[Introduction] Li Xuying was born in Guiyang in 1903 into a well-to-do family. In1946, reflecting on her childhood memories, she published an essay “A Piece of Nostalgia for Guiyang” in The Woman’s Voice Biweekly (vol. 1, no. 5th). Despite a life of displacement, Guiyang remains the only place she considers her true hometown. Through vivid descriptions of her home, relationships, and cultural traditions, Li explores themes of nostalgia, resilience, and the search for solace.
【简介】李旭英于1903年出生在贵阳一个富裕家庭。1946年，她发表了题为《一片乡心到贵阳》的散文，刊登在《妇声半月刊》（第一卷，第五期）上。尽管一生颠沛流离，贵阳仍然是她唯一认定的故乡。通过对家园、人际关系和文化传统的生动描述，李旭英写出了她在困境中的坚韧挣扎和在乡心中渴求慰藉。
《一片乡心到贵阳》
故乡，那儿是我的故乡？我的祖先出生地江西，没有一丝经历。。父亲的寄籍北平，在国乱家变的生活鞭策下流浪着我早已失去了家，怎样能蕴积出乡心来？
只有贵阳，我的出生地，还能给我几年美满生活的回忆，我承认是唯一可爱的故乡。人当喜怒哀乐达于极点，其印象也深入脑海而不可灭。四五岁时的生活，仿佛如在昨日，那时期我有个健全的家，在贵阳城里一条名唤蔡家坊的所在，高高堆切十几层石台阶的门道，每当梦境，辄吸收我重复进入黄金时代的天堂里。
这所房屋沿街有几间，是不用品储藏室。我每回忆到这屋里的天花板上，便联想有个可怜的小孩，她比我还不幸运，只有六七岁即拐到贩卖人口者手里。那时贵阳还流行蓄婢。家人买了她来陪伴我，幼儿不免顽皮，因此她常要受大众鞭笞，这天花板上，就是她逃避刑罚的世外桃源。她感觉犯了过错，就求我守着这屋门，由重叠堆积的废物间，一层一层的向上爬，爬到天花板能隐藏她的身型。一次，两次爬的，无穷回次，我同情她的弱小，每次都助她成功。不料我今日长处异乡间，忍受着生活鞭痕，那能寻一块天花板式的世外桃源退隐，谁助我稍得宁息。
中院是一排南北玻璃门窗的客厅，里面陈设着光怪陆离的器物。没有客人，总是关着。清晨女仆们进去打扫，我方能混入。鉴赏挂在墙上的字画。每当留恋不出，女仆便骗道：猫头鹰来了。呀！这猫头鹰便是恫吓我的工具。因为全家的娇惯，我是受不到责罚，对我只产生了这猫头鹰的故事，我虽然养成了不服从的自尊心，听到黑暗可怕处，也要恐惧央告着听命了。有时也感到客厅的清朗，不适宜它居留，想生出疑问来，久经忧患，不觉悟解，人间那有光明，捉不到光明，当然各处可能成为猫头鹰居留所，又何怪乎儿时故乡客厅之一隅呢！
在客厅右侧有两间通行内院的轿厅，在放置轿子的空处，便是家人日常穿行内外的过道。彼时贵阳行的风俗，中产者都准备轿子家里放着。年节里，她们抱着我坐到这间小的轿子里，去走人家，幽闷得我想跳出来。而今终日奔波，疲乏的腿儿，到不听命移动，想重温儿时的轿风味，人间天上，今昔之感，不可复得了。
由轿厅进到内院，游廊环绕的四合房，颇是故乡样式。到了岁末春和，内堂门开通到大门口，张灯结彩，别有一番天地。而是时是慰的一种媚神运动游行剧，名唤“行夜香”的，从灯节演到仲春方能尽兴。就是地方上好事的子弟们邀了名伶，扮演各种剧情在每个小型木台上，用人抬着这木台在子夜穿行街市，前行群众举着香烛龙灯火把等，后继是笙笛乐队。平日我家妇女不到门立，“行夜香”来了，便失去常态。我的降生，便是正当家人们看是剧归来，我不幸就随着是剧而降生，更不幸到人生剧场里，冒充了一名悲剧角色。
流光年年游去，生活记载页页加厚，但是谁也不愿意打开自己的伤痕而抄录。现实的收获，时而旧妇女，时而新人物，不伦不类，也不知将从何说起。米珠薪桂的岁月，每天只要看到天边抹上鱼肚白色的调子，我一样是个乡村妇女，很早就起来烧火煮饭，朝阳出来，我又提着书包走进教室。业余我也许在洗衣盆上读小说，缝着鞋子吟诗句。佳日良辰，落花满院，垂柳隔墙，又感动我夜半起来打图样。孩子们病了，经济充足时，我非但要请个好医生，自己也拿着温度表当名看护妇。缺乏了医药费，我又走到书架前乱翻本草药目，打算发现些三家店的偏方应急。自己也感觉出生活不入正轨，这已庆幸是我的坦途了。假若时代的巨浪打来，随波浮沉，个人死生，早置度外。而有两个小小无辜的孩子，我又将怎样尽着这为母代父的责任呢？我只有一些童年的快感，我也希望我的孩子有些黄金时代。所以每次当消极到想毁灭我的灵魂和肉躯时，又感到我因失去母亲而烦恼，还怎能再使孩子们失却她们的母亲而无援助呢？我好好生活，生活得又这样的辛劳，彷徨，悲哀。侥幸朝花夕拾，还有些许儿时滋味，一片乡心到贵阳的回忆着，差堪自处仍渡着劫下余生。
A Piece of Nostalgia for Guiyang
Where is my hometown? Jiangxi, the birthplace of my ancestors, where I have no personal experience whatsoever. My father’s registered residence is Beiping, but driven by the national turmoil and family crises, I’ve wandered and have lost my sense of home. How can one cultivate a sense of belonging under such circumstances?
