Text/Jiang Shaojie
The most beautiful music for the soul is kindness.
--Romain Roland
At noon on the twenty-eighth day of the lunar month, the extreme fatigue of working overtime for more than a month was dispelled by the joy of completing the work. I suddenly felt the joyful festive atmosphere from the lanterns and crowds around me, and my footsteps became lighter.
At the women's clothing counter in the department store, the variety of goods is dizzying. I stood in front of a light purple down jacket.
What a beautiful purple color, more introverted than the warm red, more graceful than the calm blue, the mother always affectionately called it "maran flower color". Oh, it is the ma lan flower that opened at the door of my partner's house when I was a child: like a fairy falling into the ordinary world with the warm wind, shining in the blue-gray countryside of the seventies, like a beautiful and fragrant dream, just like a cheerful and wonderful music, becoming the most beautiful flower color in the depths of my memory.
The purple in front of you is lighter than the maran flower, and it is a light purple. I remember when I was young, I had the opportunity to get a beautiful cotton jacket of this color. Its short body, asymmetrical round neck like a cluster of lotus leaves, underneath the slender waist. "Shao Jie, this dress is the best suit for you!" The third aunt, who is nearly a flower armour, has a good aesthetic vision, and she can tailor beautiful fashion for her mother-in-law when she is a teenager.
"Yeah, it's so pretty!" My heart was pounding. I think of the dreamlike violets of the masters of literature and fine arts, swaying in the evening wind: tall and erect branches stringing purple flowers, one flower, one cluster, one string, large or small, or looming or appearing, or budding or showing their beauty. They are opened out of the courtyard window, and the columns stretch along the mountain, and the mysterious breath of life is overwhelming and beautiful. What's even more fantastic is that the fragrance emitted by one flower can fill the whole house, comparing the fragrance of roses and carnations. The wind blows, they dance happily in the green leaves, the rich and sweet fragrance passes through the windows, through the courtyard, sweetens the dreams of adults and children; through the water, through the treetops, warms the wilderness mountains, and the earth smiles... It is a symbol of beauty and love, a representative of simplicity and virtue, and a flower in the dream of a pure girl. I put on light purple and spun around in front of the mirror: Is this me? Pretty, right?
"What's so bad about being pretty? Fashionable girls on the streets of Dalian wear this way. If I had been young, I would have worn it. But where did we go to buy such beautiful clothes then? The third aunt said urgently. I eventually chose another one: pale pink, which looks more generous and normal.
See you light purple again today. Put it on and look at it repeatedly in front of the mirror. More than thirty years have passed, the thin waist of one foot nine has long gone with the wind, and the purple cotton jacket does not know whether it is still there.
"Big sister, you look so good in it, you look so young!" The saleswoman girl looked quite sincere. I saw our young mother-in-law and my radiant mother taking pictures by the sea at our wedding, when the purple coat set them off in an elegant and generous way. I chose light purple and bought two other styles of maran.
The mother didn't want to take it off when she put on the light purple one, until the sisters praised her for looking better in marlane. The mother-in-law smiled brightly when she put on the maran-colored face, and even said that she didn't need to try on light purple anymore. I quickly went back and bought another malan flower color, and as in previous years, I entrusted my eldest sister to carry it to Aunt Zi, and Aunt Zi was also fascinated at first sight. Hey, purple, turned out to be a favorite color among the women of the family.
The purple aunt in memory often wears a purple top. She was slender and feminine, spoke softly, and always had a smile on her face. She cooks a good meal, the public guest meal in her village is arranged in her house all year round, and when there is a major event in our family, she often comes to cook. Ordinary ingredients, in her hands, quickly changed into patterns, became "full of color and flavor", and became one of the "four one six" or "four two eight", which made the guests marvel. She was generous and generous, carrying food almost every time, and often said: Sister, I pity him (her)... At that time, she was a big village, growing rice, had a side business, and was richer.
