There is a river outside the Mogao Grottoes. There is a clearing on the other side of the river, and several stupas are built high and low. The tower is round and looks like a gourd. It is painted white. Judging from the collapse of several towers, a wooden stake stands in the center of the tower, surrounded by yellow mud, and the base is made of blue bricks. Monks and abbots in Mogao Grottoes have never been rich, which can also be proved from here. As the sun sets and the north wind blows, this dilapidated tower group is even more desolate.

There is a tower, which is well preserved because it was built recently. There is an inscription on the tower. I was suddenly surprised when I saw it. Its owner turned out to be the king!

It is recorded in history that he was a sinner in Dunhuang Grottoes.

I have seen his photos, wearing homespun cotton-padded clothes, with dull eyes and timid. He was a common citizen in China at that time. He used to be a farmer in Macheng, Hubei, and fled to Gansu to become a Taoist. After many twists and turns, it unfortunately became the seat of the Mogao Grottoes and dominated the most splendid culture in ancient China. He received little money from foreign adventurers and asked them to carry away countless boxes of Dunhuang cultural relics. Nowadays, experts from Dunhuang Research Institute have to bear the burden of humiliation and buy microfilms of Dunhuang documents from foreign museums again and again, sighing and walking towards the magnifying glass.

You can vent your anger on him. However, he is too humble, too small, too ignorant, and the biggest dumping is nothing more than casting pearls before swine for an indifferent expression. Let his ignorant body fully bear this heavy cultural debt, even we will be bored.

This is a great national tragedy. Wang Daochang is just a clown in front of his body in this tragedy. A young poet wrote that that night, when the adventurer Stan was ready to set off with a team of ox carts full of boxes, he looked back at the gloomy sunset in the western sky. There, the wound of an ancient nation is bleeding.

two

I really don't know how a Buddhist holy place can be taken care of by a Taoist priest. Where have all the cultures in China gone? Why do they never mention the reason of Dunhuang when they talk about it?

At that time, it was the beginning of the twentieth century, and European and American artists were brewing a breakthrough in the new chronicle. Rodin is sculpting in his studio, Renoir, Degas and Cezanne are in the late stage of creation, and Manet has exhibited his Lunch on the Grass. Some of them admire oriental art, and Dunhuang art is in the hands of Taoist king.

Taoist Wang gets up early every day and likes to walk around the cave, just like an old farmer, watching his house. He is a little dissatisfied with the murals in the cave and looks a little dizzy. I wish it were brighter. He found two helpers and brought a bucket of lime. Put a long handle on the grass brush, soak it in the lime bucket and start his painting. The first time lime was painted too thin, and the color was still faintly visible. The farmer told him to do things seriously, and he brushed it carefully for the second time. The air here is dry, and the lime will soon dry. There is nothing left. Laughter in the Tang Dynasty and clothes in the Song Dynasty are all white in the cave. Taoist simple and honest smile, by the way, inquired about the market price of lime. He calculated that it was unnecessary to brush more caves for the time being, so let's brush these. He put down the brush handle philosophically.

When the walls of several caves were completely painted, the plastic sculpture of the middle seat was too eye-catching. In a clean farmhouse, their graceful posture is too ostentatious, and their gentle smiles are a bit embarrassing. The Taoist priest remembered his identity. As a Taoist, why don't you get some Shi Tian and Lingguan Bodhisattvas here? He told his assistant to borrow some hammers to bend the original plastic sculpture. Things are not bad, only a few times, graceful posture into pieces, gentle smile into mud. It is said that there are several masons in the neighboring village. They invited them, mixed some mud and began to build his celestial spirit officer. The mason said that he had never done this kind of work, and the Taoist comforted him. I might as well mean that. So, just like an urchin making a snowman, here is the nose, here are the hands and feet, and finally you can sit still. All right. Get more lime and paint it. Draw a pair of eyes and a beard. It looks decent. The Taoist priest took a deep breath, thanked several masons, and then made the next plan.

Today, when I walked into these caves, I felt pale in the face of pale walls and strange images. I can hardly speak, and my eyes are shaking with those brushes and hammers. "Stop it!" I cried out in pain at the bottom of my heart, only to see the Taoist king turn his face and be full of doubts. Yes, he is tidying up his house. Why do idle people make trouble? I even want to kneel down to him and beg him in a low voice, "Please wait, wait …" But what are you waiting for? My heart is still pale.

three

1900 In the early morning of May 26, 2000, Taoist Wang still got up early and tried to clear the accumulated sand in a cave. Unexpectedly, when the wall shook, it cracked a crack, and there seemed to be a hidden cave inside. Road flyover Wang was a little strange and quickly opened the cave. Wow, it's full of real antiques!

Taoist king doesn't understand it at all. This morning, he opened a door that caused a sensation in the world. This cave will establish a permanent learning place. Numerous talented scholars will devote their lives to this cave. The glory and shame of China will be swallowed up by this cave.

Now, he is lying in the cave with a tube. Of course, he can't understand these things, but he thinks things are a bit strange. Why did the wall crack when I was here? Maybe this is God's reward for me. Next time I go to the county seat, I'll pick up some scrolls and show them to the county magistrate. By the way, I'll talk about this miracle.

The county magistrate is a civilian and has some weight. Not long after, Ye of Gansu Academic Station also learned about it. He is an epigrapher and knows the value of caves. He suggested that Fan Tai transport these cultural relics to the provincial capital for safekeeping. But there are many things, the freight is not low, and the bureaucrats hesitate. Only the Taoist king took out some cultural relics again and again and distributed them around the officialdom.

