Explore Chapter 60 of 'Spring Ming Outer History' with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
Now, Yang Xingyuan left Daoquan Temple and, on his way, recalled Wu Bibo's words, feeling that life in this world is like a dream. At the Guild Hall, the night passed without incident. The next morning, he rose to find the weather bitterly cold. Looking out the window, he saw the courtyard covered in snow, with snow piled a foot thick on the tiles, turning everything white and blanketing the entire yard. Yang Xingyuan thought to himself that he remembered when he returned to the Guild Hall the previous night, although it was windy, it hadn't snowed. Yet in just one night, this heavy snowfall had occurred. No wonder there was no warmth in the room. It turned out the doors and windows had blown open. So he quickly got up, closed the windows, lit a brazier, and warmed himself for a while before the chill dissipated. At that moment, someone outside the courtyard called, "Brother Xingyuan! Are you up?"
Yang Xingyuan recognized it as Wu Bibo's voice and said, "Please come in. I'm already up." Wu Bibo walked in and said, "Last night, a heavy snow fell, three or four feet thick. This morning, the streets are full of slush, making it hard to walk. I had made an appointment with a friend to go ice-skating at the Amusement Park, and I couldn't break my promise, so I got up early. But once I stepped out the gate, the snow on the streets was piled high. I had to turn back and thought I'd invite you to go treading snow at Central Park." Yang Xingyuan said, "I thought you had some urgent matter, braving the snow like this. So it's just to invite me for fun. Treading snow in search of plum blossoms, with an elegant companion like you, isn't bad at all. Let me drink some water and wash my face, then we'll go." Wu Bibo said, "No need! I've already had the attendant brew a pot of tea here. You can have a cup and go. Washing your face isn't necessary." Yang Xingyuan laughed and said, "Alright, I'll obey. I won't wash my face."
So he drank half a cup of hot tea, found an old pair of fur-lined shoes under the bookshelf and put them on, then draped a thick woolen overcoat over his shoulders and raised the collar. Only then did he go out with Wu Bibo. At the entrance of the hutong, they saw a vast expanse of white snow, with not even a rickshaw in sight. Wu Bibo said, "Look, what heavy snow. Should we go back?" Yang Xingyuan said, "We're both wearing leather boots. What's there to fear? Let's hold hands and walk." So the two supported each other and trudged step by step through the snow. When they reached Central Park, the snow fell even heavier. On the pine branches, the accumulated snow formed clusters like white cotton balls. In the distance, the flat ground at the entrance of the Altar of Land and Grain was covered with even thicker snow. Strangely, for such a large Central Park, there was no one else playing. They entered the garden. The stone-paved path was completely buried in snow. Treading on the loose snow, they arrived before the "Arch of Justice Triumphant" memorial arch. Both couldn't help but exclaim in surprise, "Oh my! Where is this? How did we get here?" It turned out that beside the arch, there was a small earthen slope covered with cypress trees. Usually, no one came here, and on this snowy day, it was even more deserted. The snow on the cypress branches, blown by the wind, scattered like powder, showering down and covering them entirely.
The two stood under the arch for a while. Wu Bibo said, "The snow is getting heavier. Let's go back and come again tomorrow." Yang Xingyuan said, "Going back would be boring. Why not visit a couple more places?" Wu Bibo said, "Then let's go to the 'Laijinyu Pavilion' to sit and have a cup of hot tea." Yang Xingyuan said, "Good!" So the two treaded snow to Laijinyu Pavilion. The terrain here was high, offering a view outside the garden. All they saw was a vast whiteness, with buildings and trees invisible. In the sky, the snowflakes fell thick and fast, like torn cotton and scattered floss. Following Wu Bibo's suggestion, they were about to have tea here. Yang Xingyuan said, "No hurry. Let's go to the rockery at the back and take a look." With that, he walked backward. At the entrance of the rockery cave, Wu Bibo said, "No one comes here even more. Let's go in and see if there are any wild beasts." Yang Xingyuan laughed and said, "On such a cold day, even wild beasts fear the cold. They definitely won't come here."
