Adventures in Heaven (novel) Zhang Baotong

preface

On that day in early April 1997, I lay down at home in the northern suburbs of Xi'an for a whole morning, and it was not until two o'clock in the afternoon that I rode a dilapidated car to the suburbs to relax. www.biquge.info At that time, I was suffering from a more severe form of viral keratitis, and my eyesight deteriorated rapidly, and I saw several famous hospitals in Xi'an, but it was not good at all. As my vision deteriorated dramatically, I became more and more worried, even a little frightened and pessimistic, fearing that this eye disease would lead to blindness in both eyes. For a person, being blind means that the world in front of them will be dark. You can imagine how depressed and irritable I would have been at that time, and no matter how well I did my work in the unit, there would be people who would find fault with me, make things difficult for me, and deliberately make me unhappy. In those days, I happened to be celebrating my fortieth birthday. When a person reaches forty and struggles all his life, he has not gained a little fame, but he has been bullied, how can he not be sad? These sorrows and irritability have nowhere to excrete, so they can only go out alone to dissipate. April is the season of bright spring and beautiful winds. Walking to the suburbs, into the green field, and being blown by the warm and clear breeze, the mood will naturally be a different scene. However, although the mood is much more relaxed, heavy pessimism and anxiety still weigh heavily on my heart.

As I rode north along an abandoned road, I heard the beautiful and sad sound of an ancient song from a grove not far from the roadside. The melody is sad and poignant, with far-reaching artistic conception, lingering, like crying, full of mystery and beautiful sorrow, making people feel as if from the ancient world, from a vague dream. Although I have never heard this song, it seems to have been silent in my heart for a hundred years, and people can't help but feel their hearts and souls drifting and passionate. I stopped, calmed down, and the beautiful dream-like music drifted in my soul like a bright spring breeze, and flowed in my blood like a clear stream.

Then, pushing the cart and looking for it, I saw a young man in disheveled clothes and with disheveled hair blowing a flute intently and excitedly on the edge of a small wood. There doesn't seem anything special about this flute. Judging from the skills and temperament of young people, he looks like a very professional and a bit decadent artist. Since I had nothing to do, I sat down beside him and listened to him play quietly.

After a while, perhaps tired of blowing, he put down his flute, looked up to the sky and sighed, and then, with a kind smile at me. I could feel his friendliness and sincerity from his smile. So, in a tone of admiration and praise, I said, "Your song is so heart-wrenching that it is simply wonderful." But this song only feels familiar, but I have never heard it, I don't know what it is called? The young man said, "This is the Heavenly Requiem of Heaven, and you have never heard of it." As soon as I heard about the Kingdom of Heaven, I thought he was talking about the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, so I said, "I have read many books about the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, but why haven't I heard of this song?" The young man smiled and said, "The Kingdom of Heaven is not the Kingdom of Peace, but a small, isolated country between the Gangdis Mountains and the Himalayas in Tibet." This is a piece that they can play for all ages. ”

Between Gangdis and the Himalayas, there is a place called the Kingdom of Heaven? How is this possible? If there really is, I'm afraid that someone will find out a long time ago, how can I wait until now and no one knows. Modern technology has become incomparably supernatural, and satellite photography can even see people's beards clearly, let alone a heavenly kingdom? I think he must have regarded some remote minority village as heaven. But I'm not a person who likes to be distracted, so I pretend to be curious, "Have you been to heaven?" He nodded, and said with great admiration, "It's a fairyland on earth." To confirm this to me, he showed me the flute. The flute is about a meter long, and it is engraved with some simple and simple patterns of flying dancers, as well as a few traditional characters that are difficult to identify. When he saw that I couldn't make out the words, he said to me, "My heart desires immortals." When he said that, I was able to recognize it. So, I took the opportunity to say, "Since you have been to the kingdom of heaven, you might as well tell us about the customs and experiences there." Of course, I didn't really believe him, but I just had nothing to do and wanted to hear how he made up stories to get by.

Young people seem happy to tell their stories. His story is plain and simple, as if it were an exotic painting, full of legend and idyll. Listening to it, I went from not believing it at all to half-believing it, so that I was gradually moved and impressed by his story, and even had a sense of being there. His story was long and needed to be told for many days, and I went to the hospital every morning to see my eye doctor, had lunch, took a nap, and hurried to the grove as if I had made an appointment, and continued to listen to his story of the kingdom of heaven. These days, we've gotten to know each other and become close friends. Each other enjoys great joy in speaking and listening, while leaving the troubles and worries of life behind. In fact, I was fascinated by his story, or rather his experience.

