Wang Dongming: My father Wang Guowei

Work in Shanghai

　　My father lived in Shanghai for ten years, mainly helping to compile books, do research, and write books.

　　According to Mr. Jiang Junzhang's recollection, the official name of Shanghai Hartung Garden is "Ai Li Garden", and there is "Cangsheng Zhizhi University" in the park.

　　Mr. Jiang said that at the opening ceremony, Mr. Wang Guowei ranked third, the principal was at the front, followed by important teachers such as the provost and Mr. Wang Guowei. When he was in elementary school, he had long admired the name of Mr. Wang Guowei.

　　He said mr. Wang was a short body with a figure-eight beard on his lips, a small melon-skin hat embellished with a red hat knot, and a long braid dragging behind him. This is his special mark.

　　In the past few years in Shanghai, although life was difficult, my father wrote a lot of works, and gradually attracted the attention of scholars at home and abroad. Foreign scholars also often interacted with their fathers.

　　In 1918, his father refused the invitation of Cai Yuanpei, the president of Peking University, and did not want to teach at Peking University, but instead went to Cangsheng Zhizhi University as a professor of classics. Kyoto University in Japan's intention to recruit his father was also politely dismissed.

　　In April 1919, Luo Zhenyu returned from Japan, and his father met with Bo Xihe (a recognized leader and explorer of Chinese studies in Europe and the United States, and also the initiator of dunhuang treasure theft), Luo Zhenyu, and others in Shanghai, and discussed learning for fun. The Japanese Kano Naoki provided his father with several fragments of Dunhuang scrolls he had recorded from the British Museum in London, which allowed him to publish many articles about Dunhuang fragments. In October of that year, his father began to compile the "Bibliography" for Wucheng Jiang Ruzao, and later wrote articles for the "Zhejiang Tongzhi", and his life was quite busy.

　　In 1921, Peking University again asked Ma Heng to invite his father to become a professor of liberal arts, but somehow his father again refused. Perhaps at that time, his father was still writing the "Bibliophile" for Jiang Ruzao. It was not until the beginning of 1922 that my father agreed to serve as a communication tutor for the Institute of Traditional Chinese Studies at Peking University, and did not have to go to Beijing to take up a post, and could continue to compile and write books in Shanghai.

　　His father's work in compiling the Bibliophile for Jiang Ruzao ended in 1923, and Cangsheng Wise University was dissolved in this year, so my father returned to his hometown for a short stay.

　　Braids two or three things

　　Father's braids are debated endlessly. In Tsinghua Garden, there are two people who know who it is as soon as they see the back, one is of course the father, and the braid is his best symbol. The other was Mr. Liang Qichao, whose shoulders seemed to be slightly high and low, perhaps because he had cut off a kidney.

　　Every morning after washing, his mother brushed his hair. Once, when my mother was finished with things or was upset about something, she muttered to him, "People's braids are all cut, what are you keeping?" His answer was amusing, he said, "Since you have kept it, why cut it?" ”

　　Many people were cut in pigtails by Peking University students, and their fathers often went in and out of Peking University, but they were safe and sound. The reason is probably that he has a non-angry and threatening appearance, and the students know him a lot, and most of them admire him and love him. Moreover, a braid does not represent everything for him, so no one will bear to violate his dignity.

　　Because of his braids, some people compared him to the widows of the time. He was dissatisfied with the various actions of politicians and warlords of the Republic of China government at that time, and it was also true that he missed the Qing Dynasty royal family. As for those who say that he is concerned about and sympathetic to the Restorationists, and who reported news to Luo Zhenyu, the collection of letters published by the Zhonghua Bookstore in Beijing may be glimpsed in one or two (such as the letter to Luo in june and July 1917 in the sixth year of the Republic of China). However, on pages 194 and 195 of the same book, that is, in the letter to Luo on June 30 of the sixth year of the Republic of China, it is stated that Shen Zengzhi (a native of Jiaxing, Zhejiang, a Great Confucian in the late Qing Dynasty, whose father was a teacher of Zeng Guofan) went north to participate in the restoration activities, and his family falsely referred to his father as going to the Soviet Union. With the depth of their personal relationship, Shangjia concealed it, which shows that his father has no connection with Zhang Xun's restoration in the sixth year of the Republic of China. The idea of being enthusiastic or engaged in political activities is even more nonsense.

　　Recently, Luo Zhenyu's eldest grandson, Luo Jizu, strongly emphasized that his father's death was "martyrdom" and "corpse advice". The basis of his remarks is his father's remains, but the remains are forged by Luo Zhenyu, and the basis of the theory is based on nothingness, and the credibility can be imagined. Puyi later also knew that the remains were forgeries, and Luo Jizu quoted Puyi as saying: "The folds are written very neatly, not by Wang Guowei's handwriting." He also added: "That's right." I don't know if he means "word" or "fold" itself.

　　In fact, Luo Zhenyu and his father, in terms of academic achievements, the two are equally famous, but in terms of personality, they have different praises and demeans. Many of them also rely on personal likes and dislikes, open words, or even render them, so that Luo Jizu, as the eldest grandson, had to borrow the common ground between the two and find out the similarities and similarities to compare, so as to defend Naizu.

