"Shallot on the dew, He Yixi. Pen ~ Fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info Luxi Ming Dynasty is more falling, when will people return when they die! Every time Rong Ziyi came to the Cemetery of All Nations, a low and sad male voice seemed to echo in his ears, singing this elegy over and over again.

Yes, human life is like the dew scattered on the shallot, how easily it withers. The next day, the dew will fall, but the dead will never return!

The Cemetery is located in Xixiang, Shanghai, covering an area of more than 100 acres. It is called the Cemetery of All Nations because the people buried here are not restricted by nationality, race, or surname. There are not only high-ranking officials and dignitaries of the Qing Dynasty and the Nationalist Government, but also celebrities and progressives since the Xinhai Revolution, and even many foreigners have settled here.

The cemetery is surrounded by a small river and has a small bridge in front of the gate. Walking into the cemetery from the small bridge, you can see the grass and flowers inside. The trees beside the main roads and trails are towering and covered with greenery. There was silence all around, no human voices, only the occasional "chirping" of birds and the "rustling" of the breeze blowing through the leaves.

Rong Ziyi walked along, and everywhere he looked, there were tombstones of different materials, large and small. Some are white marble, some are granite, and there are cement tablets. Some have porcelain statues on them, some have carved portraits, and some have pictures pasted with them. Some of the tombstones were lined with flowers and tributes, while others were overgrown with weeds and the inscriptions were blurred.

A short inscription sums up a person's life. When was he born, when he died, what he did, what he left behind. After his death, who is paying tribute to him and remembering him. Rong Ziyi looked all the way, silently calculating the age of the deceased in his heart all the way, sixty-five, seventy-seven, fifty-eight......

Between the pines and cypresses, a white marble tombstone stands alone, with just a few simple black characters on it, indicating the name of the tomb owner and the date of birth and death. Although it occupies a large area, it is too simple compared to the various intricate carvings and decorations of the surrounding tombstones. But after many years, the color of the tombstone is still as white as jade, the handwriting is as new as new, and even the magnolia tree next to the tomb has grown more and more majestic, with long knots and sparse branches, which is quite quaint. It is evident that this is being maintained on a regular basis.

At this time, the branches are already full of magnolia flowers waiting to be released, and the pale yellow long-stemmed stamens in the cup-shaped white corolla are about to emerge. When the breeze blows, there is a little refreshing fragrance on the face. Magnolia flower is also called "dragon girl flower", beautiful and fragrant, and its flower language has the meaning of "repaying gratitude". This magnolia tree was transplanted from the family garden in the year my mother died. At that time, his father also asked Rong Ziyi to symbolically give him a few shovels of soil, which meant that he would not forget his kindness.

This is the grave of Rong Ziyi's mother, where she was buried 25 years ago. Rong Ziyi remembers clearly that when her mother died, there were three days before her twenty-ninth birthday. He remembers thinking about giving his mother a birthday present. He has had a hobby since he was a child, he likes to make small things like wooden dolls, which can be said to be one of his few pastimes. So, he found wood and prepared to carve a small statue in the image of his mother. As soon as he got home from school, he went into his room and sharpened and carved a whole set of small chisels, saws, and knives that his mother had bought for him. Gradually, the clothes came out, the arms came out, the eyes came out, and the mouth came out...... This piece of wood gradually changed into a human form in Rong Ziyi's hands, and became a mother's appearance, as if it had life. In his little mind, he always imagined how surprised his mother would be when she received this gift on his birthday, and how she would praise him.

It's just that the mother didn't wait for the day when the little statue was made, and closed her eyes forever. Rong Ziyi will never forget the appearance of his mother holding his hand before she died. She was speechless, her cheeks were so thin that she was sunken, and she was not angry at all, only her eyes were still shining. Her hands were a little stiff, not as soft as they used to be, and not as warm as they used to be. It wasn't until much later, after Rong Ziyi had close contact with the corpse, that he realized that the hands that had been holding him reluctantly were a pair of hands that were close to the dead. Only a dead person can have such a pair of hands that are cold to the touch. Mother pulled him, pulled him, and gradually let go of her hand. The moment she let go, the stiff but hooked fingertips, the palm that lost its original pale pink color and showed a dull ivory white palm, all told her unwillingness and reluctance. At that moment, forever fixed in Rong Ziyi's memory, he watched her and slowly exhausted the last bit of life.

In her life, my mother put all her life and all her love on Rong Ziyi. She loved him more than all the others in the world combined. Even if he is as young as him, he can feel this heavy love deeply. And as a wife, she was supposed to give half of her love to her husband. But she didn't; Or rather, he doesn't.

Rong Ziyi can see very clearly that the relationship between parents is truly respectful. They also talk to each other, but the topic always revolves around others and rarely involves themselves; They smile at each other, too, but cautiously, on thin ice, with a frost underneath their smiles. They often dress up and attend an important occasion together, two people hold hands, shoulder to shoulder, laughing, and are praised as talented and beautiful, but that is just the appearance. Just like the glances they seldom touch each other, they are even colder and stranger in life.

Rong Ziyi can't imagine how such a "loving" couple in the eyes of outsiders survived those years day after day, year after year. The way they maintain the family is that the husband focuses on his career and the wife puts her heart and soul on the children, and in this way, the illusion of a harmonious family is preserved. However, such a life is hard after all, and it has been branded with the mark of misfortune. In the end, the husband boiled his hair white, and the wife worked hard to survive to the end of her life.

After his mother left, Rong Ziyi still locked himself in the room, polishing his mother's small portrait with sandpaper day and night. He polished it smooth, took out the watercolor and outlined the facial features and hair, and even the folds on the clothes were carefully drawn with one stroke. The statue was finally completed, and it is Rong Ziyi's most successful and satisfying work so far. Thick black hair, bright and intelligent eyes, straight and beautiful nose, cherry red small mouth. Rong Ziyi thought about it for a long time, but still gave it to his father. He will always remember his father's surprised and sad expression at that time, mixed with a little helplessness to live. He looked at it for a long time, and finally put the statue in his mother's coffin. Rong Ziyi saw that his father had relaxed for a moment after doing this. He was glad he had finally gotten rid of her.

It was my mother's birthday. Since then, Rong Ziyi has never touched the puppet tool again.