The main content of "The Qinhuai River in the Sound of Oars and Shadows of Lanterns"

One night in August 1923, Uncle Ping and I swam along the Qinhuai River; Uncle Ping was the first to swim, and I was starting over. We hired a "seven-board boat" and got off the boat when the sunset had gone and the bright moon was coming. So the sound of the oar was gurgling - gurgling, and we began to appreciate the taste of the Qinhuai River with its rose-colored history.

The boats in the Qinhuai River are better than the boats in Beijing's Wandi Garden and the Summer Palace, better than the boats in the West Lake, and better than the boats in Yangzhou's Slender West Lake. The boats in these places either feel stupid, or they feel simple and cramped; they cannot arouse the emotions of the passengers, just like the boats on the Qinhuai River. The boats on the Qinhuai River can be roughly divided into two types: one is the big boat; the other is the small boat, which is the so-called "seven boards". The hatch of the ship is wide and can accommodate twenty or thirty people. It is furnished with calligraphy and painting and smooth mahogany furniture, and the tables are all inlaid with cold marble surfaces. The window panes are very finely carved, giving people a soft and delicate feeling. The windows reflect red and blue glass; there are exquisite patterns on the glass, which is also quite pleasing to the eye. Although the scale of "Qibanzi" is not as large as that of a big ship, its light blue railings and spacious cabin are enough to express human feelings. But the best part is in front of its cabin. In front of the cabin is the part on the deck. There is a curved top on the top, supported by sparse railings on both sides. There are usually two rattan lounge chairs inside. Lying down, you can chat, look into the distance, and look at the river houses on both sides of the river. This is also found on big ships, but it's even more beautiful on a small ship. Under the roof in front of the cabin, there are all hanging lights; the number of lights, light and dark, the fineness, thickness, brightness and darkness of the lights are different. But at least I'll give you a piece of cake. This lantern is really the most attractive thing. When night falls gradually, lights are lit on ships large and small. The radiating yellow astigmatism is reflected from the double glass, and a hazy haze is reflected; through this haze, wisps of bright ripples are teased in the dim water waves. In this mist and ripples, listening to the leisurely intermittent sound of oars, who can not be led into his sweet dream? I just worry about too many dreams. How can these big and small boats carry them? We were talking vaguely about the beauty of the Qinhuai River in the late Ming Dynasty, such as those recorded in "The Peach Blossom Fan" and "Banqiao Miscellaneous Notes". We were so fascinated. We seem to have seen with our own eyes the scene when the lanterns reflected the water and the boats rippled. So our ship became a heavy load of history. We finally suddenly realized that the reason why the boats on the Qinhuai River are more elegant than other places and have a strange attraction is actually due to many historical memories.

The water of the Qinhuai River is green and gloomy; it looks thick but not greasy, or is it condensed with gold powder from the Six Dynasties? When we first boarded the boat, it was still dark, and the rippling soft waves were so peaceful and gentle, which made us dream of vast water and sky, and at the same time, we longed for a state of drunkenness and wealth. When the lights are on, the gloom turns into darkness: the dim water light is like a dream; the occasional flash of light is the eyes of the dream. We sat in front of the cabin, and because of the bulging ceiling, we seemed to be always walking forward with our heads held high; so we, as if we were flying in the wind, looked at the boats moored in the bay, and the revolving lights in the boats. Such figures are like the lower world, far away, and like looking at flowers in the fog, all hazy. By this time we had passed the Lishe Bridge and saw the Dongguan Point. Along the way I heard intermittent singing: some came from the brothels along the river, and some came from the boats on the river. We know clearly that those songs are just conventional words, mechanically uttered from raw singing voices; but after they have been blown by the summer night breeze and swayed by the water waves, they have become more than just words when they reach our ears. It was their singing, mixed with the whispers of the breeze and the river. So we had to be attracted, shocked, and immersed in this song. Turn around the bay from Dongguantou and soon reach Dazhong Bridge. The Dazhong Bridge has three arches, which are very wide, just like three doors. It makes us feel that our boat and us in the boat are so colorless when passing under the bridge. The bridge bricks are dark brown, indicating its long history; but they are all intact, which makes people breathtaking at the beauty of ancient engineering. There are houses with wooden walls on both sides of the bridge. There should be a street in the middle? These houses are dilapidated, and the traces of smoke over the years have obscured their former beauty. I imagine that when the Qinhuai River was at its peak, a house was built on such a grand bridge. It must have been painted splendidly and it must have been brightly lit at night. Now there is only darkness left! But the houses built on the bridge allow us to somewhat imagine the prosperity of the past; this is nothing more than a comfort. After passing the Dazhong Bridge, we arrived at the Qinhuai River where the lights and the moon shine together and music plays all night long; this is the true face of the Qinhuai River.