Guiyang, my birthplace, is the only place that holds a few years of happy memories for me, and I admit it is the only beloved hometown I have. When a person reaches the peak of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, these impressions become deeply ingrained in the mind, indelible. Life at the age of four or five feels like yesterday. At that time, I had a complete family in Guiyang, in a place called Caijiafang. The entrance to our home featured a series of stone steps, at least a dozen high. Often in my dreams, I am drawn back into the paradise of this golden era.
This house had several rooms along the street, used as storage for unused items. Whenever I recall the ceiling of these rooms, I think of a pitiful child, more unfortunate than myself, who was only six or seven when she was trafficked. At that time, the custom of keeping maids was still prevalent in Guiyang. My family bought her to keep me company. Being mischievous as a child, she was often punished, and the ceiling became her sanctuary from punishment. When she felt she had done something wrong, she would ask me to guard the door while she climbed through the accumulated junk, layer by layer, to hide on the ceiling. Once, twice, countless times, I sympathized with her vulnerability, aiding her escape every time. Now, living in a foreign land, enduring life’s lashes, where can I find a piece of paradise like that ceiling to retreat to? Who will help me find a moment’s peace?
The central courtyard had a a living room with north-south facing glass doors and windows. It filled with bizarre and exotic things. When there were no guests, it was always closed off. In the morning, when the maids went in to clean, I would sneak in to admire the paintings and calligraphy on the walls. When I lingered too long, the maids would tease that an owl was coming. Oh! The owl was my deterrent. Spoiled by my family, I was rarely punished; instead, they used the owl story to control me. Although I developed a rebellious self-esteem, the thought of darkness and fear still made me obey. Sometimes, I felt the bright living room was not a suitable place for an owl, but after much hardship, I realized that in this world, where light can’t be found, anywhere could become a dwelling for owls, including a corner of my childhood home.
To the right of the living room, there were two rooms that connected to the inner courtyard, which also served as a place for sedans. At that time, it was customary in Guiyang for middle-class families to have sedans at home. During festivals, they would take me in these small sedans to visit others’ homes, where I felt confined to the point of wanting to jump out. Now, my legs, tired from daily hustling, no longer heed my command to move. I yearn for the luxury of that sedan from my childhood, but time and place have changed, making it an unattainable nostalgia.
Entering from the sedan room into the inner courtyard, surrounded by a covered walkway, the courtyard house was truly in the style of my hometown. During the Spring Festivals, when the doors from the inner hall to the main gate would be opened, and the courtyard decorated with lanterns, it felt like stepping into another world. During this time, there was a folk theatrical procession called “Night Fragrance,” that ran from the Lantern Festival until mid-spring. Local youths invited famous actors to perform on small wooden stages, carried through the streets at midnight, with people in front holding candles, dragon lanterns and torches, followed by a woodwind band. Normally, the women of my family didn’t stand by the door, but for “Night Fragrance,” they lost their usual composure. My birth coincided with the family’s return from watching this event; unfortunately, I entered the world during this drama, only to later play the role of a tragic character in life’s theater.
Years pass, and life’s records thicken page by page, but who wants to open up their wounds to transcribe them? In reality, I am sometimes a traditional woman, sometimes a member of the new era, a mix that’s hard to describe. In times of scarcity, every morning as the sky turned a fish-belly white, I, like a rural woman, would rise early to cook. With the sunrise, I would carry my schoolbag into the classroom. In my spare time, I might read novels while washing clothes, or reciting poems while sewing shoes. On beautiful days, with falling flowers covering the yard and willows beyond the wall, I’d be moved to design patterns into the night. When the children fell ill, if money was sufficient, I would not only hire a good doctor but also act as a nurse with a thermometer in hand. When medical fees were lacking, I’d rummage through herbal medicine books on the shelf, hoping to find some old remedies. I’ve come to feel that my life is off the beaten path, yet I consider myself fortune to be this way. If the waves of the time crash upon me, I’d float with them, having long disregarded personal life and death. But with two innocent children, how can I fulfill my responsibilities as both mother and father? My only joys are from my childhood, and I wish for my children to have their golden times too. Whenever I’m so discouraged that I contemplate ending my life, I remember the pain of losing my mother and think, how could I leave my children without theirs? So, I live on, living laboriously, wandering, in sorrow. Thankfully, I can still pick up some remnants of childhood flavors, holding on to memories of Guiyang in my heart, barely managing to navigate through the remaining years of my life.