Chapter 18 Sorghum wine.7

During those three days, the Shan family’s compound was turned upside down, Uncle Luohan and his fellows were drenched in wine, the quilts covered by shopkeepers old and young, the clothes worn, the kang mats laid out, pots and pans, needles and threads, All the miscellaneous things were cleared out, moved to the yard, poured with soju, set on fire, and burned the remaining embers, dug a deep pit and buried them. After the house was emptied, Uncle Luohan brought the bunch of copper keys in a bowl filled with sorghum wine.Uncle Luohan said: "Young Mistress, this key has been burnt with wine three times."

Grandma said: "Uncle, you are in charge of this key, and my property is your property." Uncle Luohan was too frightened to speak. Grandma said: "Uncle, it's not time to refuse. You should go and buy cloth and cotton. You should buy all the household items, bedding and tents, and hire someone to do it. Don't be afraid of spending money. In addition, let the guys bring wine and clean the house. Outside the house, in the corner of the wall, pour it all over again." "How much wine do you need?" Uncle Luohan said. "It counts as much as you use." Grandma said.

The guys brought the wine and spilled it all over the place.Grandma stood in the smell of alcohol, pursing her lips and smiling. This time, nine tanks of wine were used for the large-scale disinfection.After pouring the wine, grandma asked the guys to take a new cloth, dip it in the wine, and wipe everything that could be wiped three or five times.Then plaster was painted on the walls, the doors and windows were painted, new grass was laid on the kang, new seats were replaced, and a new world was established. After it was over, grandma rewarded each of the clerks with three dollars in cash.

Under the leadership of Grandma and Uncle Luohan, the shochu business continued vigorously. On the tenth day after the large-scale disinfection, the smell of alcohol dissipated in the room, and the smell of fresh lime was refreshing.Grandma was very happy, and went to the grocery store in the village to buy scissors, red paper, silver needles and gold thread, and many things for women.When I got home and got on the kang, facing the freshly pasted white paper on the window lattice, I picked up the scissors and reamed the window grilles.Grandma is ingenious and ingenious. When she was a daughter in her natal family, she cut paper and embroidered with neighbors' sisters-in-law and sisters, and she often succeeded by surprise.Grandma is an outstanding folk artist. She has made outstanding contributions to the development of paper-cut art in Northeast Gaomi Township.

Gaomi paper-cut, exquisite and transparent, simple and vigorous, imaginative and unconstrained, has its own style. Grandma picked up the scissors and cut off a square of red paper.There was a sudden commotion in my heart like lightning and thunder.Sitting on the kang, a heart flew out of the window lattice early, and soared like a dove over the sea-like sorghum... Grandma grew up without going out of the door, and she was bored at home, almost isolated from the world.She grew up a little, and obeyed her parents' orders and the matchmaker's words, and got married in a hurry.For more than ten days, there have been thousands of ups and downs, the wind blows and turns the canopy, the rain beats the duckweed, the pond is full of broken lotus leaves, and a pair of mandarin ducks are red.For more than ten days, grandma's heart has been raised in honey juice, soaked in ice water, boiled in boiling water, and soaked in sorghum wine. It has a thousand flavors and thousands of scars.Grandma is praying for something, but she doesn't know what to pray for.Holding the scissors, she didn't know what to cut, and her previous whimsical ideas were destroyed by a series of chaotic scenes.Just as she was thinking wildly, grandma heard the melancholy and beautiful crowing of grasshoppers from the field in early autumn and from the sorghum field smelling of wine.Grandma seems to have seen the little green insect, lying on the already light red sorghum tassels, shaking its two slender tentacles and cutting its wings.A bold and novel idea jumped out of grandma's mind:

A grasshopper jumped out of the beautiful cage, stood on the cage cover, flapped its wings and sang. Grandma cut the grasshopper out of the cage, and cut a sika deer.A branch of red plum blossom grows on its back, with its head held high, and in the free world, it is looking for its own carefree and unrestrained happy life. My grandma has always been "unconstrained in doing great things, and not shying away from small concessions in big gifts", her heart is higher than the sky, her life is as thin as paper, she dares to resist and fight, and she has always been consistent.The so-called development of human character undoubtedly needs objective conditions to promote it, but if there are no internal conditions, any objective conditions will be useless.As Chairman Mao Zedong said: Temperature can turn an egg into a chicken, but it cannot turn a stone into a chicken.Confucius said: "Rotten wood cannot be carved, and a wall of dung cannot be polluted." I think it is the same reason.

Grandma's whimsical idea when cutting paper fully shows that she was originally a heroine among women, and only she dared to plant plum blossoms on the back of a deer.Whenever I see grandma's paper-cutting, I feel admiration spontaneously.If my grandma got involved in literature, she would have trampled a large group of writers out of shit.She is the Creator, she is the golden mouth and jade teeth, she said that the grasshopper will come out of the cage, she said that the tree grows on the back of the deer, and the tree grows on the back of the deer. Grandma, compared to you, your grandson looks as shriveled as a white louse that has been hungry for three years.