Outside Dazhong Bridge, it was suddenly empty, which was very different from the densely packed houses on both sides of the bridge. At a glance, the sparse forest, the pale moon, and the blue sky look like a scene of crossing a deserted river; over there, there are thick bushes, gloomy, and seem to hide boundless darkness: it is almost... I don’t believe it is the prosperous Qinhuai River. But the dizzying lights in the river, the vertical and horizontal painted boats, the melodious rhyme of the flute, and the squeaking sound of the harp finally made us get to know the Qinhuai River as green as green as old wine. The sky here is more exposed, so we feel that night comes later; from the clear water shadow, we feel only the thin night - this is the night of the Qinhuai River. Outside of Dazhong Bridge, there was originally a Fucheng Bridge, which the boatman said was the end of our travels, or the end of the prosperous Qinhuai River. My feet once stepped on the ridge of Fucheng Bridge when I was thirteen or fourteen years old. However, I never saw the Fucheng Bridge when I visited the Qinhuai River twice. I know that there is always a future, but I often feel that it is a bit illusory.

I think it's better not to see it. It was midsummer. After we got off the boat, with the new night coolness and the breeze on the river, the summer heat gradually dissipated. When we arrived here, it suddenly became enlightened and our bodies suddenly became lighter - the gentle breeze blew on our faces, hands, and clothes. I felt a new chill. The sunshine in Nanjing is probably not as intense as in Hangzhou; the summer nights in West Lake are always hot and the water seems to be boiling, but the water in the Qinhuai River is always so cold and green. Regardless of the longing for your figure and the disturbance of the song, it will always seem to be separated by a thin layer of green gauze; it is always so quiet and coldly green. We left Dazhong Bridge and could not walk more than half a mile, so the boatman rowed the boat aside, stopped the oar and let it rest. He thought that it was the peak of prosperity, and beyond that it would be desolate; so let us appreciate it for a while. He himself squatted quietly. He was used to this scene, and he was probably just an incompetent person. This is absolutely necessary, whether it rises or sinks, in short, it is higher than us.

The river was very lively at that time; most of the boats were moored and the other half were moving back and forth on the water. The ones parked are all on the side near the city, and our ship is naturally among them. Because it's a little crowded here, it feels very sparse over there. As each boat passes by, we can draw its gentle shadow and meandering waves in our hearts; it is obviously empty and quiet. At that time, singing and the shrill sound of the harp were everywhere, and there were indeed very few round throats. But the harsh, crisp tone can give people a youthful, careless and informal feeling, which is exactly what we want. Moreover, listening more or less from a distance, because the beauty of imagination and desire always feels more interesting; and the noise of competition, the uneven melody, the chaos of distance, and the noise of musical instruments combine to form another meaning. The homophony also makes us feel at a loss as to what to do, as if we are following the strong wind. This is actually because our hearts have been dry for a long time and become fragile. Therefore, if we moisten them occasionally, we will become crazy and unable to control ourselves. But the Qinhuai River is indeed boring. Just like the human faces in the boat, whether they are moored with us or pass by our eyes, they are always blurry or even indistinct; no matter how you open your eyes and wipe your canthus, they are always blurry or even vague. Dirt is in vain. This is really enough for people to think about. Where we parked, the lights were dim; but these lights were all yellow and haloed. Huang couldn't understand anymore, and it became even more difficult when he was dizzy. The more lights there are, the worse the dizziness becomes; in the interlacing yellow stars, the Qinhuai River seems to be enveloped in a mist of light. The light and mist are dizzy, and everything is only the outline; so the detailed curves of the human face disappear from our eyes. But after all, the light cannot take away the moonlight over there; the light is muddy, but the moonlight is clear. In the chaotic light, there is a clear glow, but it is really a miracle! That night Yue'er had lost two or three points of weight. She only put on her makeup in the evening, and her hair was covered with luxuriant hair. The sky is lovely blue, like a pool of water; the moon is even more energetic. There were three or two weeping poplar trees on the shore, their faint shadows swaying in the water. Their soft branches are bathed in the moonlight, like beautiful arms, entwining and holding each other; and like the moon's hair. Occasionally, Yue'er peeked at us from their intersection, looking like a shy little girl. There are several unknown old trees on the shore, standing bare and shining in the moonlight. But he seems to be a spirited old man. In the distance - almost to the skyline, there are only one or two white clouds, which are so bright that they appear brilliant, like beautiful shells. Under the white clouds is a dark outline; it is an irregular curve drawn at random. This scene is very different from the flavor in the river. But the lamp and the moon can coexist and blend together, making the moon become a lingering moon, and the lamp shines with a faint spiritual brilliance; this is why Heaven is thick with the Qinhuai River, and it is also the reason why Heaven is thick with us.

