Chapter 8 seven

Jiang Xiaofeng walked slowly along the sidewalk. A crescent moon floated like a hook in the sky. The night is so clear and quiet, the hustle and bustle of the day has receded, and Munich at this moment is quiet and solemn.The black and lacquered iron doors of those elegant stores all seemed to have a special atmosphere of terror.Big cities are always like this, maybe the daytime is too noisy and lively!At night, the desertedness is particularly emphasized.After visiting so many big cities, he came to such a conclusion.But he would rather love the night of the big city than its bustling and colorful day.At night, when the whole city fell asleep, it was the moment when he was most awake.He often goes out for a walk in the stillness of the night, watching the wind, clouds, moonlight, memories, and deep thoughts.Often when walking like this, that familiar place, a beautiful island in the Pacific Ocean, appeared in my mind.He went there at the age of eight and came out at the age of twenty-one. The joys and sorrows of his childhood and youth were left there. During these years abroad, he can’t describe how much he cares about and misses that place. His inspiration for composing music often comes from Come slowly in the nostalgic late-night walk.

He used to put his hands in his jacket pockets.The thick envelope in the pocket touched his hand.well!He sighed faintly.Because of this letter, he felt an unspeakable melancholy.There are people like this who forget about their roots when they go abroad.According to his thinking, he doesn't bother to pay attention to people like Paul Tang, but who made Mrs. Tang Qiu Huayue his classmate when he was in normal school?She asked him to forward the letter, how could he say no?As a result, Paul Tang was so frightened that he hid forever as if he had seen a ghost.In fact, today he was just saying that he was waiting for Paul Tang, but that guy took it seriously and slipped away again.He was really not interested in seeing Paul Tang, so he thought he should send the letter to him tomorrow!

It was really late at night. When he broke up with Yang Wenyan's group in front of the train station just now, he glanced at the big and round standard clock. It was almost one o'clock at midnight, but until now, he was not tired at all. At the party, everyone laughed, and he laughed happily too. Now that he was away from the crowd, he couldn't hear the loud laughter that seemed to be venting, and his usual worrying heart began to think again.Facing such a beautiful night, facing the foreign cold wind, he thought of that beautiful island again.He was thinking, should he go back?Before he came out and after he went abroad, at all times, he thought about going back one day. He missed the people there, loved the land and air there. , in order to see and hear more, to learn solidly and perfect skills, so that I can go back and do something for her.He always remembers what his mother said: Children, never give up music, always go in the direction of your ideal, maybe you will be lonely, maybe it will not be easy, but you must work hard.Sow the seeds, and the flowers will bloom.

His father and mother all studied music, and he was their son, and he was born with music in his blood. From a young age, he wanted to be a musician, and he didn't want to do anything else.Because of his love for music, he has very strict requirements for music. He believes that music is enough to represent the character of a nation.Therefore, when he was a boy, his enthusiasm was almost fierce. Whenever he heard those dirty paste-like sounds on the street radio, which smeared people's will and lost their cleanliness, he would jump up in anger.Hearing the nondescript lyrics translated by foreign songs, and the foreign tunes hummed casually by some people who thought they were foreign, I couldn't help but sigh.He once said to his mother: Mom, I must create China's own songs in the future, and we Chinese must sing our own songs and make our own voices.Our voice is definitely not the kind of pop songs played on the radio, nor is it Western music.Our songs should come from the five thousand years of Chinese culture, the soil, and the hearts of people.When the mother heard it, she narrowed her eyes with a smile, and praised him: "Good boy, your idea is too good, work hard on music, go in this direction, and you will succeed."

When he was a teenager, he tried to compose music. Of course, it was some immature works, but his mother encouraged him and helped him. In those two shabby little houses, the mother and son did not know how much music the music gave them. .When he was fourteen years old, his mother suddenly abandoned him, and before she died, she told him: Don't give up, always walk in that direction. He's been going in that direction for years.In order to capture this ideal, he gave up the opportunity to get rich, was abandoned by his lover, and lived a life that was almost destitute, but he never regretted it or wavered, because he firmly believed that he would succeed.He dare not say that with his own strength, he can evoke the voice of this ancient and profound nation that has been buried for so long, but he must at least be a sower. He believes in his mother's words: only when you sow seeds, will flowers bloom.He just wants to do it, and he is not eager to wait for the result, but the result will definitely come.This idea is his personal secret. Sometimes people will ask him: Jiang Xiaofeng, why does a talented person like you play Chinese folk songs?Not working on western songs and symphonies?You are qualified to compete with Western musicians.If you want to be famous, you have to play western music. You can’t get famous by playing Chinese music. The standard of Chinese music is so poor that you can say that you don’t have your own music at all.If you go this way, aren't you kidding yourself, it's too bad.

