Return To 1977 Chapter 55: Furuli

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The layout of Furuli is that small courtyards are lined up along the road. The alley is nearly 400 meters long. Zixin Road, which is almost parallel to the west, converges into a point at the end of the alley in the north. Looking down from a high place, it is right. Like a long "A" letter. If the one on the left is Zixin Road, then the one on the right is Fululi. The position of the triangle above the horizontal line of the word "A" is exactly Hong Yanwu's home.

Hong Yanwu walked on this road every day throughout his youth. Going to and from school, chasing, hiding, fighting, shopping, and going back and forth on this road countless times made him so familiar with this road that he could find his home even with his eyes closed.

The alley is still as in memory, dilapidated and deserted. Along the way, the walls passing by were very mottled. Some of the plastered walls had fallen off, revealing the covered blue bricks. Some walls and door openings had dry yellow grass attached to the roof tiles. The wooden telegraph poles all stand close to the wall, and on the few clear wires, there are only a few sparrows flying up and down looking for food. Apart from this, there was not a single passerby. In Hong Yanwu's ears, there was only the sound of his own feet scraping against the road.

This is not new. It's cooler at this time of year and people are not so willing to come out. Moreover, during work and school hours, most of the bungalow courtyards are filled with only the elderly and preschool children. It is normal for there to be only one person walking from one end of the alley to the other. When Hong Yanwu used to skip school, he was rarely seen by acquaintances in the alley. It's not like in the future, the capital is full of people, people get upset when they go out, and it's hard to find a quiet place.

Of course, there are also lively moments in the alley, but only at the end of the day. For example, in the early morning, there will be a lot of noise among people doing morning exercises, walking around, buying breakfast, and going to work. At noon, sharpening knives and replenishing pots will cause people on lunch break to express some resentment. In the middle of the night, the alley will become lively again with people coming off work, school, and grocery shopping. The only sounds left are the sounds of children chasing and playing, and the steaming glutinous rice cakes flowing out of various courtyards. The fragrance is gone.

Sure enough, after walking a few steps, several sparrows on the ground were frightened by the loud nursery rhymes and flew up to the sky, fluttering and landing on the roof and wires. Immediately afterwards, Hong Yanwu saw two boys with patches on their knees and faces as dirty as Hualihu (a native language for frogs) rushing out from a courtyard gate ahead.

The two little naughty boys, both about seven or eight years old, ran into the alley chasing and playing happily. As they ran, they yelled, "You are my soldier, follow me, not my soldier. Boom, boom, boom. Go to Nanjing and feed the eagles. The eagles haven't eaten. Send them to the Baba pit. I'm not afraid of you beating me." , I went to the capital to find the boss. The boss has a machine gun and shoots you three times in the butt. I am not afraid of you hitting me. I went to the capital to find the second son. The second son has a chicken claw that specializes in picking off your fat pants. Swish and swish. , your money goes into my pocket..."

Deeper in the alley, Hong Yanwu saw from a distance several teenage girls with braids just walking out of the courtyard. Some of the clothes they wore were baggy, some were short, and none of them fit well. I'm afraid it's because of financial constraints that I have to wear clothes passed down from my brothers and sisters, or because I'm growing too fast and my clothes haven't been updated enough.

Even though ill-fitting clothes bring great inconvenience, they still cannot stop these little girls from fully immersing themselves in the fun of rubber band jumping. After they wrapped the rubber bands around the telephone poles in front of their homes, they began to jump and fly between the two three- to four-meter-long rubber bands. While jumping and jumping, they also chirped and recited chants, as happy as a few little sparrows.

"Little leather ball, banana pear, Malan flower blooming twenty-one, two eight two five six, two eight two five seven, two eight two nine thirty one..."

The closer Hong Yanwu got, the clearer he could hear the chanting, and a warm emotion suddenly emerged. At this moment, Furuli seemed to be a time corridor condensed for thirty years, making him slow down.

What can be avoided is the years, but what cannot be avoided is childhood.

The happiness in these children is something Hong Yanwu has lost for a long time. In this alley, he used to play carefree like this. Not only did he take pictures of triangles and cicadas on this street, but he also went to the house to pick mulberries in Courtyard No. 7, shot down pigeons in Courtyard No. 11 with a bow, and even blocked the street at night to make leather. Committee chimney. The footprints of his wanderings have been left on the roof of every house in Furuli. Whether it is the rustling century-old trees in the alley or the sunlight shining on the road through the shade of the trees, they have all witnessed He can be seen attracting cats and dogs, and chasing birds and chickens.

