Prose describing meaningful things

Many of Lin Qingxuan's essays are expressions of ambition, such as Muyu wonton;

Visiting friends in Linyi Street in the middle of the night, I happened to meet an old man who sold wonton many years ago in the alley. Although he has a hunchback because of the weather, he is still happy and funny.

More than four years ago, I lived in Linyi Street and often worked late into the night. At about 1: 30 in the morning, a crisp wooden fish will always ring into my window facing the street. The sound of wooden fish is punctual and rings every morning, even if it is windy and rainy.

At first, the sound of wooden fish gave me a mysterious feeling, which often made me stop my work, looked at the sky outside the window with ecstasy and kept thinking: Who knocked at the sound of wooden fish in the middle of the night? What does it symbolize? Is there anyone chanting near my residence at 1 every morning? In the folk, there used to be monks knocking on wooden fish to announce the dawn. At dawn every day, they wear cassock sandals and shuttle through the streets, holding wooden fish in their hands and knocking out a deep and long voice. I have always felt that the sound of knocking on wooden fish to report Buddha is an excellent proof of the integration of Buddhism and folk life in China.

One day in winter, there was a faint light rain in the sky. I am reading a beautifully printed diamond sutra. The sound of wooden fish just came from a distant alley, which made people feel that science had no promise. I sat up with my clothes on and my umbrella on, determined to find the place where the wooden fish made a sound.

The wooden fish knocked hard and penetrated the rain all over the sky. It knocked and stopped, suddenly far and near, unlike the wooden fish that fell sharply when chanting in the temple. I followed the sound track and hurried through the alley. Far away, I saw a little old man, wearing a wide cloth and felt hat, pushing an old booth car and staggering from the other end of the alley. There is a 40-candle light bulb hanging on the booth, swaying in the light rain tunnel as the road bumps. The sound of wooden fish that has always puzzled me is what the old man knocked out.

As soon as I approached, I realized that it was just an ordinary stall selling wonton. I asked the old man why he chose to play with wooden fish, and his answer was simple. He said: Old customers who like to eat my wonton will run out to buy wonton as soon as they hear my wooden fish. ? I can't help being speechless. It turns out that wooden fish is just a simple signal to him, just like a bell shaken by a farmer selling tofu pudding in the countryside or a horn in the hand of a vendor selling ice water to attract children. But Muyu couplets think too far for myself. In fact, sometimes it is just a tool for hard life.

The old man also saw my disappointment and said, Sir, please have a bowl of my wonton. It is made entirely of lean meat without any onions. Even the chefs in the hotel like my wonton very much. ? So I abandoned the evil spirits of wooden fish, stood in front of a red door with an umbrella, lit a small lamp on the old man's stall and ate a bowl of wonton. In the storm, I tasted the wonton made by the old man, which was really delicious on earth, no less than the wooden fish knocked in his hand.

Later, I gradually became a loyal customer of the elderly. Working until the early hours of the morning every day, I heard his wooden fish far away and waited for him in the alley. After eating a bowl of wonton, I began to continue my unfinished work.

After getting familiar with the old man, I realized that he chose wooden fish as the signal of wonton with his unique ingenuity. He said that because his business is in the middle of the night, he really can't think of a tool that can be heard by people far and near without waking the sleeping people. Besides, he felt that it was beneath his dignity to make a hullabaloo about in the middle of the night like a rice dumpling seller. Finally, he chose Muyu-so that the waking people can hear his call without disturbing the dreams of the sleeping people.

Wooden fish will always be wooden fish. No matter what angle you look at it from, it still has its loveliness, that is, it is used in a wonton stall. I ate the old man's wonton for more than a year, and I didn't lose touch with him until I moved, but I still often miss him and his wonton whenever I work in the quiet night.

The old man is an ordinary person in the corner of our society. He has been selling wonton in Linyi Street for 30 years and has become a famous person in nightlife in that area. Of course, he is confident in the wonton carefully packed in iron boxes after cooking by himself, and the wonton he sent with the sound of wooden fish has become a golden signboard in that area. Muyu is a part of life for him and the people who eat wonton.

[13] When I met the old man that day, he was still wearing a cloth and knocking on the wooden fish for thirty years, but the old man had completely forgotten me. I think time is just a string of sounds to him. I stood in the alley and watched him slowly push away the stall car and disappear into the corner of the alley. I can still hear the sound of wooden fish crossing the night sky, warming the hearts of late sleepers.

The wooden fish in the wonton stall is really beautiful and full of the beauty of life. That's what I thought when I left. Sometimes it doesn't matter whether I read the Bible or not.