Chapter 7 walking man
If you want to ask me: I heard that there is a kind of "walking man" in the mountains of Taiwan, is there such a thing?I can say this: We can never really know what anything we hear is, or isn't.I can only talk to you about memory, and human memory—well, I mean mine, seems to grow, change color, and fall off like my hair, nails, and beard on my face. Cut it off, scrape it off, trim it off.
I've come to realize that memories, like dreams, history, religion, politics, and news reports, are things you believe to be real.Before that, I had no beard (because it is forbidden to grow a beard), full of enthusiasm and confidence in the truth, and believed that I had the ability to overcome all difficulties from tasks, from enemies, and from heaven.Maybe, just like you are now, how should I put it in a popular phrase?Young talent, right?
It was 6:30 in the morning on November 23, 1952. I had just returned from the base to the Taipei headquarters to report to the unit supervisor, who was brushing his teeth.He has good white teeth, and his articulation is clear and decisive, sonorous and powerful.But that time, maybe things came too hastily, or because there was still toothpaste bubbles in his mouth, he kept murmuring indistinctly: "You have a mission, together with Major Joe from the second group, follow his instructions, Report to him at eight o'clock. Uh, this time is the same as usual—how should I put it? It's not the same; yes, it's not the same, there is no enemy concern, and there is no danger, er, it should be said that there will be no dangerous situation, Major Joe will explain it to you." "Report, my equipment and identity—" "No, no, I don't need an identity, and I won't be going back to the mainland this time." He smiled, with bubbles that burst and floated in his mouth Pao, "This time on the main island, in the mountains."
To be honest, from that time until I found those two mountain people, I was really unhappy from the bottom of my heart.I had a hundred reasons why I didn't have to say it, and I could put on a sad face all the way to make Georgie feel ashamed--I never called Major Joe, so as not to feel ashamed myself.He took up the vacancy two years earlier than me, was promoted two years earlier, entered the headquarters two years earlier, and returned to his hometown to take on missions two years earlier (of course he brought me back a bag of soil under the elm tree in the south courtyard).I didn't say to him in a nice voice: "I'm your man for this mission. Old Joe!" After a few words, when I asked about my mother's health and my father's news, I interrupted him abruptly: "I'm still talking about my father! I really went back more and more, and even asked me for any big tasks. This time If I don’t go back, I don’t know when I will hear from him.” “No rush, take your time.” He said, “Maybe I will call back in a year or so.” I waved at him. Waving: "Okay, let's talk about the task."
Compared with any previous time, this task is like child's play.First, no enemies; second, no firearms; third, no cover; fourth, no liaison comrades. "We're Boy Scouts," I said.Qiao Qi obviously didn't mean to argue with me, he just said lightly: "The above is still very cautious. If we can find their north-south ridge line passage through this, it will be of great help to our deployment and activities in the mountainous area." Big help."
Yes, "they" are the legendary "walkers" in the mountains.He has extraordinary survival ability, is good at hunting, has a special and intimate understanding of the mountains, and knows every mystery that nature has bestowed on the island.They use their noses to identify the direction of the wind and the source of water, they are born with ears that can hear flowers blooming and falling in their dreams, and they can see fish swimming at the bottom of the deepest night.You will think this is a myth.I thought so too. "Can they fly?" I said, "then they should be sent behind enemy lines, at least to find out where my father is." "Oh, yes." Qiao Qi continued to maintain his kind and tolerant smile, "' Pedestrians can't get married and have children. They have to be single all their lives, walking around in the mountains of Taiwan all day long, delivering news for various ethnic groups. When they are old, they have to choose an apprentice from all the tribes and train them for a few years , and then—" "And then discharged?"
Maybe you, like me, feel strange about the role of "walking man", who is like a postman and a monk, who can't be called a soldier or a bandit.At least as soon as I heard this, I decided that they lived up to that mythical ability.They have no central idea, no national concept, no cultural education, and even no stance—they don’t even get involved in disputes and wars between clans, but they can enjoy the grand hospitality of each clan—banquets, fine wine, and women.On the night when they first arrived in the tribe, how would these generations of wandering savage rogues deal happily among fat sheep and fresh fruits and beautiful women full of admiration and love?I think Qiao Qi will also immediately think of his wife who is trapped in his hometown-my wife's sister.And how many savage ronin are there around them?well!I can't think about it anymore.At least I gritted my teeth and jolted through the jeep until I inadvertently gritted my tongue and began to regard the Walking Man as a real enemy. "We can't hurt these mountain compatriots anyway," Qiao Qi told me again when he reached the foot of Jilong Mountain, "They won't have any malicious intentions, as long as we quietly follow the ridge path, the mission will be completed, buddy "To be honest, I kind of hate Qiao Qi's tone. Like my father, he always hints to me intentionally or unintentionally: you are too frizzy and not calm enough.They have always suppressed their satisfaction with me, lest I be too arrogant.Whenever I am keenly aware of this, I repay them with double arrogance, causing them astonishment and even pain.Once I saw their inability to cope with my arrogant and painful expressions, I became more convinced that the ability to hurt was the source of my confidence.So I replied to Qiao Qi like this: "You are compatriots with these savages, and I'm still a bit behind." An American goose down jacket.Qiao Qi gently pressed the back of my hand, and when he pressed his palm hard, my five fingers immediately fell into the softness of velvet. He stared at me for a long time before saying: "We are all fellow countrymen, whether we are savages or not."