　　Father has never paid attention to appearance, and when it is cold, he wears a robe, a gray or dark blue blouse, a black sweat towel belt, and a black coat. Xia wears cooked luo (silk fabric specially produced in Zhejiang) or xia cloth long shirt. Except for cloth shoes, no leather shoes were worn. A small melon skin hat on the head, even in the cold winter moon, does not wear a leather hat or velvet hat.

　　At that time, there were many new people in Tsinghua Park, and there were no few suits and shoes, but he would always be this suit. Braids are part of the appearance, and any time since returning to Japan, if he tries to cut them, it will become news, but that is not what he hopes. Judging from his conservative and stubborn personality, it is most natural to respond to change with the same. This may be the meaning of his answer to his mother's words.

　　Leisure life

　　In my father's life, there may not have been two words for entertainment. He had a deep study of Chinese opera, but he had never seen him go to see it. At that time, radio was not yet widespread, and although there was broadcasting in Beijing, at most there was a small box-like ore radio, and it was good to listen to it with headphones. Modern audiovisual entertainment was beyond the reach of the dream of the time.

　　When we lived in the city, the place he went most often was the glass factory. The owners of antique shops and bookstores know him, where he can spend most of the day. Antiques are just a look, and if you come across a book you want in a bookstore, you have to buy it. So as long as his mother knew that he was going to visit the glass factory, she would prepare money for him in advance.

　　After moving to Tsinghua, he rarely went to the city, and the time to go to the bookstore was reduced. I remember once he came back from the city with a smile on his face, and when he went to the room and opened the package, it turned out to be a book, and he told his mother, "What I want is not this book, but an old book sandwiched in the pages." "All I saw was a yellowed page, and he was like a treasure, and I think he must have found the information he needed from this page."

　　When we were young, he hugged us as soon as he was idle, one was older, one came again, and he was not lonely.

　　At Tsinghua, the youngest sixth brother was six or seven years old and had no children to hold, so he had a lion cat with long hair, a large body, and a sympathetic approach. As soon as anyone calls, it jumps on anyone.

　　When my father had time to sit down, he always called out to the cat, and it jumped on his knee. He stroked its long fur with his hands, and the cat purred on his lap. Later, the cat disappeared, and the mother searched all corners of the park, afraid that the students would be caught and dissected, and asked people around to inquire, but there was no trace.

　　The only trip was to visit the West Mountain with tsinghua colleagues. On that day, my father rode a donkey up the mountain, my mother walked up, and my sister and I rode a donkey. I was almost knocked off by a donkey a few times because I couldn't step on my feet, and although I had the donkey on my side, I still came down and walked. My sister had ridden before, had experience, and wasn't afraid at all.

　　What impressed me the most was the Reclining Buddha Temple, where the golden statue of the Buddha Zhiyi (with his hand on his chin) lay horizontally in the main hall, and people seemed too small compared to him. Along the way, adults and adults are together, and we children are in our own team. Father had a good time that day, and other impressions were gone.

　　The younger siblings are at home and always love to go to the front yard to play. Sometimes it was too loud, and the mother, fearing that they would disturb her father, took a ruler and pretended to drive them back to the backyard. But they hid behind their father, who continued to read with a book in one hand and escorted them around the house with the other, which really made the mother laugh.

　　Usually when he was resting, a few of us small, often surrounded him and asked him to recite poems to us. At that time, we didn't know how to chant, only said it was singing, and he wasn't afraid to be annoyed. Sometimes I ask him to paint people, but in fact he can't paint, he will only draw an old man with a staff or a flat boat, and we will be satisfied. Looking back, the old children were already full of white hair.

　　Aftermath of my father

　　This suicide note was written the night before my father sank himself (the third day of the fifth month of the lunar calendar). According to his mother, he slept soundly that night, and there was nothing unusual, which showed that he was very calm and determined to die early.

　　According to my father's wishes, we did not ask the feng shui master to choose a tomb, nor did we choose an "auspicious day", so we bought a piece of land in seven rooms outside Tsinghua to bury my father. The tomb was made by a clay smith from Qinghua, and a stele was erected with the title of "Wang Zhongyugong" (王忠慤公), and trees were planted on all four sides of the cemetery.

　　"Wang Zhongyu Gong" has a history. After his father's death, Mr. Luo Zhenyu sent a sealed copy of the so-called father's "testament" to the emperor, full of the mood of an orphan and a wicked son. Emperor Xuantong was greatly moved by the reading, and after consulting with his masters, he issued a "shangyi" to add "loyalty" to his father, and sent PeiZi Puxin to DianMu to enjoy the two thousand yuan of the Dhara Sutra.

　　The "testament" was written by Mr. Luo's fourth son in imitation of his father's handwriting. Why did Mr. Luo Zhenyu do this? I think I want to use my father's "loyalty to the qing room" to flaunt myself!

　　Over the years, I have tried to cut and read as much information as I can about my father. The longer the time goes on, the more deeply I feel my feelings and guilt for my father, just like my father's words: "I hate the years and can't stay, and I hate the years that go." (Butterfly Loves Flowers No. 5)

　　The third brother said that when he thought of his father's life, he "often used a heavy heart and a last resort to ink to reveal the mood of the universe, the drifting of life, the unfounded mood of sorrow and joy, that is, the inevitable tragedy", and he would always cry.

Source: Contemporary Literature Collection, Issue 10, 2013