As they spoke, they entered the cave. The cave was originally dark, and with the entrance blocked by snow, it became even darker. Walking in, they couldn't see their hands in front of their faces. Wu Bibo said, "Oh no! We've taken a wrong turn. How did we end up in this dark place?" Yang Xingyuan said, "Hold onto me. Don't be afraid." So Wu Bibo grabbed Yang Xingyuan's lapel with one hand and stepped inward. After about a dozen steps, Yang Xingyuan suddenly stopped and said, "Touch this. What is it?" Wu Bibo felt with his hand-it was a cold stone. He said, "It's a stone." Yang Xingyuan said, "Let's follow the stone. We won't go wrong." So the two groped forward again. After another seven or eight steps, Yang Xingyuan let out an "Oh no!" One foot had already plunged into water. Wu Bibo asked in alarm, "What happened?" Yang Xingyuan pulled his foot out and said, "How is there water here? My leather shoe and sock are soaked." Wu Bibo said, "How can we stay in this place? Let's get out quickly."
The two then turned around and headed outward. Little did they know the stone cave was spiral-shaped. Entering was easy, but exiting, they couldn't find the way for a moment. After walking for a good while, they were still inside the cave. Wu Bibo grew anxious and said, "We're going to die here today. What should we do?" Yang Xingyuan said, "Don't worry. The cave can't be that deep. We only came in about twenty steps. Now, even if we can't get out, I reckon we've just taken a few extra turns. Let's find the entrance quickly." After a few more steps, Wu Bibo suddenly saw a sliver of white light ahead and pointed, "Good! Good! Isn't that the entrance?" The two headed straight for the white light. When they reached it, it turned out to be a crack in the rock, about an inch or two wide. The snow light from outside shone through this crack, so it appeared bright. The crack was only about two feet long. How could anyone squeeze through? Wu Bibo said, "This isn't the door. Let's keep looking." The two felt along the stone wall again. Suddenly, Yang Xingyuan touched a wooden frame and said, "This must be the door." He pushed with his hand, and the door creaked open. It turned out this stone cave originally had two wooden plank doors that were closed. Earlier, when they entered, they hadn't felt the doorframe, so they had walked straight in. Now, having found it, they pushed it open and indeed exited the cave.
Once out of the cave, both let out a sigh of relief. Wu Bibo said, "My goodness! We finally made it out." Looking at themselves, they were stained with water spots. Yang Xingyuan's half-length fur robe was also damp. Wu Bibo said, "Let's hurry back. In this state, can we still play?" Yang Xingyuan also felt somewhat cold and agreed. They walked out of Central Park. The snow was still falling heavily. There were no rickshaws on the street because the snow on the ground was already seven or eight inches thick, making it impassable for vehicles. The two had no choice but to walk back through the snow. After a while, the snow grew heavier. The wind blew the snow against their faces, cold and painful, making it hard to even open their eyes. Yang Xingyuan said to Wu Bibo, "At this rate, when will we get back? We need to think of a way." Wu Bibo said, "What way? Unless we meet an acquaintance and hitch a ride on their vehicle."
Just as they spoke, a car horn sounded from behind. Wu Bibo turned to look-it was a dilapidated sedan. He waved and called, "Hey! Where are you headed?" The driver stopped the car, stuck his head out, and asked, "Where are you going?" Wu Bibo said, "We're going to Xianglu Camp." The driver said, "One dollar, and I'll take you." Wu Bibo said, "With such heavy snow, it's hard to drive. It's fair for you to ask for more money, but one dollar is a bit too much." The driver said, "If you don't want to ride, don't. I have business to attend to." With that, he was about to drive off. Yang Xingyuan said, "Forget it. One dollar it is." So the two got into the car. The car lurched left and right in the snow, moving extremely slowly. With great difficulty, it finally reached Xianglu Camp. The two got out, and Yang Xingyuan gave the driver a dollar. The driver held the money in his hand, smiled, and said, "This snow is really heavy. The car is hard to drive. How about you give me another two hundred coppers, sir?" Yang Xingyuan said, "You're too greedy. With such a slow car, we're already letting you rip us off. And you want more?" The driver said, "Don't be angry, sir. I have no choice. My family is waiting for rice to cook." Seeing his pitiful plea, Yang Xingyuan added ten copper coins. The driver thanked him and drove away.
