Hunter and Hussar

Chapter 97

Hold in my hand the fountain of life,
I just think it's fresh,
Strong wine, fresh foam,
Infuse my travels, labors, adventures.

As if the past has never been to the garden

will be revealed before Me.

But now, suddenly facing the grave,

I look back a little in the past coldly,

I saw the sorrow and joy of its tortuous irrigation
Disappeared into an ancient desert,

Then I know all my efforts
But finished ordinary life.

—— Mu Dan

Drinking on the bridge in the recollection of the noon, most of the heroes sitting in the middle.The long ditch flows silently.In the shadows of apricot blossoms, playing the flute till dawn.

It has been like a dream for more than [-] years, although this body is shocking.Take a leisurely visit to the small pavilion to see Xinqing.Many things in ancient and modern times, the fisherman sang three watch.

—— Chen Yuyi
The young man listens to Yuge upstairs, and the red candle dims the tent.The middle-aged man listens to the rain in the boat, the river is wide and the clouds are low, and the broken wild goose is called the west wind.

Now listening to the rain under the monk's house, the temples are already stars.The joys and sorrows are always ruthless, every step of the way until dawn.

—— Jiang Jie

Confucius traveled in Kuang, and the people of Song Dynasty surrounded him several times, and the string songs continued.

—— "Zhuangzi·Autumn Water"

When the spring dries up, the fish are on land, and they are wet with each other, and they are wet with each other, so it is better to forget each other in the rivers and lakes.

—— "Zhuangzi The Great Master"

It seems that I am used to going back to my grandparents' home in the country for the New Year, and I have nowhere else to go, as my grandparents are long gone.It is a luxury to find a place to go back to during the Chinese New Year.When the old man is here, the home is still like a home.The grandparents and uncles haven't been together for many years, and they all live their own lives.Our old house is estimated to be standing alone in the field at this moment, and the endless cold wind is surrounded by the small particles left after the firecrackers burned, and they are constantly beating the house that has not been reopened for several years. on the wooden door.

In fact, we were supposed to celebrate the New Year at home this year.According to the original plan, we should move at the end of the year.But it seems that neither I nor my parents are very caring, procrastinating, and finally failed to move.That house was much larger than the current three-bedroom one-living room, with three bedrooms, a study room, and two bathrooms.But what about moving there?It's empty, and there is another room that I don't know what to do with it.I bought it back then so that he and I could each have a room. "A room that belongs only to oneself", the eldest brother seemed to have discussed this topic with his sister, but he didn't quite understand it at the time. It seems to have something to do with literature. I don't know, but I think this sentence is very attractive.I'm tired of sharing a bed, a big lamp with that person, and hearing someone crawling up and down my head, especially if I want to be alone.I want a place where I don’t do what I want, where I can throw my socks, my schoolbag on the ground, my desk is a mess, and my closet is a mess full of clothes.No one can see it, let alone someone "fake" to help me clean up.I want to tell everyone that I have grown up, become independent, can live on my own, and have the right to lock out irrelevant people. I don’t need anyone to stay by my side, just like spying on me Parents report my situation.

But I don't want this person to disappear.

I'm so terrified of moving.Probably mom and dad know, so they keep procrastinating for me.The new house is not only "a room that belongs only to oneself", but also a "room that does not belong to anyone".It's like a giant picture frame stuck to the wall, empty of anything, a cold reminder of what is doomed and irreversible.

There are few people, but the house is big, and the silent darkness seems to climb and spread little by little, gradually devouring the people hiding in the corner.I have this feeling every time I go back to my grandparents' house.They repaired the new house very big, probably because they want us to come back more often.Also, they have four children, if they all come back, the Chinese New Year will always be lively.This big house has two floors, two rooms on the first floor, one of which is equipped with air-conditioning, and three rooms and a bathroom with a toilet on the second floor, so that every family can live comfortably, even though the year All of them stayed here for no more than ten days.

