The word filial piety is a very typical Confucian philosophy, and most Western philosophers consider it an outdated product. Russell even said that filial piety hinders the development of public spirit, and giving more rights to the elderly will lead to the raging of the old forces.
This view is not unreasonable, but it is undeniable that "filial piety" still has its positive meaning.
Modern research on filial piety tends to be an innate characteristic of human beings, but it needs to be triggered in a timely manner. one.
In other words, everyone is born with a strong dependence on "family", "ethnic group" and "parents".
This kind of dependence is guided and developed, and it becomes "filial piety". It drives us to strive to be the glory of our family, to yearn for family approval, and to be afraid to challenge the patriarchal structure...
And because of its congenital nature, even if people leave the "home" environment in the end, it will not disappear. It is extremely complex and extremely fragile, and it has become a major anxiety in modern society.
It can be said that the nightmare is it, and the sweet dream is also it.
From the bottom of his heart, Shang Muxiao couldn't forgive his parents, and hated the "violence" they inflicted on him, but once he heard about the new discovery of the Mei Zixun Foundation, he still couldn't be indifferent.
He didn't speak for a long time, neither speaking nor not speaking, and rarely went to the balcony to smoke a cigarette.
Sometimes silence itself is an answer.
In the end I made the decision for him.
"Let's go." I took the car keys and stood by the door to greet him.
He looked at me for a moment, walked towards me, cigarette in his mouth, and took the car keys from my hand.
On the way, he was very worried, and he opened the window and smoked two cigarettes in succession. I understood his unspeakable mood and didn't stop him, but when it came to the third one, I couldn't help but hold his hand.
"All right."
He pursed his lips, retracted his hand, and raised the window.
The traffic began to move, it was too quiet, I turned on the radio, and a gentle female voice was introducing the life of the famous German composer Brahms and playing his works one by one.
In the soothing music, we arrived at the office where the foundation is located - a secluded and quaint little villa of the last century.
Beside the small black iron gate, the white wall is covered with green vines, blooming with red trumpet-shaped flowers.
Ringing the electronic bell, knowing our intention, a male staff member came out soon to open the door for us.
"My surname is An, just call me Xiao An. Please, our president is waiting for you in the reception room."
"Has everyone else arrived?" Shang Muxiao asked.
"Mr. Shang has arrived, and Miss Shang is on her way. She said she will be there soon."
Said that Cao Cao and Cao Cao had arrived, and before he reached the gate of the villa, the bell rang again at the gate, and I faintly heard Yang Haiyang's voice.
Xiao An asked us to wait for a while, and he went to open the door. As soon as the door opened, it was indeed Shang Yunrou and Yang Haiyang.
The siblings looked at each other, said nothing, and walked in with their heads lowered.
Yang Haiyang and I gradually fell behind and began to whisper.
"Beida, do you know that... that Shang Lu and his little wife?" Yang Haiyang lowered his voice and kept his words conservative.
As soon as I heard it, I immediately knew that Shang Yunrou had confessed to him about Fang Qinian.
"Know."
Yang Haiyang almost couldn't control the volume: "Fuck you, you know?"
The villa was silent and empty, and he would have an echo if he louder. I put my index finger in front of my lips and let him tap.
He covered his mouth and said vaguely: "You know why you didn't tell me? It was too exciting for me to go. When Yunrou told me, I was numb. I really never thought about Shang Lu. ... my husband can marry a man."
I glanced at him, he let go of his hand and immediately added: "I don't mean to discriminate against your group, I just feel that this is too good to play too."
After speaking, he soon came to a tall white wooden door. Xiao An blocked the door for us. After we all entered the room, he gently closed the door and entered the room himself.
The whole reception room is full of clean and bright white, scattered with various forms of chairs and sofas. I made a rough calculation, and it is no problem to squeeze 20 or 30 people.
Shang Lu was sitting in a high-back chair with an English-style black tea cup in his hand. Opposite him was a middle-aged woman with white hair but no age. Before we came in, the two seemed to be chatting, so when Shang Lu turned to us, there was even a rare smile on the corners of his lips.
But soon, when he saw Shang Muxiao, or more precisely, when he saw Shang Muxiao's stinky face, his smile faded.
"I was talking to your dad about you just now." The white-haired woman stood up to greet us.
"Long time no see, President Tan." Shang Yunrou raised her smile politely and business-like and shook hands with the other party, "What are you talking about us? Are you talking bad about us?"
President Tan said with a smile: "You are all grown up and have found your purpose in life. If Zixun can see it, I will be happy for you."
Shang Yunrou didn't say much, but Shang Muxiao sneered.
President Tan was probably very used to Shang Muxiao's attitude. He knew how difficult he was to deal with. He didn't get angry when he stabbed him abruptly, but just looked at him helplessly.
Shang Muxiao smiled at her: "It's nothing, I just think... you guys really know how to talk."
I secretly twisted his lower back, and he hissed in pain, looking at me in disbelief, as if I had done something angry for many days.
"Speak well." His mouth was stern, but his hands were still rubbing the part of him that had been twisted by me just now.
His face softened a little, took a deep breath, apologized vaguely to President Tan, and then pulled me to the side of the couch.
