1990年秋，我請J幫我五哥辦了擔保來日本看看。五哥到日本的那天，我去成田機場接他，到家後他居然變戲法兒一樣，從背包裡取出一串鮮活生猛的大閘蟹來。當時的海關出入境管得也夠鬆的，居然大活螃蟹會從上海帶到日本上了我們的餐桌。那頓清蒸大閘蟹味道好極了。
在家時我和我五哥關係比較近，有點同命相連的感覺。他是因為性格內向不聲不響我母親不太待見。而我是個女的，母親管得太嚴還有那麼一點重男輕女。所以一機會我就想到讓五哥出來走走。
我五哥從一落地就蔫聲不響，用他自己的話說：「我是在五四二廠出生的，當時一出生就沒有聲音，護士說我是死嬰，就給我扔在一邊。是咱媽不相信，一定要看，才發現我是活的，這才撿回了一條命。」
說來神奇，就在我動筆寫下這段文字的前一天晚上（2026年10月31日），我竟然做了一個奇特的預知夢。
我夢見母親開車，我坐在副駕駛座上。母親開得極快，窗外的風景像拉道道的狂風一樣飛速倒退。我時時緊張地提醒她注意危險，但每次她都能在毫不減速的情況下，精準地繞過路上的所有障礙——有拋錨的小車，還有從大車上掉落的、像水泥攪拌機大小的沉重金屬圓桶。後來我們在一家旅店住了一晚，發現五哥居然也住在這家旅店。隔天起來準備出發，母親悉心整理著行裝，帶上了滿滿一臉盆新鮮的青菜和大白菜。我打算去上廁所，邊上小店的人卻說「裡面有人，暫時不能用」，我便醒了。
現實生活中，我母親生前根本不會開車，連自行車都沒騎過。但這個夢的心理學隱喻卻極深：那飛馳的快車與驚險的重重障礙，不正是我們家幾十年來在動盪時代裡「命運沉浮」的真實寫照嗎？抄家、反革命、下鄉、飢餓，時代的巨輪接連砸下，而母親就是那個頂著風暴、開著快車，帶著全家化險為夷的人。她「不相信、一定要看」的執著，把五哥從死神手裡搶了回來；她夢裡帶上的那一盆大白菜，則是那個匱乏年代裡最讓人心安的母愛保護色。我的大腦，竟然在我的手敲下文字之前，就已經在後台悄悄開工，為這段歷史做了一次充滿靈氣的「神祕排練」。
說起來也怪，我的哥哥們除了五哥，從未在我的夢裡出現過，唯獨五哥，這幾十年來曾四次入夢。1998年，我夢見和父親、五哥一同待在一座華麗的城堡裡；2011年，夢見宇宙飛船墜落涼台，我驚慌地拉著五哥用皮質手機摸索著撥打911求救；2017年，又夢見五哥推門回來，急切地對我說：「媽病了住醫院裡」，我說：「你要帶我去探望她」。再到如今2026年出發前的旅店相遇。或許，正因為當年在老家，他因性格內向不被待見，我因重男輕女被嚴格管束，這種「同命相連」的靈魂磁場，讓我們成了幾十年時空也隔不斷的、潛意識裡最深的牽掛。
他還回憶說：「58年是大建設的年份，家庭婦女都出去工作了，家裡的小孩子沒人管了，就把我們這些年紀差不多的小孩，弄去讀書了。所以我是67屆的比同屆的同學小一二歲。」
四哥說：「他太幸運了，早一年畢業，就進了上海工廠工作。68年分配是上山下鄉一片紅，全要到外地插隊落戶的，這就是命運！」我六哥也早一年畢業，他是讀了當時人人羨慕的五年制小學，但他卻一頭撞上了69屆上山下鄉一片紅，去了西雙版納深山老林裡割膠。當時就68和69兩屆畢業生是一片紅的。五哥躲掉了，六哥踩進去了。點這裡閱讀：《一家七兄妹的命運沉浮》
1973年9月五哥又被廠裡保送進了上海交大電機系讀書。那時候高考制度還沒恢復，想讀大學是難上加難。看來好事兒都讓他給碰上了。
1990年11月29日我和五哥去了崎玉縣探望我華師大的兩位老朋友，是1985年夏華師大工會組織的黃山旅遊時認識的。
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| 在黃山 In Huangshan 1985 |
1990年12月23日我和五哥一起去了箱根。在路上五哥說多年前看日本電影《人證》時，那首如泣如訴的影片主題曲「草帽歌」，以及那片草長鶯飛的山谷中奔跑的孩子與飄飛的草帽，給他留下了深刻的印象。成了他心中朦朧的、遙不可及的向往、心中的夢。現在可是真的踏上了箱根的小路，心中有無限感慨。
那天的能見度還可以，我們看到了富士山。位於箱根山脈火山口的大涌谷的空氣中彌漫著硫磺的氣味。大湧谷是三千年前箱根火山最後一次爆發造成的。
既然來了，出一次國不容易，我的同學就幫我五哥介紹了打零工的機會。先是在一個用注塑機做玩具的老闆家裡打工，又在洗衣廠打過工。最後是在一家汽車製造廠（好像是豐田車）的油漆車間打工十個月。
這是1991年1月5日，我在家請客，來了四位東海大學的同學，有兩位我還不認識。人來的多，我去跟二樓第一家鄰居借了餐桌，也請他來一起熱鬧熱鬧。他們中的一位幫五哥介紹到一家汽車製造廠工作的。
記得他第一次領到工資時，就馬上去店裡給老婆買了一隻戒指，是歐泊的。
其實這背後還有一段故事。2024年我想寫這段往事時，因為許多細節記不清了，便發郵件向姪女（五哥的女兒）打聽，當時五哥又出去旅遊了，我說：「哈哈，五哥現在好逍遙！我記得他在日本時第一次拿了工資就馬上去給你媽買了一個戒指。我那時還挺羨慕的，真是個好丈夫啊。讓我看看照片吧，好像是藍寶石的？如果五哥能回憶起當年打工的細節和日期就太好了。」姪女便把戒指的照片拍了發給我。