Our savage compatriots finally appeared on the ridgeline at the northeast corner of Jilong Mountain after three days.Yes, as you can imagine, the "walking man" has tattoos on his face and is not tall, but he is as strong and thick as a rock.Especially when they, one old and one young, appeared in the binoculars from behind a large patch of miscanthus, I suddenly found the task interesting—the old man actually looked at me within a few seconds after I found him. For a while; he covered his forehead with his hand, stared for a long time, and talked to the young man, and the young man also pointed at me.It's hard for you to imagine, right?They looked against the light, and unexpectedly found two well-disguised reconnaissance experts in the grass a thousand meters away.Qiao Qi and I glanced at each other, and I could see that our contradictory thoughts were the same: on the one hand, we hoped that they would not be discovered so as to facilitate the completion of the mission; A good set of opponents.
We kept a tracking distance of about five to eight kilometers with our opponents, and walked into the mist of drizzle and mountain haze before the night fell.For the first few hours in the mountains, everything was calm and smooth. The "walkers" left clear footprints, and the rainwater accumulated in the footprints allowed us to easily judge how far and how far they were ahead.Occasionally, Qiao Qi would talk to me about his trip to Mount Lushan a few years ago.I don't pay much attention to his kind of subject; he is so relaxed, as if the mission is just to visit the mountains and rivers, and I have to look at the footprints again and again, in order to figure out the size of the "walking man" how many.Only when the hand holding the bayonet handle felt sore and numb did I wake up from the previous trance of fantasizing about hand-to-hand combat with my opponent. "You don't need to be too nervous." Qiao Qi said suddenly, "Taiwan's mountains are no more difficult to walk than ours in Heze." "You are so fucking nervous!" I glared at him, and after a long time said, "What is this? The small nose and small eyes are like a fucking mass grave.” He smiled and said, “Let’s see, next year, let’s go back to climb Mount Tai next year. Huh?” I snorted at him, thinking about being a major next year , Immediately afterwards, I glanced at Qiao Qi's shoulders and smiling side face, and suddenly felt that a senior official seemed to be more optimistic.
So, will the master and apprentice of the "walking man" do the same?When the old one imparts experience to the young one, will he also wear a reassuring smile, so that the other party can eliminate the most elusive fear in his heart? (An old wrinkled face with tattoos must be more fake when smiling.) What kind of stories will he tell to comfort young people and win their trust and obedience? (My father once boasted that he once killed a row of "Turkish Communists" with his bare hands.) Is there a relationship between order and obedience between them? (Jorge didn't need to order me; he knew I believed in obedience after all.) Would the young man want to outdo his master and make the old man his rival? (Once I see Georgie as an adversary, I don't want to think about how close we used to 'grow up in a pair of pants'.) "I still remember your virtue of having two strings of yellow snot drooping," said Georgie , "It's so fast, it's just a blink of an eye." I looked at him again, and suddenly I didn't think I knew such a major—even though he was wearing the same camouflage uniform as me. "Why is it suddenly cold?" I said.
The rain really picked up.We began to worry about the footprints on the ground that would soon be buried in the night with mud and grass blades.
later?oh!Don't ask me such stupid questions.What you want to interview is not just a story, right?Yeah?Can you learn more about people?Like the gum in your mouth, you don't chew it just to spit it in the trash, do you?I still remember that it rained so hard that our teeth were wet - because we had to breathe through our mouths or we would choke off the bridge of our noses.Jorge ran in the lead, and I followed, hoping to reduce the tracking distance to half a kilometer or a kilometer or so before the footprints disappeared, although that would easily give us away.From time to time, I have to spray the rainwater around my nose and mouth, let the thatch, vines, and the spikes attached to some ferns scrape my cheeks and neck; Someone close?The light tattoos on his face may indicate that he is a fledgling, inexperienced character.Well, he may not be as savage as the old one, but he must be galloping on a more savage road.He will also gradually develop an old wrinkled face, and the face of the tattoo and the underlay will turn into black.He also enjoys many heroic cheers and feasts, and has one woman after another.He will also train an apprentice to run in the wind and rain.Then I thought about what happened to me after I was promoted, working as a staff member for a while, becoming a small supervisor, and being promoted to a commander.Maybe one day sitting in the headquarters, sleeping in the office, and brushing your teeth while giving orders when there is an urgent task.I sprayed another mouthful of rainwater, ran up and ran side by side with Qiao Qi, and said, "Look at me—how long do we have to last?" A winding and hidden hunting track under the steep side slope, said: "It's hard to say. If you are lucky, it will take a month to go from north to south without losing track." "No, I mean—" I couldn't go on. .Qiao Qi looked at me, looked at the hunting path: "It's strange, I'm getting more and more uncertain, if the 'walkers' walked along the mountain road, we are standing next to them now. If they go down the hunting path, there will be no On the ridgeline, and the man is behind us!" We looked around at the same time.The mountain was darker than the night, and the arrow bamboos facing the ridge were densely packed with hairs. At this time, the mountain came alive like a giant beast quietly lying around us, and the two "walkers" were everywhere. up. "They have to eat, drink, and sleep, right?" I looked carefully at any reflective places in the valley, and as far as I could see, there was nothing but the faintly moving trees.I licked a few drops of rainwater to keep my mouth and throat moist, and my frayed tongue suddenly felt a burning pain.