If this is the case, it will not only fail to resonate with him, but will make him sad.He also didn't want to say frankly: I never thought about not being famous.If you say that, people will think that he is pretending to be noble.Say nice things and no one will believe them.His thinking has always been: If you think the goal is right, just go forward and don't care about other people's opinions.At most, sometimes he would say lightly: No matter how good Western music is, it does not belong to us.If our music standard is too low, or if we don't have our own music at all, and we are a silent nation, we should work harder to create our own music.People often laugh at him: Da Jiang, you are an idealist. , Dajiang, you fool.He doesn't care about people's opinions, he just keeps working hard in that direction silently.

The moon seemed to be higher, curved, and transparently bright. Jiang Xiaofeng felt that the light was shining on his heart, making him unable to hide the excitement inside.He was a little excited, but also a little depressed. The subtlest part of his emotions seemed to be electrified, trembling, and he could no longer calm down.In his mind, that beautiful shadow, that female classmate named Yu Zhiyun, has appeared many times.How fresh and white she looked, especially those slightly hanging, black and bright eyes, like two bright stars, shot into his soul at once.That day, she wrapped such a big scarf, only her face was exposed. Her skin was too fair, and her eyebrows and eyes were so dark that he intuitively thought she was Japanese.

Because the Chinese girls he has seen are not so fair and delicate.A Japanese interrupted his work mood again, how could he not be angry?When he was a child, he saw what the Japanese did in China, and his father's tragic death at the hands of the Japanese made his resentment towards the Japanese impossible to disappear, so he scolded her so directly.How could he have expected that she was a compatriot from the same place.She looks so elegant and intelligent, the kind of charm that only girls with thoughts in their heads can have.She was so sincere and generous that she had already forgiven his rudeness that day.

In the previous meeting, they talked so well, her words were so deep and insightful, she is not an ordinary girl, she only cares about herself and the small environment around her, she pays attention to the wider society and the world outside her body, she Her voice was so nice and full of magnetism. Until now, her every frown and smile were still so vivid in his impression. But Jiang Xiaofeng quickly blamed himself, it seemed that it was not suitable for him to fall in love with such a delicate lady wearing a valuable fur coat.Such a girl with both talent and beauty is also an overseas student, and the dowry of knowledge is too rich. What she wants is another goal, a role like He Shaoxiang.Didn't she already leave in He Shaoxiang's car?He regretted the sudden remark about sending her back, feeling like a bore.He Shaoxiang is famous and famous, has money and a car, but he has none, but he never feels inferior or discouraged by this, nor does he lack the courage to love.It's just that a character like him wants to create his own voice for the motherland, and a person who is determined to return to the country will scare them away as soon as they hear it.It's not that he is inexperienced. At that time, Wei Wei and Wei Wei were in Vienna. The two had speculated and fell in love seriously, but what was the result?Didn't she leave him and marry a husband with good conditions in all aspects.For girls today, a guy like him is simply unambitious to a terrifying degree.Could Yu Zhiyun be an exception?If she is also a sharp-eyed girl in the twentieth century, why bother with that trouble?

He knew very well in his heart that most of the Chinese girls today are flowers in the greenhouse, but he is definitely not a greenhouse for flowers.What they want, he will never give, and he doesn't bother to pursue, let alone change his established goal for anyone.Yu Zhiyun is cute, cute enough to shock him wholeheartedly, but no matter what, she is also one of the delicate flowers, which can be judged from her appearance.She is not suitable for him. These thoughts made Jiang Xiaofeng feel a little melancholy, and he realized his own loneliness more and more. He pushed back the lock of hair that was dangling on his forehead, and stopped the raging thoughts with one ruthless blow.

