Chapter 851 "Chinese Workers Trilogy"

"Yes, I received a call from Professor Yu's relatives. Professor Yu Rong's funeral will be held at Colma Cemetery No. 5 at 2 pm the day after tomorrow. Can you attend?"

The day after tomorrow.

I have already returned to China.

"Okay, I will attend." Fang Minghua agreed.

I refunded the plane ticket and returned to China two days later to pay tribute to this brave woman.

Two days later, Fang Minghua changed into a black suit, and Li Li also took a leave and drove to Colma.

Colma Colma is a small town in San Mateo County, California, located on the San Francisco Peninsula in the San Francisco Bay Area. Since San Francisco banned burials 100 years ago, the purpose is to save land. So all the deceased are buried here, which is called "Silent Hill".

It rained again that day.

Fang Minghua drove to Colma Cemetery No. 5 and found Professor Yu's grave. Many people had already come, mostly Chinese and white people.

Fang Minghua met the Redaven couple.

A pastor began to read the eulogy, and everyone held umbrellas and bowed their heads slightly to mourn the tombstone.

The ceremony was solemn and simple. After the pastor finished reading the eulogy, everyone laid white flowers in front of the tombstone and left one after another.

Fang Minghua walked with Lei Dawen and his wife.

Lei Dawen whispered to him that the murderer of the New York shooting had been arrested. He was a white youth in his twenties from Texas.

This person was a fanatical white supremacist who hated Asian minorities, especially Chinese people, and was very dissatisfied with the movement initiated by Yu Rong Yifang to affirm the contributions of Chinese workers in American history, so he created this shooting.

"In fact, the California local council has voted to pass a bill to recognize the historical contributions of Chinese workers, and plans to revise the content of the state's middle school history textbooks next year. The movement has achieved initial victory, but it's a pity that Yu Rong didn't see this day."

Lei Dawen finally sighed.

Fang Minghua felt very sorry for hearing this.

On the way back to San Francisco, Fang Minghua thought about these things while driving.

In a sense, Yu Yifang died to justify the contributions of Chinese workers in American history.

The descendant of this Chinese worker, whose ancestors contributed their lives to the prosperity of the United States but were not recognized by the authorities, ran around and called for the glory of her ancestors, but died in the hands of those prejudiced people.

Fang Minghua felt that he needed to write something more to commemorate this great woman and present this history again.

When he told Li Li about this idea, Li Li immediately agreed: "Okay, if you write another novel, together with the previous one, it can be called "The Chinese Workers Trilogy". How do you plan to write it?"

"I haven't thought about it yet."

"I think you can use Yu Rongyifang's vision and write in the first person."

"Use the first person?"

"Yes, the "Railway Spikes" and "Angels and Demons" you wrote actually write about the difficulties and unfair treatment suffered by the first generation of Chinese immigrant workers in the United States." Li Li talked freely.

"Yu Yifang is a descendant of Chinese workers in the United States. She has good knowledge and a certain social status, which are obtained on the basis of the hard work of her ancestors. She experienced the implementation and abolition of the Chinese Exclusion Act in the United States at her age, and experienced the joint fight between China and the United States against Japanese militarism during World War II, as well as the anti-China movement in the United States after World War II. In the 1980s, she advocated for the historical contributions of Chinese workers to redress their names. These are all good materials."

"If you want, you can extend the timeline a little bit, extending it to the late 19th century and early 20th century, when the Chinese Exclusion Act was most severely implemented. I think it is very interesting to write through the first-person perspective of a woman's growth."

Isn't this a bit like the narrative style of "Old Things in the South of the City" and Yu Hua's "To Live"?

Fang Minghua thinks this idea is pretty good.

"Okay, I'll think about it according to your idea." Fang Minghua said.

"Then if you want to write this new novel, will you not return to China?" Li Li suddenly asked.

Ah? This?

Is it to keep me by giving me these suggestions?

Fang Minghua didn't know what to say for a moment.

"I'm just kidding you. My cousin doesn't say it, but she's definitely hoping you'll go back soon. How can I always occupy you?" Li Li chuckled: "Go back. If you need information in this area, send me an email and I'll help you find it."

"Okay, thank you."

"Why are you being polite to me? You make a lot of money, and many people envy you, but I hope you can write more works!"

On August 20, Fang Minghua finally returned to Xijing with his son Fang Le.

Sitting in the airport bus into the city, Fang Minghua looked at the scenery outside.

After more than a year, this ancient city has not changed much. The mutton soup and spicy soup restaurants on the street are eye-catching.

When they got home, Song Tangtang hadn't gotten off work yet. They were greeted by the little nanny and an old German Shepherd Doumiao.

Doumiao is already very old. Song Tangtang said that he just lay in the doghouse to bask in the sun every day. Today, when he saw his owner coming back, he stood up with difficulty and shook his tail.

Fang Minghua touched Doumiao's head and suddenly felt a little sad.

We are all old.

Fortunately, there was a sudden meow. Douya, a tabby cat that rarely came home in the past, suddenly appeared in the yard and called out to Fang Minghua.

Douya and Doumiao were brought in after Fang Minghua's family moved into this small courtyard. Doumiao was already old, but Douya still looked lively.

As if welcoming its owner home, Douya called out twice and disappeared into the flowers again.

The little nanny took the suitcase from Fang Minghua very attentively. Her son could not wait to go back to his room and take out the newly bought Sony PlayStation 2 in the United States to play "Final Fantasy 10". Fang Minghua stood in the small courtyard and looked around.

There was almost no change from before she left. There were a lot of flowers and plants, and there were a few sunflowers planted in the corner, which were in full bloom.

Compared with several manors in the United States, the environment and conditions here are obviously not as good as the former, but Fang Minghua felt inexplicably happy.

This is her real home.

At this time, the sound of a car came from outside, and a few minutes later, Song Tangtang came out from the back of the garage.

She was wearing a gray OL tube skirt, capable and charming.

Fang Minghua smiled and opened her arms.

"Oh. After staying in the United States for more than a year, you also learn to be so passionate and unrestrained like foreigners?" Song Tangtang said with a smile.

But she still hugged Fang Minghua tightly.

"Okay, okay, don't let my son see it." Song Tangtang said angrily.

Fang Minghua let go, and the two returned to the living room together.

In the evening, there was oil-splashed noodles, specially prepared for Fang Minghua. He ate it so deliciously, and of course he told Song Tangtang what happened in San Francisco while eating.

"Are you going to write a novel at home?" Song Tangtang asked.

"Yes, according to Lili's suggestion, think about it carefully." Fang Minghua said.

"Don't worry, help me read a script."

After dinner, the two went upstairs to the study. Song Tangtang took out a thick stack from his briefcase, and Fang Minghua took it and looked at the title.

It was Chen Kaige's "The Promise"!