我最早開始記錄夢境是在1975年前後，那時我正在農場偏遠的漁業隊工作。那一年，有三個夢在記憶裡歷歷在目、經久不散：
一、夢裡來到一棟大氣磅礴的水晶玻璃大樓面前。那樓造型簡練方正，看起來沒框沒架，卻有多層。透過晶瑩剔透的玻璃牆，隱約可見裡面的萬紫千紅。步入其中，但見層層百花齊放，棵棵仙株奇芭，真是千姿百態，令人流連忘返。大樓正面上方赫然寫著「百花樓」幾個大字。
二、「落燕亭」坐落在清澈的水邊，傍有斜依清風的依依楊柳。垂到水面的柳條隨風蕩起輕波漣漪，弄皺了自身的倒影。夕陽餘暉裡，燕子繞梁低飛，啼鳴之聲悅耳動聽。
三、1975年春。夢中看到兩隻漂亮的鳥在空中翱翔，我伸手輕輕一撩，竟一把將牠們抓到了手裡，展開手心一看，飛鳥卻變成了兩顆包裝精美的糖果。剝開糖紙把糖送進嘴裡，雙眼微閉，雙唇一抿，正想去捕捉那份期待中的甜蜜。呃～呸！呸！我馬上又吐了出來。那糖是苦澀的，還在嘴裡碎成了沙子，吐也吐不幹淨。惊醒。
那年春天，聽說有上影廠的導演來農場招演員，去了好幾個連隊踅摸人，卻唯獨沒來我們這個地處偏遠、人煙稀少的漁業隊。我心有不甘，又帶著幾分初生牛犢的自不量力，便跟著另一個女生一起去了老場部，希望能製造一場與導演擦肩而過的機會。
果然，在擁擠喧鬧的小賣部裡，遠遠地看到了演員陳述等人的身影。稍後路過場部大禮堂，裡面正準備面試考生，我們在門口張望，沒想到他們看見了，也讓我進去參加了面試。那時大概有二十來個人接受考核。我緊張忐忑地朗誦了一首當時《小說月報》上刊登的詩，開頭是：「好高的樹啊好高的稍，白羊肚手巾紅袖標。」
落選是注定的，但關鍵是我去了，便無怨無悔。後來我報名參軍，卻因為母親歷史上曾被打成反革命的政治原因，政審最終沒能通過，連體檢都沒讓我參加。命運無常，其實這場人生突圍的最終結局，早在那場「兩隻漂亮飛鳥」的苦澀夢境裡，便已精準地向我的元神揭示了謎底。
連體檢也沒上網參加。其實結果在這「兩隻漂亮的鳥夢」裡早有揭示。
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1975: The Farm Years — Two Flying Birds and a Defiant Youtho
The very genesis of my dream journals dates back to around 1975, during my days stationed with the remote fishery team on the farm. Three distinct dreams from that year remain crystal-clear, etched indelibly into my mind:
I. In my sleep, I arrived before a grand, magnificent mansion constructed entirely of crystal glass. The architecture was minimalist and squared—seemingly completely seamless and without frames, yet rising multiple stories high. Through those immaculate, transparent glass walls, a spectacular sea of vibrant colors shimmered from within. Stepping inside, I was greeted by tier upon tier of blossoming flora and celestial, wondrous plants of countless forms, leaving me utterly spellbound and reluctant to depart. Atop the grand facade, several bold characters declared its name: The Pavilion of a Hundred Flowers.
II. A sanctuary named The Pavilion of the Fallen Swallow sat quietly by the water’s edge, flanked by weeping willows leaning gracefully into a gentle breeze. Their trailing branches grazed the surface, sending soft ripples dancing across the water and distorting their own reflections. In the fading amber glow of twilight, swallows wheeled around the rafters, their crystalline calls bringing pure music to the ears.
III. The spring of 1975. In my dream, I witnessed two exquisite birds soaring through the sky. With a casual sweep of my hand, I reached out and scooped them right out of the air. Opening my palm, the birds had transformed into two beautifully wrapped candies. I peeled away the tinsel and popped them into my mouth, closing my eyes slightly and pursing my lips, eager to savor the anticipated sweetness. Ugh—ptui! Ptui! I instantly spat them out in disgust. The sweets were intensely bitter, crumbling into dry sand inside my mouth that could never be completely rinsed away. Awakened.
That very spring, whispers rippled through the farm that directors from the Shanghai Film Studio had arrived to scout for actors. They combed through several companies looking for talent, but bypassed our small, remote fishery outpost entirely. Refusing to succumb to resignation, and fueled by a reckless youthful audacity, I paired up with another girl and trekked to the old farm headquarters, hoping to manufacture a chance encounter with the directors.
Sure enough, inside the swarming general store, I caught a distant glimpse of the famous actor Chen Shu and his entourage. Later, as we passed the main auditorium where auditions were actively being prepared, we peered eagerly through the doorway. To our shock, they spotted us and invited me inside to audition alongside roughly twenty other candidates. Stricken with trembling nerves, I recited a contemporary poem published in the Fiction Monthly journal. It opened with the lines: "How tall the trees grow, how high their crests rise; white sheep-skin headscarves and red armbands against the skies."
Failure was an absolute mathematical certainty, yet the triumph lay in the fact that I threw myself into the arena—leaving me with zero regrets. Later on, when I attempted to enlist in the military, I failed the political background check due to my mother’s historical status as a designated counter-revolutionary; I was barred from even participating in the physical examination. The cruelty of destiny had already unreeled its blueprint; the bitter outcome of this entire youthful gamble had been laid bare to my soul long before, precisely decoded within that fleeting illusion of the two beautiful birds.
Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.
第三百六十篇
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