The two returned to the Guild Hall. Their clothes were wet, so they quickly changed and warmed themselves by the fire. Yang Xingyuan said, "Today is really unlucky. We spent money and suffered hardship. If we had known, we shouldn't have gone out." Wu Bibo said, "What's this? When I was studying at school, I used to have snowball fights with classmates. The snowballs hitting our faces hurt more than knife cuts." After chatting for a while, the snow gradually lessened. Wu Bibo said, "I'm hungry. Let's get something to eat." Yang Xingyuan said, "At this hour, where can we get food? The Guild Hall doesn't serve meals, and the small eateries on the street might not be open on such a snowy day." Wu Bibo said, "Let's buy some flour and make pancakes ourselves." Yang Xingyuan laughed and said, "You sure know how to think of ways. Alright, let's do that."
So they had the attendant buy a catty of flour, along with some scallions and salt. The two mixed the dough right in Yang Xingyuan's room. Wu Bibo had never done such things before. His hands were covered in flour, a complete mess. Yang Xingyuan said, "Watch how I do it." He rolled up his sleeves high, revealing his pale arms, and kneaded the dough in the basin repeatedly. In less than ten minutes, he had smoothed the dough. Then he divided it into several small balls, rolled them out thin with a rolling pin, sprinkled chopped scallions and salt, rolled them into spirals, and flattened them again into pancakes. Wu Bibo watched from the side, just laughing. Yang Xingyuan said, "What are you laughing at? This is very ordinary. I often do it at home." With that, he removed the fire tongs from the stove, placed an iron pan on it, and fried the pancakes until both sides were golden brown and fragrant. Wu Bibo said, "Done! My stomach is growling with hunger." Yang Xingyuan picked up a pancake, gave half to Wu Bibo, and said with a smile, "Taste it. How is it?"
Wu Bibo took it, took a bite, and laughed, "Not bad, just a bit salty." Yang Xingyuan said, "A bit salty goes well with rice." The two finished several pancakes and drank another pot of tea, feeling much warmer. Wu Bibo said, "I won't go back today. I'll sleep here with you." Yang Xingyuan said, "I only have one bed here. How can we both fit?" Wu Bibo said, "What does it matter? We can sleep foot to foot, chatting late into the night. Wouldn't that be nice?" Yang Xingyuan said, "It would be nice, but I don't have enough bedding." Wu Bibo said, "That's even easier. We can share one quilt and squeeze together for the night. It'll be warm too." Seeing his earnestness, Yang Xingyuan had to agree.
By evening, although the snow had stopped, the wind howled loudly. In the room, a brazier burned, but the fire wasn't very strong. Both sitting on the bed felt somewhat cold. Wu Bibo said, "Let's sleep. Once we're asleep, we'll warm up." So the two undressed and lay down, sharing one cotton quilt. In the middle of the night, Yang Xingyuan was awakened by the cold. Opening his eyes, he saw a white glow on the window paper, knowing it was already dawn. Looking at Wu Bibo, he was curled up, sleeping soundly. Yang Xingyuan didn't have the heart to disturb him. Gently, he covered him with the quilt, quietly got up himself, put on his clothes, and went out. He saw the entire courtyard covered in snow, reflecting the dawn light, appearing even more beautifully white. Under the steps, two snow lions were piled up by the attendant while sweeping snow, quite amusing.
Yang Xingyuan stood for a while, feeling somewhat cold, so he returned to his room, rekindled the stove, and boiled a pot of water to wash his face. At this point, Wu Bibo also woke up, sat up, and asked, "What time is it?" Yang Xingyuan said, "Probably around seven or eight o'clock." Wu Bibo said, "I still have to go to school today. I can't delay any longer." With that, he threw on his clothes and got out of bed. Yang Xingyuan said, "Have breakfast before you go." Wu Bibo said, "No need! I'll eat at school." He hurriedly rinsed his mouth and washed his face, then bid farewell and left. Yang Xingyuan saw him out the main gate. The streets were gradually filling with people, and the snow had been trampled into mud, making walking difficult.
Yang Xingyuan turned back and was about to go in when a newspaper boy walked in, holding a stack of papers and shouting, "Newspapers! Newspapers! Shadow News! Shadow News!" Yang Xingyuan bought a copy and went into his room to read it. On the front page, in large headlines, was a news item: "Yesterday's Heavy Snow Kills Dozens of Poor People." Reading further, it said that during yesterday's heavy snow, twenty or thirty beggars and laborers had frozen to death on the streets, and the Police Department had already sent workers to collect and bury them. Yang Xingyuan read this and sighed, "How pitiful!" Then, below, a smaller headline read: "Yesterday Afternoon, a Youth Found Frozen to Death on the Street." The news said that at five o'clock yesterday afternoon, at Xiangchang, a young man was seen lying in the snow, wearing shabby Western clothes. When the police approached, he was already dead, with no injuries on his body and no money, only a name card printed with the three characters "Chen Ruokuang." It was unknown where he was from. The Police Department had taken a photograph for identification.
