Ranking of the latest works in Chinese literature

Author: None
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: China LiteratureNew Work Rankings has been ten years old, is so far the earliest established, most genres, and largest scale literary rankings in the country. Over the ten years, the ups and downs of Chinese literary circles and every turbulent time have not changed its original intention—to rank good novels, read good novels; rank good essays, read good essays. You don’t understand, why Dongzi, before his death, accumulated so much toilet paper My Left Hand Zhong Jingjing, that night was stuffy. The police sent my friend to Ward 2 and brought me to the front of Ward 9. I was still thinking Report to the Government Han Shao Gong, when Wang Hongqi was ten years old, his parents sent him to sleep in a separate room. The sleeping room wasn’t big, and the walls were covered with newspapers. One night, he woke up in the middle of the night and found a faint light on the wall, lying there motionless for a long time. In a daze, he thought for a moment but couldn’t figure out where the light came from. The next morning, after getting up, he brought his head close to the wall again but couldn’t find that light anymore. He only saw big and small black characters jostling on the wall, like watching an outdoor movie. The bigger characters were titles An Unfinished Summer Zhong Qushi, my aunt Shujuan was awakened by her first period, not by the sound of gunfire outside Nanjing City on December 12, 1937. She ran along the dim corridor to the toilet, thinking that the strong, pungent blood smell came from her fourteen-year-old body. It was still dark, Shujuan, holding the hem of her white cotton robe with one hand and holding a candle with the other, hurriedly walked across the stone floor of the corridor. The Thirteen Beauties of Jinling Yan Ge Lin, the day I came back from the city, the azaleas had made the mountain bright, and the May sunshine was also indescribably good. But my older sister passed away that day Ballad of My Older Sister Luo Wei Zhang, they were the village chefs, smart but poor, without a master to follow, all their skills were painstakingly honed themselves, so they were different from the real chefs, and the dishes they made had a special touch Wedding Banquet Wang Xiangfu, if Liang said that the 1980s in China was the transition from the "ticket era" to the "money era," then after the 1990s, China began the transition from the "money era" to The Financial Life of the Chinese People Qu Lan, the Anti-Killing War must have something to do with slapping the face, that’s for sure, otherwise The Story of Slapping the Face Li Gang Lin, when I was a child, I liked to play and gaze at the sea outside my door. I never expected that the beach I once indulged in would now become a place that every visitor to Beihai, Guangxi, must not miss. A beach has been built An Escape in My Youth Chen Jiangong. It was still Shu Zhen this night, you fell into a dazed sleep, and when you woke up, you found that Dongzi hadn’t come back yet. You sat up, smoked a cigarette, and wondered if you should go looking for him. You vaguely suspected what had happened, but you always felt it shouldn’t take so long. You calculated in your mind: from the cement factory to Qingliang Mountain, it’s less than five miles round trip, even if they stayed on the mountain until dark, it wouldn’t take more than an hour to come back. Dongzi had left early, which means that when you met the girl by the river, he had already been on the mountain. Even if the girl arrived late (in fact, it was unlikely), the two of them had the whole afternoon. What couldn’t be made clear that had to be delayed until midnight? You put on your clothes and went out. The summer night in northern Shaanxi was still cool, you put on your long pants and still felt cold. The moonlight like water flowed into the surrounding hills, caves, and stone steps, the shadows of jujube trees were darkly cast on the ground, quiet and gentle, like a fairyland. You walked down the long steps in front of the cave and found a person sitting on the steps. Without looking, it was Dongzi. From his motionless back, you didn’t know how long he had been sitting there. You walked over and stood opposite him. You saw a pale face, a face that made you afraid, swollen, with bruises, pale and livid. You didn’t know then that you had already seen Dongzi’s face many years later lying in the coffin and among the flowers. You asked Dongzi what was wrong? Why didn’t you come back? What was going on? Dongzi’s eyes were pitch black, shining with a strange light. He murmured: I did her. Your heart gave a slight tremor, then slowly sank down, a valve opened, and a heart fell down, heavily. You should have done something, but you sat down beside him. You lied, you wouldn’t do such a thing. You said weakly. Really, I really did her. He said. I did it. Do you think I couldn’t? Do you think I wouldn’t do it for your sake? He smiled strangely, I did it! I did it! I did it! I tell you, on that riverbank, I pressed her down on the riverbank! She cried! Do you know how that bitch begged me? She begged me not to dirty her clothes, because those clothes were someone else’s, borrowed, borrowed! You don’t know why you didn’t raise your fist. You still don’t know. Maybe, it