At this time, they encountered difficult disputes. There was originally a kind of singing girl on the Qinhuai River who made singing her profession. I used to sit on the tea boat and sing some big songs. It starts at one o'clock in the afternoon every day; when it stops, I forget. There is also one in the evening. Also in the yellow halo light. When I was in Nanjing before, I went there twice with my friends. Because there were too many faces in the teahouse, I felt uncomfortable and finally couldn't figure out why. The year before last, I heard that singing prostitutes were banned. Somehow, I thought about it several times - but couldn't think of anything. When I came to Nanjing this time, I first went to see the tea boat. I felt quite lonely, which made me feel sad for no reason. Unexpectedly, they were still struggling in the Qinhuai River. Unexpectedly, they would entangle us, so I was very nervous. They also ride on the "seven planks" and they always sit at the front of the cabin. Petroleum vapor lamps were lit in front of the cabin, and the light was dazzling: those sitting below could obviously see every detail - and this was where the power of seducing the guests came from. Hidden in the cabin were the musicians and others, squirming in the afterglow of the gas lamps; they would never be noticed. There were about two geishas in each boat; it was getting dark. Their boats were constantly going about business just outside Dazhong Bridge. No matter whether the boat is running or moored, everyone will come to pick it up. This is all what I figured out later. That night, for some reason, our boat suddenly came on. Our boat was parked well, and a singing boat rowed toward us; it gradually came alongside our boat. The bright light made us frown; it brought out all our dirty looks, which made me hesitate. At that time, a waiter came across the boat, holding an open book of songs, thrust it into my hand, and said, "Please order a few times!" When he crossed over, there seemed to be many eyes following us on the boat. At the same time, there seemed to be many bright eyes looking at our boat from other boats nearby.

I'm so embarrassed! I also pretended to be generous and glanced at the geishas, ??but it didn't work after all! I reluctantly folded the song, but I couldn't read a few words clearly. I quickly handed it back to the waiter and said sheepishly, "No, we... don't want it." He gave it to Uncle Ping. Uncle Ping turned around, waved his hand and said, "No!" The man still refused to leave. Uncle Ping turned around again, shook his head and said, "No!" Then the man returned to my place. I was too embarrassed to refuse him again. Then he left with disdain. My heart immediately dropped, as if a heavy weight had been lifted. We began to confess.

I said that I was oppressed by the moral law and rejected them; I seemed very sorry in my heart. This so-called apology is for them and for myself. Although they don’t have very extravagant hopes for us, there is always some hope. We reject them, no matter how good the reasons are, but it hurts their hopes; this is always a bit unsightly. This makes me feel very sad. As for myself, I have a greater sense of inadequacy. At this time, I was seduced by the singing from all sides and surrendered; but the singing from far away always seemed to scratch an itch through heavy clothes. The more it scratched, the less it scratched the itch. So I longed for the wonderful sound that hit my ears. When the singing boat came, my longing turned into hope; I looked forward stubbornly, like hunger and thirst. Although from superficial experience, we can also infer that the sweet singing will strip away all the beauty; but for an ordinary person like me, who would want to use the power of reason to vilify the future? I'd rather lie to myself. However, my social sensibility is very keen; my thinking ability can break through the zoetrope of moral law, but my emotions were finally subdued by it, and I had some scruples, especially when it was obvious to everyone. The power of moral law is originally given by the people; in front of the people, its majesty is naturally displayed. While I was looking forward to it, I felt two prohibitions: first, in the popular sense, approaching prostitutes is an illegal act; second, prostitutes are an unhealthy profession, and we should treat them with the utmost care. If you have a feeling of sadness rather than joy, you should not listen to their songs for pleasure. These two thoughts flourished most strongly in me in public. They temporarily overpowered my desire to listen to music, which resulted in my gray rejection. At that time, my mind was in an abnormal state and I felt quite confused. We went to the Song Fang, and after the temporary peace, my thoughts surged again. Two opposite meanings went back and forth in my mind: selling songs is different from prostitution, listening to songs is different from being a prostitute, and what kind of moral thing is it? ——But, but, since they are forced to sing as a career, their songs must not have any artistic taste; not to mention their life experience, we should sympathize with them after all. So it’s okay to refuse. But in the end these ideas never left me wanting to listen to the music. It is incredibly strong; it always wants to trample other thoughts under its feet. From this struggle, I felt a strong sense of inadequacy. This feeling of inadequacy made my heart feel uneasy and I couldn't even sit up or sit down at peace. well! I admit that I am a selfish person! Uncle Ping is different from me. He quoted Mr. Zhou Qiming's poem, "Because I have a wife, so I love all women, because I have children, so I love all children." ①

