The literary era since 1979

Chapter 132 Shocked Shen Congwen
If Mr. Lu Xun is the first person in local literature, then Shen Congwen is undoubtedly the "Father of Local Literature".

"Border Town", a rural novel full of Xiangxi style, has always held an important position in the literary world.

There has always been a saying of "two cities" in the literary world, one is Qian Zhongshu's "Fortress Besieged" and the other is his "Border Town".

"Border Town" is just one of his more than 80 works, and Shen Congwen is also a great prose writer as famous as Ba Jin.

According to the classification of prose and verse, "Border Town" can actually be regarded as a prose narrative novel.

Therefore, when Shen Congwen heard that Wang Zengqi had a prose novel about the rural areas of western Hunan, he was very interested and asked him to send it to him.

Xiangxi is full of mountains, green hills, green waters, blue sky and white clouds. In the sunshine, the green rice fields sway in the breeze.

The yellow brick walls, the narrow bluestone paths, the dark and solid bridge in front of the village...

The breath of the Xiangxi countryside that hit him suddenly made Shen Congwen lose his mind and brought him back to his once familiar hometown.

"Teacher, what do you think?"

Wang Zengqi saw him staring at the manuscript for a long time and called him a few times.

Shen Congwen said quietly, "This Xiao Fang must have stayed in Xiangxi, right?"

Wang Zengqi nodded and said, "In order to write this manuscript, he went to a Miao village in western Hunan and lived and ate with the people there."

"No wonder, no wonder."

Shen Congwen was born and lives in Fenghuang County, which belongs to Xiangxi|Tujia|Miao Autonomous Prefecture. The Xiangxi flavor and Miao village flavor in "That Mountain, That Man, That Dog" are simply authentic.

Staring at the manuscript with a dazed look in his eyes, "I felt a little dazed when I read it, and it felt like the old village had returned."

"Your teacher has been muttering recently, 'Go back to Xiangxi, I want to go back to Xiangxi.'" His wife Zhang Zhaohe walked in carrying a tea tray.

"I've read a lot of articles in my life, but there aren't many that can bring back memories."

Shen Congwen said with emotion: "After watching it, I am more determined to go back to my hometown in Xiangxi this year."

“Is this manuscript really that good?”

"Who wrote this? Zeng Qi, was it you?"

Zhang Zhaohe became more curious when he saw that his wife, who had been wavering before, had made up her mind.

"Master's wife, you would never guess that it is a dialect."

Wang Zengqi shook his head and laughed.

Zhang Zhaohe was shocked and said, "Is it Mr. Mao's last disciple?!"

"Mr. Mao has accepted a good disciple."

Shen Congwen put down the manuscript and said, "At this age, you can write such a prose novel."

"Ai Gong commented that Xiao Fang's poems have a tendency to be prose-like, so I think he is also adept at narrative prose in novels."

"It's true that the young are formidable. Now our Chinese literary world has successors."

"So, what do you think about revising the manuscript?"

"I'm afraid it's not just as simple as revising the manuscript? Do you want me to write another literary review for him?"

Shen Congwen was very clear about the worth of his beloved disciple.

With Wang Zengqi's current status, ability and qualifications, he can completely modify and comment on this prose novel about the rural areas of western Hunan.

Wang Zengqi asked: "Teacher, what do you think of Xiaofang's talent in prose?"

Shen Congwen said that just from the long prose narrative of "That Mountain, That Man, That Dog", one can see that Fangyan is a person with unlimited potential.

"Zeng Qi, do you want your teacher to guide Xiao Fang in learning prose?" Zhang Zhaohe guessed vaguely.

"You know me. I only know how to write, not how to teach." Wang Zengqi smiled awkwardly.

"He is indeed a rare talent, but he is a disciple of Mr. Mao."

Shen Congwen glanced at him, then looked at the manuscript in his hand, with a hint of regret on his face.

He is probably the only one among the younger generation in the entire literary world who can write about the local customs and folkways of Xiangxi and write prose and novels in this way!
"Teacher, you don't know this."

Wang Zengqi said that Fangyan was Shen Yanbing's last disciple, but he also combined the strengths of hundreds of literary masters and had at least three teachers who knew him by the same word.

My half-teacher in novels is Li Yaotang.