結果，這張照片和我的讚美，反而引出了姪女對她老爸的「吐槽」。她回信說：「我記得我爸去日本是90年代初……他買的戒指是歐泊的，如果當時買的藍寶石的話，現在應該升值很多了。這好像是他買給我媽的第一個也是唯一一個戒指。今年流行復古，所以這個戒指我平時戴戴😃。我也覺得我爸是好福氣的人，找到我媽這樣賢惠又任勞任怨的老婆。」
看到這兒，我便回她說：「哈哈，我懂得『任勞任怨』這四個字的分量，感同身受。一般女人任勞任怨，基本上丈夫是不太體貼型的。」
有一次我去看五哥，他在宿舍裡，說肝區有點疼，我馬上出去找了一家日本小藥店，買了一瓶藥，據說能緩和肝臟的不舒服。結果拿回來一看，藥已經過期了，又去退了。
五哥在日本大約掙了一百萬日元。1991年時，一百萬日元大約折合近四萬元人民幣。在那個年代的上海，這無疑是一筆名副其實的天文數字和大錢，相當於國內普通職工不吃不喝攢上十幾年的工資總和。所以說，時代所有罕見的好事，全都讓五哥一個人給碰上了。
記得我那時還曾問過六哥，想不想也來日本看看？當時六哥已經回到上海了，在電視台開車。結果，六哥說：「去美國還可以，日本就算了。」
其實回頭想想，我那時候最應該幫助的是四哥。他的經濟條件在我們兄妹中是最差的，但他偏偏又是人最老實、幹家務是母親最得力的助手。因為當年母親被打成反革命，四哥受的打擊最大，從此一蹶不振。我心裡一直有些後悔，總想著等到自己以後有錢了，一定要好好接濟接濟四哥。可生活總有那麼多陰差陽錯，直到目前，這在我的心裡還依然只是一個未能實現的願望。
回國時，五哥說要到日本出入境管理局去投案自首，寫個簡單的經歷，就可以了。因為他滯留時間超過了。
其實，回國那天在機場還發生了一場驚心動魄的意外。2025年4月14日，姪女在郵件裡幫五哥補充了這段驚險的記憶：「那時候以為沒事了，結果因為他們發的臨時身份證沒有上交，在飛機場被扣押到飛機起飛前才讓登機。當時那張卡已經放在行李中託運了，無法拿出來了。」
原來，五哥自首後拿到了日本政府發的臨時身份證，本該在出海關時上交銷案，他卻稀裡糊塗地把卡放進大行李箱直接託運了。到了成田機場出境口，他拿不出證件，驚動了日本海關，被當場扣留盤問。眼看著飛機就要起飛，貨艙裡的行李也根本不可能翻出來。好在最後關頭，日本海關終於網開一面，在飛機起飛前的最後一剎那，才放行讓他登機。這才算有驚無險地回到了上海。
【後記：2025年的跨時空連線】
一晃三十多年過去了。2025年，我因為寫這些回憶錄再次與姪女聯繫，也得知了家裡的近況。姪女在信裡對我說：「孃孃、很不好意思，是我疏於回覆。這兩年我的工作內容有點變化，著實比之前更忙了。加上這兩年國內經濟不好，原本還要為我招人的也被擱淺了。國內又延長了退休延齡，還要再幹十幾年才能退休。我爸昨天又出去旅遊了，這次好像要半個月才回，真的很羨慕他，退休工資又高，又有時間。我們退休了還不知道能拿多少。」
我便回信感嘆道：「哈哈，你老爸是我們兄妹中活得最自在逍遙的。在外面多跑跑對身心健康都有益。」
姪女回信說：「哈哈，他真的是瀟灑。我也時常跟他講，因為有我媽這樣任勞任怨的老婆和我這樣不需要啃老的女兒，才能造就了他現在瀟灑的狀態。」
其實，我們姑姪倆在夢境裡也早有感應。就在2025年6月25日，姪女在給我的郵件裡寫道：
「孃孃，昨晚我夢見你了。夢裡我還是孩童的樣子，你還是年輕時候的樣子。夢到你回國了，現在具體有點忘記說了什麼，但是依稀記得由於長久的分別，我們喜極而泣，抱頭痛哭。」
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| 1991年12月我回上海探親，倆可愛的小姪女 Me with my two nieces, Shanghai, December 1991 |
看到這兒，我的眼眶也泛潮了，隨即給她回信道：「太好了，雖然咱們好久沒見了，但夢裡能相見！而且是還原到我們當年的樣子。想起你在武寧路住的時候，一天我去玩兒，一進屋就看見你坐在窗前桌子的左側，立馬跑過來喊我孃孃，很可愛的一個乖乖女。你叫孃孃時聲音很脆亮好聽，你母親做了一桌美食，難忘的記憶還有好多呢。你的夢讓我眼眶泛潮了，謝謝！美好的記憶，美好的親情。」
看著她字裡行間的依戀，心裡暖洋洋的。當年那個在箱根小路上回味著《草帽歌》感慨萬千、在日本車廠油漆車間辛苦幹活到肝痛的五哥，如今終於熬成了最瀟灑、活得最自在逍遙的人。而當年的小女孩也長大了，卻依然在夢裡抱著年輕時的姑姑痛哭。這或許就是命運給予一個善良、內向、曾歷經時代坎坷的家族，最溫柔的補償吧。
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The Road to Hakone and the Straw Hat Song: My Fifth Brother’s Journey to Japan in 1990
