What's even more amazing is that this low mountain peak was discovered by foreign missionaries more than 100 years ago, and it became a place to escape the heat and enjoy the cool. So when the whole world was in turmoil, the wind of building villas in Gai Lou rose here, and businessmen, celebrities, missionaries, politicians and warlords from all over the world came in droves. On a small hill, hundreds of villas lined up, quickly forming North Street, South Street, foreign firms, post offices and warlords. In its heyday, there were thousands of foreigners and their families, and concession areas were demarcated, stipulating that China people were not allowed to enter. In the territory of China rooster, the beautiful chicken announcement was graffiti under Xiaofeng, which made the people of China extremely humiliated! Today, there are still more than 300 villas with different styles on Jigong Mountain, which is known as the "World Architecture Museum". Among them, the American Mansion, the Swedish Mansion, the German Mansion, the Danish Mansion and the famous Lu Yi (Ambition Mansion) built by China to publicize their ambitions are still strong, beautiful and foreign, and they are integrated with natural mountains and rivers to become a unique landscape of Jigong Mountain, while the sister building, Hongniang Village, Meiling Ballroom, Citigroup Mansion and Marshall Mansion record the extraordinary cultural years and historical traces of Jigong Mountain.
Of course, Jigong Mountain is most famous for its natural spirituality and natural settings, virgin forest, bird paradise, natural ecology museum, native butterfly Expo Park, natural oxygen bar and the most famous climate. It, Beidaihe, Lushan and Moganshan are also called the four summer resorts in China.
The mountain is no longer high, and there is a fairy that is spiritual. Every time I chat with people or write down words about this mountain, I can't help but feel heartache for my hometown and this beautiful mountain.
In fact, these are just Jigong Mountain written in historical records and travel brochures. In my memory, Jigong Mountain is far more than that. This is a period in my life, a black-and-white negative, an ancient ballad. ...
one
Many years ago, I had to be treated in isolation because of tuberculosis, and I was admitted to Jigongshan Military Sanatorium, which was then called China People's Liberation Army 13 1 Field Hospital. I was twenty years old that year. Because I am sick, I have a chronic infectious disease called Fugui disease. Also, because a civilian was admitted to a military hospital and was called the wounded and sick like in Shajiabang, I became a patient of a group of soldiers aged 18. At that time, I felt very old, and I would blush whenever people asked me my age. But I found that every time the little soldier looked at me, he would blush, be at a loss and be confused. The infectious disease ward where I live is an old building outside the hospital headquarters, located on the hillside. From the stone steps, you can see the distant mountains in Hubei Province, bathed in the cool breeze blowing from northern Hubei. A gravel slope path in front of the old building connects the road around the mountain, and you can only enter the hospital headquarters after crossing the road, so the patient said that this is the outhouse of the hospital. Every morning, a middle-aged female military doctor wearing a military uniform and a white coat with a stethoscope around her neck will come from the hospital headquarters and make rounds with a serious face. At that time, I liked a kind of dry yeast tablets such as biscuits. I eat them sweetly as snacks, and I will tell the female military doctor that I have indigestion and need to prescribe some yeast tablets when I make rounds. After asking several times, the serious female military doctor finally looked at me and said, why do you eat so much? ! I blushed again and dared not look for her again. God, who doesn't know that I am old enough to eat vegetables when I am idle and hungry, what's more, I think this wasting disease is still sallow and emaciated even if I eat the whole world! Every day, a nurse sister, a nurse sister and a male nurse will file through the gravel path from time to time with medicine trays and needle boxes. Sister nurse is white and slim, speaks Sichuan dialect, and her voice is loud and clear as a barrage. The wind is relaxing and the wooden floor is banging. She really doesn't look like a nurse. The nurse's younger sister has a round face and slightly dark skin, and always smiles. All the soldiers like her, scrambling to help her mop the floor and carry disinfection barrels. The male nurse is surnamed Liu and doesn't like to talk. He only remembers that his big finger is thick and the injection hurts, and he has no other impression. There are three meals a day. When the dining car crunches over the gravel path, it is often accompanied by the happy cheers of the little soldiers, and then the narrow tunnel in the building is crowded with people, and the fragrance of the food floats up. ...
