Xie Qingyuan lives in Dafudi's backyard.

Yuan Qiuhua walked through the lobby, across the patio, bypassed the aisle, and entered the backyard.

The courtyard hangs a black lacquered wooden plaque, carved with the name of the courtyard that flows with gold and color, "Ji Lanxuan". There is a couplet engraved on the red lacquer doorpost, there is no desire, there is no desire, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and the fresh fragrance of flowers flies into the desk poem; there are gains and losses, leisurely strolling, and a thousand colors of pure flow out of the piano sound.

The courtyard is brick and wood structure, the foundation is made of stone, the face width is three rooms, the depth is five rooms, the top of nine ridges and four slopes, the black tile is covered, and the outer corridor under the eaves is ring. The verandah is spacious and bright, it is both a corridor and an aisle, it is built around the eaves of the courtyard, the bucket type structure is worn, the column is erected as the skeleton, the arch beam is transversely the top support, the column is on the sandalwood, the cloth rafters are on the sandalwood, and the red tiles are paved on the rafters. There are no walls and no doors and windows on three sides of the corridor, the corridor columns are separated and continuous, and the railings are divided and unbounded, forming a shadowless wall, which looks like a transparent city, creating a verandah with winding paths and secluded paths, and changing the scenery with each step. Liang Tan doors and windows, bucket arch cornices, carved all kinds of birds and beasts flower patterns, relief beautiful, openwork exquisite, set off each other, sparse and dense, walking in the meantime, there are paintings in the painting, there are scenes in the scene, just like being in the fairyland of the world.

The original design of the backyard was set as a garden, a study, and a pavilion pond inside. In the middle is the lotus pond, surrounded by flowers and trees, embellished with rockery lake stones, bamboo bushes and vines, dotted with flower bonsai, swing rocking chairs, paved with cross roads, pebble paths. The tranquil and leisurely owner has built a quaint and quiet, clean and clear paradise.

There are six pillars octagonal pavilion built in the center of the pool, and the first pillars on both sides are carved with couplets: the scenery is boundless, Mo Dao is idle and greedy for good scenery; the journey is not far, why not take a break and then move forward, and the horizontal criticism says: Ah Mida Buddha. The pavilion has a stone table and stone benches. Red columns, green tiles, white tables and white stools, white marble floors, black lacquer guards, pavilions of bluestone block piers, embedded in the rippling blue waves, lotus leaves, white lotus blooming, pink lotus buds, bees and butterflies flying, birds and birds chirping between the ponds, like the eyes of the sky, blinking, blinking, like the eyes of the dragon, turning and turning, like the heart of people, jumping and jumping.

The wooden plank bridge on both sides of the river is connected by a ruler-shaped detour forward, and the beauty between the bridge pillars leans, from the waist of the wooden railing, through a whole log, forming several long benches, for people to sit and read, recite chants, listen to the wind and admire the moon, and lie down drunk and rest. The top of the bridge is the top of the herringbone slope bridge, covered with black tiles, shading from the sun and rain, and the breeze blows the sleeves. The wind and the sun are beautiful, the autumn is high and cool, it is an excellent place for literary friends and poets, knowing that they have gathered, drinking and writing poems, painting and practicing calligraphy, chanting and singing, spring can see the sharp corners of the small lotus, dragonflies stand on the head, summer can observe the flow of fireflies, the crescent moon hangs obliquely, the stars twinkle, the autumn can see the rain sprinkled lotus pond, lines, floating bubbles, winter can see the snow drifting in the world, there is no trace of falling water.

There are three rooms above and below the pond. The upper three rooms are now the kitchen, the pig pen and the latrine, the chicken coop and the firewood room, and the lower three rooms used to be the gatehouse, the scholar's room, the gardener's room, and now the grain storage room, the farm tool room, and the utility room. There are five wings on the left and right, five on the left, three for the master's bedroom, one for the reception room, and one for the dormitory, and five on the right, one for the study, two for the library, and two for the reading room. The library is lined with bookshelves, rows of books, and layers of books. The reading room has newspaper clips, periodical cabinets, and a row of desks and a circle of benches by the windows on both sides, for those who like to read, where they can read the collection of books from the family for generations, and the books are divided into categories, the left room is adult books, and the right room is children's books, all of which are free to the clansmen to borrow.

There is a wooden sign hanging on the top of the door of the reading room, called "Su Xin Zhai", and the left and right are supported by wooden boards. Lianri: Not because of poverty and trivial, why should the room be big, not for no one is not fragrant, the fragrance of flowers is not much.

Yuan Qiuhua explained the intention of visiting, and Xie Qingyuan's wife led her across the wooden bridge, through the pavilion, along the corridor, and up the steps to the study, where she met the patriarch for a detailed discussion.