In the autumn of 1990, I asked J to help sponsor a visa for my fifth brother so he could come and see Japan. On the day he arrived, I went to Narita Airport to pick him up. Once we got home, as if performing a magic trick, he pulled a string of live, feisty hairy crabs out of his backpack. Customs and border control back then must have been quite lax for live crabs to travel all the way from Shanghai to Japan and end up on our dinner table. That meal of steamed hairy crabs tasted absolutely divine.
At home, my fifth brother and I had always been quite close, sharing a sense of kindred vulnerability. Because he was introverted and quiet, our mother didn't care for him much. As for me, being a girl, our mother controlled me very strictly and held a slight preference for sons over daughters. So, the moment an opportunity arose, I wanted to help my brother get out and see the world.
From the moment he landed, my fifth brother was quiet and subdued. In his own words: "I was born in Factory 542. When I came out, I didn't make a sound. The nurse thought I was a stillborn and tossed me aside. It was our mother who refused to believe it; she insisted on looking, only to discover I was alive, which snatched my life back from the brink."
Strangely enough, out of all my brothers, none have ever appeared in my dreams except for my fifth brother, who has entered my sleep four times over the decades. In 1998, I dreamed of staying with my father and him inside a magnificent castle. In 2011, I dreamed of a spaceship crashing onto our balcony, and me frantically grabbing a leather-cased phone, fumbling to find the keys as I yelled at him to dial 911. In 2017, I dreamed of him opening the door and telling me urgently, "Mother is sick in the hospital," to which I replied, "You need to take me to visit her." And now, in 2026, we meet again at an inn before setting out. Perhaps back in our hometown days, because he was introverted and overlooked while I was strictly controlled as a daughter, this kindred vulnerability forged a soul connection that decades of time and space could never sever—making him the deepest, subconscious longing of my heart.