Grandma was cutting the paper, when suddenly the door creaked and was pushed open, and a familiar yet unfamiliar voice shouted in the yard: "Shopkeeper, do you want to hire someone?" The scissors in grandma's hand fell onto the kang. Father was awakened by the shaking of his grandfather, and saw a long curved dragon on the embankment swimming towards him as if flying.There was a bold roar under the torch, and my father couldn't explain how the winding torch moved my grandfather who killed people like that.Grandpa was sobbing and crying, muttering in his mouth: "Douguan... my son... folks are here..."

All the villagers gathered around, young and old, hundreds of men and women.Those who don't hold torches hold adzes, adzes, and sticks.Father's friends crowded in the front, holding torches made of sorghum stalks, with tattered wadding tied at the top, and dipped in soybean oil. "Commander Yu, we have won!" "Commander Yu, the folks are slaughtering cattle, pigs and sheep to set up a banquet, waiting for the brothers to go back." Facing the torch that illuminated the mighty sorghum majestic and sacred by the winding river, Grandpa knelt down on his knees and wept bitterly and said, "Folks, I, Yu Zhan'ao, have been a sinner through the ages, and fell into Leng Mazi's tricks... ...brothers...all dead!"

The torches were concentrated more densely, the oily smoke soared into the sky, the flames danced restlessly, drops of burning soybean oil screamed "Ziyou Ziyou" and fell, drawing vertical red lines, and continued to burn after landing. Underfoot, there are scorching little flowers blooming all over the place.From the sorghum fields came the chirping of foxes.Schools of fish in the river came towards the light, and the fish in the water sang and quaked.Everyone was speechless.Amidst the hunting and rolling of the flames, there seemed to be a deep and loud sound rolling from the sorghum bushes in the distance.