Walking and living all the way, Yuan Qiuhua watched and appreciated, the dust did not enter, the smoke did not smoke, and it was refreshing and cool. Not far away, there came a melodious and tactful piano music, the clear sound is slow, slowly relaxed, soft and bright, pleasant and moving, like the flow of a clear and clear mountain stream, tinkling, gurgling. At this moment, she is in a quiet and elegant state, far away from the bustling and noisy hustle and bustle, broken and messy, and can't help but hold her voice and rest, listen and imagine attentively, the spring field, the green trees in the mountains, the tactful bird cry, the breath of nature, the beauty of life, and the overflowing poetry, let the sparkling piano sound melodiously flow through the dusty heart, and bathe in the sound of heaven and earth.

The door frame of the study is pasted with a handwritten red paper couplet, which says: The matter is hot and cold, and the hot and cold is the way of the world.

In the room, each wall is placed with a four-legged bookcase, the same width as the wall, the same height as the room, equipped with a glass door, like a floor-to-ceiling window, the cabinet is divided into fifteen grids, the grid is full of books, and the thick patent leather spine of bricks is neatly facing outward, like a wall made of books. There is an aluminum alloy herringbone ladder in the corner.

Yuan Qiuhua passed by the window, she glanced at it, and there was a carved large board table and mahogany circle chair by the window, which was antique. Set up a copper incense burner on the desk, the Buddha incense curls, the wind blows endlessly, and the wind shakes itself without wind, adding a mystery to the room. Xie Qingyuan is in the study, holding a brush, practicing calligraphy, and his left and right hands are piled up with ruler-high books, and the cultural flavor is full of flavor. There is a pen, ink, paper, and inkstone on the desk of the desk, a book of words and stickers spread out, and a jade paperweight is pressed in the middle of the seal, and there is a magnifying glass on the side of the post.

He is tall, thin, 1.78 meters, nearly 60 years old, with a long face, a large mouth, a square nose, thick earlobes, and a goatee on his chin. All year round, either wearing Tang costumes, or wearing Hanfu, autumn and winter is a sky blue cardigan coat, cotton green pants, black cloth shoes, spring and summer is pure white silk pants, paper fan shakes, sunglasses push forehead, walking in the streets and alleys, like a fortune teller, appearing in the cultural center, lupine cloth clothes, hand cloth shoes, polite and elegant, like a literary and artistic worker, holding a thread bound book, walking in the countryside, shaking his head, reciting poems, and like a private school gentleman.

The feather fan in the hand, red sandalwood, silk fan, embroidered with traditional Chinese flowers and moire patterns, antique, elegant and generous. On the fan, there are "Six Repentances" written by the literary master Shen Congwen, official and private songs, regretting when they are lost; they are not frugal when they are rich, and they regret when they are poor; they have learned a lot of art, but they regret when they are outdated; they regret when they see things when they don't learn them; they regret when they are drunk; they regret when they wake up; they can't rest and regret when they are sick.

Master Shen's calligraphy is a priceless treasure. Xiangyang Lake, which is about 20 miles away from the old local government office, is the location of the former Central 57 Cadre School. In 69, Shen Congwen was sent from Beijing to the Wuqi Cadre School to participate in labor and reform his thinking. It is rumored in the local area that the Pekingese, wearing Western clothes, wearing watches, living well, eating well, want to go back to Beijing, but can't go back. At that time, the more popular knowledge there was, the more reactionary it became, and the intellectuals were either rightists wearing hats, or stinky old Jiu who were rectified, belonging to the category of bulls, ghosts, snakes, and gods. The local village cadres and residents have a lot of contempt for the cultural people who have been "assigned" and "exiled" to the cadre schools, and there is no shortage of robberies in their behavior, and there is no shortage of robbery and robbery from time to time. Shen Congwen is in his old age, frail and sickly, and is responsible for guarding the vegetable garden, blasting chickens, driving pigs and cattle, and preventing people from touching melons.

Xie Qingxi studied at the regional normal school and went to apprentice. He relied on his family history, quick thinking, knocked on the door, and then used sincerity and studiousness, diligence and progress, and formed a relationship, and then because of like-minded interests, he cherished each other, and established a friendship with Shen Congwen. In the 70s, Shen Congwen moved to Shuangxi Town, 30 miles away, and settled in a dilapidated classroom in an abandoned elementary school. After graduating from Xie Qingxi, he was assigned to teach in a primary school in his hometown, and he still visited the teacher on time, brought some food and clothing, helped with the work, and renovated the roof. Shen Congwen's angina relapse, and he also carried him to the hospital for treatment and bed care. When his illness stabilized, he took his teacher to his home to recuperate and serve him carefully, just like a son taking care of his father. During this period, Shen Congwen was in a good mood and left Mobao. After recovering from his illness, Shen Congwen returned to Beijing, and then recommended Xie Qingxi to go to Wuhan University for further study.

The son pestered Yuan Qiuhua and made noise, wanting to climb rockeries, swinging, and picking flowers.

Xie Qingyuan's wife bent down and hugged him: Good grandson, grandma will take you to eat candy, okay?

After his son left, Yuan Qiuhua knocked on the door three times.