Jiang Xiaofeng's residence is one street behind the station, which is an area where the lower classes are active. There are usually noisy people and cars running like water. There are cheap small restaurants on both sides of the street. slideshow with naked women.Some vulgar-looking men often gather around like flies, watching with endless interest.Now, all the traffic and crowds have receded, only the red, green and green neon signboards are still on, and laughter can be faintly heard from inside.Jiang Xiaofeng frowned subconsciously. He felt that most people didn't cherish the journey to this world and wasted their lives for nothing. hello!Mr. China.The voice is very whiny and hoarse. Jiang Xiaofeng raised his head, which was in deep thought, and saw the girl with heavy makeup standing at the door of the yellow cafe that he must pass by every day.With a cigarette in one hand and her other hand on her hips, she was looking at him with a tired smile on her face.He often met this woman, and every time she grinned at him with smoke-yellow teeth, she called him Mr. China.He never acted so lofty that she could feel ashamed, and always replied to her: I'm fine, thank you.But he was also on guard in his heart, afraid that the girl would come to mess with him further.It turned out that his worries were unnecessary. For more than a year, he met her almost every week, and she always only said: Hello, Mr. China.No other actions were taken.Today he still answers the old saying: I am fine, thank you. Jiang Xiaofeng had never looked at that girl's face carefully, and his only impression was that her teeth were yellow and she was not young.Now walking directly opposite, he casually glanced at her.The electric light on the door of the cafe was shining on the face that was smeared red and white, which made her two dark bags under the lower eyelids appear without any concealment, showing the slackness of her whole body more and more. old.He didn't think this girl looked obscene, and wondered why she chose this profession?A country as rich as West Germany will have such a place, and there will be women in such a lowly profession. It cannot be said that it is not a great irony! Before going abroad, like many people full of fantasies, he thought that western countries were scientifically advanced, socially civilized, and everything was perfect.For some shortcomings of my own country, I feel heartbroken and cannot forgive.When he was studying at a normal school, whenever he saw a case of robbery or corruption in the newspaper, he would be filled with indignation, thinking it was a stain on society.Once, I went to Zhongshan North Road with some classmates and saw the bars with English signboards. When he came back, he was so sad that he couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night. When he woke up the next morning, he hurriedly wrote a scolding article and put it in the newspaper. But two weeks later his masterpiece was returned, which made his heart full of grief and indignation even more disappointing, and shook his determination to write our song.He once wondered how much society gave him?Is it worth his whole life to work hard for her?After going abroad, he really saw clearly that any healthy society has its own dark side.In comparison, the place he came from should be the most perfect, and the darkness he couldn't bear in the past is just a small flaw on a piece of beautiful jade.This discovery made him blame himself very much, feeling that he had been like an unworthy son who disliked his mother.And the farther away you are, the more you see, the more you love the place that belongs to you. Turning from the end, it was a deserted street, between a car cemetery and a construction factory, stood a dilapidated house, and Jiang Xiaofeng lived upstairs. Such a dilapidated house is hard to find in the whole of Munich. It is one of the few houses left by the Allied bombs during the war.As for the construction factory, it is actually a shed piled up with broken copper and rotten iron. Three of the four walls are empty, and a huge crane stands like a terrifying giant in the night sky. Chatted up with the old landlord and offered to buy his house so that the two plots could be combined and sold to a man-made high-rise.The old man stubbornly refused to accept it, saying that the house was left by his grandfather and he would not sell it as long as he still had breath.The builder with a big belly said provocatively: What's the use if you don't sell it?You are dead, isn't your son going to sell?How nice of you to sell it and move to a quieter place!My crane is noisy every day, what's the point of you being here? The old man said: If my son wants to sell it is his business, I will not sell it anyway.I don't care if your crane is noisy, I can't hear the sound for a long time. He really couldn't hear, not only could he not hear, he was also blind in one eye, and his legs and feet were not very flexible, all of which were deformities left by soldiers injured during the war. Because the landlord is such a person that no one likes to get close to, and the house itself is not very attractive, the rent is one or two times lower than others. Jiang Xiaofeng lived here as soon as he arrived in Munich. The old man never interfered with the tenants like other landlords Talk to him, he can do whatever he likes, play the piano in the middle of the night, get up early in the morning to walk around the house, stomp the floor until it rattles, you have 100% freedom. Jiang Xiaofeng opened the door, and the old man's darling, a fat cat named Napoleon, waddled out to meet him, barking incessantly.Jiang Xiaofeng bent down, stroked it a few times along its fluffy long hair, and said: What time is it?Still calling!Just walk through the corridor and go upstairs to your room. The fire had long gone out, and the room