China is poor, but as long as you look at the luxurious life of these bureaucrats, you will know that you will never be poor enough to support this freight. Not all officials in China are uneducated. They also dug up the unearthed scrolls in the bright and clean study, speculating on the writing dynasty. But they don't have that childlike heart, and they are determined to protect the heritage of the motherland. They gently touched their beards and told their people, "When, please ask that Taoist to send some more!" " "I have a few pieces. Wrap them up. They are birthday gifts for Beijing officials.

Just then, scholars, sinologists, archaeologists and adventurers from Europe and America came to Dunhuang, not far from Wan Li. They are willing to sell all their property to pay for smuggling one or two cultural relics back. They are willing to endure hardships, risk being buried in the desert, and even get ready to be beaten and killed, and come to this newly opened cave. They lit thick smoke in the desert, and China officials were drinking tea in the living room.

Without any checkpoints and formalities, foreigners went straight to the cave. The hole is made of brick, locked, and the key is hung on the belt of Taoist Wang. It is a pity for foreigners. At the last stop of their sprint in Wan Li, they didn't meet the heavily guarded cultural relics protection official residence, the indifferent museum curator, or even the guards and doormen. Everything turned out to be this dirty Taoist priest. They had to shrug their shoulders humorously.

A simple chat will tell you the taste of Taoist priests. The original plans are redundant, and all the Taoist priests want is the easiest small business. It's like exchanging two needles for a chicken and a button for a basket of vegetables. Repeat this exchange account in detail, maybe my pen pal is not very calm. I can only say briefly: 1905, 10 In June, Russian Brou Chev exchanged a lot of documents and scrolls with him with a little Russian goods; 1907 In May, Hungary exchanged a stack of silver dollars for 24 boxes of warp rolls and three boxes of woven silks and paintings. 1July, 908, Frenchman Pelliot exchanged a small amount of silver dollars for ten carts, more than 6,000 notebooks and scrolls; 19 1 1 year1October, Japanese Koichiro Yoshikawa and Zuicho Tachibana exchanged more than 300 volumes of writing books and two Tang sculptures at unimaginable low prices; 19 14, Stan came again for the second time, and he still exchanged a little money for five boxes of more than 600 volumes. ……

Taoist priests also hesitated for fear of offending God. It's easy to get rid of this hesitation. That Stan coaxed him that he admired Tang Priest very much and came to China from India to learn the scriptures this time. Well, since it's a foreign Tang priest, take it away. The Taoist king opened the door in high spirits. There is no need for any diplomatic rhetoric here, just a few existing fairy tales. Box after box. One cart, another cart. All packed and tied. Whoops, the motorcade is leaving.

I didn't go to the provincial capital because the master said there was no freight. Ok, and then ship it to London, Paris, Petersburg and Tokyo.

Taoist king nodded frequently, bowed deeply and sent him a ride. He respectfully addressed Stan because "the Secretary-General is afraid of making promises" and called pelliot "the owner of the bay is afraid of making peace". He has some heavy silver dollars in his pocket, which is hard to get in ordinary charity. After saying goodbye, I thanked Master Si and Master Bei for their "charity". The motorcade has left, and he is still standing at the intersection. In the desert, two deep ruts.

When they returned abroad, Stan was warmly welcomed. Their academic reports and expedition reports always arouse thunderous applause. They often mention the eccentric Taoist king in their narratives, making foreign audiences feel how important it is to save this legacy from such a fool. They constantly hinted that it was their long journey that made Dunhuang documents move from darkness to light.

They are all pragmatic scholars, and academically, I can admire them. However, in their discussion, some very basic premises were forgotten. It's too late to argue now, but a few lines written by a contemporary China youth to Lord Elgin who burned down Yuanmingyuan came to my mind:

I hate it.

Hate that I wasn't born a century earlier.

So I can stand in front of you

A gloomy castle

A field with morning dew.

Either I pick up the white gloves you left behind.

Either you catch the sword I threw.

Why don't you and I each ride a horse?

Stay away from the handsome flag that covers the sun

Leaving the war is like a cloud.

Win or lose.

These poems may be too difficult for this group of literati. But I really want to stop their motorcade in this way. Stand at each other in the desert. They will say, you can't learn; Ok, let's find a place first and sit down and compare our knowledge. We can do anything, but we can't quietly take away the legacy left by our ancestors.

I can't help sighing again. What if the motorcade is really stopped by me? I was going to send it to the capital, regardless of the freight. But wasn't there really a batch of cave literature sent to Beijing at that time? The scene is that there are no wooden cases, only mats are tied, and officials along the way reach in and get one. Where to rest, they have to leave some bundles. As a result, it was scattered and deformed when it arrived in Beijing.

How many volumes of scriptures can such a big China preserve? Compared with the scene of being tortured by a large number of officials, I sometimes even want to say: I would rather leave it in the London Museum! This sentence is not very comfortable after all. Where should the motorcade stopped by me go? It's difficult here and there, so I can only let him stop crying in the desert.

I hate it!

four

I'm not the only one who hates it. Experts from Dunhuang Research Institute hate me more than I do. They don't want to confess, just keep a straight face and study Dunhuang documents for decades. Literary films can be bought from abroad, and the more humiliating they are, the more dense they are.

When I went, an international seminar on Dunhuang studies was being held in Mogao Grottoes. After the meeting a few days later, a Japanese scholar explained with a heavy tone: "I want to correct a past statement." The results of these years show that Dunhuang is in China and Dunhuang studies are also in China! "

Experts in China are not too excited. They left the meeting silently and walked past the death tower of Taoist Wang.