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The painter brother, the writer's brother, together achieved "Born Like a Summer Flower": the first half of the life of the enemy, the second half of the life of the partner

My brother used to be called Zeng Yun, watching me change my name, I also pondered for a few nights, and added a "Dai" word to the back to feminize the male name. I guess my brother added this "Dai" word has two meanings: one is related to his ideal of being a painter, when he changed his name, he liked to paint landscapes; the other is related to lin daiyu, the heroine of "Dream of the Red Chamber"--in his youth, my brother liked Lin Daiyu, liked it too much, and also painted Lin Daiyu, took out a "Dai" character from Lin Daiyu's name, and integrated it with his own name - inscription

Fight brothers in battle, father and son soldiers, and at key moments, also look at the family.

Can the same parents have a good relationship?

This is a difficult question to answer, especially when the brothers are both literary and artistic fans, both have two brushes, and no one obeys anyone, the traditional bad habit of the literati being light on each other is even more prominent, becoming the main theme of brotherly relations.

It is said that the brothers Su Shi and Su Rui, who were among the eight great masters of the Tang and Song dynasties, were closely related, grew up to become officials, and after running to things, they often sang and expressed their brotherhood with poetry. In my opinion, this is a rare exception, which is why it has been celebrated for generations. The relationship between Lu Xun and Zhou Zuoren, the modern brothers of the great literary heroes who ran counter to the "Second Su", seemed to be more convincing--the two brothers did not have the same three views, did not buy each other dirty, and even made trouble until they died and did not communicate with each other, and did not forgive each other until they died.

My brother and I, although not as bad as the Zhou brothers, could not urinate in a pot, and they were far less intimate with each other than those of childhood partners and teenage classmates and friends—this kind of discord seemed to be innate, and it had been like this since I can remember. Many of the memories of my childhood are almost forgotten, but the fragments of being beaten and beaten by my brother are still fresh in memory, constantly appearing in dreams, bringing unhappiness to the mood - the more I try to forget, the more memorable it is, and it is not too much to say that it is a psychological shadow.

My brother is strong, tall, hot-tempered, powerful, and can't stop using his fists to reason—whether I'm right or wrong. In my memory, my brother liked to be out of tune, wearing floral plaid shirts, jeans, love to pull gangs, and do some chicken and dog theft (of course, not stealing chickens and dogs, to fill his belly, stealing some fruit from the production team). When doing these things, my brother wants me to be his little follower, to advance and retreat with him, and to give him a sense of boss prestige. If I don't, the fist falls and the slap incites. The two things I remember most about childhood are related to my brother's fist.

When he was six years old, in order to avoid family planning, his parents went from Qidong, Hunan to Yongxin, Jiangxi, and joined his uncle who was beating bricks and kilns. Half a year later, my uncle was ordered by his parents to come back to pick up our children and go to Jiangxi to meet his parents. Loved ones are reunited, and adults and children are very happy. In the afternoon, a large number of children from my uncle's family took us around the town seven or eight miles away. We live deep in the mountains, walk two or three miles up the mountain road, get on the road. The road is on the opposite side, and between the path on this side and the road on the other side is a big river, and the river rushes down and the water is turbulent. When I came back, everyone returned along the same road, and my brother naturally did not take the road, took the path, he thought that the path was closer, and there was no need to go home. No one else had walked the path, no one had responded to him, and he pulled me along with him. I disagreed at first, but after a punch and kick, I had to obediently follow the strange path behind his ass. Walking and walking, there was no way, I said go back, he did not want to; walking, it was dark, I could not see the five fingers, and the path back could not be seen. At this time, my brother remembered that the other side of the river was a road, and as long as he got to the opposite side and got on the road, the way home became simple. He was less than ten years old, and he had to carry me, who was less than seven years old, and swim from this side to the other side of the river. I cried and cried, and I was beaten by him again. The two men were deadlocked for a while, and I was so frightened by him that I had to lie on his back, and the two of them went into the water. Maybe their lives should not be extinguished, and when the water reached their necks, their parents and uncles came all the way with a large group of people, carrying torches. They shouted as they searched on the opposite road, and my brother and I retreated from the river to the shore and sat down to wait for them to come and answer. The adults left two to talk to us non-stop and soothe our emotions, while the others followed the road, took a detour to town, walked the path, found us, and took us back. If the adults show up two or three minutes late, maybe there will be nothing in this world for me and my brother.