In my opinion, the little soldier's illness is not serious Pneumonia, dysentery and bad colds are mostly discharged after staying for a few days or more. The most serious is the liver patients with high transaminase, but these diseases are put on these little soldiers of eighteen or nineteen years old, and you can't see the disease at all, and they are alive and kicking. There is a small field in front of our ward building, where little soldiers often play. Later, the round-faced nurse sister taught us to practice Tai Ji Chuan on the field. This is where I learned my earliest 24-style Tai Ji Chuan and Tai Chi swordsmanship. After leaving the hospital, I became the coach of Tai Ji Chuan in the May 7th Cadre School.
There is also a porch in front of the ward building, which is the water room and bathroom. Because I am the only female patient in the whole building and an ordinary person, I often have a subtle feeling of not knowing each other when I meet in the bathroom. It is here that the little soldiers I met occasionally blush. Especially when a little soldier washes his face and brushes his teeth alone, it is easiest to see him blush. I'm stiff and awkward, too. It is often the little soldiers who pull their faces and mouths and run away in a hurry.
How young we were then! However, the story happened. One day, a tall, handsome, quiet and deep young officer lived in the ward building, suffering from the same type of high transaminase, and the nurse sister called him technician Li. Technician Li paid attention. In the bathroom, he often takes out a small round mirror to comb his hair, and the button on his collar has been buttoned straight. When I comb my hair alone in the bathroom, I don't blush, but I comb it like nobody cares. Almost everyone gradually found that the nurse sister with a clear voice suddenly became soft-spoken, and the frequency of coming to the ward increased significantly. Nurses' stations are often brightly lit at night, and nurses' sisters work night shifts more often. Every night shift, technician Li was asked to go to the nurse's station for an injection. After intramuscular injection, it was like a transfusion bottle. Therefore, the cunning and naughty soldier will shout at the sight of the nurse's sister: Technician Li, give me an injection! Then they all ran to the front of the house to play, and there was a cheerful atmosphere in the old building.
After about a month, the climate in Jigongshan was cool. In autumn, two soldiers suddenly came to my ward, saying that they were investigating the relationship between the nurse's sister and the technician Li. They asked very detailed questions, such as how many times the nurse sister comes to the ward every day, how long each time, whether she often gets along with technician Li alone, whether she often stays at the nurse station with technician Li at night, and so on. I was inexplicably nervous at that moment. I put my hand down and said, I don't know, I don't know anything. Really, I'm a civilian and I'm living in a military hospital. I don't know or know technician Li ... The nurse's sister is very beautiful, very good, and the injection doesn't hurt ... Maybe my face is red again, which makes the two soldiers very nervous, and finally I have to leave in a hurry. It is said that all the sick and wounded in this old building have been investigated. I also heard that the army has discipline, and hospitals prohibit medical staff from falling in love with patients. Soon, the beautiful nurse sister was transferred. When I was discharged from the hospital, the technician Li was still there, but she didn't like to talk. When the little soldiers saw him, they were afraid to talk to him first, as if all of us were ashamed of him, so technician Li became more and more indifferent and deep.
I remember when I first went up the mountain, my mother seemed to casually say that if you go to Shanjun Hospital for treatment, people will forget you for the time being. This sentence is very instructive. I really didn't want people to know that I was ill. Sister leaned over her ear and said, find you a book! My family may think that I live alone in the hospital, and it's a little unbearable for me to live in a long way. In fact, my three months on the mountain happened to be the hot summer and the best season in Jigongshan. With the cool mountain breeze and fresh air, I curled up under the covers and read sholokhov's The Silent Don, Hugo's Les Miserables, Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo, Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, Stendhal's Red and Black, Tolstoy's anna karenine, Chekhov's Death of a Small Civil Servant and Mo Bosang's. These world literature masterpieces were banned at that time, but every half month, my sister would try to find them for me, deliver them in person or entrust others to send them up the mountain, which made me happy and afraid of stealing the forbidden fruit. Whenever a serious female military doctor comes to make rounds, I will hide these books quickly. It is these books that effectively fill my empty reading window and sweep away my blindness in world literature. The most unforgettable thing is that the 60-year-old father climbed up the mountain with a bag of books on his back like a guerrilla captain. The books he gave us were State and Revolution, Critique of Gotha Program and Anti-Turin Theory, which I read as literary works. The long place names, names and historical events in the book often arouse my literary association ... it was a very pleasant reading experience. But I still can't understand the anti-Turin, and I don't know what it means. It is really simple. Today, recalling that school time is still my most unforgettable and enjoyable thing. The only thing that went wrong after being hospitalized for three months was that when I went down the mountain, because of the long-term injection of streptomycin, my thin hip muscles were covered with pinholes, and the old scars piled up with new injuries and became like shoes in my hand? Difficult, from then on, the sequelae of mild deafness fell. Fortunately, the X-ray showed that my lung cavity had healed and calcified.