In poetry it is Ai Qing, in drama it is Wan Jiabao.

Strictly speaking, the founder and first director of the Literature Institute was Ding Ling, who can also be considered the principal of the dialect school.

"What are you doing?!"

Shen Congwen and Zhang Zhaohe were not shocked.

"Teacher, the future literary world will not only need successors, but also leaders who can lead the revival of Chinese literature."

Wang Zengqi hinted vaguely that Fang Yan was very likely to be the commander-in-chief of the new literary army in the country, Marshal Fang!

"Yes, after the publication of Lurking, some people in our editorial department have been saying that the literary world needs 100 'dialects'."

Zhang Zhaohe, the editor of People's Literature, sighed, "Guangnian, Feng Mu and other comrades also think highly of him."

"Not long ago, he caused quite a stir in the drama. You two should have heard about it, right?"

Wang Zengqi said secretly that the only weakness of the dialect nowadays is probably in prose, but it is so talented!
"Some other time."

Shen Congwen pondered for a while and said, "Wait until I finish revising the manuscript, and then ask Xiaofang to come home."

…………

Fangyan never expected that Wang Zengqi would actually ask him to visit Shen Congwen together.

What was even more unexpected was that Wang Zengqi said that they could not go empty-handed and must bring some gifts. As a result, the two of them appeared at the Laodongdan Vegetable Market.

"Mr. Wang, this is the gift you're talking about, isn't it?"

Fangyan looked at the crowd and didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Of course not, vegetables and meat are just raw materials."

Wang Zengqi’s gift was to cook for Shen Congwen at his home.

"Hehe, then I am lucky today."

Fangyan grinned and said, "They say you are a real gourmet, the best eater among writers, and the best writer among chefs."

"That being said, I can only cook a few side dishes."

Wang Zengqi picked and chose, "For example, this red radish, also called autumn radish, is only at its best during these few days of the year. A few days earlier, the radish is not well grown, has less moisture, becomes hard, and is not sweet. A few days later, it becomes overgrown and becomes bran. What do you think is the best way to cook it?"

"How about we have a 'gathering of heroes'?"

"A gathering of heroes? What kind of dish is this?"

"Just mix green radish, white radish, water radish and red radish together." Fangyan smiled.

"Haha, this dish is not bad, but the name is too elegant." "There is a vulgar one, called 'Radish Meeting'."

"'Radish Meeting', what a vulgar name for this dish!"

Wang Zengqi shook his head and laughed: "But the season is wrong. After the beginning of autumn, we should eat less cold dishes. This time we will make scallops and radish."

"Got it."

Fangyan followed beside him, carrying a basket.

Wang Zengqi is just like an ordinary old man, chattering about the daily necessities of life, and his words reveal the taste of life.

Soon, the basket was filled with home-cooked dishes such as radishes, tofu, chestnuts, potatoes, and chives, as well as local specialties such as rice noodles and Gaoyou duck eggs that Wang Zengqi brought from home.

The two men carried things and came to Shen Congwen's house.

"Teacher's wife."

The person who opened the door was Zhang Zhaohe, whom Fangyan had met before in the editorial department of People's Literature.

"How is the teacher's health?"

Fangyan followed Wang Zengqi into the house.

"I'm fine."

Shen Congwen walked out of the study and said, "I just checked it the day before yesterday, and there's nothing serious wrong with me." After saying that, his eyes fell on Fang Yan.

"You are Mr. Mao's disciple, Xiao Fang, right?"

"Hello, Mr. Cong Wen."

Fangyan bowed politely.

After Wang Zengqi introduced them to each other, Shen Congwen and Fangyan started chatting, "Let them do their thing, you come with me into the house."

Fangyan glanced at Wang Zengqi and saw him walking towards the kitchen with a smile on his face, under the pretext of cooking.

Shen Congwen patted Fang Yan on the shoulder and said, "This disciple of mine has a special liking for 'eating'. When he was in Southwest Associated University, he studied for four years and ate for four years. Even when the Japanese planes were circling over Spring City and teachers and students were fleeing to the suburbs, he was still eating snacks and running in the opposite direction."

Fang Yan asked curiously, "Did you run in the wrong direction?"