How did the two old people stay in such a big house when only the two of them were at home?I have no idea.Just walk up the steps leading to the second floor step by step.My aunt's house is not coming back this year, and my grandfather told me that there is an empty room upstairs, and I can live alone.Needless to say, I knew it was the room at the head of the stairs on the second floor. It was very narrow and long, with a window at the end, and orange sunlight was always pouring in, like a thin curtain being blown by the wind.In front of the window was an old school desk-like table, with a lot of paint peeling off helplessly at the corners, and a layer of glass was vaguely covered on the table top.To the left of it is a small bed.It is said that the house was built when we were just born. Grandpa thought that we have two children in our family. When we grow up and come back, it is best to have a separate room.What he thought of was ten years later, but he didn't expect that now every family has one.But I still have the privilege of occupying a room to myself without any reason.It stands to reason that it should be given to my brother.He's in college, going to graduate school soon.But my grandfather still told me that the room is mine, and he wants to give me what he thinks is best, and no one can shake that.

I slowly looked around for a week.There is no one in each house, all the beds are neatly packed, and the extra folding beds are piled up with red or green embroidered quilts unique to the countryside. They are tightly packed, giving people a sense of security and at the same time filled with dusty atmosphere. Probably like straw or a grain heap?My sister described it this way, but both of us grew up in the city, and we have never smelled these smells.

Brother is not here.My sister is not there either.Grandma told me that they went to the other side of the river.On the opposite bank is a small forest, the branches and leaves of which are probably all gone by now.Spread among the fallen leaves is a row of down-to-earth tombs, some are bunker-like mounds, while others are neatly built with bricks and stones, forming an impenetrable fortress.Probably the only thing in the world that is certain and unchangeable is death.Today is New Year's Eve, I'm going to visit my ancestors, send a word or two of blessings, and give them lucky money.It's a bit strange for the younger generation to give lucky money to the elders.But one day we will receive it ourselves.In the big house with dim lights, the tall elders give the children New Year's money; after they move to the short castle, it will be our turn to give them, even if we will gradually forget some names that are too far away .

But what about people of the same generation?And what about my grandparents?It seems like I haven't been to them in ages - maybe never, I can't remember.Is it because I don't want to go?Or did my parents not take me there?Or say "too busy"?Not a bad excuse.I seem to be very busy, although I don't know what I have been busy with for the past three years.

But someone will do it for you.They silently helped me do what I was supposed to do.I just need to sit down, lie down, be obedient, and let them see that Wei Wei is still healthy, that's enough.The meaning of my existence is not to cause trouble, to live well.

I didn't go out to find my brother and sister, and I didn't go downstairs to greet the adults—I didn't know what to say when I went.I was alone in a cramped room, dimly lit by daylight under the curtains.Standing in the cold, in the countryside, they are used to growing wantonly from the feet every winter day.I yawned for a long time, and looked at every detail of the room like sleepwalking, from the two remaining spider webs on the ceiling to the bugs in the corner that could no longer take off.I watched it for a long time, and thought I could watch it longer if I wanted to, so long that I began to imagine a cowering spider crawling from the corner to the roof.

But I got up and wandered around the second floor again, like a king who patrols his territory in the early morning and at sunset.I didn't want to look for anything, and I didn't find anything until I saw a book on the table from my brother's family room. "Selected Chinese Literary Works of Past Dynasties".I took it and walked back to my room, leaning against the quilt piled up like a hill on the bed, flipping through it casually.The first song I found was "Bitter Cold Journey", the author is Cao Cao.When we were in the first grade of junior high school, we had studied "Guan Canghai" and "Gui Shishou", and I also knew "Duan Ge Xing", but this was the first time I heard of this poem. [1]
How difficult it is to go north to the Taihang Mountains!Yang Changban heckled and bent, and the wheels were destroyed.

How bleak the trees are, and the sound of the north wind is sad.Xiong Wei squatted at me, and tigers and leopards squatted on the road.

There are few people in the valley, and the snow falls He Feifei!Extending the neck and sighing, traveling far is full of thoughts.

How depressed my heart is, I want to return to the east.The water is deep, the bridge is dead, and the middle road is wandering.

Confused and lost the way, no place to live in the evening.The day of the journey is far away, and the people and horses are hungry at the same time.