During this time, someone introduced me to the ophthalmology hospital of the first hospital in the city, and I asked a female doctor surnamed Zhao who treated me if I could be blind in my eyes, and she smiled disapprerovingly, saying that my eyes were indeed more serious, but I would not be blind, and then I was given an injection called predensolone cc and interferon on the conjunctiva. Soon, I felt a noticeable reduction in my eye disease and began to feel more emotional. Every afternoon, I would come to the woods in the countryside with eye drops and some food and drink to listen to him. And he seems to have arrived before me, for he had figured out the story he was going to tell last night or this morning, waiting to tell it to me. He has told me more than once that I am the only one willing to believe in him and willing to listen to him. Because he had told such stories and experiences to many people, and almost all he got was that kind of contemptuous ridicule and ridicule. Therefore, for a long time, he could only keep this matter in his heart, and rarely mentioned it to others again.

After several injections of predon CC and interferon, my eyes were much better. I know that the unit is busy at this time, but when I think of the things that have been criticized and troubled, I don't want to go to work, I don't want to look at the face that has been distorted by the desire for power. So, I continued to come to this grove every day and listen to him tell stories about the kingdom of heaven. I think my eyes got better very quickly, and in addition to the effects of the dragon CC and interferon, his heavenly story probably also played a role in the effect that should not be underestimated.

However, at the end of his story, the unit called me to urge me to go to work and asked me to write a report on the work of the workers' congress. After the report is written, it will be discussed and revised by the leaders at the meeting, and then handed over to the employee representatives for discussion, put forward amendments, and revise again. After the finalization of the draft, preparations for the workers' congress began. After the workers' congress, it will be mid-June.

That evening, as soon as I returned home from the Qingong Guest House, my wife told me that a man named Long Hua had called me several times in a row, as if he was looking for something urgent. As soon as I heard that it was Long Hua, I rode to his house to see what he was looking for me. But my wife had already finished the meal, and she insisted that I eat first, saying that I would talk about it tomorrow if I had something to do.

The next day was Sunday, and after breakfast, I rode to the young man's house named Long Hua according to the address my wife had written down. His family lives in a small private courtyard on Yarn Mill Street on Taihua Road. When I entered his house, I saw a woman in her fifties sitting on a shabby couch watching TV. I asked her where Longhua was. The old man was a little sad and angry, and said, "He's gone, and he's going to some damn heaven." I was startled and asked, "When did you leave?" The old man said, "I left at noon yesterday, saying that I would go to Xining first and then to Tibet." "He really left, so suddenly, it was a bit of a surprise to me. So, I said, "I'm afraid he hasn't even raised the money yet, right?" The old man said, "I borrowed the money from his second aunt." When I heard this, I asked in a reproachful tone, "How can you be willing to let him go?" You have to know that if he leaves, I'm afraid it will be difficult to come back. The old man shook his head gloomily, and said, "It's not a good idea not to let him go, and I don't think it's a good thing to see him distressed and troubled all day long." Forget it, he's already old. Let him be. As long as he can live a happy life, his father and I won't say anything. Listening to the old man's words, I couldn't help but admire the old man's generosity, but I was a little worried. I said, "He has fled from Heaven, and I am afraid that it will be bad luck to go again, because the people there will not spare him." "I saw that he had bought a miniature radio, a few watches, and some cylindrical pens, and said that he had given them to the king and princess." ”

When I left the dilapidated courtyard of the private house on Yarn Mill Street, I was very stunned, thinking that I might never see that innocent and simple young man again. His story and experience have taught me a lot, but I have not been able to help him when he needs me most, even if it is to buy him a ticket or to see him again and say goodbye.

In this regard, I complained to my wife, saying that she failed to convey his message to me in time, and missed my big thing. My wife said she didn't know the phone number of the place where I was meeting. So, complaining and complaining, or blaming myself. Because I'm busy, I haven't contacted him for a long time, and I don't go to the woods in the suburbs anymore. Even on holidays, he gave up his appointment with him because of all kinds of miscellaneous things. Once or twice, he even called, but I excused myself because I was too busy. Now that I think about it, I feel very regretful and unforgivable. Maybe sometimes people are like this, they don't take things seriously at the time, and then regret them afterwards. However, I understood this too late.

However, whether it is joy or distress; Whether you are lucky or regretful, as time goes by, everything will be eroded and weathered by time, and you will be indifferent in the depths of your memory. In this way, the matter gradually faded in my mind, faded more and more, and almost disappeared. Although my eye disease has recurred, my working environment has improved, so I have not taken a vacation. Moreover, because the environment in the northern suburbs is so bad, houses are built everywhere, garbage is everywhere, roads and intersections are always blocked by garbage and fences, and a pungent and unpleasant stench floats in the air all day long, so I have never been to that grove again.