was as cold as a cellar.Jiang Xiaofeng took off his jacket, lifted the bed cover, and wanted to get under the quilt.He forgot to hear who said: the best enjoyment of the poor is to sleep.He was poor enough, it was past midnight, and the house was cold, so there was really nothing for him to do but sleep.But as soon as he turned his head and saw the messy pile of papers on the grand piano in the middle of the room, he completely forgot about sleeping.So he walked to the piano involuntarily, picked up the papers and read them one by one. That's his most recent composition.With the assistance of Professor Haier who supervised him, he got the chance to compose and give a recital.What Professor Haier means is that he hopes he can compose a modern Western symphony.In this respect he has always been not bad, and he is considered to be outstanding.He also understood that Professor Haier's purpose was to take this opportunity to impress him with authority figures in the music industry so that he could try to stay for him in the future.Professor Haier once said to him: Jiang, you are the best student I have ever taught. You don't have to go back to your country, you are eligible to stay. It is best for you to study for a doctorate in music theory at university.You know, it's hard for a foreigner without a degree. Professor Haier, you are so kind to me, I don't know what to say to thank you.But I don't intend to stay.In the past few years abroad, one of the things I hope most is to go back to China and contribute what I have learned to my own country.He answered frankly. Jiang, do you really think so?The Chinese students I have taught in the past all asked me to find a way to stay here.Professor Haier shook his sparse white hair and smiled puzzled. Everyone's wish is different. The only thing I want to do in my life is to create our own music in China.He always felt that he shouldn't have secrets that he couldn't tell Professor Haier, and since he thought so, he said so. Professor Haier treats him as lovingly as a father treats his son.Although he expressed his desire to return to China, Professor Haier did not give up persuading him to stay.For this work presentation, Professor Haier encouraged him again and again: Jiang, you are talented in new music, show them well. When he stubbornly stated that his published works would be Chinese music, Professor Haier's disappointment was clearly written on his face. Jiang, did you really decide this way?Why are you doing this?You know it's a thankless job.There is no need for Chinese music here, and everyone does not know Chinese music. Because of this, I want to introduce Chinese music to them and let them know it.He still said stubbornly. Jiang, if you do this, you will lose your chance, and you will regret it.Professor Haier said displeased. Professor, I don't regret it, I'm not keen on fame. so what do you want?Professor Hale looked at him strangely. I want to create our own music, and let Western people know it. All right!This is about your future, not mine.You have to do that, I have no problem.You know, I've been very helpful to you. In this way, he decided to publish the Motherland Is Calling Suite at the concert.In recent days, he has been preparing for this job. Jiang Xiaofeng picked up the sheet music and read them carefully one by one. He frowned while reading, and finally tore it hard, and threw it all into the wastebasket by his feet.He put on his jacket again, rubbed his hands vigorously for a while, until they were warmed up, he sat down on the piano bench and began to work with concentration. Until the dawn light penetrated those two glass windows, there were still so many jumping notes in his mind, rushing out like a tide, rushing and howling.It was the voice of a strong and happy Chinese.They come from the top of the mountain, from the ocean, from the fragrant soil of the motherland, and from the profound and profound culture of thousands of years. He played the piano with one hand and wrote down the score with the other. He had as many inspirations as the water in a river. In the turbulent waves, that beautiful figure appeared and disappeared from time to time.He suddenly realized that the inspiration for this creation came from her.Following this enlightenment, his heart was immediately surrounded by warmth.He dropped the pen, rubbed his hands that were almost frozen, and walked back and forth on the ground, a series of question marks unfolded in front of his eyes: Isn't every beautiful flower only suitable for a greenhouse?Will she be a winter plum that is not afraid of wind and frost?The moment their eyes met, he felt that lightning-like shock that touched the depths of his soul, did she feel it too?Even if she can accept herself, what can he give her?He has always believed that love is the union of hearts, and every time he sees the hero say to the delicate and beautiful heroine in the novel: I want to take care of you like a little princess, he gets angry.I think this is an inexplicable thought, a vulgar love game played by soulless men and women.He knew for sure that no matter how much he loved her, he would not treat her like a little princess.So what can he give her? He opened his eyes wide, and scanned the walls. Except for a valuable piano, his house was bare, and none of the tables, chairs and benches bought second-hand were faultless.It is said that both Chinese and foreign students have a passbook in the bank, but he has never had one.All he has is that invisible and intangible talent, that unstoppable enthusiasm like fire, and a sincere and honest heart.Will these intangible, worthless things in the eyes of many people have value in her eyes?Will she accept it?Will you cherish it? Jiang Xiaofeng almost wanted to laugh at these ridiculous nonsense.He walked to the window and saw a sun rising from a distant hillside.