two
Many years ago, fate made me meet literature. The 1980s was the post-disaster Renaissance in China. My youth and I were lucky enough to meet literature. My hometown Xinyang, formerly known as Yiyang and Shencheng, has a superior geographical position and a long history. Chu Xiangchun, Shen Jun and Huang Xie, one of the four sons of the Warring States, were born in Xinyang. They are charming and brilliant in literary talent. Through a TV series "The Legend of Mi Yue", today's China boys and girls are almost household names. He Jingming, one of the "four outstanding figures" and "the first seven" in Ming Dynasty, and modern brother writers Bai Hua and Ye Nan are all the pride of Xiangzi literati. The deepest and most expensive spiritual luxury in Xinyang is literati feelings, just like Xinyang Maojian tea, which is elegant, noble and literary. At that time, a group of outstanding students from other provinces were sent to Fudan University, National People's Congress, Peking University, Xida University, Anhui Normal University and other famous schools in southern Henan because of the Cultural Revolution, and stopped in Xinyang, a foreign land, and founded a pure literary publication Dawn for their hometown. The title naturally comes from the exquisite Jigong Mountain. I am fortunate to be the editor of this magazine, and I am also an avid young writer. At that time, we pursued scar literature, reflective literature of Wang Meng and Zhang Xianliang, and realistic literature of Liu with a strong sense of mission, and then pursued the new period, new poetry, such as misty poetry, stream of consciousness, surrealism, deconstruction, then European and American literature, comparative literature, and Latin American literature that pursued literary explosion ... That was the heyday of China literature, and it was also a miscellaneous peanut tree. Reading by the whole people, reading novels, essays and poems like reading the Internet and WeChat. Today, people need and like literature, which can let everyone know about Director Qiao and the head teacher overnight. An article "Goldbach Conjecture" has made people all over the country know about Chen Jingrun. Literature has become a myth while creating a myth, which is the real carnival of literature. At that time, Wang Meng wrote a novel called Hard Porridge. At that time, literature was like the porridge we had for breakfast every day. How nice! We read, write, contribute, refuse and contribute again ... Pay tribute to literature, to masters and to classics! How many nights have we been reading crazily at our desks? At that time, we didn't call it tapping the keyboard, we called it climbing the grid. We used a pen full of love and pursuit to climb the 300-word grid manuscript paper. Literature is the lamp in the heart, and it is the ideal and belief hanging high above the head. We unconsciously exaggerate and deify literature, and it took me many years to realize that writing is actually just a profession and a business. I will be nervous and blush when I see the writers I admire and the editors of provincial and national literary periodicals, and then I will call "teacher" carefully. Looking at a woman writer is more like looking at a goddess. After publishing several works, people began to call me a writer. I will deny it with a white face and a wave. How can a writer be called so casually? !
The excellent situation makes people forge ahead, and the spring of literature is so gorgeous. At that time, the literary world was really active. All kinds of pen meetings, seminars, work analysis meetings, and activities of collecting ideas and going deep into life originated from the fact that life was higher than life, nourishing writers and colliding with their works. The number of the villa rented by Henan Federation of Literary and Art Circles. 1 In Jigongshan, there is a cool breeze and beautiful scenery. As a literary and artistic creation base, every summer, elites from all walks of life gather in Jigong Mountain, accompanied by mountain breeze and Lin Tao, and send their love into the landscape of Building 1. 1, dancing and writing, talking loudly. Bragging, chatting, drinking and smoking, when you get up, you sing and dance wildly. The lively 1 building is often brightly lit all night, and chickens crow and dogs jump. How much passion burns in this smoky atmosphere, and how many brilliant flashes collide in this wild and unrestrained state. The subtle natural wind and rain in Jigong Mountain is so inclusive and appropriate that it nourishes the hundred gardens of Zhongzhou literature and art, and injects spirituality and fragrance into exotic flowers and herbs in every hot summer, just like Jin Juhua, which is in full bloom all over the mountain.