When I was seven years old, one afternoon in the early summer, I was not yet in school, and my brother came back from school, stole half a bottle of wujiapi (a kind of liquor) from his father, got drunk, got excited, and chased me. I was beaten by him and my nose was blue and swollen, and when he stopped fighting, I got up, and subconsciously went to my parents who were working to seek refuge, and he was afraid that I would file a complaint - he beat me, did not allow me to cry, did not allow me to file a complaint, and chased after me. Fortunately, he was drunk, the momentum was frightening, and his footsteps were hesitant, and he did not catch up. My parents made bricks and tiles on the other side of the river, and I climbed with a rolling belt and climbed up the small bridge made of three trees leading to the other side of the river. When I walked to the middle of the bridge, my brother also went up the bridge. He knew that he was drunk, it was easy to fall into the river across the bridge, so after getting on the bridge, he did not chase, but he did not easily let me go, he jumped up and down at the head of the bridge, the wooden bridge was tossed up and down by him, the swing was swinging up and down, the more to the middle, the more severe the shaking, I was scared to lie in the middle of the bridge, dead hugged the bridge, did not dare to move, my brother was overwhelmed, haha laughed. If the villagers hadn't seen him, stopped him, and pulled him ashore, I might have been thrown into the river by him—I hadn't learned to swim yet.

This kind of thing, in my growing years, happened from time to time, not uncommon, until the third year of junior high school, the situation has improved, but it is also like a strange road, do not answer each other much: under the same roof, I read my books, I write my articles; he reads his books, he draws his paintings, like it has nothing to do with it, he does not play with me, I do not play with him, and I can't talk about learning. Sometimes, the housework that needs to be completed by two people working together, because of his strength, it may be more effective to match him with him, but I would rather do it slowly than find him, only looking for my sister and sister to help - my brother is the little bully of the family, bullying me, bullying my sister, bullying my sister, and even with my father who is in his prime, every once in a while, he will fight, so that my parents are heartbroken and heartbroken. In my mother's words, my brother and father, one belonging to fire, one belonging to water, how the two are incompatible, how to become a father and son, it is really incomprehensible - of course, most of the reasons my father beat my brother is because he bullied us both. My mother said that if my brother can't go to college, he will be a "village bully" in the village in the future.

After high school, although my brother stopped beating me, our relationship did not improve much, and it was difficult to get together. Of course, it is not calm. At this time, we have a vendetta against each other, and one of the far-reaching things is the consideration of the future of the little sister. The little sister is beautiful, smart, talented, drawing, composition are among the best in the school, and have participated in the competition and won the first place. I want her to learn to write articles with me, and my brother wants her to learn to draw with him. Little sister is very judge the situation, think that the road of literature, the college entrance examination is not a specialty, it is too difficult to reduce the score of admission, so opportunistic, and my brother learned art, became an art student. This matter has always been difficult for me to let go - in my opinion, the little sister is the most spirited and talented in the family, if you engage in literature, you can become a master, better than me. In my mother's words, those who engage in art are all opportunistic slackers. As a result, after the little sister graduated from college, she did not engage in painting, went to the sea to do business, and did things that were incompatible with the professional style, which was a waste of talent and made people sad.

When I grew up, the root of the disagreement with my brother was the disagreement between the three views. Thinking about the problem, I like to think in a different position, look down on fame and fortune, and think more about others, so I have suffered a lot of losses, including being cheated of a lot of money. My brother often thinks from his own point of view, and he can't afford to lose anything. When we become adults, each in each city, each with its own family, we also rarely communicate, even if we go home together to accompany our parents for the New Year, he accompanies his guests, I accompany my friends, he plays with him, I play with mine, and the well water does not violate the river water - only when eating at a table and Chinese New Year's Eve fireworks at night, we have intersection in time, there is cooperation in action, and it looks like two brothers to outsiders.