Yang Xingyuan let out an "Oh no!" and the newspaper fell from his hand. He quickly picked it up and read again. It was indeed Chen Ruokuang. He recalled that just a few days ago, he had borrowed money here. Who would have thought that in a few days, he would freeze to death in the snow. Although this man's behavior was improper and he brought it upon himself, after all, they had been friends. He felt very sad. He thought, "His body is now at the Police Department. Since I know, I should go and arrange his burial. But I'm just a poor scholar. How can I afford it? Moreover, he and I were only casual acquaintances. It seems I needn't meddle."
Just as he was thinking this, the attendant came in and said, "Mr. Yang, there's someone outside surnamed He, from the newspaper office, here to see you." Yang Xingyuan said, "Please invite him in." He Jianchen walked in, and Yang Xingyuan pointed to the news in the paper for him to see. He Jianchen read it and also sighed for a while. He said, "I advised this man long ago, but he never listened. Now he's ended up like this." Yang Xingyuan said, "He died in the snow, with no one to collect his body. It's very pitiful. Let's think of a way for him." He Jianchen said, "I've already inquired at the Police Department. His body has been encoffined by the department and placed at the charity burial ground Outside the City. I think we should go to the charity burial ground today to pay our respects. It wouldn't be in vain that we knew him." Yang Xingyuan said, "Good! Let's go."
So the two left the Guild Hall, hired two rickshaws, and headed Outside the City. The charity burial ground was in a desolate place inaccessible by rickshaw, so they got off and walked. Although the snow had cleared, the road was still difficult to traverse, slippery with every step. By the time they reached the charity burial ground, it was already noon. They saw mounds of graves scattered about, gleaming white with snow. On the new graves, wooden markers were stuck, bearing the names of the deceased. They searched for a long time before finding Chen Ruokuang's grave. It was newly piled, the yellow earth not yet dry. In front stood a wooden plaque reading "Tomb of an Unknown Man." He Jianchen said, "This must be him." The two shed a few tears before the grave, stood for a while, then turned back.
On the way back, snow suddenly began to fall again. The snowflakes were large and dense, blowing into their faces, obscuring the road. Both lowered their heads and pressed forward. Suddenly, someone came from the opposite direction, also with head lowered. They collided and both fell into the snow. Yang Xingyuan got up and looked-the other person also got up. It was none other than Wu Bibo. Yang Xingyuan said, "How did you get here?" Wu Bibo said, "I was returning to school but took a wrong turn. Who would have thought I'd end up in this wild outskirts? Where are you two going?" Yang Xingyuan told him about paying respects to Chen Ruokuang. Wu Bibo also sighed repeatedly. The three then traveled together, braving the snow and trudging step by step back to the city.
This snowfall continued for three more days before finally clearing. Yang Xingyuan sat in his room, thinking of Chen Ruokuang's death. It was like the fox mourning the hare's death-one grieves for its kind. He felt very unhappy. He also thought of his own circumstances, drifting and lonely, worse off than Chen Ruokuang. Although Chen Ruokuang had fallen into落魄, he still had friends to bury him. He himself didn't know what end he would meet. Thinking this, a wave of sorrow washed over him, and tears nearly fell. But then he consoled himself, "Everyone dies eventually. For a useless person like me, dying a day earlier means suffering a day less. Perhaps it's my blessing. Why indulge in such futile grief?"