I attended the first pen meeting in Jigongshan and got to know Ding Lin, the editor-in-chief of Running, who published my first novel. I feel horrible. A few years later, when he saw Mr. Ding again, he smiled and said, "I know you are unmarried. When you go up the mountain, you have a small box in your hand ... this is very interesting. " I said I almost fainted when I saw the editor-in-chief. Unfortunately, I'm not nervous now, but I can't see the bookish and elegant teacher Ding Lin anymore ... Later, I attended many pen meetings, and I went to the first advanced class of Lu Xun College of Literature of the Chinese Writers Association in Beijing, and became teachers, students and classmates with many famous contemporary writers and editors, but I will never forget this first literary pen meeting.
I can't forget that Mr. He Qiusheng, the editor-in-chief of Mangyuan, who published my first novella, chanted loudly at a pen meeting in Jigongshan after the rain: "The patter of rustling suddenly surges and beats violently, like the night terrors of waves and sudden storms. It clinks when it touches something, and gold and iron clink; Another example is the soldiers who went to the enemy and hurried away with their medals. They didn't listen to orders and only listened to the sound of the army.
I can't forget Mr. Pang Jiaji, the former editor-in-chief of Mangyuan. When I went to Zhengzhou to revise the manuscript, Mr. Pang gave me a set of four-volume versions of John Christophe translated by Fu Lei, and said earnestly: To read classics, this book is not only a masterpiece but also a translation!
I can't forget the names of Qiao Dianyun, Tian Zhonghe, Zhang Yu, Li and Qi Anqing. I almost met a real person for the first time on Jigong Mountain.
I will never forget the years when young people from Wenqing met in Building 1. We talked about avant-garde fauvism, modern, post-modern, realistic, surreal, traditional, unconventional, crying with rock climbing and lost in exploration, and of course, those immature and superficial but passionate words. Later, some of us became famous writers, such as Sun Fangyou, Bai Mo, Hou Yuxin and Kou Yunfeng. Unfortunately, some of them died young, and some of them became leaders of other fronts. Literature taught us nothing for nothing. Anyone who has a literary complex must be a good official and a Confucian businessman, because literature has taught us to be a man.
I felt the pure interpersonal relationship in Henan literary and art circles at that time. Cultivating new people and new works, editors and authors are friends and relatives of teachers and students, which is completely utilitarian and purely extreme. Editors and authors will work together to revise a work, be ecstatic about a good work, and truly share the fate with * * *, which is piety to literature and purifies us as well. 2011/kloc-61October, when I learned the news of the death of Florence Nightingale, a well-respected chairman of Henan Federation of Literary and Art Circles and a famous writer, I was deeply sorry, because Florence Nightingale generously prefaced my first novel collection more than 20 years ago, but I could never see him say "thank you" again. I am deeply grateful to the senior writers and editors who gave me careful guidance and selfless help when I first entered the literary world. Their personality and talent have laid the foundation for a young man's personality orientation, value orientation and knowledge pursuit all his life. In this sense, I will thank the life of literature and the scholars I will always admire!
three
"Many years later, Colonel Aureliano stood in front of the firing squad and remembered the distant afternoon when his father took him to visit the ice rink. At that time, Macondo was a village of twenty families, and adobe houses were built on the river bank. The river is clear and flows along the rocky riverbed ... "This is the classic description of Colombian writer Garcia Marquez at the beginning of One Hundred Years of Solitude. This masterpiece of magical realism links the past, the present and the future in one sentence, thus reappearing the grand historical process of Latin America's century-old changes.