was that the blood in your veins would never boil for anyone, your blood never reached that boiling temperature, it couldn’t in the past, and it would never be able to in the future; maybe, the news was too sudden, you didn’t have time to react. You just felt dizzy. You threw Dongzi’s crazy laughter behind you and staggered up the steps. Dongzi stumbled to follow, he was more dizzy and weaker than you, so he reached out his hand at some point on the steps. It was a gesture of help. It was the hand of a person about to drown reaching out to another person. You turned around and grabbed that hand. But suddenly, you stopped. Maybe for a second, maybe for a minute, you, and he, one above and one below, your eyes intertwined. You suddenly pushed him down the steps. You pushed very hard. Dongzi stared at you with wide eyes, fell backwards, and rolled down the steps with a muffled sound. His body was very weak, and as different parts of his body hit the hard stones, they made different sounds, changing his posture, and finally, after rolling twice, he stopped moving. You stood on the steps, watching. This is what you did. You wouldn’t raise your fist to hit someone, but you could push a person in need down the steps. In the dark, Dongzi’s curled body was like a pile of soil. The soil didn’t move in the dark. After a while, the soil moved, a low, hoarse laugh came from the dark, like a snake that had swallowed a frog, thick and thin, intermittent. You turned around. You continued up the steps and came to your door. You took out the key and tried to insert it into the lock, but no matter how you tried, it wouldn’t go in. Finally, you managed to open it and went inside, reached for your bed, and sat down heavily. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, covering your face with your hands. Your head was buzzing, your hands were trembling. Your hands, uncontrollably trembling. What happened next was what Dongzi said after he came to his senses. That noon, Dongzi waited on the back slope of Qingliang Mountain for a short time, and the girl arrived soon. She was surprised to see it was only Dongzi there and asked why he didn’t come. According to their agreement, Dongzi said you had something to do and would come later. The girl believed him with some doubt. Dongzi first wanted to take the girl to see the Thousand Buddha Cave, but the girl refused, saying she had already seen it. Dongzi then suggested they take a walk on the mountain, but the girl said she wanted to stay and wait for you. Dongzi spoke intermittently, the girl reluctantly agreed, but her mind was elsewhere. After about an hour, just as Dongzi was wondering whether to reveal the truth, the girl spoke first. The girl asked Dongzi, whether he wouldn’t come at all, whether he and Dongzi had conspired to trick her. Dongzi was surprised but still admitted it. After the incident, Dongzi said he regretted his answer. He said there were many ways to avoid this question, he could make up a new reason, such as you might have been delayed by something, such as taking the girl to wait by the roadside with you and looking for you—but unfortunately, his mind was enraged by the girl’s indifference, he lost his senses. He felt humiliated. He said that in the girl’s eyes, he was like an insect. But he wasn’t an insect, he had a beautiful garden in his heart, every flower in the garden was specially for her, the flowers in the garden had long been blooming with fragrance in the wind and sun, swaying and burning to reveal all their beauty, but she couldn’t see, she refused to see, she didn’t see at all. She stood up and walked down the mountain, like a clay statue, her steps stiff. Dongzi ran up to pull her, which was his second mistake, he shouldn’t have touched her, whether it was a desperate girl or a desperate statue. Indeed, the girl struggled, she screamed, the sound was terrifying and miserable, with tears and sobs echoing on the silent mountain slope. Dongzi’s last bit of hope was shattered by this scream, like dew hanging on a spiderweb, powerless, fragile, and swaying to the ground. But at that moment, he still didn’t let go, he gripped the girl’s arm tightly, he felt that he was that drop of dew, as long as he held the girl, he wouldn’t fall. But he didn’t realize it yet when he was surrounded by an angry crowd. It must have been a group of local rural youth who heard the noise and rushed over from the path, one of whom recognized the girl. The girl’s screams ignited the usual anger of the local youth towards the intellectuals. Dongzi’s hand was torn apart by seven or eight big hands, and the girl was rescued. Not only that, his face was soon knocked hard by a heavy punch, a heavy but unorthodox punch from the mountain people, Dongzi felt the meat on his face explode with blood, the ground turned upside down and rose up, he stumbled a few steps and almost fell. But the training in fighting in groups since childhood helped him steady himself, and he struck back with a punch. The man fell, but more people rushed forward. After a few rounds, he was knocked to the ground. He curled up on the ground, the people around him, using their feet to roll him left and right, just like a master of deep-fried dough sticks flipping dough sticks in a hot wok. In the end, it was the girl who said: “Forget it, let him go.” P19-21