Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 851: The Chinese Workers Trilogy

"Yes, I received a call from Professor Yu's relatives. Professor Yu Rong's funeral will be held at Colma Cemetery No. 5 at pm the day after tomorrow. Can you attend?"

The day after tomorrow.
Already returned to China.

"Okay, I'll participate." Fang Minghua agreed.

I refunded my plane ticket and returned home two days later to pay tribute to this brave woman.

Two days later, Fang Minghua changed into a black suit, Li Li also took a leave of absence, and drove to Colmar.

Colma is a small town in San Mateo County, California, located on the San Francisco Peninsula in the San Francisco Bay Area. Since San Francisco banned burials 100 years ago in order to save land, the dead are buried here, which is called "Silent Hill".

It rained again that day.

Fang Minghua drove to Colma Cemetery No. 5 and found Professor Yu’s grave. Many people had already arrived, mostly Chinese but also white people.

Fang Minghua met Lei Dawen and his wife.

A pastor began to read the eulogy, and everyone held umbrellas, bowed their heads slightly, and observed a moment of silence facing the tombstone.

The ceremony was solemn and simple. After the pastor finished reading the eulogy, everyone laid white flowers in front of the tombstone and then left one after another.

Fang Minghua walked with Lei Dawen and his wife.

Radarwen whispered to him that the murderer of the New York shooting had been captured. He was a white youth in his twenties from Texas.

This person is a fanatical white supremacist who extremely hates Asian minorities, especially the Chinese. He was very dissatisfied with the movement initiated by Yu Rongyifang to recognize the contributions of Chinese workers in American history, so he committed this shooting.

"In fact, the California local legislature has voted to pass a bill recognizing the historical contributions of Chinese workers and plans to revise the content of the state's middle school history textbooks next year. The movement has achieved an initial victory, but it's a pity that Yu Rong didn't live to see this day."

Radarven finally sighed and said.

Fang Minghua felt very sorry after hearing this.

On the way back to San Francisco, Fang Minghua was thinking about these things while driving.

In a sense, Yu Yifang died to restore the reputation of Chinese workers' contributions to American history.

This descendant of Chinese workers' ancestors contributed their lives to the prosperity of the United States but were not recognized by the authorities. She campaigned for the glory of her ancestors, but died at the hands of prejudiced people.

Fang Minghua felt that she needed to write something more to commemorate this great woman and to present this history again.

When he told Li Li about this idea, Li Li immediately agreed: "Okay, if you write another novel, together with the previous one, it can be called "The Chinese Workers Trilogy". How do you plan to write it?"

"Not ready yet."

"I think you can write from Yu Rong Yifang's perspective, in the first person."

"In the first person?"

"Yes, your works 'Railroad Spikes' and 'Angels and Alcatraz' are actually about the difficulties and unfair treatment suffered by the first generation of Chinese immigrant workers in the United States." Li Li talked freely.

"Yu Yifang is a descendant of Chinese workers in the United States. She has good knowledge and a certain social status, which are obtained on the basis of the hard work of her ancestors. At her age, she experienced the implementation and abolition of the Chinese Exclusion Act in the United States, the joint fight between China and the United States against Japanese militarism during World War II, and the anti-China movement in the United States after World War II. In the 1980s, she advocated for the redress of the historical contributions of Chinese workers. These are all very good materials."

"If you want, you can extend the timeline to the late 19th century and early th century, when the Chinese Exclusion Act was most stringently enforced. I think it's very interesting to write about it through the first-hand perspective of a woman's growth."

Isn’t this a bit like the narrative style of “A Story of Two Cities” and Yu Hua’s “To Live”?

I think Fang Minghua’s idea is quite good.

"Okay, I'll think about it according to your ideas." Fang Minghua said.

"So if you want to write this new novel, will you not return to China?" Li Li suddenly asked.
Are these suggestions given to me in order to keep me?
Fang Minghua didn't know what to say for a moment.

"I'm just kidding. Although my cousin doesn't say it, she's definitely hoping that you'll go back soon. How can I always occupy you?" Li Li chuckled. "Go back. If you need any information in this area, send me an email and I'll help you find it."

"OK, thanks."

"Why are you being so polite to me? You make a lot of money, and many people envy you, but I hope you can write more works!"

On August 8, Fang Minghua finally returned to Xijing with his son Fang Le.

Sitting on the airport bus heading into the city, Fang Minghua looked at the scenery outside.

I haven't been back for more than a year, and this ancient city has not changed much. The mutton soup and spicy soup restaurants on the street are really eye-catching.

When they got home, Song Tangtang hadn't finished get off work yet, and they were greeted by the babysitter and an old German Shepherd dog.

Dou Miao is very old. Song Tangtang said that he just lies in the doghouse to bask in the sun every day. Today, when he saw his owner come back, he stood up with difficulty and wagged his tail.

Fang Minghua touched Dou Miao's head and suddenly felt a little sad.

We are all old.

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Fortunately, there was a sudden meow. The tabby cat Douya, who rarely came home in the past, suddenly appeared in the yard and called to Fang Minghua.

The bean sprouts and bean seedlings were brought in after Fang Minghua's family moved into this courtyard. The bean sprouts are already withered, but the bean sprouts still look lively.

As if welcoming its owner home, Douya chirped twice and then disappeared into the flowers.

The babysitter attentively took the suitcase from Fang Minghua's hand. Her son could not wait to go back to his room and take out the newly bought Sony PlayStation 2 in the United States to play "Final Fantasy 10". Fang Minghua stood in the small yard and looked at him.

There was almost no change from before I left. There were a lot of flowers and plants, and there were a few sunflowers planted in the corner, which were in full bloom.

Compared with several estates in the United States, the environment and conditions here are obviously inferior to the former, but Fang Minghua feels inexplicably happy.

This is my real home.

Just at this moment, the sound of a car was heard outside, and a few minutes later, Song Tangtang was seen walking out from the back of the garage.

A grey OL tube skirt, capable and charming.

Fang Minghua smiled and opened her arms.

"Oh, after staying in the United States for more than a year, have you learned to be as passionate and unrestrained as foreigners?" Song Tangtang said with a giggle.

But he still hugged Fang Minghua tightly.

"Okay, okay, don't let our son see it." Song Tangtang said angrily.

Fang Minghua let go, and the two returned to the living room together.

In the evening, there was oil-splashed noodles, which were specially prepared for Fang Minghua. He ate it with great relish. Of course, while eating, he told Song Tangtang what happened in San Francisco.

"Are you planning to write a novel at home?" Song Tangtang asked.

"Yes, follow Lili's suggestions and think about it carefully." Fang Minghua said.

"Don't worry, help me read the script."

After dinner, they went upstairs to the study. Song Tangtang took out a thick stack of papers from her briefcase. Fang Minghua took it and looked at the questions.

It’s Chen Kaige’s “The Promise”!
(End of this chapter)