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    The Story of Square-Round Well

    2024-01-01 00:00:00HeTianchang
    中國新書(英文版) 2024年4期

    The Deep Flow of Xiaoshui River

    He Tianchang

    China Overseas Publishing House

    April 2024

    59.80 (CNY)

    This book is a collection of the author’s prose works written in recent years. The book is divided into four parts. With the background of both sides of Xiaoshui River, the main source of the Xiangjiang River, in the form of prose essays, this paper sorts out and analyzes the history and humanities and the enlightenment left to the present people, shows the endless life picture of the people along the river, eulogizes the rich and distinctive regional culture of southern Hunan Province, and builds the spiritual home of the source of Hunan culture.

    He Tianchang

    He Tianchang, pen name Tian Riyue, is a member of the Chinese Minority Writers Association, the Chinese Prose Literature Association, and the Hunan Writers Association.

    I

    Square-Round Well is hidden in the northeastern corner of Thousand Flower Valley.

    The name “Thousand Flower Valley” was certainly not the original name of this place. Any discerning person can see that it was renamed by literary scholars and artists.

    Of course, this is not uncommon, similar to the Qiyang Yuxi renamed by Yuan Jie, Lingling Yuxi was renamed by Liu Zongyuan, and Lushan Lianxi renamed by Zhou Dunyi. Local chronicles record, “The mountains and waters of Yongzhou flow out from Yongzhou.” In this county of Shuangpai, where “Yong waters flow out,” there has always been a rich cultural heritage. The renaming by literary figures naturally carries certain sentiments. But this remains a game of the literati; to the ordinary citizens, the original name of the place doesn’t seem that important.

    People, tired of the oppressive buildings and noisy streets of the city, long for the scent of the soil, the charm of the plants, and the songs of the birds and insects, and inevitably develop the desire to stroll through the countryside. Thousand Flower Valley, located just five or six li north of the city, creates an idyllic rural atmosphere, embodying the concept of living a leisurely and serene life. The area is gentle and flat, close to the beautiful mountains and clear waters, with flowers blooming in the valleys. As seasons change, each valley perfectly places dreamy, romantic, peaceful, and leisurely sentiments and atmospheres. Being here, one feels as if they have instantly arrived at a paradise far from the city, returning to the serene and natural rural life, finding a haven for their soul.

    This secluded corner named Square-Round Well is one of the most pleasant spots among them.

    II

    As the name implies, Square-Round Well consists of two wells, one square and one round, closely adjacent and interconnected. The round well, about 1.5 meters in diameter, is used for drinking water; the square well, about two meters square, is for daily washing. This perfectly embodies the traditional meaning of “the sky is round, the earth is square,” achieving harmony and balance.

    Every place nurtures its own people. The origin of Square-Round Well is naturally similar to other wells. For a place to accommodate people to live and work, water is indispensable. The concept of feng shui (wind and water) inherently includes this life source. Beside Square-Round Well, there is a small village named Gelian Chong, where most villagers have moved to the city, leaving behind slightly dilapidated houses. However, traces of the self-sufficient and prosperous life of the former residents are still evident. Hence, the bustling activity around the well in its past can be easily imagined.

    Over the years, this well that nourished dozens of households and witnessed changes in their lives gradually fell into disuse. But the smooth bluestone slabs around the well often conjure a vivid picture in one’s mind: one day after lunch, a few village women come to the well to fetch water, carrying buckets and family laundry. They squat by the well, beating clothes with wooden paddles while chatting happily or venting their frustrations--discussing neighbors, family affairs. Children, like little shadows, play and chase around the well, splashing water and throwing stones. The rhythmic sound of beating clothes, the occasional cries and laughter of children, and the incessant chirping of cicadas blend together, creating a lively and vibrant scene.

    When the Thousand Flower Valley scenic area was developed, this abandoned well was recognized by the developers. After some cleaning and renovation, the spring gushed forth again, filling the pool with clear water. A pavilion was added for protection and embellishment, instantly enlivening the scene.

    Water is the source of all life. Now, around this well, dandelions, vetch, plantain, houttuynia, wormwood, violets, wild asters, alfalfa, and other flowers and plants sway in the breeze. The water outlet is surrounded by thriving water celery and calamus. Such scenes can easily evoke a sense of nostalgia in those who have left their homeland. Knowing they are not in their hometown, they still cherish the place as if it were their long-lost home. This is how the old scenery stirs our emotions, making it easy to evoke a sense of nostalgia. I believe this is why some people, like me, are willing to repeatedly and tirelessly visit this ancient well.

    III

    Those who hold a deep longing for their hometown are often the ones who left with determination in their youth to explore the wider world, eventually settling far from home. Even as their horizons broaden and their circumstances change, sharing in the prosperity of the city, their hearts can never forget the land and waters of their hometown. Whenever they have the chance, they wish to return and take a look.

    Perhaps family members are still there, but they cannot withstand the toll of time; perhaps the old house still stands, but the brick walls are inevitably mottled. The hometown is no longer the same as it was in childhood. If the hometown has an ancient well, it will be easy to find her location. Approaching it, though, one will likely see her disrepair, covered in neglect and overgrowth. Triggering a feeling of melancholy--realizing that the hometown has aged, and they themselves are no longer the youth they once were. Inadvertently, a feeling of melancholy is triggered, my hometown has grown old, and my returning self is not the young man of the old days.

