In an old alley on Jiangsu Road in Shanghai, the winter of 1997 brought a biting cold wind and an indescribable suspense. Here, the door of Lao Zhang Zijing's small shop is always open, no matter how windy or rainy. This old man, every day, stood there, as if waiting for something, or someone. The neighbors in the alley all know that Lao Zhang's sister is the famous writer Zhang Ailing, but they can only guess why he insists on opening the door wide.
Old Zhang Zijing's life is full of ordinariness day after day. His communication with his neighbors, the curiosity of the children, and even Lao Li's small talk have all become part of his life. However, there is much more to the story behind the scenes. His sister, Zhang Ailing, died in a foreign land far away in the United States, and the news was like a bombshell, shaking the entire literary world and deeply touching Lao Zhang's heart.
The reason why Lao Zhang Zijing chose to open the door is not only to welcome the warmth of the neighborhood, but also to seek a different ending from his sister. He doesn't want to repeat the mistake of Zhang Ailing's lonely old age, and he doesn't want his life to be swallowed up by loneliness and forgetfulness. Every day, in his own way, he tells a story about family, memory and time.
Memories of the alleys in winter
In Shanghai in 1997, the cold wind was bitter, and the alleys of Jiangsu Road were filled with the residual heat after the Spring Festival. In the corner of the alley, a dim lantern hung at the door of Lao Zhang Zijing's shop, as if waiting alone in the dark. Whenever someone passed by, he would whisper, "The weather is nice today, isn't it?" and the neighbors responded, some in a hurry, some stopping to chat.
"Uncle Zhang, did you open the door so early?" an old man on crutches walked slowly and looked at Zhang Zijing's storefront.
"Yes, Lao Li, you came out so early today. Old Zhang Zijing replied with a smile, with a hint of expectation flashing in his eyes.
"I heard that your sister is a great writer, is it true?" asked Lao Li curiously.
"Oh, that's all in the past. Old Zhang Zijing said lightly, and then changed the subject, "Where are you going today?"
Their conversation was interrupted by a gust of cold wind, and Lao Li nodded and continued to walk slowly. Lao Zhang watched Lao Li leave, and then returned to his small shop. The interior of the store is simple, with a few wooden chairs, an old table, and a few calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls that have been yellowed. Old Zhang Zijing picked up a broom and began to clean the store, moving slowly and orderly.
In the afternoon, the sun shines through the narrow alleys, bringing a touch of warmth to this cold winter day. At the door of the small shop, several children sat around, and they looked at Lao Zhang Zijing curiously.
"Uncle Zhang, can we take a look at your book?" asked a little girl.
"Absolutely, kids. Old Zhang Zijing smiled, took an old book from the shelf on the side, and handed it to the children.
The children cheered, sat around old Zhang Zijing, and flipped through the yellowed book. Old Zhang Zijing looked at the children with a satisfied smile on his face.
At night, the lights in the alley gradually turned on, and old Zhang Zijing closed the door of the store and walked home alone. His back looked a little lonely in the dim streetlight, but his steps were still firm. On the way, occasionally, neighbors greeted him, and old Zhang Zijing always returned with a friendly smile.
On this day, as usual, it is as ordinary, but in this ordinary, Lao Zhang Zijing's life has an unknown color. His daily life, like the alley on Jiangsu Road, seems ordinary, but hides an untold story.
The past and changes of the Zhang family
The luxurious bungalow of the Zhang family was once a symbol of prominence. Magnificent and sophisticated, the façade is decorated with intricate reliefs and elaborate openwork balconies, while the interior is lavishly furnished and famously painted, revealing wealth and taste in every corner. Zhang Ailing and Zhang Zijing's childhood, in such an environment, naturally came to stretch out their hands for clothes and open their mouths for food.
In one corner of the mansion, Zhang Zijing sat on a delicate rosewood chair, with an open picture book in front of him. Her gaze was not on the page, but out of the window from time to time, where she was familiar with the courtyard, where the busy figures of servants were shuttling among the flowers. Her thoughts seemed to be far away, and no one could understand the loneliness and confusion in her heart.
At this time, Zhang Ailing walked over, holding a freshly completed manuscript in her hand. "Zijing, what are you thinking?" she asked softly, with her sister's characteristic concern on her face.
Zhang Zijing shook her head slightly, avoiding talking about the sorrow in her heart: "It's nothing, sister, how is your story written?"
Zhang Ailing smiled: "It's okay, but I care more about you." She sat next to her sister, her hand gently brushing Zhang Zijing's hair.
The conversation between the two sisters is interrupted by a sudden commotion. Outside the door came the panicked voices of the servants, discussing something important. Zhang Zijing stood up and walked to the window, only to see a group of people gathered at the gate, in the middle was their father Zhang Tingzhong, and beside him were some strange men, who looked like creditors. Zhang Tingzhong's face was pale and his expression was flustered.
"My father was arguing with the creditor again. Zhang Zijing said softly, with a hint of helplessness in his eyes.
Zhang Ailing also walked to the window, she looked at the once majestic father, but now he was in an embarrassment due to financial problems. "Our home is slowly crumbling. She whispered, with a hint of sadness in her voice.
The atmosphere in the room was suddenly heavy. Zhang Zijing returned to her seat and picked up the book, as if trying to escape reality by reading. Zhang Ailing sat there, her hands clasped and her eyes firm, as if she was thinking about the way out in the future.