Recalling the bad things he did when he was a child, Hong Yanwu smiled unconsciously. Those pleasures of stealing words, the excitement of mischief, and the triumph of evil smiles will always be as fresh as yesterday. And he also deeply felt that whether it was the jingle the two boys shouted just now or this rubber band jumping formula, the creator was definitely a genius. The height of this art can make all linguists, mathematicians, and logicians stunned.

As the girls laughed and laughed, Hong Yanwu went deeper and deeper step by step. Slowly, the happy songs were left behind, and in the distance, the outline of the home suddenly emerged from the fork in the alley.

The foundation of the yard is one meter higher than the road, and the familiar doorway is located on ten steps. The original brick statues of gods on the walls of the courtyards on both sides and the lintels on the door openings were all smashed during the "Four Olds" campaign, and now only the remaining traces of the original patterns are left, which can be regarded as decorations. The courtyard door is an old vermilion with mottled paint and no door knocker. It can be seen that it has experienced the ravages of time and has been included in the "Once Upon a Time" series. This is where he grew up, the old courtyard where he lived for twenty years - the east courtyard of Guanyin Yuan.

When he reached the courtyard, Hong Yanwu stepped onto the familiar bluestone steps in a few steps. The courtyard door leading to his home was within easy reach.

The sun shines on the door opening, the bright light, the cool air, the peeling red paint on the courtyard door, and the walls stained with mud and moss. These objective substances all create a familiar feeling. For a moment, it spread from the place where his big toe touched the steps, and quickly mixed into his sense of touch, smell, sight, and taste.

Hong Yanwu seemed to hear his father's cough in the yard, while his mother was holding a kettle and pouring boiling water into a thermos. The hens raised by my sister were clucking and pecking in the yard, and the open door was occasionally blown by the breeze, making a squeaking sound...

All of this is like a dream, a dream that he has been having many years ago, and now it is really in front of him.

He was crazy, standing quietly, something held him there, unable to take another step.

Hong Yanwu certainly remembers that he was born and grew up in this courtyard, and spent most of his naughty childhood and youthful youth here. In those days when he got together with his relatives, he drank the bean juice brought from the noodle shop, ate the sesame tofu fried in mutton oil, smelled the familiar smell of home, and thought about how his siblings would live in this small place in the future. Stay together forever in silence. The four children of the Hong family used to wander in and out of here, crying, laughing and playing. He, his brother and sister have raised pigeons, crickets, grasshoppers, and goldfish in this courtyard, played with kites, and played on swings... I can't tell you how many stories have been performed here, and how many emotions have been embodied.

But his relatives and neighbors could not imagine that in the last life, it was he who personally destroyed this old house and turned it into a rubble field and a desolation that could not be cleaned up.

Hong Yanwu still remembers the scene of the entire Guanyin Temple being razed to the ground by him.

It was an autumn afternoon. The house was knocked down by ruthless bulldozers and turned into broken rubble in the violent dust. Cars were passing by on the road next to it, and the sound of modernity was overwhelming. Originally this was a secluded deep alley. After the houses were demolished and the shelter was gone, it became open and direct. There was the abruptness of looking up at the traffic and the fear of being in broad daylight. The entire land appears before everyone's eyes like a young woman whose pants have been taken off, making people feel that the pace of modernization is fast, rough, and even ruthless.

Pedestrians passed by expressionlessly. And those old neighbors who have placed countless emotions on the old house can only search and smell the bricks and mounds like home-loving dogs under the scorching sun, looking for the smell of home and the things buried in the ruins. Threads about the old days. For them, falling to the rumble of bulldozers was not only their house, but an irreplaceable experience in their lives. This deep feeling has been deeply imprinted in their hearts, but it can only disappear with the demolition of the house.

They have no choice, they have no choice. It is the hot real estate industry that will turn this place into a flat ground, and high-rise buildings made of reinforced concrete will rise here.

In the collapse and shattering of the old house, he was the only one who felt happy amidst the rumble of the bulldozers. He gained huge wealth at the expense of the deep regrets of his old neighbors. In the process of forcibly driving away his two brothers, his desire for revenge was satisfied.

Now, he finally understands his own narrow-mindedness, and feels the helplessness of losing the details of his past life and the uneasiness of emotional loss. This feeling was the regret brought to him by his long-term rootless life.

Even if you gain the world but lose your home and yourself, what’s the point?

He felt really guilty about this old courtyard.

Hong Yanwu's hand touched the wooden courtyard door whose vermilion paint was almost peeling off, and he stroked it cherishingly.

At this moment, he was surprised to find that he could still clearly see the crooked words on the courtyard door that he had always remembered as a child, "Heizi is a bastard."

Fortunately, all mistakes have been corrected by time.

Guanyinyuan is still there, and his home is still there.