Lao She (February 3, 1899-August 24, 1966), whose original name was Shu Qingchun, was a famous modern writer and an outstanding language master, and was praised as "people's artist". Manchu is a native of Hongqi, a Beijinger. His father was a Manchu guard. When Eight-Nation Alliance attacked Beijing, Lao She's pen name was originally used in the novel Lao Zhang's Philosophy. Other pen names include Sheyu, Qianqing, Qianyu, Feiwo and Honglai.

I was admitted to Beijing Normal School in 1913. After graduating in 1918, he served as the principal of Fangjia Hutong Primary School in Beijing. In 1922, he served as a Chinese teacher in Nankai Middle School. In the same year, the first short story "Little Bell" was published. In 1924, he went to England and served as a Chinese lecturer at the Oriental College of London University. After teaching, I read a lot of foreign literary works and officially started my creative career. Three satirical novels describing the life of citizens, Lao Zhang's Philosophy, Zhao Ziyue and Erma, were published one after another. In 193, he returned to the motherland, served as an associate professor at cheeloo university College of Literature in Jinan, and edited Qilu Monthly.

In the summer of 1934, he went to Qingdao Shandong University as a professor of China Literature Department. In the summer of 1936, he resigned as a teacher, specializing in literary creation. After the outbreak of War of Resistance against Japanese Aggression, he went to Wuhan and Chongqing to preside over the work of the All-China Anti-Japanese Association of Literary and Art Circles, served as the executive director and general affairs team leader, and organized the publication of the journal "Anti-Japanese Literature and Art". In March 1946, he was invited by the State Council to give lectures in the United States for one year. After the expiration, he stayed in the United States to write. Returned to Beijing at the end of 1949. He used to be a member of the Cultural and Educational Committee of the State Council, a member of the Standing Committee of the National Committee of the Chinese People's Political Consultative Conference, a vice-chairman of the China Federation of Literary and Art Circles, a vice-chairman of the Chinese Writers' Association and a secretary of the Secretariat, a vice-chairman of the China Folk Literature and Art Research Association, an associate of the China Drama Association and China Qu, and a chairman of the Beijing Federation of Literary and Art Circles. In 1966, he was persecuted to death by the Gang of Four.

Lao She worked hard all his life and created a lot. In 193s, he became one of the most successful writers, with novels such as Xiaopo's Birthday, A Tale of Cat City, Divorce, The Legend of Niu Tianci, Camel Xiangzi, and short stories such as Fair. After its publication, Camel Xiangzi became famous in the literary world and has been translated into more than a dozen foreign languages. His works in the 194s include: the novel Cremation, Four Generations under One roof, the novella My Life, the collection of short stories Anemia and Crescent Moon, and the collection of popular literature and art. The works of the Chinese people after the founding of the People's Republic of China mainly include the novel Under the Red Flag, the long reportage The Unknown Highland has a Name, the essay collection Fuxing Ji, the script Longxugou and Teahouse. Lao She's literary creation lasted for 4 years, and his works mostly focused on the life of urban people, with clear love and hatred and a strong sense of justice. The characters are distinct and the details are true. He can skillfully control the language, and is good at accurately using Beijing dialect to express characters and describe events, so that his works have strong local color and strong life flavor. Lao She won people's love with his satirical and humorous style. In 1951, the Beijing Municipal People's Government awarded him the honorary title of "People's Artist".

"I'm a pawn in the literary and art circles. I've been practicing between a desk and a stool every day for more than ten years. My pen is a gun and I spill my blood on paper. The place where I can be proud is only my diligence; I don't have a general's strategy in my mind, but I did what I had to do. It was, it is, and I hope it will be in the future. On the day I enter the tomb, I would like someone to give me a short tablet inscribed: conscientious pawns in the literary and art circles sleep here. "

-Lao She

Grassland:

This time I saw the grassland. The weather there is lovelier than that in other places. The air is so fresh and the sky is so clear that I always want to sing a song to show my joy. Under the sun, it is a thousand miles away, not boundless. There are hills on all sides, the ground is green, and the hills are green. The sheep went up the hill for a while, and then came down again. Wherever they went, it was like embroidering a boundless green carpet with big white flowers. The lines of those hills are so soft, just like Chinese paintings that are only rendered in green without ink lines, the green colors are flowing everywhere and gently flowing into the clouds. This kind of state is amazing and comfortable; I want to stand around for a long time, and I want to sit down and whisper a beautiful poem. In this realm, even the steed and Daniel sometimes stand still, as if remembering the infinite fun of the grassland.

We visited Chenbaerhuqi. The car walked 15 miles before reaching its destination. One hundred and fifty miles is full of grassland, and another one hundred and fifty miles is still grassland. Driving on the grassland is very free and easy, as long as the direction is good, you can go anywhere. When I first entered the grassland, I couldn't hear a sound or see anything except some birds flying and falling. After walking for a long time, I saw a circuitous belt as bright as glass in the distance. River! When the number of cattle and sheep increased, they also saw the horses, and there was a faint sound of whips. Almost there, almost there. Suddenly, as if blown by a gust of wind, a group of horses appeared on the hill in the distance, and the men, women and children immediately wore all kinds of clothes. The horses galloped and danced like a rainbow. This is the host's arrival dozens of miles away to welcome distant guests. When they saw us, the owners immediately turned their horses' heads, cheered and flew, leading the way in front of the car. The quiet grassland became lively: cheers, cars and hooves rang together. The car followed the horse over the hill and saw several yurts.

outside the yurt, there are many horses and many cars. Many people came to see us by horse or car from dozens of miles away. The owners got off the horse and we got off. I don't know whose hand it is, but I always hold it warmly and hold it. Our languages are different, but our hearts are the same. Shake hands and then shake hands, laugh and then laugh. You say yours and I say mine. In general, it means national unity and mutual assistance.

somehow, I entered the yurt. Milk tea was poured, milk tofu was placed, and the host and guest sat cross-legged. Everyone was polite, so affectionate and not at all restrained. Soon, the hospitable host brought the mutton into the big plate. The cadres toasted us and the 7-year-old man toasted us. We reciprocate, the host raises his glass, and we reciprocate. At this time, Ewenki girls, wearing pointed hats, were generous and a little shy, and came to sing folk songs for the guests. Our fellow singers also sang quickly. Singing seems louder and more touching than any other language. No matter what you sing, the listener will always show a knowing smile.

After dinner, the boys performed horse riding and wrestling, and the girls performed folk dances. The guests are dancing, singing and riding a Mongolian horse. The sun has set to the west, and no one will leave. Yes! Why don't you bear to say goodbye to Mongolian and Chinese feelings?

Feeling beauty and recalling beauty

—— Comments on Prairie