13 Results with the "W.H.White" tag
Definition: 怀特（W.H.White，1831—1913），英国作家。著有《马克·卢瑟福特自传》、《日志中的篇章》等。Mark Rutherford，马克·卢瑟福特，是怀特的笔名。
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The Playfulness of the Opera
In the span of twenty years, I've only had the chance to watch Chinese opera twice. For the first decade, I steered clear of it, lacking both the desire and the opportunity. Both experiences occurred in the latter half, yet neither left a lasting impression before I departed. The first encounter was in the inaugural year of the Republic when I first set foot in Beijing. A friend, keen on sharing the city's cultural offerings, suggested that I broaden my horizons by experiencing a performance. Intrigued…-
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The Playful Ducks
After the Russian poet, Mr. Elroy Shanko, who was blind, arrived in Beijing with his six-stringed lyre, he soon complained to me, "Lonely, so lonely, a loneliness akin to that of a desert!" His words likely reflect a profound truth, yet I, having grown accustomed to the city, have not felt this solitude. Instead, I find Beijing to be quite bustling. However, the very noise I perceive might be the loneliness he speaks of. It seems to me that in Beijing, spring and autumn are but a fleeting moment.…-
179.1 K • Completed
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Rabbits and Cats
In the rear courtyard of our residence, the Third Mistress, during the summer season, acquired a pair of purebred white rabbits as a delightful spectacle for her children. These rabbits, not long separated from their mother, radiated an innocence that, despite the species barrier, was palpable. Their tiny, bright red ears perked up, they sniffed the air, and their eyes betrayed a flicker of apprehension, likely sensing the unfamiliarity of their new environment compared to the comfort of their original…-
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Bai Guang
Chen Shicheng, after viewing the county examination results, made his way home in the afternoon. He had set out early, his eyes keenly scanning the list for the character "Chen," which appeared frequently, yet none were followed by "Shicheng." He meticulously searched through the twelve circular charts, but as the crowd dispersed, his name remained elusive. Alone, he stood before the examination hall's reflecting wall. A gentle breeze toyed with his grizzled hair, while the early winter sun offered a…-
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Dragon Boat Festival
Fang Xuanchao has lately been fond of the phrase "almost the same," which has become his catchphrase, deeply ingrained in his thoughts. Initially, he said "exactly the same," but feeling it was a bit too absolute, he opted for "almost the same," a phrase he's stuck with. Since he latched onto this unremarkable adage, it has sparked many new reflections, yet it has also brought him a sense of solace. For example, he used to be incensed when he saw the elderly bullying the young, but now he reassures…-
179.1 K • Completed
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The Real Story of Ah Q
Chapter One Preface For more than a year, I've been contemplating writing the definitive biography of a certain Mr. Ah Q. Yet, as I prepare to put pen to paper, I find myself reflecting on the past, a clear sign that I'm not a person of unwavering conviction. The immortal pen, they say, must record the deeds of an immortal soul. Thus, the person is immortalized through the writing, and the writing through the person – a cycle that blurs the lines of dependency. Eventually, I find myself tasked with… -
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Homecoming
I defied the piercing cold to return to my hometown, a place over two thousand miles away and separated from me by more than twenty years. It was the heart of winter, and as I drew near to my hometown, the skies turned gloomy. A cold wind howled through the cabin of my boat, and through a gap in the canopy, I gazed out at a desolate landscape under the sallow sky. A few scattered villages lay lifeless in the distance, devoid of any vitality. My heart was overcome with a profound sense of…-
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Storm in a Teacup
As the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden hues began to wane over the riverbank. The leaves of the Chinese tallow trees, just released from their parched state, were abuzz with a few mosquitoes dancing beneath them. The smoke from the farmhouse chimneys started to thin, signaling the end of the day's cooking. Women and children sprinkled water on the earthen courtyards outside their homes and arranged small tables and low stools, a clear indication that dinnertime had arrived. Elders and men…-
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Tomorrow
"No sound, what's happened to the little one?" Old Arch, with the red nose, held a bowl of yellow wine and nodded towards the next room as he spoke. Blue-skin Ah Wu then put down his wine bowl and gave him a hard slap on the back, mumbling: "You... you're lost in thought again..." Lu Town, a secluded place, still held onto some of its old customs: by the first watch, everyone would close their doors and retire for the night. The only two households awake in the deep of the night were the Xianheng…-
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Medicine
I In the late autumn night, the moon had set, and the sun had not yet risen, leaving only a dark blue sky; everything was asleep except for nocturnal creatures. Hua Lao Shuan suddenly sat up. He struck a match and lit the greasy lamp, casting a pale light throughout the two rooms of the teahouse. "Are you off, Father Xiao Shuan?" It was the voice of an old woman. A fit of coughing also came from the small inner room. "Hmm." Old Shuan listened, responded, and fastened his clothes; he reached out…-
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