Zhou Ye's work "My Uncle Lu Xun"
When my uncle Lu Xun was alive, I was still young and had no idea who Lu Xun was. I thought my uncle was my uncle, just like anyone's uncle. My uncle died, and his body was lying in the auditorium of universal funeral parlour. Many people came to mourn and pay tribute to him, and some even burst into tears. Countless elegiac couplets hung all over the walls, and wreaths of all sizes filled the whole room. Workers, students and all kinds of people sent elegiac couplets and wreaths. I was a little surprised at the time. Why is my uncle loved by so many people? I looked blankly at the people who came and went to mourn, thinking that I would never see my uncle's face, hear his voice, be caressed by him again, and my tears fell drop by drop.
On the first month of my uncle's death, one day, it was Saturday afternoon, and my parents took me to my uncle's house. At that time, every weekend, we three sisters took turns to follow our parents to our uncle's house for reunion. This day at the dinner table, my uncle told me the stories and characters in Water Margin. I don't know how my uncle knew that I watched Water Margin. Maybe my father told him. To tell the truth, when I look at the Water Margin, I just swallow the dates and pay attention to the tense and moving plot. I don't know the characters and complicated contents of those heroes, and sometimes I put what this person does on that person. I was arrogant when my uncle asked me. Uncle touched his beard and smiled and said, "Ha ha! My memory is still very good. " After listening to my uncle's words, I felt ashamed and regretful, which was worse than being beaten and scolded. Since then, I have never read anything so-so.
When I left that day, my uncle gave me two books, one is Watch and the other is Little John. My uncle has been dead for many years, and I still have these two books.
Once, at my uncle's house, everyone ate around a table. I looked at my father's nose, then at my uncle's nose, and said to him, "Uncle, you are like your father everywhere except one thing."
"What doesn't?" Uncle turned around and asked me with a smile. He chewed, and the beard on his lips moved.
"Dad's nose is tall and straight, and yours is flat and flat." I looked at them for a long time before saying.
"You don't know," my uncle said with a smile touching his nose. "When I was young, my nose was as straight as your father's."
"That how-"
"But then, I hit the wall several times and smashed my nose."
"Hit a wall?" I said, "How can you hit the wall? Did you walk carelessly? "
"Do you think it is not easy to hit the wall in the dark?"
"Oh!" I suddenly realized), "Of course, the wall is much harder than the nose. No wonder I hit my nose flat. "
Everyone here laughed.
One evening, the whistling north wind roared and it was very dark. People in the street are anxious to go home. Mom and dad took my hand and went to my uncle's house. Not far from my uncle's house, I saw a rickshaw driver sitting on the ground moaning and the car was thrown aside.
We walked over and saw him holding his feet in his hands, with no shoes on his feet and a pool of blood dripping on the ground. He heard footsteps and looked up, and his weather-beaten face showed unbearable pain.
"What's the matter?" Dad asked him.
"Sir," he whispered with gray twitching lips, "I didn't pay attention. I stepped on the broken glass and the glass stuck in my foot. I can't go home because of the pain! "
Dad ran to his uncle's house, and soon came with medicine and gauze. They helped the driver into the car, one squatting and the other kneeling. My father took tweezers to clip out broken glass for the rickshaw puller, and my uncle washed it with boric acid. They drugged and bandaged him.
The coachman said gratefully, "My home is not far from here. I can carry it back. Two kind gentlemen, I really don't know how to thank you! "
Uncle gave him some money, told him to rest at home for a few days and gave him the rest of the medicine and bandages.
It was dark, and the street lamp gave off a faint light. I stood in front of my uncle's house and looked at them. Suddenly, I felt a deep chill. I feel the tip of my nose as cold as ice and my hands and feet are numb. I think, how can a rickshaw puller run barefoot on the road in such a cold day?
When my uncle and father came back, I asked them. I don't remember my uncle's answer now, except that his words are profound and incomprehensible. I looked up and asked him to give me a detailed explanation. I clearly saw it at that time, and now I clearly remember that his face no longer had that kind and happy expression, but became so serious. He didn't answer me, but put his skinny hand on my head for a long time and finally sighed deeply.
After my uncle died, I met his maid, Sam. A San is a worker's wife, and her husband is unemployed. She was so worried that her eyes were blind that she couldn't see clearly, like fog. She told me about her uncle's life. She said: "Mr. Zhou himself is so ill that he still writes articles in the middle of the night. Sometimes I feel sorry for him when I listen to his waves of coughing. " He doesn't care about his illness at all, but he often advises me to rest more and not to let me do heavy work. "
Indeed, uncle is such a person. He thinks less about himself and more about others.