The Twelve Years: Song of the Unsung Friends

Shen Xi felt his palm press his cheek, his thumbs left and right, wiping away tears under his eyes.

"It's not lucky to cry during the New Year," he said.

In such a quiet room, the breathing is full of movement.

Shen Xi went out in a hurry and didn't pay much attention to his braids. Fu Dongwen looked at her crooked braids and untied her, with long fluffy hair draped over his shoulders, he tried to braid her back. I tried it twice, but in vain, I had to give up.

"Still not working." He laughed.

Fu Tongwen called in Wan'an, "I didn't hear any firecrackers yesterday?" Shen Xi is here. It's hard to say that Wan'an is asleep because he is asleep. How can the folks at Shihuaguan have the courage to order firecrackers? Negatively replied: "Yes, I guess I forgot."

"Go get some," he said.

Wanan left.

Shen Xi's mind was ups and downs, and saw Fu Tongwen going to get the woolen suit jacket. Fu Dongwen turned his back to her, took off the coat from the hanger, and trembled in his hand.

"Let's go." He put on his shirt and left the house.

The daylight in the early winter morning fell on his face. He hadn't stayed for a few days. He inhaled the cold air steeply, and his lungs were cool, which made people awake. Tan Qingxiang had been waiting for them in the West Wing. Seeing Fu Dongwen came out, he pulled the curtain and walked out. Wan An handed Fu Dongwen an unopened box of Baizixiang and a large box of 300xiang. On the Xihong package were Shouxing Gong and sika deer, as well as a child wearing a bellyband.

Tan Qingxiang knew that he was going to set fire to the firecrackers, took out the matchbox from his arms and handed it to him.

"Go, help Third Master, Wan An is not familiar with this." Su Qing told his buddy.

The guy came up and saluted: "San Ye?"

"I'll do it myself." He said.

Wearing clothes is to facilitate arm movements.

The box was taken apart, and three hundred rings were heard, and the man eagerly swept the snow in front of the house.

Fu Dongwen bowed and spread out the firecrackers patiently.

Fu Tongwen took out a match, squatted down halfway, turned his head, and when he carefully struck the match in his palm, he glanced at Shen Xi more. As if this firecracker was just to see her off, bid farewell to the old and welcome the new, don't look back.

Finally, he retracted his gaze and went to catch the fire. There was a thunderbolt that caused the snow on the eaves to fall, and it fell on her head and shoulders.

White smoke flew up across the walls.

The benefactors who stayed over were all awakened. They were not all dressed in clothes. They came out to watch the fun with the help of women. Many of them laughed and mocked San Ye's old acquaintances.

Shen Xi stood on the threshold of the east wing, covering his ears, looking at him behind a puff of white smoke and scattered snow. Fu Dongwen didn't stand up after squatting down and lighting the firecrackers. The hem of the suit jacket draped over his shoulders swept on the steps behind him, stained with snow.

The golden sunlight dazzled the falling snow on the eaves, and he squatted half there, smiling at her as if in the flying gold dust.

This is his last thought for her in Rouge Lane.

When the firecrackers burned out and the smoke had not cleared, Fu Dongwen also handed her a letter.

I prepared it early. I wanted Tan Qingxiang to send Shen Xi to the station on his behalf today and hand it to her.

He folded the letter in half and put it in her coat pocket: "The money that Yang Yang sent out has already reached the front line."

The warmth hits, this is the only good news today.

Tan Qingxiang asked the sedan to wait outside the door, lifted the leather suitcase for Shen Xi, and stood inside the hanging door, waiting for them.

"Three brothers..." She was a poor parting, and she didn't know how to say goodbye.

"The third brother teaches you a truth," he saw through her mind, "don't say everything, the road in your heart will not be finished."

Shen Xi nodded.

Tan Qingxiang sent her out. He wanted to send Shen Xi to the station, but he didn't worry about leaving Fu Dongwen alone in Shihua Pavilion. So he put the luggage on the car, and told Wan An to send Miss Shen on the train personally before returning to report the letter.

When he came back, he saw Fu Dong literati sitting on the steps.

In the ice and snow, he was there motionless, holding his hands crossed and propped under the bridge of his nose, looking at a mess of confetti, fascinated.

Tan Qingxiang had seen this kind of Fu Dongwen once, it was the night that Fu Dongchan committed suicide.

After being with him for a long time, Tan Qingxiang would rarely stop and think about the past.

He first met Fu Dongwen at the Six Nations Hotel in Dongjiaomin Lane. It was the tallest building in Beijing. Because it was a joint venture between Britain, France, the United States, Germany, Japan, and Russia, many military and political guests, especially those who had already Those who step down will seek refuge there. That day, Fu Dongchang picked him up at the train station and drove straight to the hotel. Fu Tong'an and him were classmates, more talented than him, but gave up the opportunity to continue studying and returned to China early. Later, he wrote letters repeatedly, asking Tan Qingxiang to return to China to save the country.

In the UK, he had many opportunities to meet Fu Dongwen, but he missed them.

That night, in the western restaurant of the Six Nations Hotel, he and Fu Dong'an arrived first and sat at the dining table waiting for him. Suddenly someone stretched out a hand between him and Dong Yan and went directly to the menu on the table: "Let me see, what can I do to entertain this new friend today."

Fu Tong said with a smile: "Third brother, you came in through the back door?"

Fu Tongwen closed the menu boringly, and threw it in front of Fu Tongyan: "I just saw the person very cautiously. I was afraid that someone would reveal his itinerary and would assassinate him, so he went to the back door.