More than forty years ago, our poor family was building a new house. When the masters wanted to put on the beams, they found that the old beams removed from the old house were not long enough. A few miles away, Aunt Zi was very anxious to hear the letter, and she asked her uncle to immediately put down the stout poplar in front of the house and send it to my house with the poisonous sun at noon on the sixth month of the lunar calendar. There is a long section of dam road between the two villages that can only be crossed by one person, with potholes and twists and turns. That day when the typhoon blew, the uncle pushed the trolley and hurriedly walked on the dam, and The purple aunt pulled the rope in front. Luxi is a rushing deep river, and on the east side of the road is a purple locust bush that swings wildly on the path. With a gust of wind, the trunk rolls down the river! The upper beam is important, and it cannot be nested. My uncle simply went into the water, pushed the trunk of the tree up the river, and swam all the way to our house...
Our sisters, who were born in the 1960s, are still gray-headed during the flower season: the village is poor; the family is thin; and the parents are busy at work. Before Aunt Zi made a matchmaker for the eldest sister, the advanced county cut the fashionable fabric and asked the mother to spend manual money to make a decent suit for the eldest sister: "Sister, now I am in season with this kind of suit, and those beautiful big girls and little daughters-in-law in the village have them." My nephew's own conditions are one of the best, and it will definitely look better when I wear it..."
The photo of Aunt Zi and her mother when she was young has fascinated our sisters for many years: two beautiful girls who are as tender as water stand hand in hand, and both tie a strand of hair with a rope on the side of the head to smooth down - the most popular hairstyle of the year. At that time, Aunt Zi and her mother had beautiful white skin and innocent angel faces. Time has traveled mercilessly for more than sixty years, and Aunt Zi is still gentle as a jade, kind hearted, younger and healthier than her peers.
At the beginning of last year, Aunt Zi sent her mother buns, lanterns, lotus seeds, bean dumplings and other delicacies that she was good at, and casually talked about an old story: Sister, do you remember that at the end of the year, you saw me at the Fukuyama grand gathering, sitting on the ground crying? I rushed to the market to sell rice, sold it for forty dollars, and was stolen by thieves —forty dollars at that time was more than expensive! You didn't say anything at the time, just told me to go home quickly. That night, you and your eldest brother came to the door and sent me forty yuan, and the family had a good year...
My mother had long forgotten about it. All she remembers is that she lost her mother three days after she was born. Aunt Zi, who was nursing her two-year-old child, sprouted kindness and took her hungry and crying into her arms, with a gentle smile on her face, words of pity in her mouth, and generously offering sweet milk. Aunt Purple's arm bend is the cradle of her childhood; Aunt Purple's gentle whispers are the lullabies of her childhood. She was carefully nurtured by Aunt Zi until she was four years old, and she was affectionately loved until she was four years old. In every important part of her life journey, there is the selfless love of Aunt Zi.
Aunt Zi is her mother's great aunt. My mother was born in 1942, when the haze of war, poverty and disease was hanging over the land of Jiaodong and bringing disaster to the children. Half a year before her mother was born, Aunt Zi had lost her four-month-old beloved son. Three years later, she lost her toddler daughter. When my mother was more than one year old, she had a big sore on her body that did not heal for a long time; she did not think about eating, and she was as thin as a sick cat. When taking a family portrait, her aunt forbade her to play: sooner or later, this child will be a dead child! Aunt Zi wanted to take her to Dalian for treatment.
When the Japanese managed boats to Dalian, they did not allow children with signs of infectious diseases to take them. Before getting on the boat, Aunt Zi wrapped her in several layers with a tablecloth and carefully hid her in her luggage. The Japanese swiped with a bayonet: What is this? Aunt Zi's heart fluttered: "This is my child, she just fell asleep, you must not move her!" She quickly wrapped the tablecloth tightly, for fear that they would carry her into the sea as a dead child. Went to the clinic in Dalian for treatment, went there twice, and when she went for the third time, she cried and refused to enter the door, and Aunt Zi was coaxed... The mother grew up in the loving sunshine of Aunt Zi, and grew up with her eldest daughter, Aunt Zi, and grew up to be a sunshine girl loved by everyone.