Today, many years later, when I returned to my hometown from the sweltering southern part of my motherland, more than 1000 kilometers away, I once again boarded the cool place of Jigongshan. The thin sick woman, the ridiculous little Wen Qing who clutched a small box with both hands, no longer exists. The mountain wind messed up my light gray bun, the rain and fog soaked my wide trousers skirt, and the little girl next door to the rented mountain house looked at me strangely. When children meet strangers, they will smile and ask where the guests are from.
The mountains and rivers remain the same, and the years have passed. Decades have passed and we are no longer young.
I went to the ward building and the gravel road in front of the door for a long time. After careful judgment, I found that a house was built in front of the old building, and the original bathroom was connected with the old building. The small venue where we played Tai Chi was gone, and the stone road became a first-class stone step. Walking down the steps, all the new houses and old buildings fell into weeds, and a rusty lock on the door closed all the past memories. However, I won't forget that many years ago, the little soldier who loves blushing most in this old building cut bamboo and practiced Tai Chi sword for me, and gave me a bamboo sword himself. The smooth and shiny blade of the hilt is the brilliance polished by the little soldier with his body temperature, but I didn't know it at that time, and I was embarrassed to ask the name. Nowadays, small venues and paths are gone, and old buildings have been demolished. Where are those soldiers now? What kind of storyline did technician Li and nurse sister have later? There are also serious female military doctors and round-faced nurse sisters. Where are they now? Will they go to Jigongshan to find an old man after many years like me?
At this time, a group of men and women with gray hair and Hubei accent came over while chatting. They pointed to another building on the side of the road and said that this was the office building of a former nursing home. Remember that day we went to the third floor to watch the plane together! I looked at them with ecstasy and watched them take pictures in front of the building with great interest. Although the doors are locked and the windows are worn out, a cluster of purple-blue hydrangeas is blooming in front of the building. Although the years have passed, everyone has had youthful memories like flowers and dreams.
I'll search the villa building 1, where flags are flying. The once arrogant pride is gone, and there are so many buildings squeezing it along the way until it arches to the edge. When the old windows are demolished, the wires are lowered, and the window in the basement on the first floor is directly a cave. Weeds are overgrown in front of the building and garbage is everywhere. The dilapidated building 1 is as shabby as an old beggar. Stepping on the overgrown broken stone steps, I saw a broken lamp hanging on the ceiling of the carved front porch, big shorts and pullovers hanging on the terrace, and now there are several maintenance workers living in the building.
I can't bear to watch any more. A burst of pain hit my chest, which was heartbreaking. Want to cry without tears. Will literature grow old with time? Goodbye, 1 building; Farewell, my lush years; Farewell, my literary dream ...
Stepping on dead leaves, the sun has become mottled
In Jigongshan 18 Villa, I also met Bai Mo, a writer who comes here to write alone every summer. The young man who was full of blood and passion in those days is now a little more profound and sophisticated. 18 Villa is like an island in Beigang, with lush green plants and trees. I read the article "A Man's Villa" written by Chen Junfeng, Party Secretary of Xinyang Federation of Literary and Art Circles and Chairman of Writers' Association, before I found this place and Bai Mo, who lives in seclusion here. Every year from June to September, 12 long wet summers, Bai Mo sticks to it, just like a soldier fighting alone in the street, with more than 5 million words of works, more than 20 novellas, and more than 100 short stories, essays and essays crackling like bullets from here. He is fighting against time, literature and himself.
A young man from Beijing also went to the 18 villa today. He came all the way to Jigongshan with Bai Mo's more than 1000 new books, Glorious House, and asked the book lovers of the Reading Club to come and ask the writers for their autographs. Young people are black and thin, wearing a pair of wide-brimmed glasses, but they are very happy and sunny.
After a rainstorm, an extremely colorful sunset glow appeared on Jigong Mountain, such as red silk, color training, flaming flames burning in the sky, and scalding blood splashing all over the universe. The afterglow of the sunset is so brilliant that many people hold up their cameras and mobile phones to take pictures. The sunset glow turned the whole mountain upside down, and everyone's cheeks were red.
Compared with this magnificent sunset, maybe literature is not old, but we are not old, and there is still a lot of time and things to do!