My Four Imaginary Enemies

My second daughter, Yushan, took the joint examination for overseas students in Hong Kong and was assigned to the Department of Foreign Languages at NTU as the first choice. I was relieved to hear this news, as I didn't have to worry about my four daughters marrying Cantonese boys anymore.

Of course, I am not prejudiced against Cantonese boys, and during my six years in Hong Kong, I had some cute Cantonese boys in my class, who were quite popular with the teachers, but I could not let all my four daughters be taken away by those "pretty boys" and "smart boys". However, who my daughters want to marry, to put it mildly, is their free will, to put it mildly, is karma, why should the father worry about it? Moreover, in this matter, the mother is often in the thick of things, naturally become a close adviser to the daughter, and even close comrades, the object of battle is not the boyfriend, but the father. When the father woke up, the back of the enemy, it is difficult to save the situation.

In the eyes of the father, the daughter is the most lovely time is before the age of ten, because then she completely belonged to himself. In the eyes of her boyfriend, she was at her loveliest after the age of seventeen, when she was like a graduating class, already bent on the outside. The father and the boyfriend are, by nature, at odds. For the father, there is nothing in the world more perfect than an infant daughter, the only drawback is that she will grow up, unless you freeze her for a long time, which is illegal, I'm afraid, and sooner or later her boyfriend will come on a horse or motorcycle and kiss her awake.

I did not use the freeze sleep technique of the space capsule, let the time rush, the sun and the moon turn, and then rub my eyes, how four daughters have grown up in turn, the door of the old fairy tale slammed shut, never to return. The four daughters, in turn, are Shanshan, young Shan, Pei Shan, Ji Shan. They could be lined up as a coral reef. When Shanshan was twelve years old, once, Pei Shan, who was not yet nine years old, suddenly said to a visiting guest, "Hey, I'm telling you, my sister is a teenage girl!" All the adults in the audience laughed.

Once upon a time, Pei Shan herself, who was making people laugh, and even the most childish Ji Shan, were transformed into "girls" under the magic wand of time. In the dark, there are four "young boys" are sneaking up on me, although tiptoeing, hold the sound to stop, but I feel four pairs of eyes behind, like all the bad boys, burning eyes, with mischief, just waiting for the time, will stand to the light, put on a hypocritical smile, call me father-in-law.

Of course I will not answer him. It's not that easy! I am like a fruit tree, long standing here for many years, the wind, frost, rain and dew, all have a share, in exchange for a lot of fruit, more than the load. And you, the occasional passerby, even a hand to pick the fruit, deserved the roots of the Pangui trip you a hand!

And the most annoying, but the tree's fruit, there are automatically fall into the hands of pedestrians. The tree blamed the pedestrian should not come to pick the fruit without permission, but the pedestrian said the fruit just happened to fall down, to him then just. This kind of thing, it is always the cooperation of the outside to succeed. When I got married, there was a young girl who opened the door to the thief, wasn't it? "A fortress is easiest to break from the inside." That's a good point. But there is a time for that and a time for that. The same person who hates cars when crossing the street, hates pedestrians when driving. Now it's my turn to drive.

Over the years, I have become accustomed to the company of five women, the bathroom smells of soap and perfume, the sofa is scattered with purses and hair rolls, no one at the table and I fight for wine, it is only natural. I have been jokingly calling my house a "girls' dormitory" for a long time. As the warden of the "girls' dormitory", naturally, strange male guests are not welcome, especially those with ulterior motives. However, the girls under my supervision, especially the three in front of me, have been "unstable", which reminds me of a poem by Ye Ci.

Everything has collapsed, lost focus.

My four imaginary enemies, whether tall or short, fat or thin, whether studying medicine or literature, sooner or later will be revealed from the fog of my suspicion, one by one to come forward, or roundabout, mumbling their words, or open up to the point, the big talk, in short, to his lover, that is, my daughter, sorry, from now on to lead. The invisible enemy is the most terrible, not to mention that I am in the light, he is in the dark, and there is my family "traitor" to meet, really can not be defended. I only blame the four daughters were not frozen in time, so that time can not be abducted, and society is not polluted. Now they are too old to turn back. My four imaginary enemies, the four sneaky underground workers, have also been full of feathers, what power can not stop them. The first thing to do is to take advantage of the four imaginary enemies when they are still in their infancy, to solve the matter. At least that's what the American poet Ogden Nash (1902-1971) urges us to do.