Take the bag to get the salary, and hold the ax and ice to make money.Sadly, the poem "Dongshan" makes me sad. [2]
It doesn't seem to be similar to those previous poems with lofty ambitions, but they are all very bleak after reading.To put it bluntly, I was even colder, so cold that I wanted to spread out the quilt on the back, shrink it in, and tuck it into a ball.But maybe it's useless, I know, cotton jackets and quilts can't generate heat, they are not heat sources.It's too cold in the country.

Taihang Mountain is also very cold.It's in the north, I know it. It is said in "Explanation of Problems" that this poem was written on the way of Cao Cao's conquest of high-ranking cadres.Yangchangban, written in the annotation, refers to the road from Qinyang to Jincheng via Tianjingguan.Ban, slope.Heckles, twists and turns.It should be named after the road twists and turns like sheep intestines.If I go now, I am afraid that I will not only be as cold and hungry as Cao Cao on the Taihang Mountains, but also vomit unconsciously on the winding mountain road with nine twists and turns.The most terrifying thing about driving is nausea, but the car is bumping and cannot stop, the smell of gasoline permeates the body, and people can't stick their heads out of the window, so they can only find something to catch it.But not all bags are airtight, and you may find something dripped on your shoes after spitting it out, and it will bring a carload of fishy smell.A nightmare, I can't control my stomach, and I can't control my behavior of disgusting others.Is Cao Cao motion sick?probably not.But he was just walking halfway and wanted to go back.When it got dark, I couldn't find a place to live, and I had to go up the mountain to cut wood, dig ice to get water, and anyone would be homesick.But, he couldn't stop.

There are also notes on the last few sentences, so I didn't read it any more, and turned a few pages later.

The autumn wind is bleak and the weather is cold, and the grass and trees are shaken and dew into frost.

The group of swallows resigned and returned to Yan Nanxiang, and the thoughts of the king and the guests were heartbroken.

If you want to return to your hometown, why do you leave it and send it to another place?
The concubine stays alone in the vacant room, worrying about thinking about the king, not forgetting, and tears staining her clothes.

The aid of the piano and the singing of the strings send out the Qing Dynasty, and short songs cannot be chanted slightly.

The bright moon shines brightly on my bed, and the night is still young as the stars flow westward.

The Altair and the Weaver Girl look at each other from a distance, why do you alone limit the river? [3]
Really well written.The note under the title also said that this is an early existing seven-character poem in the history of Chinese literature, and the poet also wrote an important essay on the development of literary criticism.But I don't like this guy, and we haven't seen any of his works in class before, we only know that he, his father and younger brother are called "Three Caos" - there seems to be a "Seven Sons", I only know that there are Kong Rong, who gave up pears, I always heard his name as "dinosaur" when I was a child. "Dinosaurs give pears" seems to be no big deal, no matter how big the pear is, it is a bite for them.

It seems that since I heard the teacher tell their story, this person is a bad brother in my memory.Neither his father's great talent nor his younger brother's great talents.Jealous of younger brother, afraid of younger brother, disregarding brotherhood, determined to put him to death.Ruthless, mean and unkind, I hate him, absolutely.

But he wrote very good poems.This "Yan Ge Xing" is much more exciting than the "Seven-Step Poems" that we have memorized in elementary school textbooks - such a comparison is not fair, after all, "Seven-Step Poems" only has a few lines.I never thought that this person could have such a gentle and sensitive melancholy.I probably thought of myself, I have also spent a lot of time standing silently in front of the mirror, or lying on the windowsill or balcony, as if thinking about something, as if I can’t think about anything, sometimes people just can’t think for too long Or too many things, can only be quietly in a daze, not making a sound.But sometimes, I still can't help but think about it, I think about it when I see the bright moon and the breeze, I think about it when I see the floating stars, and when I think about it, I can't help crying.

But is this man worthy of sympathy?The pain he experienced, the loneliness he was doomed to suffer, was the result of what he had done.It is himself who chooses to be alone.

I don’t want to read him anymore, although the writing is great, but reading it always makes me feel a little uncomfortable, maybe a little scared, as if the flickering shadow fluctuates in the corner of the room, following me every step of the way.I tucked my feet together, fighting in vain against the rising chill, and flipped back through the book again.