①The original poem is, "I am for He loves children only for his own children, and he loves women only for his own wife." See page 48 of "Snow Dynasty".

You can see what he means. He rejected the geishas because of his extended sympathy, love and respect for them. Under such circumstances, he naturally thought that listening to the song was an insult to them. But he also wanted to listen to music, although not the same as me, so of course there was a small battle in his heart; the result of the battle was that sympathy won. As for the moral law, it has nothing to him; because he is very inclined to despise everything, he is not very aware of the power of the people. At this time, the activities of his mind were relatively simple and weak, and he was still at ease after the story; but I couldn't. Here again, Uncle Ping is taller than me.

In the middle of our conversation, two more singing boats came. The waiter asked us to order a show just like before, but we refused just like before. I was embarrassed three times and felt even more uneasy. The clear night view also adds to the beauty. The boatman probably urged us to go back because he had to catch a second business trip; we agreed without hesitation. We gradually became far away from those dim yellow lights, and only the deserted moonlight followed us back to the boat. Our boat has no company, and the night on the Qinhuai River is long! When we got near Dazhong Bridge, we met an incoming boat. This is a plank boat carrying prostitutes, pitch black without any light. There was a prostitute sitting on the bow of the boat. From the secret, she could see that she was wearing a white flowered shirt and black bottoms. She was playing the huqin in her hand and singing the tune of Qingshan. She sang loudly and roundly; when her ship sailed past like an arrow, the lingering sound was still lingering in our ears, making us listen and yearn for it. Unexpectedly, during Numo’s travels, I could appreciate such a clear song! At this time, the boat passed the Dazhong Bridge, and the dense water shadow was like a huge mouth of darkness that was about to swallow our boat. We looked back at the dim yellow light with great attachment; we felt lonely! The night is very dark in this section, and there are lights on both ends to invite us; not to mention the lights outside the bridge, there are also sparse lights on the east end of the bridge after crossing the bridge. We suddenly looked up and saw Su Yue, who was leaning on someone, and we felt deeply regretful that we had returned so early! After passing the Dongguan Point, there were one or two large boats moored in the bay, and several more boats were coming towards us. There was a loud burst of singing and talking, as if we were laughing at our unaccompanied boat.

Turning around the bay at Dongguan, the night on the river becomes darker; from the brothels near the water, threads of light shine out from the gaps in the curtains; it is as if the darkness has blinked out of a deep sleep. We faced each other in silence, listening to the gurgling sound of the oars, almost falling asleep; but in the haziness, we were lingering on the aftertaste of the prosperity just now. My restless heart becomes more active in silence! At this time we all had a sense of inadequacy, and mine felt even more intensely. But we just didn't want to go back, so we could only feel regret and bewilderment. The boat was filled with sorrow. It wasn't until I was suddenly startled by the slightly noisy sound of people under the Lishe Bridge; the scene was different. In the river houses on the right bank, the windows were all wide open, and flickering electric lights were on inside. The light from the electric lights hit the water, twisting and shining, like the arms of a dancing fairy. Our ship is already in her arms; as if sleeping in a cradle, we are tired and fall asleep again. The figures under the electric light just feel like ants, let alone thinking about them. This is the last dream; unfortunately it is the shortest dream! Darkness fell in front of us repeatedly, and we saw one or two stars on the empty ships on the shore, dull and wavering lights. We woke up from our dreams and knew we were about to go ashore; our hearts were filled with disillusionment.

Completed on October 11, 1923, in Wenzhou.