My eldest mother, as I have already said, is a female worker and always leads me. To put it bluntly, she is my nanny. My mother and many others call her that, which seems a bit polite. Only my grandmother called her Chang. I usually call her "grandma" without the word "long"; But when you hate her-for example, when you know that she killed my Tibetan mouse, call her Chang.

We don't have long surnames there; She is short and fat, and "long" is not an adjective. That's not her name. I remember she said her name. What girl, I have forgotten now, in short, not a long girl; I finally don't know her last name. I remember that she also told me the origin of this name: there was a female worker in my family who was very tall, and this was Zhen Achang. Later, she went back, and my girl came to fill the vacancy. But because everyone was used to screaming, she didn't change her mind and became a dragon mother from then on.

Although it is not a good thing to talk about people behind their backs, if I have to tell the truth, I can only say: I really don't admire her. What I hate most is that I often like to make a careful observation and whisper to people. Hold up your second finger, shake it up and down in the air, or light your opponent or nose. There was a little trouble at home, and somehow I always suspected that it was related to this "careful observation" that I was not allowed to walk, pull weeds and turn over rocks, so I was naughty and wanted to tell my mother. In summer, when she was sleeping, she put her feet and hands over and put a word "big" in the middle of the bed, so that I had no place to turn over and slept on the mat in the corner for a long time. It was already so hot. Push her, don't move; I'm calling her, but I don't smell it.

"Dragon mother so fat, must be very afraid of the heat? I'm afraid it's not good to sleep at night. ……"

Once my mother asked her after hearing my repeated complaints. I also know that this means asking her to give me more empty seats. She won't talk. But at night, when I woke up, I still saw the word "big" on the bed and an arm resting on my neck. I think it is really incredible.

But she knows many rules; These rules are probably my impatience. The happiest time of the year is naturally New Year's Eve. After I resigned, I got lucky money from my elders, wrapped it in red paper and put it on my pillow. I can use it at will as long as I stay overnight. Sleeping on the pillow, looking at the red envelope, thinking about the tambourine, sword, clay figurine and sugar bodhisattva that I will buy tomorrow. However, when she came in, she put another orange on the bed.

"Brother, remember!" She said with the utmost seriousness. "Tomorrow is the first day of the first month. As soon as I open my eyes in the morning, the first thing I want to say is:' Grandma, congratulations!' Remember? Remember, it's a year's luck. Don't say anything else! After that, I must eat some oranges. "She picked up the orange and shook it in front of my eyes twice." So, all the year round, downstream ... "

I remember New Year's Day in my dream and woke up early the next day. I had to sit up when I woke up. She immediately put out her arm and held me down. When I looked at her in surprise, she looked at me anxiously.

She shook my shoulder as if she wanted something. It suddenly occurred to me-

"Grandma, congratulations ..."

"Congratulations! Congratulations, how smart everyone is! Congratulations! " She was so happy that she smiled and put something cold in my mouth. After I was shocked, I suddenly remembered that this is the so-called Fuju, and the bitter days of the New Year are finally over, so I can get out of bed and play.

She taught me many things, for example, when a person dies, he should not be said to be dead, but must be said to be "old"; People who have died and given birth to children, don't walk into the house; When a grain of rice falls to the ground, it must be picked up, and it is best to eat it; Never drill under the bamboo pole for drying trousers. Besides, I have basically forgotten it now, only the strange ceremony on New Year's Day can be remembered most clearly. Bottom line: it's all so complicated, it's still troublesome to think about it.

However, there was a time when I had unprecedented respect for her. She often says "long hair" to me. Her so-called "long hair" is not only Hong Xiuquan's army, but also all the bandits and robbers later, except the revolutionary party, because it did not exist at that time. She has long hair and speaks horribly. They can't understand what she is saying. She said that long hair went to town, and the whole family fled to the seaside, leaving only a porter and an old mother who cooked. Later, long hair did come in, and the old maid called them "Wang". It is said that long hair should be called this way to tell her that she was hungry. Long hair smiled and said, "Well, I'll give this to you!" " "I threw a round thing with a braid, which was the head of a porter. The old cook was terrified from then on, but as soon as she mentioned it, she turned pale and patted her chest and said, "Oh, I'm so scared, I'm so scared ..."