I just thought that the short poem written by my brother was wrong.The poem that caught my eye was extremely long, including five full pages including notes.Fortunately, we did not use this book as a textbook, and Teacher Huang would not ask us to "read and recite the full text".But now that I have seen it, I am determined to read it, and, to understand it, to understand every word.I don't know why I'm so serious all of a sudden, it seems like I'm angry with someone, maybe it's just too cold, and I'm too bored.

"Gift to the White Horse Wang Biao".I am quite familiar with the Three Kingdoms, but I have never heard of who Wang Biao is.After reading the two lines of "Problem Solving", I realized that it was written to the White Horse King Cao Biao.The order before the poem turns out that there is a story behind this poem.To put it simply, it was Cao Zhi, his elder brother Cao Zhang, and his younger brother Cao Biao who went to the capital to meet the emperor.I know Cao Zhang, Cao Zhi's elder brother, a brave general.Cao Cao once urged him to study, but he said that he hoped to lead an army of 4 to gallop across the desert like Wei Qing and Huo Qubing, making contributions and defending the country.Cao Cao later asked him about his ambitions, and he said that he wanted to be a general. Cao Cao asked him what he should do, and he replied that he should be strong and strong, disregarding difficulties, leading the way, and clear rewards and punishments.As a father, Cao Cao appreciated it very much after hearing this.For some reason, I was deeply impressed by these things. Probably every boy has such a heroic dream. It seems that Cao Zhi also wrote a poem praising the soldiers who sacrificed their lives in the northern battlefield.It's just that there are not many people who have the ability and the opportunity to take on the ambition.After Cao Zhang set foot on the battlefield he dreamed of, he did what he said. He charged forward and was invincible. What is even more commendable is that he was not greedy for credit, won the hearts of the army, and was affirmed by his father, brother and soldiers. [[-]]
But this brave general who went forward on the battlefield died inexplicably during this pilgrimage.It should not be called "death". Note 35 says that the death of princes is called "death", not to mention that today is New Year's Eve, maybe it is better to say "old"?But he is not old, [-] years old.According to the commentary, according to "Shi Shuo Xin Yu", Cao Zhang was poisoned to death by his brother.I don't know if it's true or not, but it wouldn't be a surprise if it was true.

The three brothers came to the capital together, but when they left, there were only two of them left.What's more, the person in charge also asked Cao Zhi and Cao Biao to separate on the way back to the fief, regardless of their pain of losing their loved ones.Therefore, Cao Zhi, in grief and indignation, wrote this long poem when he parted from his younger brother Cao Biao.

"What will Taixi do? The destiny is against me. How can I live with my thoughts, and never return. The lonely soul flies to the old land, and the coffin is sent to the capital. The survivors suddenly return, and the dead body declines by itself. Zhao Luxi. Years in Sangyu, the influence cannot be recovered. Self-care is not gold and stone, and the heart is sad.” After reading this in one breath, it seems that something that has been stuck in the chest suddenly swallowed in the throat, and I have been wanting to express for a long time. What cannot be expressed was felt and written by another person thousands of years ago, and this person is the best poet of an era or even a nation.He has already turned into an inconspicuous wind and sand in history, but his poems have become gold stones that he cannot become. [5]
"The lonely soul flies to the old land, and the coffin is sent to the capital." It turns out that people are so lonely after death. The body will be buried with the coffin and forgotten for a long time.It's no wonder that "the survivors suddenly come back, and the dead die by themselves." No matter whether they are alive or dead, people are gradually disappearing irreversibly. "The year is between Sangyu", Sangyu refers to the old age, I know it.But Cao Zhang who died was only 35 years old, and Cao Zhi, his younger brother, was only in his early thirties, and now he saw the end of his life at a glance.

Read on quickly, this paragraph can't be read for too long.

"My heart is moved by grief, and I will never return to it if I abandon it. My husband has ambitions all over the world, and we are neighbors for thousands of miles. Love is not lost, and we are far away. "Seeing this, I still slow down.It turned out that the "confidantes in the sea are like neighbors at the end of the world" and "inaction is on the wrong road, sons and daughters share the towel" that I learned in elementary school are all used from the poems of the predecessors. There is another Wang Bo on the long timeline from me to Cao Zhi. .Quilt, big quilt.帱, tent. "Same quilt" means sleeping together in the same bed. "Why bother to wear the same quilt, and then show courtesy", they are no longer children, and naturally they don't need to sleep together at this age to feel the mutual affection. [6]
Still, it's better to be a kid.When I grow up, I always have my own room, and my own bed is even more essential before that.The days when we can lie together and chat until very late will only become less and less.Why do people have to distance themselves from each other when they grow up?I don't know, sometimes I want to be far away from people, and sometimes I want them to stay by my side so that I can hear their breathing in their sleep.People are so strange.