In a wonderful poem, "Song to Be Sung by the Father of InfantFemaleChildren," he says that after he gave birth to his daughter Jill, he was anxious that somehow a baby boy was growing up who, though still muddled and foaming at the mouth, was destined to steal his Jill in the future. So every time a father sees a baby boy in a stroller in the park, he can't help but change his expression and secretly think: "Could it be this guy?"

When he thought about it, he "had a murderous idea", he would unpin the baby boy, sprinkle pepper into his talcum powder, salt into his milk bottle, sand into his spinach juice, and then throw a crocodile into his baby carriage to play with him, forcing him to struggle to marry someone else's daughter in the midst of the heat and water. It is clear that the poet has already had a precedent of using his future son-in-law as an imaginary enemy.

But it was all too late. It was a big blunder not to take extraordinary measures at first, like what Nash said in his poem. The situation today, to use a common phrase in history books, is already "the invasion into the deep!" The posters and newspaper clippings on my daughter's wall and under the glass cushion of my desk, which used to be the images of Phi Beta Kappa, Bess, and David Cassidy, have now been replaced by boyfriends. At least, the beachhead position has been occupied by the invading army to go, the battle is sure to lose. I remember when we were young, this kind of photo is still classified as important, either hidden in the pillowcase, paste the dream, or in the depths of the book, occasionally turned out to look at some, which is so twenty-four hours before the eyes of the worship?

This group of suspicious imaginary enemies, in which year and month began to invade the Xiamen Street Yu House, is no longer available. Only remember that after moving to Hong Kong six years ago, the military attack on the city was replaced by a group of Cantonese speaking teenagers to take over. As for the details of the battle, you have to ask the female generals who were nominally defending the city, and I, the "faint king", can no longer figure it out. I only know that the enemy's artillery fire was first aimed at my mailbox, those skewed handwriting, long time can guess a seventh; then is focused on my home phone, "drop point" on the back of my desk, my literary garden is their sand field, overnight, there are always a dozen concussions. There were as many as nine Cantonese voices going up, which made it difficult for me to study the enemy's situation. Now that I've taken Yushan back to Xiamen Street, it's my wife's turn to fend off the Cantonese troops at the other end, and my task is much easier here, as long as I keep an eye on the Taiwanese athletes.

The letterbox was attacked, just like the silent film of the war, it does not matter yet. In fact, I would rather the amorous teenagers write love letters, so at least they can practice their composition and not waste their Chinese in the era of audio-visual education. What is scary is that the phone is shot, the series of warning rings, expanding the battlefield from the mailbox outside the door to the hinterland of the study, the silent film becomes the sound of the body calendar, the imaginary enemy is firing live bullets. What is more frightening is that the imaginary enemy really broke into town and became a flesh-and-blood real enemy, no longer imaginary fun, just like military exercises to the midway, suddenly really fought. The real enemy is visible. At the reception of a certain daughter, he occupied a corner of the sofa, and from then on the two murmured and whispered. The two of them were talking in secret, and even when they were facing each other, the atmosphere was so thick that the whole family could not breathe. At this time several sisters have long avoided far away, anyone can see that the situation is different. If the enemy stays for dinner, the air will be even more tense, as if posing for the camera. The usual duck pond table, the four sisters are now like a mime, even chopsticks and spoon seem to get the message, suddenly cautious up. They knew that the boy might not be the real son-in-law (who knows how many of the eighteen changes the baby girl has undergone?) But a faint feeling of hostility rose in my heart. I also know that my daughters are like melons that will be ripe and will one day fall off, but I hope not with this conceited boy in front of me.