Of course, they are all born of a parent, and it is unrealistic to say that we have no similarities, for example, we all have dreams, we all cling to our dreams, perseverance, and suffering. My brother loves to draw, and he has never wavered for decades; he loves to write, and he has never given up for decades— my brother's dedication to painting even exceeds my dedication to writing. He painted, from a young age, he forgot to eat and sleep, winter and summer vacations to the famous mountains and rivers across the country to sketch, you can ignore nothing, pick up the painting clip, say go away; for painting, he hangs his head over the beam, cone thorn stock, the more frustrated and courageous, a large number of years old also applied for the Hunan Normal University art graduate school, but also naturally joined the Hunan Provincial Artists Association.

Frankly, my brother's paintings, I don't rate highly. In my opinion, his paintings, the foundation is good, but lack of aura, placed in the Hunan range, perhaps OK, but did not reach the realm of a first-class master. In Beijing, because of the cluster of people and the unique conditions, I came into contact with many of the country's top level calligraphers and painters - looking at the paintings of the masters a lot, and then looking at my brother's paintings, I can see flaws at any time - maybe I was prejudiced, and when I looked at him and his works, there was a mixture of the resentment of my childhood.

But my brother has no heart and no lungs, and he has never been so careful about me -- maybe he has long forgotten about the violent beatings and beatings I had when I was a child, and he has more and more respect for me, some words, parents can't say him, I can say him - in his opinion, I am indeed a brother who makes him proud, in his circle of friends, he blows me up - although he never praises me to my face. There are many people who praise me, but no one else blindly likes me and my works like him, and spares no effort to promote them, which is a bit too much in the eyes of others.

After all, it is a brother, I have always wanted to improve the relationship with my brother, and now that I have grown up, I have become a father, I have become a parent, I have experienced more, and I am not so calculated. I know that the road of painting is more difficult than literature, and sometimes I want to help him, because his persistence makes people move: now he only knows how to bury his head in painting, is not good at selling himself, loves and hates clearly, does not like what he does not like, and will not deliberately hide himself, let alone cater to others. But the interlacing is like a mountain, I have contacted him to the publisher, and I have recommended his works to the auction house, but they have not succeeded.

In 2021, when writing and publishing the novel "Born like a Summer Flower" with revolutionary themes, when communicating with the editor, a spark suddenly appeared, if you put some illustrations in the book, just like the villain book you read when you were a child, is it more interesting? When he told the editor about the idea, the teacher was very supportive; when he told my brother about the idea, he agreed with great emotion and immediately threw himself into the illustration creation. The whole book has more than twenty chapters, one chapter and one illustration, he reads while creating, more than 20 illustrations, which were completed in two weeks, and his illustrations add a lot to the book. Many readers and friends chatted with me and said that there were illustrations in the book, which was very interesting and contrasted with the text. In the next few books that are being published, the editors of the publishing house have told me that it is best to have illustrations, and it seems that this form is approved by the editors of the publishing house.

I wrote books, my brother drew illustrations, and "Born like a Summer Flower" was the real beginning of our brothers' career cooperation. I hope that my brother and I will be able to continue this form of cooperation until I don't write that he doesn't paint—perhaps, this is one of the few ways for my brother to promote the paintings for him and let the works spread and pass on.

A writing, an illustration, maybe in this way can make readers and friends like it more, so that our works can go wider and circulate longer. My brother is over half a hundred years old, and I'm approaching half a hundred. It's good to be able to find this way of cooperation, I'm very happy, I believe he is also very happy - although my brother likes oil painting, the major he studied is also oil painting, the book illustrations given to me are oversized, and it is not the kind of painting he likes, and many painting techniques are not useful! It seems that he finally learned to accommodate me, our brothers, in the last life made enemies, the next life to be career partners!

My brother's name is Zeng Yundai. Like me, I grew up and changed the name given by my parents unsatisfactory. My former name was Zeng Gao, and when I was in my third year of junior high school, after I had the ideal of being a writer, in order to encourage myself to stand tall and go far, I added a "fly" word to the back. My brother used to be called Zeng Yun, watching me change my name, I also pondered for a few nights, and added a "Dai" word to the back to feminize the male name. I guess my brother added this "Dai" word has two meanings: one is related to his ideal of being a painter, when he changed his name, he likes to paint landscapes; the other is related to lin daiyu, the heroine of "Dream of the Red Chamber"--in his youth, my brother liked Lin Daiyu, liked it too much, and also painted Lin Daiyu, taking out a "Dai" character from Lin Daiyu's name and integrating it with his own name.

March 27, 2022 Inside the Right Gate, Beijing

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