Worse yet: After another mile, the trail disappears before a rock larger than ten two-and-a-half-ton trucks stacked together.Georgie spent a full five minutes studying the moss, vines, and vines on the rock wall, and concluded: "Impossible! Impossible!" "They went up?" I clearly saw that the moss was completely covered with no trace. traces of destruction.Qiao Qi, on the other hand, just as I expected, showed a resentful expression in a daze: "Unless they know invisibility, or grow wings." "The road should be right, and they know how to shelter from the rain." He tipped the potato leaf stalks that were broken off at the foot.Just as I was smearing the dirt and grass from the point of the knife on the heels of my boots, a small thought occurred to me; I began to pay attention to Georgie's face.He frowned, wiping the rain with his sweat-wiping gesture, maybe he was as worried as I was about the failure of the mission (and he had to take responsibility, so he should be more disturbed): worried that the "walking man" would jump out of the tree or the crack of the rock wall at any time Hunting us down, worried that the heavy rain would continue to pour down and cause landslides and even mountain torrents... But my thoughts came from my nostrils. "Huh!" I snorted several times in a row, except for the first one, the rest were just covering up, covering up a very humble and stubborn indifference-I really want to see Qiao Qi's angry look because of remorse.He thought I was caught in the rain and caught a cold.
You must be wondering: In a mission with no enemies, it only took me six hours to find two enemies—my prey and my companions.I wouldn't be surprised, and I wouldn't try to justify it, if you think I'm hostile or even hateful.My training alerts me: How can I generate, retain, use, or justify my power if there is no enemy?Yes, you understand that any training with a distant and lofty purpose has a so-called "imaginary enemy". Do you understand "imaginary"?It is not at all distant and sublime, it is in your body, building fortifications for you, building a model of the whole world.From the time when Qiao Qi and I left our hometown in Shandong and served as young soldiers in the War of Resistance Against Japan, we fought from Anhui to Jiangxi (we also went to visit the Holy Land of Lushan Mountain), from Hubei to Sichuan, and fought all the way, five years and then ten years, every day ——I mean every day—we train our lives with war; when there are no live ammunition, we give ourselves "imaginary enemies".Without an imaginary enemy, you can't face a real enemy at all; yes, pretending to be true, pretending to be false, true to false, false to true—this is the key idea that Qiao Qi and I have buried in our bones for many years .You said, how could it be possible for Qiao Qi to forget these things in six hours, and regard the two "walking men" who might have his head off at any time, and me who is persecuting him step by step and surpassing him as compatriots? "Don't get sick!" He took out his compass to look at it for a while, and said to the mountains that surrounded us, "These two mountain people are really difficult to deal with. I can't deal with them alone." Of course we didn't sleep that night.At least Georgie and I have asked each other once or twice, "Do you think we were actually spotted by the 'Walkers'?" and share the fears that each would never admit to.In fact, it's not just that simple, we also want to test each other's fears. "I heard that they don't eat people anymore," Qiao Qi said. "It's hard to say." I was more ruthless than him, "We don't know much about this island, it's in the wilderness, God knows if we'll turn into a bunch of savage shit after dawn!" After dawn, the rain became lighter and then stopped unconsciously.We have trampled through the moss and the vines, one after the other up the rock face, to this side of the mountain.Then, the figures of "walking people" appeared again in the binoculars—they squatted side by side on the side wall of another mountain, as if they were waiting for something, motionless. "They—fuck! How did they get there?" I almost cried out, but the voice was not small after all, which made Georgie, who was self-cultivated, frowned.In front of us lay a ravine at least fifty meters wide and one hundred and fifty meters deep.There is still only slippery green moss on the valley wall.If we immediately climbed down to the bottom of the valley, we would fall right into their sight, and maybe we would become living hedgehogs under the bows and arrows made of thick wood, thin bamboo and animal tendons.If they do not move, they are likely to disappear in an instant like frightened rabbits in the field.Even so, we still did not dare to stop for a while, and quickly tied the rope around our waists, looking for the fulcrum of the grapple, and paying close attention to every move of the "walking man". They started talking after a while, looking at their expressions as if they were smiling, smiling happily. "Maybe they didn't see us," said Jorge. "Maybe they want to lure the enemy in," I said. "Maybe——" Qiao Qi put down the lens tube, and once again showed a broad smile, "I am very enthusiastic about doing missions with you, and I am getting more and more energetic." The two "walkers" looked similar.They laughed, shook their heads occasionally, and pointed fingers.Finally, they stood up together and bent over to arrange something. "What are they doing?" we said at the same time. It wasn't long before they were ready to start their ascent to the summit.This is a good opportunity, no matter how powerful they are, they don't have eyes behind their backs. We only need 20 seconds to sink to the bottom and we can follow.Just as I was looking at the bottom of the valley to search for shelter, Georgie arched my shoulders and motioned me to look at the place where the "walkers" on the opposite side had just sheltered: "They also made marks along the road just like us." Then, we issued a message at the same time "Hey hey" laughter, suddenly felt that "walking man" is not so magical anymore.The so-called marks are two pieces of bamboo tubes buried in the soil, neither camouflaged, nor can they obviously represent the direction, it looks eye-catching and boring.But the way they climbed to the top was quite interesting; without any tools, they took turns using each other's body as a pedal, their hands and feet were strong and neat, and the two of them would make weird yells like teasing or encouraging from time to time.After a while, we reached the ridge.When the "walking man" disappeared in the north and northwest, we ziplined downhill, struggled to rein in the rope, and jumped across the ankle-length stream as if we were desperately facing each other.Georgie arrived at the spot marked by the "Walking Man" before I did.He smiled smugly, and while reaching into the bamboo tube, he said, "How is it? Dude! Old brother——" Then his expression changed, and he slowly withdrew his hand, covered with a piece of savage shit.
