When I am in the rural farming has not been news of Zhang and later moved to urban areas, the first thing I added something to his house and then knock on his door.
Sailed the seven seas?
Imagine the scene without the prior, or just a though time will not be erased, but it has been experiencing the feeling of change? Very far shore. I found Zhang's face a bit surprised: "Chen Ping, we meet ... ... is that so?"
So, Which is it? I walked all the way lax moments of tension and excitement, so the history of the beginning of a paragraph from the front.
After that, in my vegetables, selling alcohol and tobacco, in the middle of the booth opened, Zhang used to go Talk to me, but he is subject only to lock in my student days, said he had kept my notes in class with a later students to see; said he was particularly appreciative of my time to writing, pictures and music talent. Only prudent to ask a question only occasionally:
Chen Ping, the sale also ... ... you can maintain life, right?
He looked and voices are very cautious, afraid of what knocked over.
My last sale, open upstairs in the stadium, "if it" --- public telephone room. Zhang now over seventy, and one day he Tuimenzoujin years, with a smile on his face in his hand Erhu: Chen Ping, the business of busy right now you sing a "Let us double Dangqi paste "it.
My heart "bang" to leap.
Sixth grade, I was under the guidance of Zhang has been involved in a school where the "variety show" is a production team for several folks to watch the box-office scale, is a cotton ball dipped in kerosene and burning out the light of the choreography design. In this conference, I jumped a solo dance "Let us double Dangqi pulp", so called by my own choreography, Zhang erhu for me accompaniment. The clothing is required for Zhang broken bike riding his bike ran Shiji Li Road, for me to take back a black with gold trim Taozai Mongolian dress.
Zhang life has taught countless students he taught me only a year, but seem to remember many things that occur that year.
If my writing, painting and music really have so little talent, then this talent Zhang whipping me in the year, like the camel seems to grow a lot of water sprouts.
With this year's "Fu Miao encourage" the bottom, after I went into junior high school, though often bring disaster to the family of the economic distress, it will often be "Zhaopo Jia" This kind of "Chu" by the interference, and the final reading After that summer, after two days of certainty of the future "son", but I like this talent is still known for bean sprouts. I taught myself music notation, go to room East Rasi playing musical instruments, and often self-study course by the time furtively painting the picture that, while writing levels improved a lot.
The eve of graduation, Inner Mongolia Autonomous Institute of the Arts for the whole recruitment, total number enrolled 25. It is said that whenever you get into this college, students can get a monthly living allowance of eight dollars, and artistic career is very terrible.
At that time our village is still in the labor force fell in the attendance bonus, people will see eye to open a dollar. Therefore, the amount of eight dollars, in my opinion not enough astronomical geography.
I went to the examination, the examination subjects are: writing, drawing and music, which compared three are my strengths. If the test is that physics and chemistry, I was all over.
Then I heard that they have been admitted to the college news, college art teacher came to our school invigilator Chen, himself told the principals.
In all the students fill in their studies seriously volunteer table, I roll back the blanket to school children complacent, I want to go home and waiting for the offer. Then it, then I'll go to Inner Mongolia College of Art Postgraduate it!
Bloodshed's Ji Maoxin also came two: the Cultural Revolution to the country information; test information is set aside for me. I suddenly fell into a deep valley from the peak --- not a cloud in the Wushan.
In fact, when the "Cultural Revolution" has been quietly pressing over, Beijing, Shanghai and other big cities full of long sandy floor, and only a remote place like ours is far beyond the reach of the water tower.
I thus understand a truth, the fate of individual fate of the country suffered a cold, wet background, but it is a leaf light wooden boat, which sank in an instant or Andu is the other side of the rain the wind shots call the shots call the shots also fail to get it.
"Do not dream vaguely death curse Sichuan, hometown thirty years ago."
Three years later, wrapped in paper that history has long been our youth ebb away into a nightmare can not be undone. 1998 I came to the provincial capital Hohhot for work, when I suddenly thought of Inner Mongolia College of Art in a corner of the city, the heart was a red-hot iron as the "squeak" to pressure a bit less pain. So I left to do things, rushed to the car once in my dream place across the lightning.
A dress, and appearance are soil Baji's rural women, stood in the literature that bears profound artistic attainments of higher learning before.
Looked up and saw the head on the "Inner Mongolia College of Art," that those words, she had cried like rain!
In and out of many teachers and students talking, and she impulses, and she wanted to call them: I have ... ... you know what? I have had the college obtain!
Who does not know this peasant woman, her legs are still numb stop standing like a fool, when she finds that: standing here, is life.
Ming finally realized she should go in a walk, because this life can not come again.
Ring in class, a gentle man looks out from the office building.
She ran headfirst: What ... ... Thirty years ago, here there was a teacher surnamed Chen Yulin County to have proctored exam to do ... ...
Thirty years ago? That should be ... ... the last admission before the Cultural Revolution, right? I was not admitted into the school.
That is, the 1966's.
Sixty-six exams aside, I heard the batch of students enrolled are outstanding.
He sighed away, she chased the past.
I want to ask! Chen who ... ...
He died six years ago, is a death sentence --- I'm sorry, I'm going to the lecture.
He is gone, she looked at his back stood woodenly ... ...
I put "Shuganwan" into a particle, with water to give the stomach, to tell the experience of these years to listen to Zhang. He was silent for a long time before that: crop of talent was so wasted, the more a pity ... ... But Chen Ping, you do not waste time, so many years has been adhering to continue writing to learn, enough.
Enough, enough of what? Enough years, enough is enough to return his life?
"Return" is empty, because life is a dream, wake ended, Mr. Soul has already paid to the cold wind, the athletic, drifting cold.
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