I used to think like this: when my book was published, I went to every newsstand. I want my favorite blue-green cover and open a small window in the dark for people to enjoy the moon and watch the excitement.

I'm going to ask the newspaper vendor and pretend to be irrelevant: "Is it selling well? -It's too expensive, so expensive, does anyone really buy it? " Oh, be famous before it's too late! If you come too late, happiness will not be so good. At first, I published two articles in the school magazine, but I was also crazy and happy. I read it again and again, and every time it seems like the first time I saw it. I'm not so excited now. Therefore, it is even more urgent: hurry, hurry, too late, too late!

Even if individuals can wait, the times are hasty, already being destroyed, and more destruction is coming. One day, our civilization, whether lofty or flashy, will become a thing of the past. If the word I use most often is "desolation", it is because there is such a threat of desolation in my ideological background.

I've always wanted to go to Shanghai's outdated bounce, but I can't find the right person to accompany me. I'm so interested in such rubbish and vulgar things that I'm embarrassed to talk to people. I didn't find a lady until recently. Her family didn't accompany her to see Wei Baoxia in summer, so we went together. At first, I played Black Boy. When I heard it, there was a strange tragedy. It's windy, windy and hissing. The heavens and the earth are mysterious and the universe is vast. The wind in the traffic jam is whistling and chasing emptiness, and there is nowhere to stay. A man in a blue cloth coat knocked on the bamboo slips and beat the time. "well! Hey! Hey! " Just stand in front of the stage and get closer to the audience, deliberately overwhelming the singer: "Hey! Kwa！ Kova! " I sat in the second row, stunned by shock, and many things in my mind were gradually smashed out, leaving only the most primitive. In the cold kiln in the northwest, people can only live a very simple life, which is not easy. The people in the play screamed at the top of their lungs to fight against the sour wind of Hu Qin and the iron racket of Bangzi. A northern girl dressed as Li Sanniang, a yellow-faced woman, painted two long eyebrows in dark ink without any wedding powder, and carried the burden to fetch water. On the way, she complained bitterly: "Although it's not as bad as Sister Wang …" She stared at the ground and shouted out sentence by sentence. While fetching water from the well platform, "a young hero suddenly appeared on horseback", which was her son. Mother and son met by chance and didn't know each other. Later, the little general began to suspect that this "poor mother" was his mother, so he inquired about her family background. "Who is your father's surname? Who's your mother? Who is your brother? " She answered them one by one She pronounced "I" as "wow" and even explained the origin of my sister-in-law. "Wow, Sister-in-law Zhang ..." There lived a loess cave, and it was always dusk outside, so the survival of cold shrinkage was limited to this point; Who is the father, who is the mother, brother and sister-in-law ..... can remember very little, so remember it firmly.

Before the main performance, there was a joke about murdering her husband. The slut's broad face was covered with two pieces of fat, and even her nose and wings were painted red, leaving only a narrow pink nose. Xifeng's tall and thin nose doesn't match her broad face. Her watery eyes seem to be born on both sides of her face, close to her ears, like a wild animal. She has gold teeth in her mouth, two greasy salt moss on the back of her head hanging down her legs, and a round and fat yellow and black arm exposed in the sleeve of Ji Hong's shirt. The ghost of her husband went to complain, and the official in the sedan chair got a report saying, "There is a whirlwind blocking the way." The official asked, "Is it a male spin and a female spin?" On closer inspection, the answer is "male spin". The official told him to "chase the whirlwind and don't make mistakes." Chasing a new grave, the little widow who went to the grave was caught. She knelt down to explain how her husband died of illness one night, but the officer still didn't understand all kinds of metaphors. She sang, "My Lord! Whose kitchen door doesn't make a fire? Which chimney doesn't smoke? " The audience cheered.

The woman in power in the wild world is actually not the wild rose that most people think. She has a pair of big black eyes and is stronger than a man. With a whip in her hand, she is always ready to whip someone. That's just a lie made up by city people who need new excitement. There will only be a woman like Hua Dan in the wasteland and ruins in the future, who can live happily and go to any era and society, and her home is everywhere.

So I feel very sad. I often think about this, perhaps because of many predictions made by Wells. I used to think it was far away, but now it seems not too far away. However, autumn is still as clear as water and as bright as a mirror. I should be happy. When the book was reprinted, Yan Ying's paintings changed their covers, like dark clouds on ancient silks and satins, and like the tide rising in the dark, many noisy waves fell gently. A closer look shows that it is a small jade chain, some of which are hooked together in twos and threes and cannot be untied; Some are like a single moon, returning to the circle; Some two are together, only talking about the ground next to them, but things have changed-there is nothing wrong with using Song to represent the relationship between people in the book.

Yan Ying only made a draft. Shocked by the powerful and beautiful patterns, I copied them one by one as willingly as I painted red. Life is like this-it has its patterns and we must copy them. So there is a proverb in the west: "Let life come to you." This kind of submission is not like the obscure, cruel, embarrassing and humiliating submission of the characters in my novels, but it is still bleak.

(September 14th, 1944