He also recalled, "The year 1958 was a time of massive construction. Homemakers all went out to work, leaving no one to look after the young children at home. So, they put all of us kids around the same age into school early. That's why I belonged to the Class of '67, making me one or two years younger than my classmates." Click here to read：The Upbringing of Our Seven Siblings: The Deep Imprints of an Era
My fourth brother once remarked, "He was so lucky. Graduating just a year earlier meant he could enter a Shanghai factory to work. By 1968, job assignments meant the 'Up to the Mountains and Down to the Villages' movement was in full swing—everyone was forced to settle down in rural areas. That was destiny!" My sixth brother also graduated a year earlier after attending the five-year primary school that everyone envied back then. Yet, he crashed headfirst into the Class of '69's mandatory rural relocation, ending up in the forests of Xishuangbanna to tap rubber. At that time, only the graduating classes of '68 and '69 faced that absolute sweep. Our fifth brother evaded it, while our sixth brother stepped right into it.
In September 1973, my fifth brother was recommended by his factory to study in the Electrical Engineering Department at Shanghai Jiao Tong University. Back then, the college entrance examination system had not yet been reinstated, making entering a university incredibly difficult. It seemed every stroke of good fortune had come his way.
On November 29, 1990, my fifth brother and I traveled to Saitama Prefecture to visit two of my old friends from East China Normal University. We had originally met during a trip to the Yellow Mountains organized by the university's labor union in the summer of 1985.
On December 23, 1990, my fifth brother and I went to Hakone together. Along the way, he mentioned that many years ago, when he watched the Japanese movie Proof of the Man, the hauntingly sorrowful theme song, "Straw Hat Song," as well as the scene of a child running through a lush, wild valley with a straw hat drifting in the wind, had left a profound impression on him. It became a hazy, unreachable yearning—a dream in his heart. Now that his feet were truly stepping onto the small paths of Hakone, his heart was filled with boundless emotion.
The visibility that day was decent, and we caught a view of Mount Fuji. At Owakudani, located in the volcanic crater of the Hakone Mountains, the air was thick with the scent of sulfur. Owakudani was formed by the final eruption of the Hakone volcano three thousand years ago.
Since he had made the rare journey abroad, my classmate helped introduce my fifth brother to some odd job opportunities. First, he worked at the home of a boss who manufactured toys using injection molding machines, and later he worked at a laundry plant. Finally, he spent ten months working in the paint workshop of an automobile manufacturing plant (I believe it was Toyota). On January 5, 1991, I hosted a gathering at my house, which was attended by four classmates from Tokai University, two of whom I hadn't met before. Since so many people came over, I went to borrow a dining table from my neighbor living in the first apartment on the second floor, and invited him to join the lively gathering as well. It was one of those classmates who helped introduce my brother to the job at the auto plant. I remember that the first time he received his wages, he went straight to a shop to buy his wife an opal ring.
There is actually a backstory to this. In 2024, when I wanted to write down these memories, many details had become hazy, so I emailed my niece to ask for clarification. Since my brother was away traveling again, I wrote to her: "Haha, your dad is living such a carefree life now! I remember back in Japan, the very first time he got paid, he rushed straight to a shop to buy a ring for your mom. I quite envied her at the time—what a great husband! Let me have a look at it; I recall it being a sapphire? It would be wonderful if your dad could recall some of those specific dates and details from his part-time working days." My niece snapped a photo of the ring and emailed it to me first.
As it turned out, this photograph and my praise inadvertently triggered some playful "complaints" from my niece about her father. She replied: "I remember my dad went to Japan in the early '90s... The ring he bought was actually an opal; if he had bought a sapphire back then, it probably would have appreciated a lot in value by now. This seems to be the very first and only ring he ever bought for my mom. Vintage styles are trendy this year, so I wear this ring casually nowadays 😃. I also think my dad is a very blessed man to have found a wife like my mom, who is so virtuous, bearing all the burdens and hard work without a single complaint."
Seeing her words, I wrote back to her: "Haha, I know exactly the weight behind that phrase 'bearing all burdens without complaint'—I feel it deeply myself. Generally speaking, when a woman is described that way, it usually means her husband isn't the most considerate type."
Another time when I went to visit my fifth brother at his dormitory, he mentioned feeling some pain in his liver area. I immediately went out to find a small pharmacy and bought a bottle of medicine that was supposed to soothe liver discomfort. However, when I brought it back, I realized the medicine had already expired, so I went back to return it.
My fifth brother earned about one million yen during his time in Japan. In 1991, one million yen was equivalent to nearly 40,000 RMB. In Shanghai at that time, this was undoubtedly a literal astronomical sum of big money, equal to the total combined wages of an ordinary domestic worker saving for over a decade without eating or drinking. It really seemed that every rare stroke of good fortune belonging to that era had been captured by my fifth brother alone.