You must have heard the creed about majesty, and there's something about the "image problem" in the current buzzword.In any case, the chief cannot lose his majesty or "damage his image" in front of his subordinates.So I must not grin and laugh like you are now, I must grit my teeth and make a sympathetic sound that is both regretful and angry.Having said that, if it is a friend or even a "buddy" who grew up with shit on the hand, how can you not laugh?So I said: The real way to test friendship is to see if he can stand your ridicule; if he can't stand it, he must treat you as a "subordinate" in his heart.If you don't believe me, you can go back and try. Of course I won't try. "Alas!" I said, "These bastards are cheating on us." I said "we"; but Qiao Qi seemed to see through my indifference that I deliberately didn't smile, and ran back to the stream without answering or ignoring me. handwashing.I guess he'd get a choke from my reaction, the way I felt the first two years when he brought me a bag of dirt.At that time, he was like a teacher who came to inspect at the grassroots level. He slapped me on the shoulder hard (causing me to be pierced into my flesh by a epaulet rivet that took off my hat), and said with a smile: "Do it well! Huh? See you later It’s yours.” Afterwards, I also went back to the mainland for several missions, but no matter what kind of soil or tiles I brought back, my mother stopped crying every time I handed it into the hands of my mother.Once she threw away a bag of flower seeds and said, "Your father still has no news? - The yard here is small, so don't bring these shabby things with you when you have nothing to do." Yes, we all have That choking feeling of being pushed to the ends of the earth by the people around you.I looked at the strong figure by the stream from afar; I heard the splashing of the running water and his thick sigh. We spent the day in dejected silence, hearing many ambient sounds—including turtledoves, pheasants, and crows, and on several occasions I even suspected the roar of wolves and bears.Qiao Qi would occasionally stop, tilt his head and squint, or raise his binoculars to look around for a while.And we don't talk anymore. The "walking man" sang loudly all the way three kilometers away. The singing sound hit the rocks, and the echo penetrated into our eardrums, as if they were guiding something. At that time, I dared to bet 10,000 times: their songs had no meaning at all, were not majestic at all, and did not boost morale at all.I doubt even more what mood they can sing.They are so casual, maybe when they hear the forest leaves moving, they sing Shada Shada, when they hear the river water, they sing Lulilula, when they hear turtledoves, they come to a gurgling card, or they just go with the crows—— Oh-- However, before I knew it, my own throat also started to itch, but it was hard to sing the March with military songs all by myself.I turned my face to look at Qiao Qi, and his Adam's apple trembled slightly; I couldn't hear him humming.Presumably he couldn't hear me either. I was humming "Yellow River Trilogy", which was popular a few years ago.On the contrary, the voiceless singing of "Walking Man" surrounded us like a mighty mountain haze, and we followed the voice effortlessly for a whole day until the setting sun threw our shadows into the mountain depression. go.
I believe that you also have this kind of experience: at night, people will become more pessimistic, and any thoughts will be turned into a dark corner in the shortest time, and they will hug loneliness, despair, fear, and death tightly.This mood eased the tension between Georgie and me, and we would rather start talking. "What shall we eat? Tonight." When Qiao Qi said this, he took out a razor from his arms to shave the stubble on his chin, and I happened to ask at the same time: "What does the 'walking man' eat?" Then I handed him a wild sweet potato and a few yams, "Maybe they are roasting wild boars, I'll go around and have a look in front of them." I pointed to the opposite side of the lowland where the "walking man" rested, halfway up the mountain over there There is a well-hidden acacia forest. Perhaps based on the mood I just mentioned, Qiao Qi was unwilling to defy me or even please me. He promised me to take a risk to satisfy my curiosity. I quietly slid down the mud slope like a grass snake coming out of its hole to look for food in the evening in early spring. Following the trend of the bushes and ferns around the lowlands, I circled from behind the "walking man" to the opposite mountain wall, making the sound of autumn insects. And saw that the master and the apprentice were cutting dead branches and lighting a pile of firewood.I yelled twice more, waited for a while, and climbed up an acacia tree with dense branches and leaves while they were concentrating on plucking the feathers of a mountain bird. The "walkers" still sat quietly together, roasting the mountain fowl; poured white slurry from a leather bag, poured it on the shiny food, and took turns drinking it. Twenty minutes later, I sneaked back to where I was, and told Georgie, "They're both wine and meat, so fucking free!" He shaved his temples very carefully (with the sound of iron and stone rubbing against each other) , and said slowly and deeply: "How many years have we buddies been drunk together? Huh?" I hesitated for a while, but I couldn't answer. There seems to be no coming back.I had no choice but to turn my head and look at the acacia tree: "Who still cares about that?" Qiao Qi smiled strangely, and took out a flat steel cylinder that American soldiers often carry next to him from the interlayer of his clothes: "Here, some! Golden Gate Sorghum Let’s get rid of the cold!” We each took two sips and looked at each other in turn.The smell of alcohol rose between my brows, and I really wanted to tell him that if we were just friends without class, or just officers and subordinates instead of "buddies", maybe the smell of alcohol would be much milder. "It's really strong!" I turned to look at the acacia tree again, and said, "Fuck! They are really good at roasting birds. It smells so good that I can't help but drink. If I use it to drink—" Qiao Qi suddenly gestured to stop Stopped me: "Did you smell it? Really smelled it?" I nodded, and then my heart changed. Looking at the wine bottle in my hand and the tree on the opposite mountain, I felt something was wrong!Qiao Qi had already sprinted to the mud slope, and I followed him and looked down. There was only a pile of firewood left, and the "walking man" was gone.The wind blows from the back of our heads all the way to the acacia tree—the wind has already turned without anyone noticing. We extinguished the firewood, found traces of withered grass that had been trampled on the ground, and resumed the same silence as the night; with loneliness, despair, fear, and the half-roasted mountain fowl left by the fire by the "walker", chewing on the exhaustion and freedom blame, go on.