My mother still remembers that in the year when the natural disaster was the heaviest, hunger was like an unstoppable cold wave, and it slammed into them with its head covered, hitting them dizzy and dizzy, just wanting to shrink into a ball. One day, she went with Aunt Zi to the mountains to dig wild vegetables. Waves of people digging wild vegetables. Aunt Purple dug up the "lump of earth sores"—a dandelion-like umbrella-shaped wild vegetable with feathered, split leaves green on the front and off-white on the reverse.
No one used to pick it, which made it often fatter. The warm wind blows over and over again, and the head-shaped inflorescences in the green leaf bushes give rise to a large number of flower stems, all long, open like loose umbrella rooms, and a small purple flower will bloom at the top of each flower stem, with petals as slender as cattle hair, and the wisps are tightly wrapped in a green and furry base, like spring light. One month, two months... Time slowly passed, the flowers slowly bloomed from top to bottom, and the small purple flowers gently swayed on the branches of the flowers, as if pouring out their infinite affection for the world, and the vast earth suddenly became radiant and mysterious. They slowly turned into purple pompoms, shining like purple lanterns, and seemed to never wither. At this time, Aunt Purple will insert it into her hair...
"Big Mom, can this dish be dug?" In her memory, it was a wild vegetable that even pigs would not eat, and the name "soil sore lump" always reminded her of the huge sores that could not be healed, although her heart was always shaking when she saw purple flowers. "Children, the elders have eaten it. Let's go and use boiling water, soak it for another day or two, and the bitter taste will be removed..."
When she was young and yellow, she sat on the passenger ship to Dalian with Aunt Zi. The early rise and seasickness of the boat made them feel uncomfortable at the moment, and they were staring in confusion and drowsiness. "I'm so hungry I can't stand it!" A scrawny young man passed through the crowd, staggering and crying out for help. When she was panicked and overwhelmed, Aunt Zi, who was still squinting, quickly took out a complete big potato noodle bun from the bag and handed it to the young man, and then brought water, sending a pitiful look and words of concern.
"She's so kind!" A strange light flashed in front of her mother, and she felt a warm current stirring in her heart. On the first day, Aunt Zi carefully made six rare steamed buns with long-cherished flour and sweet potato noodles. They only tasted it, but they didn't want to eat more, it was a gift to the relatives of the strong men working in Dalian- like their families, they usually only ate coarse grains mixed with wild vegetables, leaves, and wheat bran, and often did not have enough to eat...
Back in the 1930s, Aunt Zi, who was in the flower season, enjoyed the reputation of the most beautiful girl in the eight villages. The goose egg face and large eyes decorate her flower appearance and moon appearance, and the laughter reveals her sunny personality. Like a beautiful cluster of violet flowers blooming in the country garden, attracted by the fragrance of flowers, the crowd of people entering the courtyard as a matchmaker is endless. The sister-in-law at the door came to the door to mention the relatives: the cousin of his second father's family, who was a well-known chef in a good restaurant on Dalian Street. He was handsome, capable, and family-friendly.
Her parents hated his brothers, fearing that she would be guilty of marrying in the past, and refused to agree to the marriage. A rich man came from afar, patting his chest and vowing: I promise her to enjoy the glory and wealth for the rest of her life! Parents are assured that the rich man's family is rich and powerful, and likes a generous bride price.
My sister-in-law advised: It is better to marry a rich man than to marry my cousin—the rich man is nearly forty years old and has a big wife in the family. She told her cousin's story.
Since he was thirteen years old, he has been apprenticed alone in a restaurant on Yantai Street. He had to get up very early every day to go to the beach to fetch boiled salt. In winter, when the sky was just dark, he walked alone on the street carrying a flat burden, and as soon as his frozen feet walked, a pool of blood came out. The sea was windy, and the icy water soon soaked his thin cotton shoes, freezing to the bone, and he subconsciously retreated. The gray sea makes a sighing sound, like the heavy sighs of parents in a poor old home - the war is continuous, the taxes are heavy, and it is getting more and more difficult for the father to support the family! The expectant eyes of his relatives once again appeared in front of him. He shivered, shook his spirits, and gritted his teeth to pick up the water back to the hotel. Bitter people, the sky is not the limit. He finally survived to the point of discipleship – he could make money! Staying up until I can go to the stove alone, the good days for the whole family are slowly coming. Every year at the end of the year, he always hired a donkey and drove two baskets of delicious food and good use to his hometown. A fushan gate building owner ate his own meal on Yantai Street, personally boarded the door of his hometown with a heavy gift, and begged his father to let him go to dalian street to become a chef in a big restaurant he opened on Dalian Street.