This day was a turning point for the Zhang family. The father's ruined behavior made the family fall into the middle of the road an indisputable fact, and the mother's departure and the arrival of the stepmother Sun Yongfan brought new changes to the family. The two sisters face unprecedented challenges as they must find their own way to survive, break free from their father's influence, and redefine their lives.
Zhang Zijing: Both gentle and weak
In the living room of the Zhang family on a hot summer afternoon, sunlight shines through the half-drawn curtains and onto the classical furniture, and the golden light is intertwined with the wood color. Zhang Zijing sat on a mahogany chair, holding a faded book of poetry in his hand, his eyes gentle and focused. His hair is meticulously combed and he wears a simple but neat white shirt, which forms a harmonious picture with the classical atmosphere of the home.
Zhang Ailing stood in front of the bookshelf, flipping through a heavy novel in her hand, her brows furrowed slightly. She was wearing a well-tailored cheongsam, and the purple pattern reflected her unique temperament. She occasionally looked up and looked at Zhang Zijing with an almost scrutinizing look.
"Zijing, are you reading those boring poems again?" Zhang Ailing's voice carried a hint of mockery.
Zhang Zijing raised her head and replied with a smile: "Sister, these poems are very beautiful." ”
Zhang Ailing snorted contemptuously: "Beauty, you should read some more in-depth books." ”
Zhang Zijing didn't respond, just lowered her head and continued reading. This kind of dialogue has become the norm in the Zhang family, and Zhang Ailing is always dismissive of his choice, while Zhang Zijing is Xi to silence. In such an atmosphere, Zhang Zijing's gentleness and kindness seem to be even more powerless, in stark contrast to Zhang Ailing.
Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps outside the door. It was their father, Mr. Zhang. As soon as he entered, the anger on his face was palpable. His steps were heavy, and he seemed to stir the air through the room along the way. Zhang Ailing immediately put away the book, and her expression became serious.
"It's another day without results, and you two know all day reading these useless things!" Mr. Zhang's voice was full of anger.
Zhang Zijing silently closed the poetry book and lowered his head. And Zhang Ailing looked directly at her father, with an indescribable emotion in her eyes. In this family, everyone has their own way of survival. Zhang Ailing coped with her sharpness and independence, while Zhang Zijing chose silence and patience.
Immediately after, stepmom walked in, her steps light and a sly smile on her face. She looked at Mr. Zhang, as if waiting for something. The presence of the stepmom always makes the atmosphere even more tense. She often sows discord in front of Mr. Zhang, who seems to be unaware of this.
Zhang Zijing felt the tension in the room, and he slowly stood up, ready to leave this suffocating space. But the moment he got up, Zhang Ailing's gaze fell on him, it was a deep gaze, as if to say: "Don't be defeated by all this." ”
Zhang Zijing nodded slightly, and there was a hint of firmness in his eyes. He knows that, despite his mild personality, that doesn't mean he doesn't have his own persistence. In this family full of strife and calculation, Zhang Zijing maintains his kindness and tenacity in his way.
Broken sibling relationship
As time passed, the relationship between Zhang Ailing and her younger brother Zhang Zijing became more complex and delicate. What was once intimacy is gradually being replaced by alienation and misunderstanding. Eileen Chang, the talented writer, saw disappointment and dissatisfaction in her eyes become more and more apparent. In her opinion, her brother's life choices and behaviors not only failed to get rid of the shadow of the family, but deepened the insurmountable gap.
At a chance family gathering, the tension between Eileen Chang and Zijing reached its climax. At the party, Zhang Zijing tried to show his sister his latest business plan, hoping to get her approval and support. He carefully unfolded the plan, his eyes glinting with anticipation. However, Zhang Ailing's reaction was surprisingly cold, she just glanced at the plan, and then said lightly: "What can this change?"
Zhang Zijing's face sank, he clenched the document in his hand, and his voice trembled a little: "I'm at least trying, I don't want to be bound by the family's past anymore." ”
Zhang Ailing shook her head, revealing a hint of helplessness in her tone: "I'm afraid your efforts are just in vain." ”
This conversation is like opening Pandora's box, and the misunderstandings and contradictions that have accumulated between the two seem to be on the verge of breaking out. Zhang Zijing's eyes were full of loss and anger, while Zhang Ailing was deeply helpless and sad. At this moment, the rift between them became more obvious.
In the days that followed, Zhang Zijing's life seemed to become more and more difficult. His entrepreneurial journey was full of challenges, failures and setbacks. He began to be more and more alone, immersed in his own world, and less and less connected to the outside world. Under the double pressure of great social changes and family influences, he felt lonely and helpless like never before.
And Zhang Ailing, despite her great achievements in literature, has never been able to get rid of her concern and guilt for her younger brother deep down. She often recalls the old days with her brother in the dead of night, those laughter and arguments, and now only endless regrets. In her works, from time to time, you can glimpse reflections on family tragedy and mourning for her brother's fate.
In the end, Zhang Zijing's life ended in tragedy, he could neither get rid of the shadow of his family, nor gain a firm foothold in the torrent of society. His loneliness and struggle became an inescapable theme in his life. And Zhang Ailing, in the face of the death of her younger brother, the rift in her heart became more and more profound. She has left a glorious footprint in the temple of literature, but in the depths of her heart, she has forever left a hole that cannot be healed. The story of the two finally came to an end in incomprehension and regret.
Resources:
- Biography of Eileen Chang
- Zhang Zijing's memoirs
- Collection of Literary Criticism