Embraced by the moonlight

Dezhi is my childhood, from elementary school to today, together for more than sixty long years. A shake, from a small child will wander to the gray hair.

Spring has come again. Dezhi said in WeChat, to express delivery to me a can of "Taiping Monkey Kui" new tea. I said, do not send it, tomorrow to be free, let's meet in the Temple of Heaven.

The last time we met, also in the Temple of Heaven, also just started spring. A full two years have passed. The last time we met, it was at the Temple of Heaven. The Temple of Heaven has become my "private meeting room". The garden is full of ancient trees, the breeze, why not happy!

When I was a kid, my family and I were very close to the Temple of Heaven, and we used to come here to play, either to catch crickets or to play hide-and-seek. Nowadays, we have moved far away from each other, but we still know our way to the Temple of Heaven. When I arrived, I saw Dezhi walking back and forth along the promenade inside the East Gate, looking around, looking for me. Two years ago, he was also the first to arrive, which, come to think of it, made me ashamed.

We sat together in the promenade and chatted, we hadn't seen each other for many days, so the words naturally thickened. The morning sun was warm and the promenade was full of visitors, leaning against the red pillars and sunbathing, after all, it was spring.

He gave me a copy of Yan Style Calligraphic Script and a pen and paper, hoping that I would also practice. The calligraphy book and the pen and paper were dusty, and I never got my fingers on it, even though I had a teacher beside me. One's hobby is innate, like the wind blowing the ripples of water or the leaves of a tree, it is naturally formed, the so-called falling flowers and flowing water, and becomes an article, not like a car or a boat, which needs external force to push.

After graduating from high school, I went to the Northern Wilderness, and Dezhi was assigned to the Beijing Meat Factory, frying meatballs. Six years later, I was transferred back to Beijing to teach, and he was still at the meat factory, frying meatballs around a huge cauldron. I laughed at him, "How beautiful it is to eat meatballs every day. He said: beautiful? The smell of it every day made me want to vomit.

At that time, I was working on a full-length novel called "Hope", and every day I went home from class to write a paragraph, and in the evening, I went to his house, which could only put a bed and a small table in the cabin, and read a paragraph proudly. He listened carefully, and then, showed me the brushstrokes he had written. In this way, the upper and lower halves exchanged places, competing in martial arts and encouraging each other. 300,000 words of the novel were written, and in the end, without any hope, it became a pile of scrap paper. He wrote a large banner in regular script and posted it on the wall of his house: The view is this way.

Sitting in a chair on the promenade, the sky was the limit, chatting east and west, when suddenly, Dezhi asked me, "Zhang Shufan, do you know him?"

I knew this man, a calligrapher, who was good at writing regular script and had been the vice chairman of the Beijing Calligraphers Association.

Dezhi said, "Once, by chance, Zhang Shufan saw a small regular script I had written and even asked who had written it. When he found out that I had written it, he asked, "Have you joined the calligraphy association yet? I said no. He immediately asked someone to find a membership application form and gave it to me. That's how I joined the Beijing Calligraphy Association, thanks to Zhang Shufan's recommendation."

I said, "It was only because of your good writing that Zhang Shufan was able to see the gold."

Dezhi waved his hand repeatedly and said, "I didn't know him at all before, and I never saw him afterwards. You see, I joined the club without sending a little gift, too simple, right?"

I said, "There are many things that should be so simple. Now, in some places, the culture is not correct, only to make it complicated."

Dezhi sighed softly and said, "You are right, because of this, I always want to thank people, after so many years, always thinking about this."

I smiled and said to Deji, "He retired a long time ago. Maybe he forgot about it long ago."

Dezhi looked at me and said, "I haven't forgotten."

Some things, some people think small, some people think big; some people remember firmly, can remember a lifetime, some people quickly forget everything, and generally also rely on the relentless time. In fact, it is not that people have good and bad memory, but rather memory is selective.

After parting with Dezhi, I went around the Temple of Heaven again and walked in front of the Hall of Prayer, suddenly remembering that I had just read a short poem by poet Li Nan, "Waking up in the middle of the night".

Actually, not anyone wakes up in the middle of the night and is held tightly by the moonlight. I think Deji would. When he wakes up in the middle of the night, the clear, crisp moonlight will always hold him tightly ......