I remember asking my sixth brother if he wanted to come to Japan as well. By then, my sixth brother had already returned to Shanghai and was working as a driver for the television station. In the end, he refused, saying, "Going to the United States would be alright, but forget about Japan."
In hindsight, however, the one I truly should have helped was my fourth brother. His financial situation was the absolute worst among all my siblings, yet he happened to be the most honest and kind-hearted soul, and our mother’s most reliable helper around the house. Because of our mother being branded a counter-revolutionary back then, my fourth brother took the heaviest blow and lost his drive entirely from then on. I have always felt a lingering regret in my heart, always thinking that once I made enough money in the future, I would definitely support my fourth brother. Yet, life is full of so many unpredictable turns; up until this very moment, this remains nothing more than an unfulfilled wish in my heart.
When it was time to return to China, my fifth brother said he had to turn himself in to the Japanese Immigration Bureau and write a brief summary of his experience, which would suffice, since he had overstayed his visa.
As it turned out, a heart-stopping incident occurred at the airport on the day of his departure. On April 14, 2025, my niece helped supplement this thrilling memory in her email: "Back then, he thought everything was sorted out. However, because he forgot to hand back the temporary ID card they had issued him, he was detained at the airport and was only allowed to board right before the plane took off. By then, that card had already been packed into his checked luggage and could not be retrieved."
Apparently, after turning himself in, my brother had been issued a temporary identification card by the Japanese authorities, which was supposed to be surrendered at customs upon departure. In a muddle, however, he had packed it away in his large suitcase and checked it in. When he reached the airport exit gates without the document, it alarmed the Japanese customs officials, and he was detained for interrogation on the spot. With the plane about to leave and his luggage buried deep in the cargo hold, it was impossible to fish it out. Fortunately, at the absolute final hurdle, the Japanese customs officials finally decided to cut him some slack, permitting him to board at the very split second before takeoff. Only then did he make it back to Shanghai safe and sound.
[Epilogue: A Connection Across Time in 2025]
More than thirty years flew by in a flash. In 2025, while compiling these memoirs, I connected with my niece (my fifth brother's daughter) again and caught up on the family's recent updates. In her email, she wrote: "Auntie, I am so sorry for the delayed response. My job responsibilities changed a bit over the past two years, making me significantly busier than before. On top of that, the domestic economy hasn't been great lately; they were originally going to hire someone to assist me, but that plan got shelved. The retirement age here was also extended, so I still have to grind for over a decade before I can retire. My dad went out traveling again yesterday—this time he'll be gone for about half a month. I truly envy him; his pension is high, and he has so much free time. We don't even know how much pension we'll get when we eventually retire."
I replied with a sigh of admiration: "Haha, your dad is living the most carefree and comfortable life among all of us siblings. Traveling around a lot is wonderful for both physical and mental health."
My niece laughed and wrote back: "Haha, he truly is living a carefree life. I often tell him that it's precisely because he has a wife like my mom who bears all the burdens without complaint, and a daughter like me who doesn't depend on his money, that he is able to enjoy his current state of absolute freedom."
In fact, the two of us have long shared a deep, mysterious connection in our dreams. Back in an email sent on June 25, 2025, my niece wrote to me with such tenderness:
"Auntie, I dreamed of you last night. In the dream, I was still a child, and you were still as young as you used to be. I dreamed that you came back to China. I’ve forgotten the exact words we said, but I vaguely remember that because of our long separation, we wept with joy and held each other, crying our eyes out."
Reading her words, my own eyes welled up with tears, and I immediately replied to her: "This is beautiful. Even though we haven't seen each other in so long, we can still meet in our dreams! And we even reverted to how we looked back then. It reminds me of when you were living on Wuning Road. One day I went over to visit, and the moment I stepped inside, I saw you sitting on the left side of the table by the window. You immediately ran over and called out 'Auntie!' to me—such a cute, sweet little girl. Your voice was so crisp, bright, and lovely when you called me Auntie. Your mother prepared a whole table of delicious food. There are still so many unforgettable memories. Your dream brought tears to my eyes, thank you! Such beautiful memories, such precious family bonds."
Looking at the affection flowing between our words, my heart felt incredibly warm. Back then, my fifth brother had stood on the small paths of Hakone, deeply reflecting on the "Straw Hat Song" with boundless emotion, and had labored in the paint shop of a Japanese auto plant until his liver ached. Today, he has finally become the most carefree and beautifully content person, while the little girl has grown up, yet still runs toward her young aunt in her dreams. Perhaps this is destiny's gentlest compensation for a kind, introverted family that once weathered the heavy storms of its era.
特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。
Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.
第四百四十一篇
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