Memory | Xiao Fuxing: Former House Hutong Xia Yi ——— Mr. Sun Daolin Centennial

Seeing the news of Wang Wenjuan's passing away, I couldn't help but think of Mr. Sun Daolin, remembered that this year is the centenary of Mr. Sun Daolin's birth, and also remembered the past of my interaction with Mr. Sun Daolin.

Sun Daolin and Wang Wenjuan

　　On the west side of Beijing's Beichang Street, there are Qianzhai Hutong and Houzhai Hutong. These are two hutongs that only existed in the Qing Dynasty, originally a large mansion door of an official eunuch's family, the front mansion and the back mansion each opened a gate, the people in front of the door came and went, there were more people walking, there was a road, there was a road, and gradually formed two hutongs. The former house hutong is in the south, the back house hutong is in the north, the east is adjacent to the Forbidden City, the west is adjacent to The South China Sea, the north is adjacent to the North Sea, all within easy reach, truly belonging to the imperial city under the eyelids, from ancient times to the present day are very quiet, with some noisy Internet red hutongs and messy dilapidated alleys, not the same day. Comparatively speaking, the former house hutong is shorter, but also wider, and the courtyard is more spacious and elegant, and many people live, such as the jurist He Jihong at that time.

　　Thirty-one years ago, in the summer of 1990, if it were not for Mr. Sun Daolin's appointment to meet me there, I would have seen the ugliness of me, and I would not have known that there was such a short, elegant and chic alley in the capital. If it were not for Mr. Sun Daolin, how elegant and chic the hutong would be, it would have little to do with me. With Mr. Sun Daolin, this alley allows me to have unforgettable memories, and everything in the memory is full of vitality and life, just like the sunlight flashing through the light spots sprinkled by the old pear branches and leaves in the alley, always jumping at the noon of the thirty-first summer.

　　When I went, I saw at a glance that Mr. Sun Daolin was already waiting for me at the east entrance of Qianzhai Hutong, that is, North Long Street. The memory was so clear, everything was as if it were yesterday: he was wearing a pair of shorts, and he waved at me from a distance, as if we had known each other for a long time. A heat wave started in my heart.

　　To say that I have also met some artists of all sizes, but an artist like him, I have seen for the first time, his elegance and ease, maybe many people can do it, but his sincerity, all the way to the old kind of transparent sincerity, is not the state that everyone can achieve.

　　In the former hutong, there is the Shanghai office in Beijing, where he came to live. At noon, he invited me to lunch at the restaurant in the Shanghai office, where authentic Shanghainese dishes were authentic and pure in taste. In addition to eating, we talked about one topic, and that was motherhood. He said that he was watching a new issue of Wenhui Monthly On the evening of the beginning of the year, which had "Mother" written by me, and he watched it all night, and he was moved to tears, and at that time he had the idea that he must make it into a movie (in fact, it was just a prose of more than 20,000 words), and after more than half a year of hard work, he finally persuaded the Shanghai Film Studio to decide to shoot and let me complete the adaptation of the script. When he came to Beijing this time, he mainly came to talk to me about this matter, and he actually trusted me so much, there was no conversation, and he had never met, so he handed over the screenwriting job to me.

　　He told me that after reading my Mother, he remembered his childhood as a child in The Imperial City of Xishiku in Beijing, and remembered his mother. He also remembered the unforgettable true feelings that ordinary people like his mother had given him in those hard and cruel years.

　　That day, he mainly listened to me tell the story of my mother, and my irreparable loss and guilt for my mother. He listened so quietly, without interrupting me, and he couldn't help but shed tears as he listened. I did not dare to look into his eyes, for I had never seen a seventy-year-old man's eyes so cloudy that they were still so clear, so clear that their tears were as clear as dewdrops.

　　Suddenly, he stood up and said to me with some excitement: Why do I have to make this movie? I don't just want to pat my mother's love, but I want to pay off a debt of affection, and let people now feel how important true feelings are to the world!

　　When we were old and young with tears in our eyes, reflecting the August sunshine in Beijing, I felt the artist's conscience, the rare true feelings in the flow of materialism, and the interrogation of this noisy world. When I came home that day, I quietly said to my mother in front of the portrait of my mother: An artist who graduated from the philosophy department of Peking University and is famous overseas, photographing a mother who has no culture and ordinary life, not every mother can enjoy it. Mom, your spirit in heaven can be greatly comforted.

　　In February 1995, I sent him two new books, including the one "Mother". He wrote to me: "I read your article about Mother again and still can't stop crying. Maybe it's older, but it's 'fragile'. I always remember that when I was seventeen or eighteen, I was much more rational, and I didn't know when I was better. ”

　　In December 2007, Mr. Sun Daolin passed away. Occasionally go to Beihai, then walk north long street, pass the east entrance of qianzhai hutong, and suddenly feel that Mr. Sun Daolin is standing there, waving to me from afar. (Xiao Fuxing)