You may think: In the next trip, the "walking man" will no longer use singing to guide us.We have almost confirmed: the other party has definitely discovered the stalker behind it.The question is: in what mood will they see us? --enemy?wrong.Among them, they don't care about political positions at all. How can they have any concept of hostility?hunter?No, they must have known: no hunter accepts the humiliation of stalking another for prey.friend?What's more wrong, why should they dodge their friends?Unless—"Unless they don't want others to know the route they are walking." Qiao Qi said, "There are articles, there are articles! From the beginning, it said that they should follow secretly. I thought it was a language barrier and it was not easy to discuss. But seeing them hiding like this—” At this point, he began to rub the palm of the hand that caught the shit, “Do you think they will have a problem?” “What problem?” “Do you remember Don’t you remember that the secret service team cracked a stronghold of bandit espionage in Qidu or Badu Mountain in the first two years?” I nodded. "In your opinion, does the secret passage of 'Walking Man' have anything to do with the hidden spies?" People' are spreading news for 'them'—hey, it's not impossible! There must be concerns about this—" "That's why you are not allowed to carry firearms, and you are not allowed to hurt people. You must keep alive, put long lines, and catch big fish." Fish!" I rushed to say, not to be outdone, "It's reasonable to string together like this." "Yes, it's reasonable." We actually shook hands. But at dawn, we heard the loud and clear singing of the "walking man" again; the same tone, the same randomness.But in Georgie's mind and in my mind, that song definitely meant something else.We discussed for half an hour (or even longer), and there were two reasonable conclusions: 1. They deliberately pretended not to find us in order to relax our vigilance, and then set up a camp in any pass or dense forest by surprise. Traps, traps, or an artificial cave-in to catch us all; and two, their singing is actually a kind of alarm to notify suspicious accomplices (say, spies) hiding nearby. The other thing is that when I think about it later, I can't help clenching my fists, shocked by my audacity. From that day on, the "walking man" left some of what he ate every time, and left it by the fire or on the conspicuous big rock.Qiao Qi was determined not to eat. "Maybe it's poisonous! Things have come to this point, I think it's better to be careful." "But we ate that roasted bird, it's fine. Also, I ate half a Qiang from yesterday morning and a hare at night. It’s okay—” “You forgot that you said that day—’lure the enemy into the depths’, didn’t you?” He pulled out his bayonet for the first time, and slammed a piece of boar leg in front of us. Inserted, raised his arm and swung it far away, and then said to himself: "It's better not to eat." "Old Joe!" I stared at the boar meat covered in mud hungry and angrily, "You are an order What about it? Or--" "That's right!" He tensed his face and looked at me fixedly, "It's an order!" I snorted, walked to the wild boar, picked it up, took a big bite of the mud and meat, While chewing, I said: "Then I disobey! You go back and deal with me!" The mud clods were ground into sand grains and ash powder in my mouth (making a crunchy sound of iron and stone rubbing against each other).In fact, I'm also afraid of poisonous ones-there are bright red poisonous mushrooms everywhere, which shocks us who are keen.
Those of you who are in contact with data, sorting out data, and using data all day long, why do you believe in data?Indeed - as long as the information is reasonable, it is trustworthy.Is it true?Because people of your generation have reason to follow, there are no more shocking things.Disasters, struggles, war disasters, massacres... No matter how crazy things are, there can be vague reasons to explain them.I can reasonably explain the emotional disobedience; Jorge also reasonably signed me after the assignment.I can even reasonably explain why my stomach hurts after eating that piece of mountain pork: 1. I was poisoned; 2. I swallowed dirty mud; I fought back the pain in my stomach.In order to prevent Qiao Qi from noticing the cold sweat pouring out of my body, he stepped up his pace on purpose, yelling from time to time: "It's so hot, this kind of damn weather!" Occasionally, I would find some weeds that help digestion and chew them in my mouth Chewing, but to no avail.Many, many years later, I grew a beard and raised a large group of wild dogs that organized themselves into a class society on the farm. I saw them chewing weeds for digestive diseases on the nearby grasslands and quickly recovered; When I think back to that day, it suddenly dawns on me that what makes us sick is not social class, but our resistance to nature in order to consolidate class society—those we have delicately woven to make it reasonable. I was declared ill in the evening three days later.I was almost 500 meters behind Jorge.He ran back panting, holding my shoulders, his face glowing with excitement, and my vision was blurring.He yelled, "Dude! Got it! The Walking Man has settled down in the valley ahead, which seems to be a settlement. If there's anything wrong with them, they can definitely find something out there." "Well, "I opened my eyelids and felt the left cheek twitching, I wanted to laugh, "Then you have done a great job—" Then I fell backwards, he grabbed my waist, and I was spinning in a daze, Being carried on his shoulders, listening to him swearing in vicious words I have never heard before, I can only vaguely see his heavy heels trampling the grass between the stone crevices along the way.In the end, I listened carefully to a sentence: "You and your father are as stinking, what else can you do if you are a cunt except to be brave?" Yuan Yuan said: "You wait for me, I will go to their settlement to have a look." "I'm fine, I'm fine--" "I tell you, you. Give. Me. Stay. Wait." He Interrupting me, his tone was still stern, "You can't be better! But we still have a task, we can't just smash it! If you dare to take a step, don't blame me for not being a buddy." He came back again and approached I smiled wryly, "This is also an order—if I'm lucky, I'll find some herbs for you." I was alone in the cave.I became more and more awake, and I felt more and more cramps in my abdominal cavity.It took me a long time to touch the luggage and the kettle beside me, barely sitting up, licking my chapped lips while unscrewing the lid of the kettle.At this moment, I suddenly realized that I was not the only one in the cave—on the ground directly opposite me, in the air about twenty feet away and about two feet high, there was a pair of green eyes shining.My first thought was the "walking man" who poisoned me.Immediately, I drank, sprinkled the water bottle, pulled out the bayonet, and threw it at the center of the pair of eyes. In the next second, I stood up and passed out again. I felt that the opponent's sharp arrow had pierced a palm-sized hole in my abdomen.