    When people talk about homesickness, they almost always mention a particular well from their hometown. A well serving as a landmark of the hometown. For, to a village and its people, a well is not only important but is also associated with countless stories and indelible memories. In my childhood, to make a living, I often accompanied my mother to carry vegetables along mountain roads to the market. Thirsty and tired on the way there, hungry on the way back, we would always find a mountain spring to drink from. Often, we knelt on one knee, bent down, cupped our hands to scoop the water, washed our faces first, and then drank the refreshing gift. After a brief rest, we would feel rejuvenated to complete the remaining journey. The first time I visited Square-Round Well, I also drank from it in this humble posture, like a baby crawling into its mother’s arms, a gesture of humility. I believed that only by showing reverence to the well could one touch the spiritual source hidden among the rocks and lush vegetation, truly deserving of her nourishment.

    The stream flowing from Square-Round Well, though shallow and thin, stirs my imagination of “distant places.”

    This trickling stream joins the Xiaoshui River two li away, flows into the Xiang River a hundred li down, and then into the Yangtze River a thousand li away, encountering white clouds, foggy mist, woodcutters’ songs, fisherman’s tunes, waves, legends, women washing clothes, old men rafting, boatmen’s chants, and flying egrets along the way, until it finally reaches the sea. Just like myself and many other wanderers, who turned their backs on their hometowns to venture into the world, experiencing countless people and events, tasting the bittersweet of life, growing through the alternations of warmth and conflict, and stepping onto a new stage in life. At the same time, they have spent most of their lives “l(fā)eaving their homeland and the homeland’s well.”

    When people leave their hometown, they often glance back, seeing their father or mother waving goodbye. As they walk farther away, they gradually only see the direction of home--the peak of the highest mountain, which is then called “home mountain.”

    From then on, the location of that mountain remains permanently etched in their minds and hearts. For at her foot lies the ancestral house where they were born, and halfway up the mountain rests the bodies and souls of their ancestors. It is the land where their mother gave birth to their flesh and blood. When returning to their hometown, as they get closer and the mountain peak comes into view, their heart murmurs, “Oh, finally home.” Having been away for so long, the sight of a small bluestone bridge or an ancient tree, especially the well that nourished them, is long remembered until it becomes a spiritual homeland for the wanderer, allowing them to be with it in their dreams.

    So, as the stream from the well flows away from its source, moving slowly forward, encountering obstacles like rocks or branches in the brook, it is as if “hometown” is holding it back; the eddies created by the flow symbolize its reluctance or farewell to the “hometown.” The stream flows so low, destined never to look back at its “home mountain.” Once it merges into rivers and seas, does it still miss its “hometown?” Will it lose its way back home? How can it return?

    The nature of water is lofty. It flows low but returns high, transforming into vapor, rising to the clouds, carried by a breeze of longing, and then falling as rain or snow back into the well, returning “home.” This is truly a triumphant return, a glorious homecoming!

    IV

    Du Fu’s poem The Beauty says, “In the mountains, the spring water is clear; out of the mountains, the spring water is muddy.” The spring water is originally clear, but as it flows out of the well and carries along mud and sand, it naturally becomes turbid, losing its original purity without realizing it. We ordinary people are much the same.

    As we hurry along our paths, traversing dusty environments and encountering one pool of dirty water after another, we almost grow accustomed to it. Because muddy water cannot reflect our image, it is difficult to notice the dust on our faces. The well water, however, is like a mirror. Standing beside a clear spring, the water as clear as a mirror naturally reflects a true image of myself. If I remain clean and pure, I can be pleased; if I find myself covered in dust, I can use the clear water to wash it away, just like in my youth at the well in my hometown. The water cupped in my hands drips through my fingers, occasionally seeping into my neck and flowing to my chest, bringing a refreshing coolness, much like hearing an elder’s admonition from home: washing off the dust from one’s face is easy; cleansing the dust from one’s soul is much harder.

    Sitting quietly by the well, examining my somewhat tired face and reflecting on my somewhat weary spirit, I can rediscover the bright, innocent face that the well water has preserved as a snapshot. Yet, if a small water strider suddenly jumps into the well, disturbing the water’s surface, I am instantly brought back to reality.

    Thus, the Square-Round Well in Thousand Flower Valley has become a place I occasionally like to visit, to stay a while, and daydream alone. I’ve heard that water, once drunk, enters the bloodstream within three minutes after passing through the stomach and intestines. Standing by Square-Round Well, I bend down to scoop the water and drink it heartily. Moments later, looking at the veins on the back of my hand, it seems as if I can see a clear stream flowing within, and I feel refreshed and invigorated. At that moment, I always imagine that I have returned to my hometown.

    We, who are often helplessly carried along by life, may not have many days to physically return to and find peace in our hometown. But we can often step into Thousand Flower Valley, cherish this Square-Round Well, and nurture a deep-seated connection to the hometown that resides in our hearts.

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