Though he said this, he couldn't let it go. He randomly pulled a book from the shelf-it was Poetry Manuscripts of Jiannan. Flipping through a few pages, he suddenly saw two lines by Lu Fangweng: "Eight or nine out of ten things don't go as one wishes; life and death are fated, no need to worry." Yang Xingyuan read this and couldn't help but nod. "Fangweng is truly philosophical, after all." Reading on, there was a poem titled "Snowy Night," with two lines: "Hunger drives me away, not knowing where I'll end up." Yang Xingyuan read this and suddenly thought of Chen Ruokuang. He was precisely driven by hunger and cold to the snowy ground, leading to his death. The phrase "hunger drives me away" was a portrait of his past days and a premonition of his own present. From Chen Ruokuang, he thought of himself; from the snowy ground, he thought of life. He felt that the most painful situation in the world is being pressured by life to walk a path, with no predecessors ahead and no followers behind, under the vast sky and thick fog, not knowing what to do. Unless one experiences it firsthand, one cannot know this taste.
Yang Xingyuan lost himself in these thoughts, sitting motionless on the chair as if drugged. After a long while, he finally sighed, stood up, and paced back and forth in the courtyard. He saw the snow in the courtyard, illuminated by the sun, slowly melting. Drops fell from the eaves like tears. By the wall corner, an old locust tree had a large branch broken by the snow, hanging down as if a person bowing its head in contemplation. Yang Xingyuan thought, "This branch was broken by the snow without its knowledge. Come next spring, it will naturally grow new branches. In life, when oppressed, if one collapses and never recovers, one is inferior to a tree."
Just as he was lost in thought, the attendant came in and said, "Mr. Yang, there's a telephone call for you." Yang Xingyuan went to the front to answer. It was He Jianchen calling. He said, "This afternoon, let's go treading snow at Central Park, alright?" Yang Xingyuan said, "Didn't we go yesterday?" He Jianchen said, "Yesterday was during the snow; today is after the snow. The situation is different!" Yang Xingyuan said, "Alright then. I'm feeling quite bored at home. Let's meet at the 'Laijinyu Pavilion'." After hanging up, Yang Xingyuan went back to change clothes, preparing to go out.
Suddenly, another thought struck him. "Chen Ruokuang died only a few days ago. For me to be so cheerful now, going to the park with friends, my conscience can't bear it. But staying home worrying is useless. Better to go out and relax." Thinking this, he felt going out for fun wasn't entirely wrong. In life, there is suffering and joy. When suffering, one must endure; when joyful, one should also enjoy. If one only wallows in sorrow, then there's no pleasure in being human.
Yang Xingyuan consoled and sighed to himself for a while before finally changing clothes and going out. The snow on the streets had half melted, leaving slush and mud everywhere, making walking difficult. He took a rickshaw to Central Park. Indeed, the scenery after the snow was different from yesterday's. The snow on the trees, illuminated by the sun, glittered as if hung with many pearls. The snow on the roofs, melted by sunlight, dripped down in strands like crystal curtains.
Yang Xingyuan walked to the "Laijinyu Pavilion." He Jianchen was already waiting there. The two found a seat by the window, ordered a pot of tea, and chatted idly. He Jianchen said, "There are quite a few visitors today." Yang Xingyuan said, "With such fine weather, who would stay cooped up at home?" Just as they spoke, two people walked in-a man and a woman. The woman wore a tweed cheongsam with an otter-fur collar coat over it, leather gloves on her hands, and carried a purse. The man wore a set of dark blue Western suit and glasses, looking very self-important. Yang Xingyuan looked at the woman; she seemed familiar. After thinking carefully, he realized it was Li Yun from Pine and Bamboo House.
Li Yun also saw Yang Xingyuan at this moment and gave him a slight nod. Then she and the man sat at the next table. Yang Xingyuan, in front of He Jianchen, felt too embarrassed to go over and greet her, so he only nodded back. He Jianchen asked quietly, "Do you know her?" Yang Xingyuan said, "I knew her before." He Jianchen smiled and said, "You have good taste. This girl is quite famous in the hutong." Yang Xingyuan said, "Times have changed. Why mention her?"
While they were talking, Li Yun kept stealing glances at Yang Xingyuan. The man seemed to notice and said to Li Yun, "What are you looking at?" Li Yun said, "I'm looking at the snowy scenery outside the window." The man said, "What's so nice about snowy scenery? Hurry up and have some snacks. We still have to go to Zhenguang to watch a movie." Li Yun said, "What's the rush? Sitting here is nice too." The man said, "You're always so slow." With that, his face showed great impatience. Li Yun lowered her head and dared not speak. Yang Xingyuan saw this and felt very sorry for Li Yun. He thought, "Such a young woman, fallen into Living hell, controlled by others, without freedom. How pitiful."