Maybe you shouldn't think so much, "Worry becomes sickness, nothing is kindness", people should be more open-minded, Cao Zhi can still see it after all.

etc.There's another sentence in this paragraph that ends with a conspicuously large question mark after a long dash.

"A hasty relationship of flesh and blood, can you not cherish hardships?" [7]
It turned out that Cao Zhi had comforted his younger brother for so long, but in the end he couldn't even convince himself.The reality of life and death makes the seemingly high-spirited sentence drop instantly, and the so-called open-mindedness is just a bleak soliloquy in the face of cruel trauma.It's no wonder that in the last paragraph of the following, you will feel that "the destiny is suspicious", you will understand "the accident is here, who can hold it for a hundred years", and you will helplessly ask "the parting will never happen, when will the hand be held" without answering, I can only wipe away my tears, put away my pen and ink, and bid farewell to my living brother.

After all, this darkness cannot be easily whitewashed.Riding horses on the battlefield and being reunited with brothers and sisters is nothing more than a vain and superfluous dream, not even a cold autumn night of parting in the wilderness, only the indifferent and impatient urging under the vigilant eyes of the messenger.In addition to the uncontrollable sadness and pain, Cao Zhi, who has been shining in the entire history of Chinese literature, only has dry tears and a dull sigh.

I dropped the book and lay down on the sandbag-like quilt, like a soldier hiding in a trench, trying to find a sense of security.My feet were cold and numb, I couldn't move, but my mind was groggy, like waking up from a dream that was too far away and cold, surrounded by endless rain, puddles that couldn't be dried, and things that couldn't be cleaned. Muddy and dirty.I kicked off my shoes, endured the numb pain, and moved my two legs completely onto the bed. I involuntarily crossed my knees and wanted to curl up, but I didn't know what to do.Eyelids drooping, drowsiness fell heavily from the ceiling, squeezing the dull brain bit by bit.

"Hey, long time no see."

A voice that is somewhat familiar and somewhat forgotten.But I'm not sure who made the sound.No one seemed to have said anything, it was just a hallucination while half asleep and half awake.But I opened my eyes.somebody is coming.The visitor opened the door at the end of the long and narrow room, and the rays of the setting sun came in, hitting his flushed face.

"Are you back?" He seemed to be asking me, without moving his face or lips.I was staring blankly, watching him walking towards me step by step.It's still the same as before, with that face, that figure, that light walking posture and the smile that always hangs on the face.

"Back. Me, and you. Is that so?"

I looked at the boy who looked exactly like me and asked.It must be him, there is only such a person in this world.

[1] The three poems here, as well as the solutions and annotations, are all from the second volume of "Selected Chinese Literary Works of Past Dynasties" edited by Zhu Dongrun, Shanghai Ancient Books Publishing House, 2002 edition.The poems in the book are all traditional characters, which are converted into simplified characters here.

[2] Vernacular translation (from Zhang Peiheng, An Pingqiu, Ma Zhanggen. Ancient Literature and History Classics Selected Translation Series San Cao Poems Translated. NJ City: Phoenix Publishing House, 2011: 24-25 pages):

The Northern Expedition climbed the Taihang Mountains, how difficult the mountains and mountains are!
The Yangchangzak road is really rough, and the wheels are broken along the way.

The wind blows the trees and rustles, and the north wind howls and howls.

Xiong Wei squatted facing me on the road, while tigers and leopards flanked the road and howled wildly.

The valley is desolate and there are few people, and the snow is falling all over the sky.

Looking up and sighing, the thoughts of the long journey are flooding.

I feel so depressed and depressed, I really want to go back to my hometown.

The deep water bridge was broken and it was difficult to advance, and the army wandered halfway.

I lost my way on the march, and there was no place to stay in the evening.