Of course, the four daughters have their own misbehavior, in an irritated mood, I would like the four imaginary enemies to appear quickly, take them all away. But when that day really comes, I will certainly regret it again. I can imagine two major lonelinesses in life, one is the day of retirement, and the other is when the youngest child finally gets married. Song Qi said to me one day, "I envy you for having all your daughters around!" Is that true? I don't feel that I have anything to envy, at least not yet. Maybe I will have to wait until the youngest, Ji Shan, goes on her honeymoon with her imaginary enemy, and then we will sit together on the empty couch, flipping through their hourly photo albums, reminiscing about the old days, when six people in a car went on long trips, or the hot steam at the dinner table, when everyone shared the bright lights. There are many things in life, just like the ripples behind the boat, which are always beautiful only after they have passed. The four imaginary enemies, the four raw hands and clumsy boys, or a few more closed doors, slow to appear it.

Yuan Mei wrote a poem, the birth of a daughter said "love suspicion in the vice car", the book bag fell very interesting, but also reveals the patriarchal feudal consciousness. According to Yuan Mei, I was hit four times in a row, the hit rate is high enough. The four little girls of the Yu residence have now become four little women, surrounded by imaginary enemies, if I am asked what are the conditions for choosing a son-in-law, I am afraid I can't answer for a while. After a long time of contemplation, I might say: "In this matter, there is the marriage genealogy of the old man under the moon, no one can tamper with it, including Wei Ku, and there are two lovers who have made a vow to each other, 'two people with one heart, their interests are broken', so why should I go against the sky and be in the middle? Moreover, the lifelong event, mysterious and unpredictable, can not be reasoned in advance, after the fact can not be repented, even if given to the 21st century computer, I am afraid that can not calculate what the probability to. It is better to show generosity, pretend to be relaxed, to win a good name as an enlightened father, when the time comes, bring a private seal, to be the main bride is."

The person who asked the question laughed and pointed at me, "What do you mean by 'pretend to be relaxed'? I can see that you are not relaxed in your heart."

Of course I am not very relaxed, otherwise I would not be their father. The question of ethnicity, for example, is troubling. What if my daughter goes nuts and falls in love with a little geek who can't stop shrugging his shoulders and chewing gum? Rationally, I'm willing to be a generous citizen of the world by "having a son-in-law, no class". But emotionally, I am not generous enough to let a young man with hairy arms like an ape carry my daughter across the threshold.

It is certainly no longer the era of "strict barbarians and summer defense", but it is not necessary for a simple family to expand into a small United Nations. The person who asked laughed again and asked me if I had ever heard that mixed-race children are more intelligent than normal. I said, "I've heard of it, but I don't want to hold a genius 'mixed-race grandchild'. I don't want a gifted child to call me Grandpa, I want him to call me Grandpa." The man who asked refused to stop: "What about provincial origin?"

"Provincial origin doesn't matter," I said. "I'm the result of a Soviet-Fujian marriage, not bad, right? When my mother wrote back to Wujin from Fujian, she said someone local proposed to her. My mother's family made a fuss, saying 'So far away! How can you marry a southern barbarian? Later, my mother's family found that there was nothing suspicious about this Minnan aunt, except for the language barrier. These years, the Guangdong boy persevered and put a lot of pressure on my family, and I wouldn't be surprised if one day Min and Guangdong tied the knot. If there is a Taiwanese boy who is particularly eager to help me and whose ambition is not to talk to me about literature and poetry, I won't make things difficult for him. As for other provinces, from Heilongjiang to Yunnan, I would welcome youngsters who speak various dialects, as long as my daughter does not mind him."

"What about learning?"

"You can study anything. You don't have to be a scholar either. Scholars are often not good sons-in-law, let alone good husbands. Only one thing: you must be proficient in Chinese. If you don't know Chinese, you will bring disaster to my grandchildren!"

The guest laughed again. "Does looks matter?" He asked again.

"You are so pedantic!" This time it was my turn to laugh. "My daughter will pay attention to this kind of thing herself, why should I worry about it?"

The stupid customer wanted to ask more, but suddenly the doorbell rang. I got up to open the door and found long hair in disarray, another imaginary enemy to plunder.