Wang Lu and I got a large bonus, which really made us all breathe a sigh of relief, in addition, Teacher Ou also pulled a sponsorship for us to do a meeting with listeners. Wang Lu and I would like to take this opportunity to hold a show. The idea caused a stir at the headquarters, and I think what fascinated most of us was not the show itself, but spending time with friends as extralegals. In the mountains, on the seashore, flying sand and stones, reveling all night.
"Can our show be called Tomorrow's Party?" Wang Lu asked us for advice.
The name immediately impressed everyone, and once the name was available, the originally vague wish took on a concrete shape. Kyo contacted six bands and ran several rehearsal rooms to piece together a complete set of live speaker equipment. Chen Hao and Wang Lu separately from their respective schools' choreography classes to help set up the stage and set up the lights. The most difficult task is to find the right venue. Xiao Pi got a Suzuki pickup truck from home, and then drove us out every day, driving farther and farther. On a few occasions I fell asleep in the back seat of the car, waking up intermittently, with a dry, warm wind pouring in from all around, the boys propped their elbows out of the car window smoking, and the chimneys of the factory in the distance spewing out white smoke. Eventually we found a wetland at the mouth of the Yangtze River, next to the abandoned base of school and agriculture, which contained playgrounds and barracks, and the playground's podium, although the wind and rain were blowing and the wooden structure underneath was loose and festering, was enough to transform it into a stage. And the place is far enough away that it takes a lot of effort to get there, and whatever you do will not be disturbed or restricted.
After the basic problems were solved, Wang Lu and I reported the performance plan to the radio station and contacted the unit belonging to the Xuenong Base to rent a venue. The unit is subordinate to the government department, we through Mr. Ou in the name of the radio to negotiate, did not expect the other party to be extremely enthusiastic, in addition to not charging the venue fee, but also offered to send several workers to help us set the stage, lay circuits and carry garbage. The only requirement is to have them as a collaborator for the event. Wang Lu and I were afraid that they would repent, so we quickly agreed to come down. There were two consecutive tropical storms in August. We went to the base to see the grounds during the torrential rain, and as we feared, the trees were blown down and the playground turned into a swamp. After returning to the headquarters, we survived two frightened nights, and when the typhoon passed, we returned to the site. The site was a wreckage of plants and silt, but the sun was dry and the playground's pond was sparkling. In the early morning of the next day, Chen Hao and Jing entered with the workers carrying trucks to transport equipment.
For the next week, we went out early in the morning, each with cleaning tools, meeting at the headquarters, and then taking a pickup truck to the base together. Finally, even the public toilets in the barracks were washed with disinfectant water. In the evening, after the workers had withdrawn, the boys played football on the cinder playground. Later, the power was turned on, and several halogen headlights banged, emitting white light, and the speaker amplified the sound of the current into mid-air. I guess that's no more than dreaming.
On the evening of the last day before the party, when everything was ready, a few of us left the base and came to the depths of the wetland, where patches of reeds resembled labyrinthine walls, and huge freighters on the river moved silently like prehistoric animals. Jing proposed a barbecue, so he and Chen Hao took out the knife they carried with them and burrowed into the trees, and soon surrounded the open space with stones and branches, and a small bonfire was raised. We didn't actually have any food at all, but the flames jumped so high that I reached out and stroked the heat of the air, feeling out of touch. Then the boys went into the bushes with bb pistols and had a shootout, and Xiao Pi joined in, and Wang Lu and I stayed by the fire to listen to music. They stumbled out of the bushes, tumbling in dead leaves, and we could see God in the distance. Later, the little skin came back to us, with grass and dirt on his hair and clothes. We lit cigarettes from campfires while throwing all sorts of things into the fire, branches, turf, torn paper from notebooks, and carefully observed the shape of the fire and the process of the ashes disappearing. I think we all seem to end something with this, but we can't say what it is. Then we had a deeper conversation, as we usually do in the forum. Until the boys got tired of playing, they dragged out two boxes of cannonballs from the small leather van that did not know how long they had been in. We came to the shallows by the river, and a few times we were about to be blown down by the strong wind. It was dark, and there was one last wisp of pink light. Facing the dark surface of the water, we throw the lit firecrackers into the air and hold the small fireworks in our hands.
Wang Lu said that he should make a wish at this time, and Kyo laughed at her, but in fact, we were all seriously silent for a moment. I don't have any specific desires in my heart, and I want good times to last as long as friendships. At this time, the dull loud noise was accompanied by a powerful air current, and I almost took a small step back, the shallow waves on the surface of the river seemed to be shattered, and the vibration of the eardrums continued for a few seconds, and then the sound of the real world gradually became clear again.
. Who put the cannon? Kyo stumbled to the ground and scolded.
"What a broken cannon this box is. Did I just almost die?! Chen Hao was still in shock.
"It's so easy to die." Xiao Pi said, finding the remains of the explosives. Chen Hao had just ordered a Thunder King. We slowed down and started laughing, and we couldn't stop laughing anyway, laughing until we fell to the ground. In the distance, our speakers played Schumann in the empty playground, both decadent and brilliant. (Excerpt)
(For the full text, please refer to "Yangtze River Literature and Art, Good Novel", No. 3, 2022)
—END—
Excerpted from October, Issue 1, 2022
The original journal is responsible for editing | Jiya
The journal is responsible for editing | Yan Li
"Yangtze River Literature and Art : Good Novel", No. 3, 2022
▲Zhou Jianning |
Zhou Jianning, writer, English literary translator. He has published novels such as "In the Jungle", "Deserted City", and the short story collection "Basic Beauty".