Many people say that the author's words are not clear, so let's read the entire article as FD.
I could also sleep for an extra hour or two, otherwise I would be unable to bear the pain of going to bed every morning.
Having said that, everyone should still pay attention to their health. It is not good to grow old before you get old.
About an hour, an hour! Change it back, everyone should go to bed early and watch during the day.
Tokyo is nothing more than that. When the cherry blossoms in Ueno are in full bloom, they do look like light crimson clouds, but under the flowers there are also groups of "Qing students" crash course, with big braids on their heads that are as high as the tops of student hats. Rising high, forming a Mount Fuji. There are also those whose braids are untied and tied flatly, and their hats are removed to reveal a shiny look, just like a little girl's bun, and they have to twist their necks a few times. It's really beautiful.
There are a few books for sale in the concierge of the Chinese Overseas Students Association, and sometimes it's worth a visit; if it's morning, you can still sit in some of the bungalows inside. But in the evening, the floor of one room would often make a loud banging sound, and the room would be filled with smoke and dust. Ask someone who is well versed in current affairs and they will answer: "That's learning to dance."
How about going somewhere else?
I went to the Medical College in Sendai. Departing from Tokyo, I arrived at a post station soon and wrote: Nippori. Somehow I still remember the title. Secondly, I only remember Mito, which is the place where Mr. Zhu Shunshui, a survivor of the Ming Dynasty, died. Sendai is a small town, not very big; it gets extremely cold in winter; there are no Chinese students yet.
Probably because things are rare and valuable. When cabbage from Beijing is shipped to Zhejiang, the root is tied with a red-tipped rope and hung upside down in front of a fruit shop, where it is revered as "glue cabbage". Aloe vera that grows wild in Fujian is brought into the greenhouse as soon as it arrives in Beijing, and is euphemistically called "agave". ". I also received such preferential treatment when I arrived in Sendai. Not only did the school not charge tuition, but several staff members also took care of my room and board. I first stayed in an inn next to the prison. It was already quite cold in early winter, but there were still a lot of mosquitoes. Later, I covered my whole body with a quilt and wrapped my head and face with clothes, leaving only two nostrils for breathing. In this place where breathing is endless, mosquitoes have no way to interrupt, and they sleep peacefully. The food isn't bad either. But a gentleman thought that this inn also provided meals for prisoners and it was not suitable for me to live there. He said this again and again. Although I felt that it was irrelevant to me that the inn also provided meals for the prisoners, but it was hard to resist such good intentions, so I had no choice but to find a suitable place to stay. So I moved to another house, which was far away from the prison. Unfortunately, I always had to drink taro soup that was hard to swallow every day.
From then on, I saw many strange teachers and heard many new lectures. Anatomy is divided between two professors. Originally osteology. At that time, a dark and thin gentleman with a mustache and glasses came in, carrying a stack of large and small books. As soon as he placed the book on the podium, he introduced himself to the students in a slow and frustrated tone:
"My name is Fujino Yankuro..."
A few people in the back started laughing. He then talked about the history of the development of anatomy in Japan. Those large and small books were about this subject from the beginning to the present. At first, a few books were thread-bound; there were also Chinese translations. Their translation and research on new medicine were no earlier than China's.
The person sitting in the back laughing was a repeater who failed last school year. He had been in school for a year and was quite familiar with the story. They then lectured the freshmen on the history of each professor. It is said that Mr. Fujino was dressed too vaguely, and sometimes he would forget his tie. He wore an old coat in winter and was shivering. Once he got on the train, which made the conductor suspect that he was a pickpocket and called the passengers in the car. Be careful everyone.
What they said is probably true. I personally saw him once attending class without a tie.
A week later, around Saturday, he sent his assistant to call me. When I arrived at the research room, I saw him sitting among human bones and many individual skulls - he was studying the skulls and later published a paper in the school's magazine.
"Can you copy my lecture notes?" he asked.
"You can copy a little."
"Bring it to me and see!"
I handed over the lecture notes I had copied, and he accepted them. He returned them to me the next day or three, and said that from then on, he would give them to him once a week to read. When I took it down and opened it, I was surprised, but also felt uneasy and grateful. It turns out that my lecture notes have been revised with red pen from beginning to end. Not only have many omissions been added, but also the grammatical errors have been corrected one by one. This continued until he finished teaching the subjects he was responsible for: osteology, vascular science, and neurology.
It's a pity that I didn't work hard at that time and was very willful at times. I still remember that one time Mr. Fujino called me into his laboratory, pulled out a picture from my lecture notes, which showed the blood vessels of the lower arm, pointed at it, and said kindly to me:
"Look, you moved this blood vessel a little bit - naturally, it does look better with this move. However, anatomical diagrams are not art. The real thing is like that, and we can't change it. Now I will change it for you. Okay, from now on you have to follow the drawings on the blackboard."
