Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 471 470 Being a poetry martyr is just the expectation and carnival of the literary youths of later generations.

Xichuan and his team sent Haizi to the hospital for a checkup. According to Haizi's current condition, he would definitely be sent to a mental hospital. In fact, this was the only way for Haizi to survive.

But what would happen to Haizi if he were admitted to a mental hospital?
Even if he is cured in the future, will he still be the talented Haizi of the past?
Fang Minghua thought of another famous poet - Shi Zhi.

His real name is Guo Lusheng. He is hailed as the "founder of Misty Poetry" in the contemporary poetry world. His representative work is "Love Life".

It’s not the one by Wang Guozhen.

Perhaps after a fierce struggle in life,
I died more peacefully than that lake.

Then please go to the cemetery and look for my tombstone.
It is still engraved with: Love life.

This life-loving man was sent to the Yanjing Third Welfare Home in the early 1990s due to mental problems. The home mainly admitted "three-no" mental patients and mental patients who were unable to be cared for by urban residents at home.

I stayed there for twenty years! When I came out, I was already gray-haired.

Would Haizi also take this path?

But no matter what, being alive is the best ending, especially for his parents.

Being a poetry martyr is just the expectation and carnival of later generations of young writers.

The taxi stopped at the entrance of the alley, and Fang Minghua paid and walked inside.

Although Yanjing is a bit chaotic now, it is still quiet and peaceful.

Arriving at the gate of the yard, Fang Minghua opened the door with his key and walked in.

The yard was still full of flowers, but the door of Wang Zi's room was locked, apparently he had gone to work.

After looking around the other rooms and finding nothing wrong, Fang Minghua didn't bother to pay attention to the barking puppy anymore. He took out a piece of paper from his travel bag, wrote a note and put it on the windowsill.

First, he said that he had read the novel she published in Youth Literature and that it was very well written, and encouraged her to keep up the good work. He also reminded the girl that Yanjing was in a state of chaos recently, so she should not run around, stay in the courtyard if she had nothing to do, and pay attention to safety, and then he left quietly.

It was already the second night when we returned to Xijing.

It was raining and the temperature dropped sharply, and Fang Minghua felt a headache.

Dragging his somewhat tired body, Fang Minghua took a taxi back to his home in Xingfu Community.

Song Tangtang was in the living room. When she saw Fang Minghua coming back, she quickly took the travel bag from his hand and asked with concern, "What happened? Why are you in such a hurry to go to Yanjing?"

"Pour me a cup of tea first." Fang Minghua sat down on the sofa

Song Tangtang quickly made him a cup of steaming hot Longjing tea and placed it on the coffee table. Seeing him like this, she started to rub his temples.

Fang Minghua took a sip of tea and enjoyed his wife's massage, and immediately felt much more comfortable.

He told Song Tangtang everything, but he didn't say that he went there on his own initiative, but instead received a call from Xichuan.

Although Song Tangtang was somewhat skeptical as to why Xichuan would call her husband, who was thousands of miles away, to save someone, she knew that her husband had a good relationship with Xichuan and that he also admired and respected Haizi very much, so this doubt only flashed by.

Moreover, my husband is a kind-hearted person.

What surprised her more now was why Haizi committed suicide.

The person who could write a poem like "Spring Flowers Blooming Facing the Sea" actually committed suicide?

"In this world, talented people are manic and sensitive underneath their appearance." Fang Minghua leaned back on the sofa, slightly closed his eyes and murmured:

"Are there not many talented people who committed suicide in ancient and modern times, both in China and abroad? Qu Yuan, Wang Guowei, Yesenin, Tsvetaeva, Mayakovsky, Benjamin, Zweig, Hemingway, Sanmao."

"Oh, then you're not going to commit suicide, are you?" Song Tangtang suddenly said.

Fang Minghua opened his eyes and looked at her: "Do you think I am that kind of person? Life is so good, I have a lovely wife and two cute children, I haven't enjoyed it enough, how could I commit suicide?!"

"Well, there is a confidante outside!" I #￥%...

Two days later, Fang Minghua received a call from Xichuan in Yanjing while at work.

"I took Haizi to see a doctor. The doctor gave a diagnosis of schizophrenia and recommended hospitalization. His parents were rushing to Yanjing. When they arrived, we discussed sending Haizi to the hospital. Several of us classmates were raising funds. After all, hospitalization costs a lot of money."

"I'll donate 5000 and I'll mail it to you." Fang Minghua said without thinking.

"Thank you." Xichuan did not refuse, Haizi needed the money.

The two chatted for a few more sentences and then hung up the phone.

A day later, Fang Minghua received another call from Yanjing. It was from Luo Yihe's wife Zhang Yan. The first sentence she said was: "Thank you, Editor Fang, you saved Yihe."

"You're too polite. I just saw Yihe didn't look well at the time and made a random guess." Fang Minghua explained clumsily.

The other party did not ask the reason.

After hanging up the phone, Fang Minghua made a cup of tea, thinking about the call and what had happened in history.

Haizi and Luo Yihe were both outstanding poets of their time, and they both died almost at the same time.

In later generations, especially after the millennium, people commemorate Haizi almost every year.

Flowers are placed all year round in front of Haizi's tomb in Chawan, Gaohe, Anhui Province, Haizi's hometown. It has also been listed as a key cultural relic protection unit at the county level by the local county government.

In Qinhuangdao, there is a "Haizi Stone"

In the small town called Delingha, next door to the northwest, a memorial hall and a forest of steles were also built.

This seems extremely strange in an age when poetry is being abolished.

But people only remember Haizi and forget the person overshadowed by the halo - the poet Luo Yihe.

Historically, Haizi did not publish many poems during his lifetime, and their works were mainly concentrated in "October" edited by Luo Yihe.

Another of the Three Musketeers, Xichuan, once said, "Haizi was not a very famous person during his lifetime."

In this era of brilliant poetry stars, Haizi's brilliance is not strong. He is not as good as Bei Dao and Gu Cheng, and even not as good as Xichuan and Luo Yihe.

Even at that time, a group of Sichuan poets like Shang Zhongmin and Hu Dong thought that Haizi's poems were too watery, and some poets in BJ thought it was inappropriate for Haizi to write long poems.

Haizi's poems were once mercilessly ridiculed by some poets, and those doubts deeply hit Haizi, who had a high opinion of himself.

But Luo Yihe always encouraged Haizi. Once, Haizi was sitting on the bed sulking, while Luo Yihe was reciting Haizi's poems beside him, and then said to him: "Your poems are so good!"

Haizi's suicide was a great blow to Luo Yihe. He seldom ate in the last month or so, and stayed up late every night to sort out Haizi's manuscripts until he died of a cerebral hemorrhage caused by overwork.

Later, Luo Yihe’s classmate Liu Jiawang mentioned in a WeChat message: “Luo Yihe’s name should definitely be included in the history of contemporary literature… I would have dared to curse them like this if they were both alive. Didn’t Haizi, that little bastard, die half a year earlier? He pushed all the hard work onto Yihe, not like a brother.”

These are what he saw on the Internet before he came to this era, but now history has changed.

Both are alive.

Being alive is a remarkable thing.

Fang Minghua looked at the spring scenery outside the window and thought silently.

He no longer worried about Yanjing's affairs. He now had to consider his own affairs.

April is almost here. When I competed for the position of editor-in-chief, I signed a three-year contract with the Provincial Writers Association, and it is now about to expire.

(End of this chapter)