Fukuyama's business is getting more and more prosperous, the number of transactions in the whole street is the best in his family, and the other bosses are red-eyed. They hired some hooligans to come and look for trouble: buy four or two meats, one can't be more, one can't be less, otherwise they will smash the field. The owner broke out in a cold sweat. He came over from outside and said, "There are several kinds of meat, which one do you choose?" "Just want this piece!" He cut a piece of pork belly at their request and threw it on the weighing plate. The "rogue" instantly obeyed: people are really capable! After he established a firm foothold in Dalian, he successively brought his brothers to develop...
On a noisy rainy day, purple cockscomb flowers bloom proudly on her doorstep, and the wedding of her brother and sister-in-law is taking place. The sloping rain could not stop the joy of the scream, and the noisy gongs and drums showed the sanctity and inviolability of marriage. That evening, her parents confirmed that their daughter was missing.
That morning, with the cooperation of his cousin, he took advantage of the chaos in the crowd that had always come and gone. As soon as she left her village, she sat in a flower palanquin to welcome her relatives, and hurriedly put on her own hand-embroidered bridal tunic and covered her head with a red hijab. She sat in the car a little nervous, but couldn't help but laugh. As soon as she got out of the palanquin, she put on a red flower, and in the witness of the full hall of relatives, she worshiped the heavens and the earth with him; the second worshiped the high church; the husband and wife worshipped; and the money entered the cave room.
The next day, when the father and the rich man arrived, they found that the wood had become a boat, and the brothers of his family were all heroic and angry. Her words came through the purple-red moon flowers: "I would like to eat chaff here!" "The parents had no choice but to return the bride price and calm down.
The men have been selling coolies in Dalian for many years, and in the old family, she obeys the command of her in-laws, sleeps at night, and leads the concubines to do the work on the mountain and at home without complaint, tirelessly. She does not pick and choose, often taking the most tired and heaviest work to herself, and she can pick up and put down all kinds of work. As the eldest sister-in-law, she does not argue or grab interests in the face of interests, regards wealth and interests very lightly, and attaches great importance to family affection and harmony. She assisted her in-laws to build three sets of spacious and tall green tile houses, and enthusiastically helped the three young uncles to marry a good daughter-in-law who was satisfactory.
The poor eldest sister has been leading her nephews to live in her in-laws' house for many years, and the concubines have a bad word about this. She was considerate and tolerant of their family. She supported her husband in bringing her older nephew to Dalian for apprenticeship, so that the children could also learn their craft. The second uncle is young and vigorous, and he is not accustomed to the Japanese flaunting their military might in Chinese territory. Once, more than two dozen Japanese soldiers gathered together with guns and tried to capture him alive. With a good martial art, he desperately broke through the siege and fled to the hotel. The husband quickly led all his relatives to flee back to their hometown by boat overnight, and the thriving career came to an abrupt end, and in a hurry, he also left valuables. She explicitly supported her husband's decision: "The treasure goes to the well-being of the people. Family peace, better than anything! She praised the national integrity of her relatives, took the lead in reducing clothing and food, and embroidered flowers to make money.
Nine years later, he returned to Dalian. With good cooking skills and good character, he soon became a head chef at golden state air force school. When she and her children first moved to Golden State, they lived in a rural rent. That night, the custodian of the canteen carried a bag of fine rice to the past, when the materials were scarce and the rice was very expensive. He said solemnly: "How you carry it, you can carry it back!" She praised her husband's actions and took pride in her life that her husband was not greedy or took advantage of the public family. She supported her husband in giving up the opportunity to get a job title and a salary increase to a more difficult colleague...