He then said to He Jianchen, "Let's go." He Jianchen said, "What's the rush?" Yang Xingyuan said, "I suddenly remembered something I need to go back and attend to." He Jianchen saw he couldn't stay long and had to let him. The two paid the tea bill and left the "Laijinyu Pavilion." Yang Xingyuan said, "Please go ahead. I need to head back first." He Jianchen said, "Where are you going? Let's go together." Yang Xingyuan said, "No! I'm going to Liulichang to buy some books." He Jianchen said, "Then, farewell." They parted ways.
Yang Xingyuan walked to the park entrance and saw Li Yun and the man also coming out. The man was hailing a rickshaw, while Li Yun stood to the side, constantly glancing at Yang Xingyuan with her eyes. Yang Xingyuan walked up and asked, "Going back?" Li Yun nodded. Yang Xingyuan said, "We haven't seen each other for a long time. How have you been?" Li Yun said, "Thank you for remembering me. I'm still the same." The man finished hailing a rickshaw, turned back, saw Yang Xingyuan talking to Li Yun, and glared fiercely at Yang Xingyuan. He said to Li Yun, "Get in the rickshaw quickly!" Li Yun said "Goodbye" to Yang Xingyuan and got into the rickshaw, leaving.
Yang Xingyuan stood in the snow, staring blankly for a while, then sighed and muttered to himself, "'Falling into the mire, ruining future prospects'-these five words are truly apt. For someone like me, who knows what end I'll meet?" Thinking this, he lowered his head and trudged step by step through the slush back to the Guild Hall. On the roadside utility poles, many colorful advertisements were pasted, soaked by the snow and fallen off, rolling in the slush. Yang Xingyuan stepped on one of the advertisement papers. Printed on it were several large characters: "The road to the clouds is vast and obscure."
Yang Xingyuan saw this and was startled again. He thought, "These words seem like a portrait of me. Isn't my future precisely a vast and obscure road to the clouds?" The more he thought, the more upset he felt. He hurried back to the Guild Hall, closed the door, lay on the bed, and covered his head to sleep. In the evening, He Jianchen called again, inviting him to the newspaper office. He went listlessly. At the newspaper office, He Jianchen told him that Chen Ruokuang's family had rushed from the south and taken the coffin back to their hometown. Yang Xingyuan said, "That's good. At least he has a resting place."
That night, Yang Xingyuan edited manuscripts at the newspaper office, but he felt distracted and restless. With great effort, he finished his work, bid farewell to He Jianchen, and went home alone. By then, snow had started falling again, though not heavily. The cold wind cut his face like a knife. The streets were quiet, with no one in sight. Only a few street lamps emitted a desolate light in the snow. Yang Xingyuan thought, "On such a cold night, how many poor souls will freeze to death?" He also thought, "If I don't find a proper job and continue like this, I'm afraid I'll end up like Chen Ruokuang, dead without a burial place."
The more he thought, the more frightened he became, and his steps quickened, wishing he could leap back to the Guild Hall in one stride. Suddenly, his foot slipped, and he fell into the snow, both hands plunging into the snow, chilling him to the bone. Getting up, he saw he had stepped on a patch of ice. He sighed and slowly walked back. At the Guild Hall, the attendant was already asleep. He opened the door himself and entered the courtyard. The entire courtyard was covered in snow, a vast whiteness. The snowlight reflected off the windows, making the room visible without lighting a lamp. He opened his door, felt his way to the bed, lay down with his clothes on, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. He only heard the snow outside rustling incessantly, as if sighing for him.
That night, Yang Xingyuan thought of the past and the future until daybreak, when he finally drifted into a fitful sleep. He woke to find the sun flooding the window. He got up, pushed open the window, and saw the snow had stopped. A red sun shone on the snow, making it glitter and dazzle the eyes. Yang Xingyuan washed his face, drank some tea, and planned to go out to look for work. But then he thought of himself as a scholar, unable to carry loads or lift heavy things, with no skill besides wielding a pen. In this vast sea of people, where could he find a job?
Just as he was worrying, the attendant brought in a letter. Yang Xingyuan opened it and found it was from a publishing house in the south, inviting him to compile a middle school Chinese textbook. They offered a monthly remuneration of sixty yuan and had sent the first month's salary in advance. Yang Xingyuan read this letter and was overjoyed. He quickly wrote back to accept. He thought, "This is truly heaven never seals off all exits. Just when I worried about having no food, such an opportunity comes. It shows that in life, as long as one is willing to strive, there's always a way."