If you are not forgetful, you may remember what I said at the beginning: memories grow and change over time.Let's say: I'm sitting comfortably in this easy chair under the blanket, and I'm crossing my fingers, holding my belly, and rubbing it gently.而我已经不记得它在三十年前曾经疼痛，痛得昏过去两次，甚至还以为自己中了箭。我以为自己中箭之后所发生的事却更荒唐，我这一辈子恐怕都弄不清楚究竟。what's going on?是什么道理？ 我可能做了一个梦。然而也可能不是梦（像干我们这种职务的人是不容许酣睡入梦而丧失警觉的），我甚至忘了自己有没有闭上或睁开眼睛。总而言之，当时的情况是乔奇回来了，我想和他说话，要水喝，告诉他“走路人”射了我一箭，我也飞给他一刀。我还想问他：聚落那边的情形如何？另一个“走路人”是不是像传说里那样，受到隆重的欢迎？欢迎会是不是在团团圆圆的月光下举行？有没有肥酒瘦牛？有没有美丽、害羞、娇怯的少女？或者，有没有出现匪谍的踪迹？发生状况了吗？开枪了吗？有炮击吗？看见我们的老婆了吗？还有我爹，我爹也披挂上阵了吗？他杀了多少士兵？还是陷入敌人口袋战术的重围里去了？ 可是我一句也问不出口，我发现进洞来的又不是乔奇，是我爹！他蹲跪在我的面前，一言不发，一脸乱胡子相互结着，他左右搬动我的脑袋，两手如冰一般冷。我叫他：“爹！”他打了我两耳光，还是不说话。我把中箭的部位指给他看，他也照我的手势摸了摸，那掌心传来的寒气使我浑身不自在，我开始发抖，并且清楚地意识到：我爹死了！他的鬼魂来看我了。我使尽全身的力气又喊他一声：“爹！”接着，好像，好像，好像我也死了。是的，我爹在我奋力喊叫的同时从腰间掏出一袋老家南院榆树下的泥土，塞在我嘴里，他用力塞着，直到一包泥土全滚进我的咽喉。我只觉得一身冰凉，哽咽着，死去。 如果那是一个梦，而我没死，那么很显然地，我爹托梦给我的道理是他已不在人世，尸骨俱寒了。我是决计不肯如此相信的——事实上去年乔奇从海外带信给我，说我爹还硬朗朗地活着，他又娶了妻子，那女人比他短命得多，而他，强悍一如往昔，只是缺钱用。 如果那不是梦，为什么当乔奇把我叫醒的时候竟然说：“好小子！睡这么一觉烧就退了。”当时我一把扯住他的领子：“我挨了一箭！是他——”我指指肚子和对面。 肚子已经不疼了，对面的岩壁钉着我的刺刀，刀尖插在一条雨伞节的脑袋上。
我猜想得到，你们以为我在编故事。我告诉你们的是记忆，记忆好像和编故事差不多，是吗？“你的故事比我的有意思。”乔奇和我眯着眼走出山洞时这样说道。当时天已经大亮，我放了一串带有泥土和青草气味的响屁，问他：“你的怎么样？”“什么也不怎么样。我一进山洼就跟丢了一个，他们狡猾得很，分头走不同的路。我只好盯着那个小的，他到聚落里和几个老太婆打过招呼，要了碗小米之类的东西……”“然后呢？”“去他妈的然后，那家伙掉头回来了！差一点和我头碰头。”乔奇扶扶我的肩，眉头一紧，又给我一个苦笑，“我再跟回来，嘿！另外那个老小子已经在西北角悬崖那边儿生了个火，两人喝起粥来啦！” 我们直接攀登山洞上方的岩壁，在一块马鞍形的云母石顶端占住制高点，一眼望去，悬崖就在三百公尺之外。两个“走路人”一个也不少，盘坐在崖角上，身边铺着一大堆翠绿翠绿的山芋叶。“他们又在搞什么鬼？”我说，瞄一眼乔奇的胡子茬，忽然觉得他也许在跟我装傻——前一天晚上我昏过去之后，一定是他回来给我吃了什么草药，治好我的肚子。然而他和我一样，对于施人的好处这一类的事只会在心里记一辈子，却总是羞于开口。“谁知道？”他说。“对了！还有——”我又放了一串响屁：“昨天你给我吃了什么玩意儿？”他仍旧头也不回地贴住望远镜筒，说：“你还要吃什么？我给你吃屎——欸！快看，那两个老小子一定有问题，我看他们是要打旗语。” 悬崖深不可测，对面的崖石看起来矮些，两崖之间起码也有三十公尺宽。环绕在四周的，尽是些童秃的巨石，不要说隐蔽，连根杂草也没有。“他们打旗语给谁看哪？”我顶回去，算是报复他跟我装傻到底，可是不能否认，我开始衷心地感谢乔奇——历时三分钟之久。三分钟之后，“走路人”在一眨眼蹦起身子，各自撑开两扇由山芋叶编成的大帆块，向我们藏身的云母石下方奔来。我们赶紧缩下脖子。他们却发出土狼的声，听那声音的方向，根本是冲着我们的！ 乔奇和我终于忍不住，豁地站起来，居高临下，握紧刺刀。然而我在霎时间愣住了，只觉得浑身的血液再度凝结成寒冰——“走路人”对我们挥舞双手，带动腋下的芋叶帆，露出两口白牙，笑着。那个老的，竟然生了一脸相互结的乱胡子！他们在下一瞬间冲向悬崖，然后像两只鹞鹰一样地在两山之间的回旋气流中盘桓片刻，最后降落到对面低崖的平顶岩上。于是他们看起来小了许多，而且让人分不清谁是师父，谁是徒弟了。
如果你们要问我：听说台湾山地有一种“走路人”，拥有神秘的能力，走一条不让外人知道的棱线通路，在各族之间传递讯息，没有思想也没有立场，是不是有这回事？ 我可以这么说：乔奇在“走路人”飞掉之后指天发誓，要再派一连人跟踪他们，要查明“走路人”的一切，要了解其中所有的秘密；他甚至要在那两个悬崖之间搭一座桥。结果他什么也没做，我们顺利地走完了各人的军旅生涯，其间再也没有一同出过任务，所以尔后再谈起往事来，便又像儿时一般亲近了。唯一不同的是，我单身经营这个农场（曾经跋涉到十五公里以外镇上的小戏院看《老莫的第二个春天》）；乔奇则结婚了，他留学国外的儿子把他接去养老，他给我的最后一封信上还提到：“你记不记得咱们吃半熟的猪肉那一次？我现在常吃，好不过的。” 然而在我的记忆里，乔奇根本没有吃那山猪肉，它也不是半熟的。也许你们该去问问他。无论你们相信谁的记忆，它都会在相信之后变成最真实的故事。
You must be wondering: In a mission with no enemies, it only took me six hours to find two enemies—my prey and my companions.I wouldn't be surprised, and I wouldn't try to justify it, if you think I'm hostile or even hateful.My training alerts me: How can I generate, retain, use, or justify my power if there is no enemy?Yes, you understand that any training with a distant and lofty purpose has a so-called "imaginary enemy". Do you understand "imaginary"?It is not at all distant and sublime, it is in your body, building fortifications for you, building a model of the whole world.From the time when Qiao Qi and I left our hometown in Shandong and served as young soldiers in the War of Resistance Against Japan, we fought from Anhui to Jiangxi (we also went to visit the Holy Land of Lushan Mountain), from Hubei to Sichuan, and fought all the way, five years and then ten years, every day ——I mean every day—we train our lives with war; when there are no live ammunition, we give ourselves "imaginary enemies".Without an imaginary enemy, you can't face a real enemy at all; yes, pretending to be true, pretending to be false, true to false, false to true—this is the key idea that Qiao Qi and I have buried in our bones for many years .You said, how could it be possible for Qiao Qi to forget these things in six hours, and regard the two "walking men" who might have his head off at any time, and me who is persecuting him step by step and surpassing him as compatriots? "Don't get sick!" He took out his compass to look at