Hutong series: Inner Hutong

The hutong in the gate is also called "Inner Hutong". Generally speaking, this kind of hutong is a big family, living in a big yard in a manor-like way. Families live separately and have to go in and out from one place, so it is an "inner alley". For safety reasons, an archway-style gatehouse was built. This layout is not big. In the past, many rich people in rural areas yearned for the days like "big house gate", built their own comfortable nests and formed their own humanistic characteristics. There are about a dozen such "inner hutongs" in our village, most of which are formed because of the separation of various bosses, and there is no outer door, which has become an open dead end or half alley.

Later, I pecked carefully, and there was a very important geographical reason for the hutong I talked about. When their ancestors built houses here, they chose to rely on the East Ancient Huaihe River and the front Shahe River. Maybe it was a pond a few years ago, then a trench more than ten meters deep, and a pond in the west. It can be said that it is surrounded by water on three sides and backed by big trees. This is a land of feng shui. The exit only goes from the north to the street in the village, forming a unique "inner alley" for their big family. Later, with a large population, they set up their own doors and shared this "inner alley".

Today, there are no traces of these hutongs in Gone for Never, and my memory of them still stays in the fifties and sixties. The archway building without a gate is rooted in my mind. In fact, it doesn't matter whether there is a gate or not. I've never seen what kind of door this is. What is important is the rich connotation in this "inner alley", which readers may be interested in.

As far as I can remember, this "Neihutong" tribe has three grandfathers and five grandfathers' elders. The three grandfathers don't have much impression, so there is no memento mori. Grandpa Wu is a "character" in the village. What impressed me most was that he could play suona and huqin. There was a Peking Opera team in our village in the early 1950s, which could perform more than 60 literary and martial arts dramas. Every winter, he toured the local area and took part in the county performances. Grandpa Wu has been in this troupe for decades, and it will be old when the song ends. Everyone in the village knows that Grandpa Wu's Jinghu is "glib". Without special training, it sounds good but not rigorous, and sometimes it goes out of tune. What he is good at is "keeping his mouth shut", that is, once an actor sings wrong or out of tune, he can successfully deceive the audience. In fact, this is also a work. On the stage of Beijing Opera in the village for decades, you can always hear his mellow and melodious piano and trumpet sounds. You don't have to ask, you know that Master Wu is playing the piano. Because other people's piano sounds are domineering and blunt, only his piano sounds are like the trickling water of Shahe Cliff.

Grandpa San's three sons are the backbone of the Beijing Opera team. The eldest son plays drums and gongs, the second son is the master of the troupe, Hua Dan, and the third son is very young. Grandpa San's second son is very famous. He not only looks handsome, but also has a mellow voice, and won the championship among all the actors in Tsing Yi Hua Dan. Because my father is an opera fan, and he also plays roles such as Hua Dan, when I was a child, I often followed him to other villages and often played at my uncle's house in Hua Dan. I remember that at that time, his family lived in a wing, which should have been given to him by Third Master's East Wing, and the patio was also very large. In the evening, three or five people get together and the second uncle sings. On summer nights, his elegant voice passed through the night sky and floated with the wind, which quickly attracted many people. Naturally, Grandpa Wu came with the Hu Qin, burping and toothache, and so did his uncle and the opera fans in the village. Now that I think about it, this is the "literary salon" in the countryside. Although they are short of materials, they are rich in spirit.

Our village Peking Opera team is famous because of a good student and a good Tsing Yi. In the early 1960s, the provincial Peking Opera Troupe toured Changle County, and dozens of Peking Opera Troupes in our village walked hundreds of miles into the city to watch. That night, "Wu Jiapo" was performed, and it happened that the main actor had a bad cold, and the head of the provincial Peking Opera Troupe was scratching his head. Someone in the county knew that the troupe of Bozhuang Village was coming, so they went out to find actors to replace them. After the play is over, people still don't know that it was performed by a small student of Daobozhuang troupe. Let's get this straight. The actors from the province are of high quality. Look at that minority. He wants to be decent and have a say ... The other one plays Uncle Hua Dan in Tsing Yi. He has a good voice, a mellow singing voice, a clear speech and a quick mouth. One year, he went to a neighboring village to perform "Two Butterflies". At that time, his wife just died. Singing to the emotional place, she may still remember the pain of losing her wife, but she is unable to kneel on the stage and sing opera repeatedly. The audience didn't know the internal reasons and thought it was a plot. Looking at the crying actor, many viewers also cried. Thousands of viewers were moved by the plot and the actors' acting skills.

1in the winter of 984, the Beijing Opera team had to regroup after a period of interruption. My 60-year-old father and my uncle came to the county to find me. I had dinner with them, and they said they came to buy some costumes, but there were none in the county. They wanted to visit Weifang, and everyone chipped in some money, which was uncomfortable ... I understood what my father and his uncle meant, so I took out all the money in my pocket, which was exactly one month's salary, about ninety yuan. Father said, give me 50, we still have 50. I went home to see a play during the Spring Festival and saw that Tsing Yi was a woman. I asked her that she is the daughter-in-law of Cunxi and has several children. Although there is something wrong with the sound of gongs and drums, there is always a sense of loss. I can't hear Grandpa Wu's melodious piano, and I can't see Hua Dan in Tsing Yi ... I left the theater with a sigh.

At the southernmost end of the Inner Hutong, that is, the innermost part, I don't know which grandfather's two sons live. The second child works in Xingtai and has met many times since he came back. The boss is an old production captain, an old salesman with a glorious history. He was in poor health and died after several years of illness. His death opened the first memorial service in our village. I saw the memorial service for the first time. There are two wreaths in front of his grave, and dozens of people line up. We were led by the teacher and stood in front of the tomb with our eyes hanging down. A brigade cadre first read "Let's have a memorial service when the villagers die" and "Some people die more than Mount Tai ..." Then he briefly described the great achievements of the old production captain, bowed three times and dismissed the meeting. There were no tears and no crying at the memorial service, and we didn't hear the crying of his child until we walked away. Later, I attended many memorial services or farewell ceremonies, but I was not as impressed as this memorial service many years ago. I know very well that at first it was an image engraved in my mind, and later it was a numb heart again and again.

More than half a century has passed, and the strong rural culture of Neihutong still appears in my mind, crossing the historical sky. In my illusion, I seem to hear the jingle of Jinghu and see the orderly niche and dancing Tsing Yi. ...

Yes, what a warm time! What passionate years!

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