But I was still not convinced, so I agreed verbally, but thought in my heart:
"I still draw the pictures well; as for the actual situation, I naturally remember it in my heart."
After the end of the academic year, I went to Tokyo to spend the summer and returned to school in early autumn. The results had already been announced. Among more than 100 classmates, I was in the middle, but I didn't fail. This time, Mr. Fujino's assignment was anatomy practice and regional anatomy.
After about a week of internship in anatomy, he asked me to go again. He was very happy and said to me in a very restrained tone:
"I heard that Chinese people respect ghosts very much, so I was worried that you would not dissect the corpse. Now I am finally relieved that there is no such thing."
But he also occasionally made things difficult for me. He heard that Chinese women have their feet bound, but he didn’t know the details, so he wanted to ask me how to bind the feet and what kind of deformity the foot bones had become. He also sighed: "You have to take a look to find out. What is going on." Woolen cloth?"
One day, the student union officer at my level came to my apartment and asked to borrow my lecture notes. I checked it out and gave it to them, but they only checked it once and didn't take it away. But as soon as they left, the postman delivered a very thick letter. When I opened it and read it, the first sentence was:
"Repent!"
This is a sentence from the New Testament, but it was recently quoted by Tolstoy. It was the time of the Russo-Japanese War, and Mr. Toto wrote a letter to the emperors of Russia and Japan, which began with this sentence. Japanese newspapers criticized him for being disrespectful, and patriotic youths were also angry. However, secretly they had long been influenced by him. Secondly, it roughly means that the topic of last year's anatomy test was marked in Mr. Fujino's lecture notes and I knew it in advance, so I was able to achieve such results. The end is anonymous.
I just recalled something that happened a few days ago. Since there was a peer meeting to be held, the secretary wrote an advertisement on the blackboard. The last sentence was "Please come to the meeting and don't miss anything", and added a circle next to the word "miss". Although I thought it was ridiculous at the time, I didn't mind it at all. Only now did I realize that the word was also mocking me, as if I had the problem the teacher had leaked.
I informed Mr. Fujino about this matter; several classmates who were familiar with me were also very dissatisfied and went to criticize the rudeness of the clerk for pretexting the inspection and asked them to publish the results of the inspection. Finally, the rumor was eliminated, but the clerk tried his best to withdraw the anonymous letter. In the end, I returned the Tolstoyan letter to them.
China is a weak country, so of course the Chinese are imbeciles. If the score is above 60, it is not their own ability: no wonder they are confused. But then I had the fate of visiting and shooting Chinese people. In the second year, Tian taught mold science. The shapes of bacteria were all shown in movies. After a paragraph was finished but before the get out of class ended, a few movies showed current events. Naturally, they were all about Japan's victory over Russia. But there were Chinese people caught in the mix: I worked as a detective for the Russians, was captured by the Japanese army, and was about to be shot. There was also a group of Chinese people watching around me; there was also me in the lecture hall.
"Long live!" They all clapped their hands and cheered.
This kind of cheering happens every time I watch a movie, but to me, this one was particularly harsh. After that, when I returned to China, I saw those people who were just watching the execution of prisoners. They also cheered like they were drunk - Wow, it's unthinkable! But at that time and place, my opinion changed.
At the end of the second academic year, I went to find Mr. Fujino and told him that I would not study medicine and leave Sendai. His face seemed a little sad, and he seemed to want to speak, but he didn't.
"I want to study biology. The knowledge my husband taught me is still useful." In fact, I didn't decide to study biology because I saw him feeling a little sad, so I told him a lie to comfort him.
"Teaching anatomy and the like for medicine is of little help if you are afraid of biology," he sighed.
A few days before he left, he asked me to come to his home and handed me a photo with the words "Farewell" written on the back. He also said he hoped to give mine to him. But I didn't have time to take any photos at this time; he then told me to take photos and send them to him in the future, and he also sent letters to him from time to time to tell him about the situation thereafter.
After I left Sendai, I hadn’t taken a photo for many years, and because the situation was boring, talking about it would only disappoint him, so I was afraid to even write a letter. More and more years have passed and I have no words to talk about, so although I sometimes want to write a letter, I find it difficult to write. Until now, I have not sent a letter or a photo. From his side, it seemed that there was no news since he left.
But somehow, I always remember him. Among the teachers I consider him, he is the one who makes me most grateful and encourages me. Sometimes I often think: His enthusiastic hope for me and tireless teachings are, in a small way, for China, hoping that China will have new medicine; in a big way, they are for academics, hoping for new medicine. spread to China. His character is great in my eyes and heart, although his name is not known to many people.
I have bound the lecture notes he corrected into three volumes as a permanent souvenir. Unfortunately, seven years ago when I was moving house, a box of books was destroyed and half the box of books was lost. It happened that these lecture notes were also lost. Only his photograph is still hanging on the east wall of my Beijing residence, opposite my desk.