An old man with a black face and a snow-white beard. One eye is very big and the other is very small.He handed the torch in his hand to the people around him.Bending down, holding my grandfather's arm with both hands, he said, "Commander Yu, get up, get up, get up." Everyone shouted: "Commander Yu, get up, get up, get up." Grandpa stood up slowly, and the old man's warm hands made the muscles in his arms feel great warmth.Grandpa said: "Folks, go to the bridge and have a look." Grandpa and father lead the way, surrounded by torches behind.The fiery light gradually illuminated the hazy river and the field of sorghum until it approached the position near the bridge.On the ninth day of August, the blood-red, tragic half moon is guarded by a few green clouds.The torches illuminate the bridge, and the ghostly shadows of the broken-down cars are everywhere.On the battlefield where the corpses lay all over the place, there was a rush of blood, mixed with the smell of burnt, mixed with the deep and vast smell of sorghum and the smell of the long-standing river. Dozens of women cried in unison, and the burning oil from the sorghum torches dripped onto people's hands and feet.The faces of the men under the torch were like scorched hot iron.The snow-white big stone bridge is bright red, like a rainbow that has been straightened. The old man with black face and white beard shouted loudly: "Why are you crying? Isn't this a big victory? There are 40 million people in China, one against one, and Japan is a tiny place. How many people can fight against us? Give up ten thousand Wan, against him exterminating his race, we still have 300 million, isn't this a great victory? Commander Yu, a great victory!" My grandpa said, "Father, you are giving me the Kuanxin Shunqi pill." The old man said: "That's not right, Commander Yu, the iron-clad victory, you give orders quickly, and you can do whatever you say. There is nothing else in China, except that there are too many people." Grandpa stood up and said, "You guys, put away the bodies of your brothers!" The crowd dispersed and carried the corpses of the team members from the sorghum fields on both sides of the road to the embankment on the west side of the bridge.Grandpa took my father and looked at the points one by one.Father saw Wang Wenyi, Wang Wenyi's wife, Fang Liu, Fang Qi, Liu Dahao, "Nailing Four"... a series of familiar faces and unfamiliar faces.Grandpa's face twitched unceasingly, with horizontal wrinkles and vertical lines all over his face, and his tears were watery. Under the light of the torch, they looked like two pools of molten iron. Grandpa said, "Where's the mute? Douguan, have you seen your dumb uncle?" My father immediately remembered the scene where the mute cut off the devil's head with the sharp waist knife, and the devil's head flew in the air screaming.Father said, "In the car." A few torches were gathered around the car, three men jumped into the car, and lifted the mute to the outside of the car railing.Grandpa ran over and picked up the mute's back. Immediately there were two more people, one supporting the mute's head and the other supporting the mute's legs, stumbling up to Heti.The mute corpse was placed at the easternmost end of the row of corpses.The mute's waist was bent, and the blood-stained long knife was still clutched in his hand.His eyes were wide open, and his mouth was gaping open, as if about to roar. Grandpa knelt down, held down the mute's knees and chest, and pressed hard. Father heard the dumb's spine beeping a few times, and the mute's body straightened amidst the sound.Grandpa went to get the knife, but couldn't get it out, so he had to draw his arms inward, so that the waist knife was close to his leg.A woman knelt down to rub the mute's open eyes. She rubbed and said, "Brother, close your eyes, close your eyes, Commander Yu will avenge you..." "Father, my mother is still in the sorghum field..." my father cried. Grandpa waved his hand and said, "Go...and lead the folks to carry it here..." Father went into the sorghum field, and several men with torches followed him.The dense sorghum stalks caused the torches to splash oil everywhere, and the half-dried sorghum leaves, covered with oil, burned aggrievedly.The sorghum were above the fire, with their heavy heads drooping, weeping hoarsely. My father opened the sorghum stalks, revealing my grandma lying on her back, facing the distant, star-studded sky of Northeast Gaomi Township.Before grandma passed away, she called out to the sky with the voice deep in her soul, and the sky was also moved and sighed.Grandma's back is like beautiful jade, with the pearly grains of sorghum beaked by snow-white pigeons beaked by emerald green beaks on the slightly parted lips and on the white teeth.Grandma's breasts pierced by bullet holes are tall and proud, defying the morality and grand preaching of the world, showing the power and freedom of people, the glory of great love, grandma is immortal! Grandpa is here too.Dozens of torches were burning around grandma's body, and the sorghum leaves ignited by the torches danced limply, and the fire snakes flew among a large piece of sorghum, and the sorghum tassels were in so much pain that they couldn't bear to watch. "Take it away..." Grandpa said. A group of young women surrounded grandma's body, guided by torches in front and illuminated by torches on the left and right. The sorghum field seemed like a fairyland, and strange lights shone around everyone's bodies. Grandma was carried up the embankment and placed on the westernmost side of the line of corpses. The old man with a black face and a white beard asked his grandfather, "Commander Yu, where are we going to raise so many coffins?" Grandpa pondered for a moment, then said: "Don't carry it back, and don't want a coffin, just bury it in the sorghum field first, and after I get back together, I'll hold a big Huilong funeral for all the brothers!" The old man nodded in agreement.He ordered some people to go back and tie up the torches and send them to prepare for the burial overnight.Grandpa said, "By the way, bring some animals and tow that car back." The graves were dug by the light of the fire, and they were completed in the middle of the night.Grandpa had someone chop sorghum stalks and put them in the tomb. After the corpses were put away, they were covered with sorghum stalks, and then filled with soil to form a mound. Grandma was the last one buried in the soil, and the sorghum trees tightly wrapped her body once again.Father watched as the last sorghum covered Grandma's face.There was a sound in his heart, and there seemed to be another deep crack in his scarred heart. This crack, in the course of his long life, never healed.The first soil was shoveled down by grandpa.Sparse large particles of black soil hit the sorghum stalks, and after a bang, there was a rustling sound of black soil particles leaking into the gaps in the sorghum.Like an explosion, the scattered shrapnel pierced the quiet air.Father's heart constricted for an instant, and blood splashed out from the crack that might really exist.His two sharp front teeth bit his thin lower lip. Grandma's grave was also repaired.In the sorghum field, more than fifty pointed graves appeared.The old man said: "Folks, kneel down!" All the elders in the village knelt down in front of a new grave, and the sound of crying shook the whole field.The torches were dying.A huge meteorite fell from the southern sky, until it touched the top of the sorghum before disappearing its scorching light. Later, the torches were changed again, and it was already dawn, and milky white water could already be seen on the foggy river.In the middle of the night, a dozen horses, mules, donkeys and cows were brought in, mixed together, chewing sorghum stalks and eating sorghum tassels. Grandpa ordered the chain iron rakes to be put away, and the first car whose tires had been flattened by the iron rakes was pushed onto the road and into the ditch on the east side.Grandpa found a soil gun, pointed it at the gasoline tank, and fired a shot. The huge gas blew hundreds of iron sand the size of sorghum rice grains onto the fuel tank, making the fuel tank full of holes, and the gasoline gushed out. .Grandpa took a torch from a villager, took a few steps back, aimed it kindly, and threw it over. A white flame exploded like a big tree, the frame of the car was peeled and burned, and the steel and iron plates were twisted and deformed in the flames. . Grandpa greeted everyone, and pushed the second car full of rice, which was intact, onto the bridge and onto the road.The burnt car frames of the third and fourth cars were thrown into the river.The fifth car that retreated to the South Bridge Highway also had an earthen gun on its fuel tank and threw a torch, and it also burned into a mass of flames in an instant.There is only some burnt dust left on the bridge, nothing big.In Henan and Hebei, two piles of fire soared into the sky, occasionally shotguns exploded, and there was a crackling sound.The corpses of the devils in the car were burnt to the point of sizzling oil, and the smell of barbecue was exuded in the fierce smell, which made people's throats itch and stomach upset. The old man asked his grandfather: "Commander Yu, how do you deal with the devil's corpse?" Grandpa said: "Buried in the ground? It stinks our land! Throw it into the fire? Dirty our sky! Throw them down the river and let them float back to the Eastern Kingdom."