Ｒｅｍｉｎｉｓｃｅｎｃｅｓ ｏｆ Ｌｕ Ｘｕｎ ａｎｄ Ｒｏｕ Ｓｈｉ Ｂｙ Ｗａｎｇ Ｊｉａｙａｎｇ

I went to Shanghai for school in 1929 at 11. In Shanghai， I lived with my big brother Wang Yuhe， 15 years senior， and Rou Shi (1902-1931)， 16 years senior， in the three-storey house at 23 Jingyu Lane， Hengbi Road. The ground floor doubled as sitting room and dining room. A writer named Cui Zhenwu lived on the second floor. Rou lived on the third floor. My brother and I lived in the attic. Lu Xun (1881-1936) and his family had previously lived in the house. After the Lus moved to another house down the same lane， Rou Shi moved into 23. Like my brother and I， Rou Shi was also a native of Ninghai， Zhejiang.

By that time， Lu Xun was a prominent writer of national renown and Rou Shi had also established himself as a novelist and translator. Rou was fond of me. He told me stories， chatted with me about the way of the world and his friendship with Lu Xun. Sometimes he took me to a movie. Rou Shi also told me about the Communist Red Army in Jiangxi Province trying to break government besieges. He mentioned that Lu Xun was highly concerned about the military developments in Jiangxi.

Lu Xun loved his son Haiying very much. Their maid and our maid were close to each other because both came from Shaoxing， Zhejiang. The maid of the Lu Xun family sometimes brought the baby over to our house for a visit to the maid at our house and I sometimes followed our maid to visit Lu Xun’s house. For this reason， I often saw Lu Xun. Lu Xun and Rou Shi were like guru and pupil. Rou Shi visited Lu Xun almost every day about translation jobs. Rou Shi always accompanied Lu to visit a bookstore run by Uchiyama Kanzo (1885-1959)， a Japanese friend. Whenever Lu Sun had a book published， Rou Shi would happily let us know， saying “Master Eldest (大先生) has published another book!”

Of the three brothers of the Zhou family， Lu Xun was the eldest and Zhou Jianren was the youngest. For this reason， we called Lu Xun Master Eldest and Zhou Jianren was known as Master Youngest (三先生). Zhou Jianren worked at the Commercial Bookstore and lived nearby in the same Lane. Whenever he came to our house to have a drink with my elder brother or Rou Shi， I would be sent out to buy Shaoxing rice wine， a bag of peanuts and three dried bean-curds (one was a reward for me).

Rou Shi played violin quite well and my elder brother was an excellent player of pipa (a plucked string instrument with a fretted fingerboard). I often heard them practice. Sometimes they played together. Everyone at the house was happy to hear they play a musical piece together.

Rou Shi made a living by writing and translating. For this reason， he needed to work in a noise-free ambience. An up and about boy， I often made big noises running up and down the wooden staircases and jumping on the floor. Rou Shi did not scold me for making noise. He talked with my elder brother， who later would caution me.

My brother now and then took photographs of us with his camera. The existing photograph of Rou Shi was taken by my brother. One day he was taking photographs in Rou Shi’s room and asked me to stand by the window and clicked. I still have this photograph today.

On January 17， 1931， Rou Shi ate lunch in our room and went out to a meeting. He never came back. It turned out that he had joined the Communist Party in 1930. He was arrested that afternoon while meeting some young progressive writers in a hotel. In his pocket was a contract between Lu Xun and Beixin Publishing House. Lu Xun was advised to go into hiding immediately. Our room was searched that afternoon and we were interrogated for our relations with Rou Shi.

In prison Rou Shi wrote my brother two letters， which Lu Xun read through my brother. In a memorial essay Lu Xun mentioned the two letters. The first letter sounded somewhat optimistic while the second emitted an aura of dismal. Rou Shi and four other young writers were secretly executed in Longhua， Shanghai on February 7， 1931.

Learning the execution in grief and indignation， Lu Xun wrote a poem in memory of his bosom friend. I was 13 that year. I felt overwhelmed by the loss of a tutor whose company I had shared day and night for over a year.

Lu Xun， my elder brother and some other fellows from Zhejiang Province decided to set up a foundation to take care of the education of the two sons and a daughter of Rou Shi. One day， I heard someone knocking the door. I answered the door and it was Master Eldest. Dressed in his usual long gown， he stroked me on the head and handed 100 silver dollars to my elder brother. For some reasons， the foundation aborted and my brother planned to return the 100 silver dollars to Lu Xun. Lu Xun wrote back saying that he would not take back the cash and suggested it be turned over to Rou Shi’s wife and let her use the money at her discretion.

Lin Danqiu took me back to Haining to study in a local school prior to the outbreak of the battle between Chinese army and Japanese invaders on January 28， 1932. I never saw Lu Xun again and I did not meet Zhou Jianren again until the spring of 1973 when I met him in a park in Beijing in celebration of May 1st. At that time I was the CPC secretary of Haidian District of Beijing and was acting as the commander in charge of the celebrating activities on that day. Zhou Jianren saw me and said to Master Mao Dun， “Do you remember him? He is the younger brother of Wang Yuhe!”

In 1984， I stopped over in Shanghai after leading a delegation to visit Japan. I took a special trip to Jingyun Lane. I lingered there for a long while. Memories of my days with Lu Xun， Rou Shi and Zhou Jianren flashed back. I thought they could rest in peace， for the peace and prosperity they had dreamed of were materializing in China.

（Mr. Wang Jiayang is honorary president of Cultural Dialogue.）