Tan Qingxiang was about to get up and was pressed by his hand: "Sit down, be casual."

That day, Fu Tongwen was on the stage of life, and Fu Dongchan was still alive. The two brothers and an outsider, he, were talking about their wine.

The restaurant of the Six Nations Hotel is full of upper-class people. There are suits and leather shoes, old-school long coats. Fu Dongwen and others who have short hair early are called "fake foreign devils" outside. The appearance and conversation of the Westerners are cultivated. The city of Beijing in the late Qing Dynasty was so out of place... Outsiders expected them to be foreign forces fighting for fame and fortune, seeking power and power, but they were a group of fools, of course, in Beijing, all over China, There are many fools like them overseas.

That year... has long been a lifetime.

This is still the Beijing City, the Shihua Pavilion, but after walking away, Shen Xi left.

It should be true: Every year is similar, every year is different.

When Shen Xi returned to his soul, he was already on his way to the south.

On the Nanjing Yangtze River cruise ship, there were many relatives of officers and family members who had rushed to Sichuan from Beijing to Sichuan, all members of the Beiyang Army. Everyone talked about war. General Cai E seemed to be a **** of war, and with his own strength, he led less than one-tenth of the forces of the Beiyang Army to withstand the attack...

When the war was involved, she would inevitably listen carefully, but later on, these officers' relatives were crying. Some people said that their family members were killed. The remaining female relatives were worried for many days, and they also cried with them.

Shen Xi rested his head on the window frame. Because he didn't sleep well last night, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep in crying.

The dream is full of flames, full of compatriots' blood.

"Yang Yang."

Shocking thunder blasted in her ears, she was forced out of her dream and looked around blankly, a stranger and a stranger.

The women who had just cried all constricted, closing their eyes and waiting for disembarkation, and one of them was feeding the child with sandwich bread. No one called her, except for the whistle on the river.

When I woke up, my eyes drifted away, and my heart was like a light on the river, floating and unstable. She touched the letter in the pocket of her coat, folded it in half, and placed it there. I left Beijing and tried to demolish many times, but failed...

Shen Xi took out the envelope and sealed it cleanly without leaving a word.

What will he write? The letter is unsealed, just open it.

Opening the first letter is a strange handwriting.

It was a letter from Tan Qingxiang to her former classmates, asking her classmates to help recommend her to work in Shanghai Hospital.

The other letter was written by Tan Qingxiang, in English.

It was a letter he wrote to his former university professor, asking the professor to recommend her to study in the UK.

Other than that, there is no third letter.

He was arranging his own future, and he couldn't use his own contacts for fear of causing her troubles, so he was all relying on Tan Qingxiang's hands. When I was in Renji, everyone would be surprised to see that she was a girl. There are very few women who can find a job in this society, and even the rich daughters who have returned from overseas are married to enjoy themselves. He knew that her way was difficult, and he also knew her ambitions and thoughts.

She managed to restrain her breathing, folded the letter with her fingers stiff, turned the envelope over and stuffed it back, and suddenly saw the tiny tiny print inside the seal:

Yang Yang loves righteousness, and the Dong language has no teeth and is difficult to lose. May Qing Peng fly thousands of miles and show his grand plans.

Tears burst into tears, and all the strength was knocked to pieces at this moment and collapsed thousands of miles away.

He remembers everything, everything she said in New York. The money he gave her was enough for her to spend her old age, but he prepared this letter because he remembered her original intention of returning home.

This was also the first time he claimed to her: Dong Wen.

After enduring tears all day and night, she could not stop her, covering her mouth with her right hand, desperately looking at the river outside the window. Shaky and floating on the water is the shadow of the moon, the shadow of the lantern, and the reflection of cruise ships crossing the river...

Third brother, third brother. Dong...

Dong language.

****

She booked a room in a big hotel in Shanghai and also booked a ferry ticket to the UK.

The whole world is at war, and the ship is to be determined.

Shen Xi waited in the restaurant, watching the endless stream of people, especially girls and women. There are young women whose husbands went to the U.S. to do business just now after their wedding, and lonely eat here; some new school girls who talked about democracy and freedom; some eloped and were arrested, sent to the countryside, and fled back to Shanghai to hang around in the hotel. A woman who talks about love with people and makes a living overnight.

Every morning, she was waiting for news that the ship was leaving, and she was afraid that news would come, so she didn't go back.

One morning in March, suddenly a young man in a suit walked into the breakfast lobby with a thick stack of newspapers in his hands: "Yuan Shikai abdicated!" There was an uproar near and far, and every table was snatching newspapers.

This kind of news comes every day, like a struggling drowning person calling for help. If you shout for a long time, the number of believers will decrease.

But it was published in the newspaper today.

After sending out the last newspaper, the young man saw that Shen Xi had a seat here, so he nodded enthusiastically to her and sat beside her: "I have abdicated, really abdicated."

Someone in the hotel lobby took the lead in cheering and applauding, and the lifeless guests found their emotional outlet and were all immersed in it.

In 1916.

She was in the Peace Hotel in Shanghai, holding a ferry ticket to Britain, waiting for her another overseas trip. The sailing schedule is unknown and the way forward is unknown, but at least there is bread on the plate in front of her.

To paraphrase his favorite Macbeth's dramatic lines:

To-morrow,andto-morrow,andto-morrow, creepsinthispettypacefromdaytoday,tothelastsyllableofrecordedtime.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, another tomorrow. Travel day after day, until the last second.

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Finally changed to cool 0.0