it for a while, and said to the mountains that surrounded us, "These two mountain people are really difficult to deal with. I can't deal with them alone." Of course we didn't sleep that night.At least Georgie and I have asked each other once or twice, "Do you think we were actually spotted by the 'Walkers'?" and share the fears that each would never admit to.In fact, it's not just that simple, we also want to test each other's fears. "I heard that they don't eat people anymore," Qiao Qi said. "It's hard to say." I was more ruthless than him, "We don't know much about this island, it's in the wilderness, God knows if we'll turn into a bunch of savage shit after dawn!" After dawn, the rain became lighter and then stopped unconsciously.We have trampled through the moss and the vines, one after the other up the rock face, to this side of the mountain.Then, the figures of "walking people" appeared again in the binoculars—they squatted side by side on the side wall of another mountain, as if they were waiting for something, motionless. "They—fuck! How did they get there?" I almost cried out, but the voice was not small after all, which made Georgie, who was self-cultivated, frowned.In front of us lay a ravine at least fifty meters wide and one hundred and fifty meters deep.There is still only slippery green moss on the valley wall.If we immediately climbed down to the bottom of the valley, we would fall right into their sight, and maybe we would become living hedgehogs under the bows and arrows made of thick wood, thin bamboo and animal tendons.If they do not move, they are likely to disappear in an instant like frightened rabbits in the field.Even so, we still did not dare to stop for a while, and quickly tied the rope around our waists, looking for the fulcrum of the grapple, and paying close attention to every move of the "walking man". They started talking after a while, looking at their expressions as if they were smiling, smiling happily. "Maybe they didn't see us," said Jorge. "Maybe they want to lure the enemy in," I said. "Maybe——" Qiao Qi put down the lens tube, and once again showed a broad smile, "I am very enthusiastic about doing missions with you, and I am getting more and more energetic." The two "walkers" looked similar.They laughed, shook their heads occasionally, and pointed fingers.Finally, they stood up together and bent over to arrange something. "What are they doing?" we said at the same time. It wasn't long before they were ready to start their ascent to the summit.This is a good opportunity, no matter how powerful they are, they don't have eyes behind their backs. We only need 20 seconds to sink to the bottom and we can follow.Just as I was looking at the bottom of the valley to search for shelter, Georgie arched my shoulders and motioned me to look at the place where the "walkers" on the opposite side had just sheltered: "They also made marks along the road just like us." Then, we issued a message at the same time "Hey hey" laughter, suddenly felt that "walking man" is not so magical anymore.The so-called marks are two pieces of bamboo tubes buried in the soil, neither camouflaged, nor can they obviously represent the direction, it looks eye-catching and boring.But the way they climbed to the top was quite interesting; without any tools, they took turns using each other's body as a pedal, their hands and feet were strong and neat, and the two of them would make weird yells like teasing or encouraging from time to time.After a while, we reached the ridge.When the "walking man" disappeared in the north and northwest, we ziplined downhill, struggled to rein in the rope, and jumped across the ankle-length stream as if we were desperately facing each other.Georgie arrived at the spot marked by the "Walking Man" before I did.He smiled smugly, and while reaching into the bamboo tube, he said, "How is it? Dude! Old brother——" Then his expression changed, and he slowly withdrew his hand, covered with a piece of savage shit.