Walk and walk, the days are long, people are tired, thirsty and hungry.

Carrying the luggage while walking, chopping firewood, digging ice and cooking porridge to satisfy the hunger.

Thinking of the poem "Dongshan" deeply touched my sadness.

(Actually, I feel that Ke Ke is still a little immature, and has not yet read "Dongshan" and Duke Zhou.)
[3] Vernacular translation (from Gushiwenwang):

The autumn wind is bleak, the weather is cold, the vegetation is withered, and the white dew is frosted.

The swallows resigned and the wild geese flew south.Missing my beloved who traveled far away, my heart is broken.

Thinking and thinking, I miss my hometown.Why do you stay elsewhere for a long time?

The concubine stays alone in her boudoir, and misses the gentleman when she is sad, I can't forget it.Before I knew it, tears fell down and wet my clothes.

After taking the guqin, I fiddled with the strings, but I complained a little.The short songs are chanted softly, seemingly continuing and breaking.

The bright moonlight shines on my empty bed, the river of stars flows westward, and the worrying sleepless nights are long.

The Cowboy and the Weaver Girl watched each other from a distance, what crime do you have to be blocked by Tianhe?
[4] The poem by Cao Zhi mentioned here is "White Horse Pian". "Sacrificing one's life to go to the country's calamity, seeing death as suddenly as returning home."

[5] Here is the fifth stanza of the whole poem.

Vernacular translation (from Gushiwenwang):

What is the use of sighing?The destiny has gone against my will!How could I have imagined that the elder brother of my compatriot would never return to his body after leaving this time!The lonely soul flies in the former homeland, but the coffin is stored in the imperial capital.The surviving people will pass away in an instant, the dead are gone, and my body has already weakened by itself.A short life in this world is suddenly like dew that evaporates in the morning.The years have reached the twilight of the year of Sangyu, and the light, shadow and sound can no longer be recovered.Self-examination is not a body of gold and stone, and my heart is filled with sorrow between frustration and moaning.

[6] Vernacular translation (from Gushiwenwang):

The sadness of the state of mind has touched my body and spirit, and I hope to abandon the sadness and not repeat the sadness.A man should have ambitions all over the world, even if they are thousands of miles apart, they are like neighbors.If the love of brothers does not diminish, the separation from far away will deepen our friendship between you and me, so why do we have to sleep together in the same bed to convey our hospitality?Excessive worry leads to sickness. Do not indulge in the prison of childlike affection.

[7] How can it not make people feel sad and bitter about the love of flesh and blood that is just parted in a hurry? (Translation from Gushiwen.com)
　The beginning of the fourth volume is quite depressing...

　　The room Ke Ke lives in is a magical place in another novel. My sister mentioned that it is always locked. The two protagonists of the novel have both entered when they were dreamlike and saw their own hearts.

　　I don’t hate Cao Pi very much. Compared with other fratricide brothers in history, he is considered gentle. However, it cannot be denied that his actions hurt relatives, but sometimes there is nothing we can do about it.The story of Cao Zhang's death by poisoning comes from "Shi Shuo Xin Yu", which I personally think is unbelievable.In fact, the story of forcing Cao Zhi to write "Seven Step Poems" is the same, very naive and funny. "Seven Steps" itself has many controversies, and it may be a forgery.There are also some problems with the version selected in elementary school textbooks, and there is only such a piece of Cao Zhi's work, and Cao Pi has none.I personally have some opinions on teaching. Ke Ke's understanding is probably a "teaching accident". He regards Cao Pi as a complete villain, completely ignoring his talent in literature, and at the same time he only knows "Seven Step Poems". The work does not involve Cao Zhi's truly excellent creation.

　　However, compared to other works, "To the White Horse Wang Biao" is really a bit too desperate.Cao Zhi was depressed and unsuccessful all his life, and Cao Biao failed to die in the end. He was given to death because he was involved in the three rebellions in Huainan. "It's hard to embrace the winding path, stop driving and tell the king. That is, when the car climbs the North Road, you will always sigh and find the previous path." This is the only poem he left behind, and he gave it to Cao Zhi when he parted.

　　Don't you think that Ke Ke's description of Cao Zhang seems to have seen something similar before?
　　
　
(End of this chapter)