Xie Qingyuan opened the door and let her into the study.

Xie Qingyuan wore a gray cotton robe, a cotton horse coat, and cotton shoes, and looked at the clothes of his ancient literati. Yuan Qiuhua has long heard the clansmen say, in fact, the patriarch talks funny, knows the funny village dialect of the market, and understands the witty words of Shilin, is good at enlivening the atmosphere, is a happy person, laughs everywhere he goes, and is popular wherever he goes. He is very funny and funny, likes to play haha, frolic, funny and funny, serious words, witty words, and hidden in playful jokes. The words are light and meaningful, I didn't think at the time, one day because of something, I suddenly woke up, it turned out that he had something in his words, there was something in the matter, it turned out that there were people in people, there was a sky outside the sky, I understood that he was implicitly referring to something, and he smiled, and admired it more and more.

Radiant, refreshing, and truly different. Yuan Qiuhua also knows that the more he lives, the more informal he becomes, the older he gets, the more naughty he becomes, laughing with his juniors, no matter how big or small, no matter how big or small, he doesn't talk about dignity and humility, and he is more like an old naughty boy. Although in an informal place, he is an old naughty boy, and when he arrives at a serious occasion, the patriarch begins to ask questions, but he is majestic, with a unique majesty, and a boldness. His motives for judging things are quite pure, and he has always defended the good people who do good deeds, and severely punished the bad people who make trouble, and he is not afraid of offending the villains, even if he offends a large group of people who are related to his relatives, he must be impartial, uphold justice, maintain the public interest, and maintain family order.

The dark willows are like smoke, the twilight rain is cold, the curtains are half rolled, the flowers and rain are scattered, the wind is tentatively probing in front of the half-hidden window, and occasionally turning the pages of the books spread out on the table. In the room, a pot of charcoal fire is burning vigorously, red, warm, hot, and the room temperature is pleasant.

Xie Qingyuan moved the chair and put it by the brazier, waved his hand, and motioned for Yuan Qiuhua to sit down and roast the fire.

Yuan Qiuhua looked around, as far as the eye could see, there were books on all sides, she couldn't help but be overjoyed, stretched out her hand to flip through it: Wow, wow, like a library, tsk, there are so many ancient books!

Xie Qingyuan said: Haha, when a book lover sees a book, it is like a drunkard smelling the aroma of wine, his eyes are burning, and his eyes are shining with the light of a thief's eyes!

Yuan Qiuhua was stunned: Seeing these ancient books that I can't buy, I just want to steal them. Let me tell you a little trick, when I was in Wuhan, I often went to the ancient bookstore on Lanling Road to be naughty, and when I encountered an out-of-print and couldn't afford it, I took an old book with a cover in my hand, secretly put the cover on the out-of-print, put the old book back on the shelf, and then held the out-of-print in my hand, and swaggered out.

Xie Qingyuan clapped his hands and laughed: You kid, you are indeed naughty and eccentric, but Kong Yi has already said, "A reader is not a thief." These books of mine are open to the clansmen for free, you don't have to be scheming, you can borrow and read which one you like, and remember to return it.

Yuan Qiuhua closed the book at hand: Today, the contemptible people borrow this vertical version of the traditional Chinese, classical Chinese "Tao Te Ching", is it feasible?

Xie Qingyuan said: Why can't it be done? Good goods meet people who know goods, fortunately and happy! Good books meet people who love books, and they are also happy!

Yuan Qiuhua said: Reading, the more the merrier. I'm insatiable about borrowing books, and as long as you're not annoyed, I still need to bother from time to time.

Xie Qingyuan said: I warmly welcome, there are also "Kangxi Dictionary", and "Siku Quanshu", as long as you need it, I will definitely borrow it!

He doesn't like to read modern literature, especially literature published in magazines and newspapers, thinking that it is a mess, popular nonsense, and some boring sour flatulence, which is better than reading it, and it will turn people's brains into pig's brains. Who is really doing learning? Playing life, playing literature for themselves. His point of view is that only classical literature exists, and what is popular is usually vulgar, an uneducated nouveau riche counting money, flaunting all the benefits of money, and there is no literature at all.

He said, gesturing to the bookshelves. The neatly arranged bookshelves mark the coldness, showing the silence, it is elegant, it is clean, and it is full of the smell of books.

Xie Qingyuan said: In today's world, business is cheap, but it is a pity that there are fewer and fewer people who love to read and study, and the out-of-print is piled up in the cupboard, like a coffin, and buried here.

Yuan Qiuhua said: Maxima often exists, but Bole does not often have, therefore, the soldier dies for the one who knows!

Xie Qingyuan said: I am old, these precious ancient books will either be donated to the library, or entrusted to the people who cherish books in the clan, so as to continue to pass on the trend of free borrowing!

Yuan Qiuhua said: It is better to be happy alone, it is better to be happy with everyone, individual skills are limited, and it is not as great as the power of the country, so it is better to donate it to the library.