From then on, Yang Xingyuan settled his mind and compiled books for the publishing house. Although it was a bit taxing, his life temporarily had stability, much better than the days of hunger and uncertainty. Sometimes, thinking of Chen Ruokuang, he warned himself, "A person in this world is like a small boat drifting on the ocean. If one isn't careful, a wave can capsize it. Chen Ruokuang was careless, so he perished in the depths. From now on, I must be extra cautious and not end up like him."
Time passed quickly, and soon it was late winter again. One day, Yang Xingyuan was compiling books at home when He Jianchen suddenly ran over and said, "I have a friend working at the Railway Bureau. They need a clerk. I think you're most suitable. I've already recommended you. Go see the director tomorrow." Yang Xingyuan said, "Thank you for your kindness. But I'm completely inexperienced with official matters. I'm afraid I won't do well." He Jianchen said, "What's so hard about it? It's just drafting a few petitions and writing some official letters. Your literary skills are excellent. You can definitely handle it." Seeing he made it sound so easy, Yang Xingyuan agreed.
The next day, Yang Xingyuan went to see the director of the Railway Bureau. The director was a man in his fifties with a mustache, who shook his head and swayed as he spoke. He asked Yang Xingyuan a few questions, looked at the resume he submitted, then nodded and said, "Since Mr. He recommends you, you must be good. Start working tomorrow." Yang Xingyuan thanked him and withdrew. He thought, "So easy, just like that, I've found a job. What luck."
From then on, Yang Xingyuan worked at the Railway Bureau. During the day, he went to the yamen; at night, he compiled books. Although busy, he was quite happy in spirit. Sometimes, colleagues invited him to play mahjong or drink, but he refused. He thought, "Now that I have a job, I should work hard. If I mess around again, I'd not only let myself down but also my friends."
After some time, He Jianchen said to him again, "Now that your life is stable, you should start a family. That's the proper way." Yang Xingyuan laughed and said, "I can barely support myself. How can I afford to start a family?" He Jianchen said, "Starting a family doesn't require much money. As long as two people are compatible, even with just a pair of chopsticks and a bowl, they can live." Yang Xingyuan said, "Though you say that, who would be willing to follow someone like me?" He Jianchen said, "Don't say such things. The world is vast. Isn't there one who understands you?"
Yang Xingyuan heard this and couldn't help but feel a stir in his heart, thinking of Li Yun. But then he reconsidered. She was from the hutong, and he was of a different status. How could marriage be discussed? Moreover, he had just gotten a job and needed to work hard. If he caused a scandal, wouldn't that be career suicide? Thinking this, he dismissed the notion.
Yang Xingyuan saw him out, then turned back. He saw the pear tree in the courtyard had already sprouted, with a few green嫩叶 swaying in the wind on the枯枝. Yang Xingyuan thought, "Winter has passed, and spring has come again. Time flies. Last year at this time, I was still dreaming at home. This year, I can actually earn a living in Beijing. It shows that in this world, as long as one is willing to strive, there's never despair."
Just as he was lost in thought, the attendant brought in another letter. He opened it and found it was the salary from the publishing house, along with a letter saying his book compilation was excellent and the publishing house was very satisfied, hoping he would continue his efforts. Yang Xingyuan read this and felt even happier. He put away the salary and sat down to continue compiling books.
By then, the sun had set, filling the courtyard with golden afterglow. Yang Xingyuan stood up, stretched, and walked into the courtyard. He saw the shadow of the pear tree cast slantingly on the east wall, like a light ink painting. Suddenly, a gentle breeze blew, and the branches swayed as if nodding to him. Yang Xingyuan couldn't help but laugh and said, "Are you congratulating me too?"
Just as he spoke, he heard the sound of a child reciting from the neighboring courtyard, clearly传了过来: "Amid the sound of firecrackers, one year ends; spring breezes bring warmth into Tusu wine." Yang Xingyuan thought, "Today is around the twentieth of the twelfth lunar month. No wonder the child recites such a poem. Ah! Another year has passed. This year, I haven't wasted it after all."