Shen Congwen laughed and scolded, "He said there are pine nuts in the woods over there that we can eat. Even if we get killed by the bomb, we'd rather die of starvation."

Fang Yan suppressed his smile and followed Shen Congwen to the study.

Under the carved wooden window with Xiangxi style, there are rattan chairs and a zelkova square table. The pens on the table are 1.3 cents primary and secondary school writing pens, and the paper is only 1.5 cents Korean paper for pasting windows. The ink is ink that has been precipitated and then added with water, so it has no luster and can be called dead ink.

"You are much better than I was when I was young."

Shen Congwen sat down.

Fangyan looked surprised, and upon asking I learned that he was talking about the time when he was a teacher at Yan University. It was his first time to give a lecture on stage, and he was so nervous that he stood there blankly for 10 minutes, not knowing what to say.

I finally opened my mouth, but I finished my speech in 10 minutes. I was embarrassed again. Finally, I wrote on the blackboard in desperation: "This is my first class. I am afraid of seeing so many of you."

"Zeng Qi said that your nickname is 'Yan Zi', 'Yan' means rock, and your personality is indeed as steady as a rock." Shen Congwen handed over the manuscript, secretly revealing his willingness to guide the prose.

Another "one-word teacher"!
Fangyan was greatly surprised and could not find any reason to refuse.

Afterwards, I read it from beginning to end as he suggested. There were quite a few changes, but they were indeed precise and accurate.

"It's a pity that I haven't been to the Miao village you wrote about. It must be very beautiful." There was a hint of regret in Shen Congwen's tone.

Fang Yan said: "I actually took quite a few photos of that Miao village."

"photo?!"

Shen Congwen was very interested: "Do you have it with you?"

Fangyan took out the fourth issue of "October" magazine from his bag, and the photo was on the page of "Autumn Memories".

Shen Congwen was flipping through the black-and-white photos. Even though they were not in color, he still looked at them with great interest, and a look of nostalgia flashed in his eyes.

Relying on these photos, Shen Congwen began to guide Fangyan in revising and polishing the description of the scenery in "That Mountain, That Man, That Dog".

In this way, it is even more poetic and picturesque, just like an ink painting of the Xiangxi style.

“This article, Autumn Memories, is very well written.”

While Shen Congwen was carefully revising his dialect, he casually flipped through "October".

"This article was written by my friend, Shi Tiesheng."

Fang Yan said, "Mr. Cong Wen, I have an unwelcome request."

Shen Congwen seemed to see through his thoughts, "Do you want me to comment on this essay as well?"

Fang Yan nodded solemnly, "Is it okay?"

Shen Congwen showed a surprised look, "It seems that this 'Tie Sheng' is a very good friend of yours."

Fangyan smiled knowingly: "Very good friends!"

At this moment, Wang Zengqi's voice came from outside the house.

"It's time to eat, it's time to eat."

The table was full of dishes, including fried scallops with radish, mixed shepherd's purse, mixed spinach, and stuffed fried dough sticks...

The most delicious main dish is carp tofu. The tender carp meat is paired with fragrant soup and bright red pepper shreds to whet the appetite.

Finally, take a bite of the fresh tofu and let the delicious flavor blend and stimulate in your mouth.

What a taste!
Fang Yan ate two large bowls in a row and glanced at Wang Zengqi: "Mr. Wang, why don't you eat?"

Wang Zengqi explained that cooks usually eat very little. After the dishes they cooked are served, they are accustomed to tasting each one with two chopsticks, and then sit down to smoke, drink tea or wine, and watch the guests eat.

Shen Congwen said: "From this point of view, people who are willing to cook for others are less selfish."

"That's what the teacher said."

Wang Zengqi said, "Xiao Fang, how does it taste?"

"This is really 'food from all over the world, but a bowl of worldly fireworks in your hand'." The dialect almost blurted out.

"Xiao Fang's words touched upon the essence of eating."

Wang Zengqi was surprised and delighted, and then shared with everyone the story of “Radish Meeting”, which is spoken in the local dialect at the vegetable market.

"Since Xiao Fang has such insights on food, why not start with this aspect as the subject of the first essay?"

Shen Congwen put down his chopsticks and looked over.

“Write essays about eating and food?”

The documentary subconsciously came to Fangyan's mind.

(End of this chapter)