In my memory, when I was old, my grandmother still had a smile and was as loving as a flower. On that occasion, I went with my mother to visit her, and found that she had given the tall north house she had lived in all her life to her brother-in-law's family, and lived with her grandfather in the lower East Wing. The afternoon sun came straight in, and it was a bit hot. She sat on the old stool in her old gray coat, talking to us with a spring breeze, and her soft face smiled into a flower, making the small room with the four walls of the family come alive.
"She's so beautiful!" I've never seen such a good-looking old man! "I was amazed in my heart. After she praised her little granddaughter's understanding, she also praised the filial piety of her little aunt and brother-in-law, and the laughter was so natural and so dashing. "Little boy, what are you going to eat?" She opened the drawer and, with a happy face, took out two rare new walnuts and a few peanuts and put them in my cloth pocket. My heart was filled with sweetness and gratitude—the greatest gain I've had in my succession of grandmothers. On that day, the purple emeralds and sunflowers at the entrance of her house gently swayed in the old washbasin and bloomed brilliantly in the sun. Grandma also likes purple, right? In the 1980s, there were few purple jadeites, but her family had three large basins of purple jadeites and purple sunflowers.
The purple emerald and the sunflower swayed in my heart for forty years. In the shadow of the flowers, the big grandmother smiled and walked towards me, she was still so strong and open-minded. The golden sunset sprinkled on her gray hair, on her bronze cheeks, on her half-worn coat, shining with a strange brilliance, and the whole courtyard was illuminated. She smiled and said to me: Child, with sunshine in your heart, there is no obstacle in this world that cannot be passed. In life, the amount of wealth and the size of power are not a sign of your success. For fame and fortune, you can care less about it. But you have to know how to love, to love with your heart: to love your loved ones; to love those around you who need love; to love those who deserve our love...
The violet in the evening wind suddenly blooms in the human world, and gradually disappears, silently... Distant violet, you are born beautiful, leisurely spitting, pulse with affection; you are beautiful and narcissistic, you do not apply powder in your life, simple and unpretentious, silent dedication; you and people only speak warmly, do not say sadness; you are beautiful all your life, love for a lifetime!
Perhaps, the withering of the flowers is the real bloom, because the flowers blossom and give thanks, and the prosperity of life is continued. Mother and Aunt Zi inherited the virtues of the Great Grandmother. Aunt Zi often said: Ji De does not need to be seen, and doing good deeds has its own heavenly knowledge. Mother often said: Give gifts to others every day - tolerance... Throughout their lives, they have accumulated virtue and good deeds, and they are generous to others, and it is the pleasure of their lives to benefit others.
In the bottom of their hearts, there must be flowers of love blooming all year round, endlessly, burning and burning. In my heart, they are the most beautiful violets in the evening wind, enduring suffering and tiredness alone all their lives, and only pouring happiness and joy into us.
Perhaps, every woman has flowers in her heart, which are their dreams of life that have sprouted since they were girls under the spring water of love and kindness of their relatives. It has a romantic dream that has not been polluted by the world, and has the noble elegance of dedicating all its love, just like the violet gently swaying in the evening wind, with quiet beauty, quiet incense, deep love, trying to sprinkle true love and beauty all over the world. No matter how long and arduous the journey of life is, no matter how cruel and ruthless the wind and rain tests they encounter, they will water the flowers with the fountain of kindness, let it bloom leisurely in the depths of the soul, shine brightly, and silently spit out the fragrance.
With the company and protection of the fragrance of flowers, they will exhaust the good time of their lives, sprinkle beauty and love in all directions of the world, and decorate the lives of the people around them with their own simplicity and virtue. Do your best to dress up the dreams of lovers, the elderly, children and the weak.
(Image from the Internet)
Sponsored by the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Society, Contemporary Prose is a bimonthly prose journal, which mainly publishes the works of members of the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association, and welcomes Shandong prose writers to apply to join the Shandong Provincial Prose Association. The Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association holds various prose activities throughout the year to provide book publishing services for writers. Contact number: 13653164811, 18765312921, 18653131587; submission email: [email protected]
One Point Number Contemporary Prose