Thinking this, he walked back into the room, turned on the electric light, and打算写几封信. Suddenly, he thought of Chen Ruokuang again and sighed, "Ruokuang! If you could have been a bit more patient like me, why would you have died in the snow? It shows that in life, though poverty, success,寿命, and夭折 have their定数, half also depends on oneself. In my situation last year, if I hadn't pulled myself together, I might have ended up like you."
Thinking this, he picked up a pen and wrote a few lines in his diary: "Hunger drives me away; circumstances are beyond control. Having fallen into the mire, I urgently seek a way out. Wind and snow fill the road, yet I do not consider it bitter. Heaven helps those who help themselves, revealing the true self." After writing, he吟哦了几遍, then put the diary away.
By then, it was already dark. A crescent moon emerged from the clouds, shining on the snow with a清光. Yang Xingyuan turned off the electric light, pushed open the window, and admired the snowy scene under the moonlight. The moonlight and snowlight blended into one, making the courtyard like a crystal palace. The pear tree, under the moonlight, showed every branch and twig clearly, like a patterned painting.
Just as Yang Xingyuan was admiring this, a gust of wind blew a large chunk of snow from the tree. It hit the window with a啪的一声. Yang Xingyuan was startled. Looking closely, it turned out cats were fighting on the roof, knocking the snow down. He couldn't help but laugh at himself and said, "Truly, every rustle seems an enemy, every shadow a soldier." He closed the window and sat down again.
Then, all was silent, except for the ticking of the clock on the table. Yang Xingyuan sat alone in the room, thinking of last year's往事 and this year's新境. He felt life was truly like a dream. Last year on this day, he was奔波 in wind and snow. This year on this day, he could sit under bright electric light, reading and writing at leisure. Wasn't this a dream?
Just as he was lost in thought, he heard the sound of a胡琴 from the neighboring courtyard, playing "Deep Night." The sound rose and fell,断断续续, as if endless幽怨 emanated from the strings. Yang Xingyuan heard this and couldn't help but feel moved, thinking of Lin Daiyu's "Autumn Window, Wind and Rain Evening" from Dream of the Red Chamber. Though he wasn't Lin Daiyu, this drifting life and孤寂情怀 were somewhat similar to hers.
Thinking this, he picked up a pen again and wrote a few poems on draft paper. Two lines among them were: "Snow fills Chang'an, wine prices soar; at dusk, the wind grows urgent, fearing it blows my robe. Ten years, one spring dream in the capital; only poetic heart remains to answer the New Year's dawn." After writing, he read it himself and felt it had some meaning, then stored it in a drawer.
By then, the night was deep. The胡琴 sound had long stopped. The lights in the neighboring courtyard were also extinguished. Yang Xingyuan tidied up and went to bed. Lying down, tossing and turning, he still couldn't sleep. He only heard the wind outside growing stronger, the window paper fluttering噗噗的. Yang Xingyuan thought, "With such strong wind, tomorrow will be very cold. My tattered quilt probably won't suffice. I need to think of a way to buy a cotton quilt tomorrow."
Thinking this, he drifted into a fitful sleep. Suddenly, he dreamed that Chen Ruokuang came. He wore a set of white silk clothes and said to Yang Xingyuan with a smile, "Xingyuan, you're doing well now. I'm very cold underground. Could you send me a cotton quilt?" Yang Xingyuan was about to speak when a cold wind blew Chen Ruokuang away. Yang Xingyuan startled awake-it was all a dream.
By then, it was almost dawn. The window paper was already turning white. Yang Xingyuan threw on his clothes, got up, pushed open the window, and looked out. He saw the sky full of stars. The crescent moon had set westward, its light very dim. The courtyard was pitch-dark. The pear tree lay as a庞大的 black shadow on the ground.
Yang Xingyuan lit a lamp, washed his face, drank some tea, and sat down to compile books. He worked until the sun rose, then put down his pen and went into the courtyard to bask in the sun. He saw the sunlight shining on the snow, brilliant and golden, very lovely. The snow on the branches, melted by the sun, dripped down drop by drop like rain.
Just as Yang Xingyuan was watching this, the attendant came in and said, "Mr. Yang, there's a female visitor outside to see you." Yang Xingyuan said, "A female visitor? Who is it?" The attendant said, "I don't know her. She says her surname is Li." Yang Xingyuan was very surprised and said, "Please invite her in."