Yang Haiyang supported Shang Yunrou and sat on the other sofa.
When everyone was seated, President Tan rushed to Xiao An and said, "Please bring the painting here."
The other party nodded and went to the other end of the reception room. There is a small door there that seems to lead to another space.
President Tan introduced: "We found it when we were cleaning the painting and routinely changing the frame. It was hidden behind another oil painting and was not finished. I guess that Zixun may have tried to Finished painting it, but without success…”
After a while, Xiao An, wearing white gloves, appeared in front of everyone with an A3-sized oil painting in his hand. The oil painting is covered with a white cloth, so that people can't see the content on it.
The three of the merchants sat up straight almost in unison, visibly nervous.
Yang Haiyang probably wanted his wife to relax, wrapping his arms around Shang Yunrou's shoulders from behind, and holding her left hand that was rigidly placed on his knees.
My hand tightened, I looked down, and it was Shang Muxiao who held my hand.
"That's it." President Tan walked slowly to the painting, his fingers lightly squeezed the white cloth, and while speaking, he lifted it up, "I have never seen such warm colors, although it is unfinished, but I think it's a work that is comparable to "Landscape." Personally, I would especially like you to let us show it, but... I know, it's mostly up to you."
As President Tan said, this painting is very warm, not only in color, but also in the theme it expresses. It depicts a "home", a home that is warm, warm and full of warmth.
A young woman with a pregnant belly sits in an armchair, and a little girl in a red-dotted dress puts her ear to her belly curiously and listens carefully to the movement inside. The woman caressed her head lovingly with one hand and pressed the other hand on her stomach, while the man propped up the back of the chair and stood aside, staring at them tenderly with eyes full of tenderness.
The woman is undoubtedly Mei Zixun, the little girl is Shang Yunrou, the man is Shang Lu when he was young, and the one in his womb should be the unborn Shang Muxiao.
Anyone who sees this painting will not be able to ignore the maternal brilliance on Mei Zixun's face.
It caught my eye unconsciously on her soft brows, and I couldn't help but want to be happy that she was a mother again, and I wanted to smile from the bottom of my heart.
"Oh my god..." Shang Yunrou covered her mouth with trembling and burst into tears, "she didn't destroy it...she hid it...I thought she destroyed it..."
She was completely out of control, trembling and sobbing. I have never seen her break down like this. Even if her younger brother brought a man home on New Year's Eve, she was able to entertain guests without changing her face, but now, she was crushed by a painting, and she was as hard as a painting. Steel-like shell, howling like a little girl.
Afraid that Shang Yunrou would cry and break her body, President Tan asked Xiao An to take the painting quickly.
Shang Yunrou's sobbing reverberated in the reception room, Shang Muxiao lowered his eyes, his face was expressionless, Shang Lu put the teacup on the coffee table and sighed wearily.
"We... Yunrou and I both knew about this painting, but we thought it had been destroyed by Zixun long ago." Shang Lu rubbed his temples and said, "This painting started when she was five or six months pregnant. … She got sick and couldn’t continue. It got so bad that she didn’t allow us to ask about the painting, otherwise she would be very excited. Before she died, she burned all the paintings she painted in those two years, I didn’t expect She will keep it."
President Tan found a chair and sat down and said, "I don't know if you noticed just now, there are some very abrupt gray strokes in the corner of the painting, which were added later, so I will say... She might try I tried to paint it, but it didn't work."
Shang Muxiao suddenly stood up at this moment.
"This painting has nothing to do with me. You two decide whether to show it or not. I'll go first." He turned around and extended his hand to me.
I was stunned for a while, looked at the silent businessman's father and daughter, took Shang Muxiao's hand and stood up.
On the way back, Shang Muxiao became more silent. This "silence" is not as simple as not speaking, it is accompanied by low pressure and bad temper.
On the radio, the introduction of Brahms' work continued.
"... Next, we will bring you one of Brahms' most well-known works - Lullaby in F. Because of its beautiful melody, it is often used as a repertoire for concerts by major singers."
The thick and high-pitched soprano sounded slowly in the background: "Lullaby and good night... with roses bedight... with lilies bedecked is baby"s wee bed... "
"Sleep in peace, little baby, sleep sweetly, in the quilt of roses..."
"Turn off."
Shang Muxiao's voice was mixed in, and I didn't respond immediately.
"Turn it off!!" After a while, he roared even louder, as if he couldn't bear the existence of this song for a second.
I quickly turned off the radio, and he quickly pulled the car aside.
After pulling the handbrake, he stepped back, away from the steering wheel, wiped his face, and said with a very frustrated expression.
"sorry… "
His eyes were red and his voice was trembling. I even suspected that he left the Foundation so soon because he didn't want Shang Lu and Yang Haiyang to see his tears.
I leaned over, hugged him gently, and said, "Don't be sorry, I told you, you can be less sensible."
He hugged me tightly, like a drowning man grabbing the last piece of driftwood.
"Why me?" He buried his face in my neck, tugging at the clothes on my back with his fingertips, choked up and asked, "Why is she..."
Russell's words come from his "China Question". The researcher of filial piety is Professor Zhang Xianglong. If you are interested, you can read his "Family and Filial Piety".