Night Reading | Only when I grow up, can I really understand "Back"

"Back" is a memory prose written by modern writer Zhu Ziqing in 1925, reflecting the most sincere and moving father and son affection. Many people say that when I learned this article in a middle school textbook that year, I was not particularly moved, but I also felt that some places were a bit pretentious. To read a little bigger, I feel that it is good -simple, and has a detailed inspection and expression of the Chinese -style father and son.

Back Shadow

Zhu Ziqing

I have n’t seen my father for more than two years. What I ca n’t forget is his back.

In the winter, the grandmother died, and the father's difference was also unloaded, which was the day when it was a disaster. From Beijing to Xuzhou, I planned to go home with my father. When I saw my father, when I saw the messy things in the courtyard, I remembered my grandmother, and I couldn't help crying.

My father said, "It's the case, don't be sad, but fortunately there is no way to the world!"

When he went home to sell the classics, his father returned a loss; he borrowed money to do the funeral. These days, the scenes in the family are very bleak, half of the funeral, half of their father's leisure. After the funeral, my father had to go back to Beijing to study in Nanjing.

When I went to Nanjing, a friend went to visit and stayed for a day; the morning of the next morning, the river went to Pukou and went north in the afternoon.

Because of the busyness, my father had already said that he would not send me, and called a familiar tea house in the hotel to accompany me. He repeatedly ordered the tea room, and he was very careful. But he finally didn't worry, fearing that the tea house would not be appropriate; it was quite a while. In fact, I was twenty years old and Beijing had traveled two or three times. There was nothing to do. He shouted for a while, and finally decided to send me himself. I repeatedly advised him not to go; he only said, "It doesn't matter, they are not good!"

We passed the river and entered the station. I bought a ticket, he was busy looking at the luggage. There are too many luggage, and you have to pay some tips to the footer. He was busy talking to them. At that time, I was really clever. I always felt that he was not beautiful, and he had to intervene, but he finally applied for the price; he sent me to the car.

He picked me a chair that leaned on the door; I paved the seat of the purple hair coat he made for me. He asked him to be careful on the road, wake up at night and not be cold. I asked the tea room to take care of me. I laughed at his pedantic secretly; they only recognized the money, and it was just a white support! And people like me, can't I cook myself? Alas, I think about it now, it's so smart at that time!

I said, "Dad, go."

He looked outside the car and said, "I buy a few oranges. You are here, don't walk around."

I think there are several soldiers waiting for customers outside the fence over there. When you walk over there, you must pass through the railway, you must jump down and climb up. My father is a fat man, and it will be troublesome to walk over. I was going to go, he refused to let him go.

I saw him wearing a small black cloth hat, wearing a black cloth gown, a dark green cloth cotton robe, staggered to the railway, and slowly leaving him. It was not difficult. But it was not easy to go through the railway and climb to the platform over there. He climbed his hands with both hands, and his feet shrank upwards; his obese body leaned slightly to the left, showing his hard work. At this time I saw his back, and my tears flowed quickly. I quickly wiped my tears. I was afraid he saw it, and he was afraid of others.

When I looked out again, he had hugged Zhu Hong's oranges and walked back. When crossing the railway, he first scattered the oranges on the ground, climbed down slowly, and then picked up the oranges away. When I arrived here, I hurried to him. He and I walked to the car and put the oranges on my leather coat. So the soil on the clothes was very relaxed.

After a while, I said, "I'm gone, let's letter there!" I looked at him out.

He took a few steps, looked back and saw me, and said, "Go in, no one is inside."

When his back mixed in the coming and going, I couldn't find it anymore, and I came in and sat down, and my tears came again.

In recent years, my father and I have gone to the west. His teenagers have made a living, supported alone, and did many major things. I do n’t know the old realm but so decadent!

He was sad, and naturally couldn't. In the middle of love, it is natural to go out; family chores often touch the anger of him. He treated me gradually. But in the past two years, he hasn't seen me, but he has forgotten my bad, but just remember me and remember my son.

After I came north, he wrote a letter to me, saying: "My body is safe, but my shirts are painful.

I read here, in the crystal tears, I saw the obese, the back of the black cloth cotton robe, the back.

well! I don't know when I can meet him again!

Author: Zhu Ziqing (1989-1948), prose, poet, scholar. He studied at Peking University, formerly the director of the Department of Chinese Literature of Tsinghua University, and his representative works "Hurry", "Lotus Pond Moonlight", "Back" and other prose and long poems "Destruction".

Edit: Liu Qian

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