I didn't seem to be afraid at that time, because I didn't think these things had anything to do with me. I am not a porter. But she probably realized it right away and said, "A child like you will be captured by long hair and be captured into long hair. There are also beautiful girls, but also prisoners. "

"Well, it's none of your business." I thought she must be the safest. She is neither a porter nor a child, and she is not good-looking. Besides, there are many scars on her neck.

"there? ! "She said seriously. "We are useless? We're going to be imprisoned, too When soldiers attacked outside the city, Long Mao told us to take off our pants and stand on the wall in rows so that the cannons outside could not be released. If you want to put it again, it will blow up! "

This is really beyond my expectation, and I can't help but be surprised. I always thought her stomach was full of troublesome etiquette, but I didn't expect her to have such great power. From then on, I have a special respect for her, which seems unfathomable; It's understandable that my hands and feet spread out over the whole bed at night, but I should give in.

Although this respect gradually faded, it completely disappeared, probably after knowing that she had murdered my Tibetan rat. At that time, she was seriously booed and scolded her often to her face. I think I really have no hair, I don't attack cities, I don't shoot guns, and I'm not afraid of artillery bombardment. What am I afraid of?

But when I mourn the hidden mouse and avenge it, I am eager to draw the mountain and sea classics. This desire was aroused by a distant great-uncle. He is a fat and kind old man who likes to plant some flowers and trees, such as Zhu Lan, Jasmine and Ma Yinghua, which is extremely rare and is said to have been brought back from the north. On the other hand, his wife is confused about everything. She once put a bamboo pole to dry clothes on a branch in Cynthia, and the branch broke, even cursing angrily: "Dead body!" " The old man is a lonely man. Because there is no one to talk to, he loves to associate with children. Sometimes he simply calls us "children". In the house where we live together, only he has many books, which is very special. Of course, there are also art and poetry. But I only read Lu Ji's Poems of Shi Mao, Plants, Birds, Animals, Insects, Fish and Sparse, and many books with various names in his study. My favorite at that time was "Flower Mirror", with many pictures on it. He told me that there used to be a painting of Shan Hai Jing. It was a beast with a face, a hydra, a three-legged bird, a man with wings, a monster without a head, two breasts and eyes ... but I don't know where it is now.

I really want to see such a picture, but I am embarrassed to force him to find it. He is lazy. Ask others, and no one will answer me truthfully. There are hundreds of lucky money left. If you buy it, there is no good chance. The street where books are bought is far from my home. You can only go to play once a year in the first month. At that time, both bookstores closed their doors.

There was nothing to play with, but as soon as I sat down, I remembered the painting of Shan Hai Jing.

Probably so obsessed, even Chang came to ask what Shan Hai Jing was about. I have never told her about it. I know she's not a scholar, so it's no use talking. But since I asked, I told her everything.

After more than ten days, or a month, I still remember that it was four or five days after she left home. She came back in a new blue coat. As soon as we met, she handed me Abao's book and said happily, "Brother, I bought you a classic of Sanhu!" "

I seem to have met a bolt from the blue, and everyone was shocked; Go and take it, open the paper bag, it's four small books, turn it slightly, a beast with a face and a hydra, ... Sure enough.

I have a new respect. She can succeed in anything that others refuse to do or cannot do. She really has great power. The resentment of murdering Tibetan rats was completely eliminated from now on.

These four books are my first and most beloved treasures.

The appearance of this book is still in sight. But as far as it is concerned, it is a very rough book. The paper is yellow; The image is also very poor, even almost straight lines, even the eyes of animals are rectangular. But that's my favorite book. It looks like a beast with a face. Hydra; A cow with one foot; Di Jiang is like a bag; Without a head, Xingtian, which takes the breast as the eye and the umbilical cord as the mouth, should also "dance in unity".

Since then, I have collected more books about painting, so I published Er Ya Yin Tu and Shi Mao Pin Tu Textual Research, as well as Dian Shi Zhai Cong Hua and Shi Fang Hua. Shan Hai Jing also bought another lithograph. Each volume has a picture, a green picture, and the word is red, which is much more exquisite than that woodcut. This was still there until the year before last, and it is the epitome of Hao Yixing. The woodcut can't remember when it was lost.

My nanny, the eldest mother, has been dead for about thirty years. I finally don't know her name and experience; All I know is that I have an adopted son, probably a young widow.

Good and dark Mother Earth, may her soul be in your arms forever!