You must have heard the creed about majesty, and there's something about the "image problem" in the current buzzword.In any case, the chief cannot lose his majesty or "damage his image" in front of his subordinates.So I must not grin and laugh like you are now, I must grit my teeth and make a sympathetic sound that is both regretful and angry.Having said that, if it is a friend or even a "buddy" who grew up with shit on the hand, how can you not laugh?So I said: The real way to test friendship is to see if he can stand your ridicule; if he can't stand it, he must treat you as a "subordinate" in his heart.If you don't believe me, you can go back and try. Of course I won't try. "Alas!" I said, "These bastards are cheating on us." I said "we"; but Qiao Qi seemed to see through my indifference that I deliberately didn't smile, and ran back to the stream without answering or ignoring me. handwashing.I guess he'd get a choke from my reaction, the way I felt the first two years when he brought me a bag of dirt.At that time, he was like a teacher who came to inspect at the grassroots level. He slapped me on the shoulder hard (causing me to be pierced into my flesh by a epaulet rivet that took off my hat), and said with a smile: "Do it well! Huh? See you later It’s yours.” Afterwards, I also went back to the mainland for several missions, but no matter what kind of soil or tiles I brought back, my mother stopped crying every time I handed it into the hands of my mother.Once she threw away a bag of flower seeds and said, "Your father still has no news? - The yard here is small, so don't bring these shabby things with you when you have nothing to do." Yes, we all have That choking feeling of being pushed to the ends of the earth by the people around you.I looked at the strong figure by the stream from afar; I heard the splashing of the running water and his thick sigh. We spent the day in dejected silence, hearing many ambient sounds—including turtledoves, pheasants, and crows, and on several occasions I even suspected the roar of wolves and bears.Qiao Qi would occasionally stop, tilt his head and squint, or raise his binoculars to look around for a while.And we don't talk anymore. The "walking man" sang loudly all the way three kilometers away. The singing sound hit the rocks, and the echo penetrated into our eardrums, as if they were guiding something. At that time, I dared to bet 10,000 times: their songs had no meaning at all, were not majestic at all, and did not boost morale at all.I doubt even more what mood they can sing.They are so casual, maybe when they hear the forest leaves moving, they sing Shada Shada, when they hear the river water, they sing Lulilula, when they hear turtledoves, they come to a gurgling card, or they just go with the crows—— Oh-- However, before I knew it, my own throat also started to itch, but it was hard to sing the March with military songs all by myself.I turned my face to look at Qiao Qi, and his Adam's apple trembled slightly; I couldn't hear him humming.Presumably he couldn't hear me either. I was humming "Yellow River Trilogy", which was popular a few years ago.On the contrary, the voiceless singing of "Walking Man" surrounded us like a mighty mountain haze, and we followed the voice effortlessly for a whole day until the setting sun threw our shadows into the mountain depression. go.
I believe that you also have this kind of experience: at night, people will become more pessimistic, and any thoughts will be turned into a dark corner in the shortest time, and they will hug loneliness, despair, fear, and death tightly.This mood eased the tension between Georgie and me, and we would rather start talking. "What shall we eat? Tonight." When Qiao Qi said this, he took out a razor from his arms to shave the stubble on his chin, and I happened to ask at the same time: "What does the 'walking man' eat?" Then I handed him a wild sweet potato and a few yams, "Maybe they are roasting wild boars, I'll go around and have a look in front of them." I pointed to the opposite side of the lowland where the "walking man" rested, halfway up the mountain over there There is a well-hidden acacia forest. Perhaps based on the mood I just mentioned, Qiao Qi was unwilling to defy me or even please me. He promised me to take a risk to satisfy my curiosity. I quietly slid down the mud slope like a grass snake coming out of its hole to look for food in the evening in early spring. Following the trend of the bushes and ferns around the lowlands, I circled from behind the "walking man" to the opposite mountain wall, making the sound of autumn insects. And saw that the master and the apprentice were cutting dead branches and lighting a pile of firewood.I yelled twice more, waited for a while, and climbed up an acacia tree with dense branches and leaves while they were concentrating on plucking the feathers of a mountain bird. The "walkers" still sat quietly together, roasting the mountain fowl; poured white slurry from a leather bag, poured it on the shiny food, and took turns drinking it. Twenty minutes later, I sneaked back to where I was, and told Georgie, "They're both wine and meat, so fucking free!" He shaved his temples very carefully (with the sound of iron and stone rubbing against each other) , and said slowly and deeply: "How many years have we buddies been drunk together? Huh?" I hesitated for a while, but I couldn't answer. There seems to be no coming back.I had no choice but to turn my head and look at the acacia tree: "Who still cares about that?" Qiao Qi smiled strangely, and took out a flat steel cylinder that American soldiers often carry next to him from the interlayer of his clothes: "Here, some! Golden Gate Sorghum Let’s get rid of the cold!” We each took two sips and looked at each other in turn.The smell of alcohol rose between my brows, and I really wanted to tell him that if we were just friends without class, or just officers and subordinates instead of "buddies", maybe the smell of alcohol would be much milder. "It's really strong!" I turned to look at the acacia tree again, and said, "Fuck! They are really good at roasting birds. It smells so good that I can't help but drink. If I use it to drink—" Qiao Qi suddenly gestured to stop Stopped me: "Did you smell it? Really smelled it?" I nodded, and then my heart changed. Looking at the wine bottle in my hand and the tree on the opposite mountain, I felt something was wrong!Qiao Qi had already sprinted to the mud slope, and I followed him and looked down. There was only a pile of firewood left, and the "walking man" was gone.The wind blows from the back of our heads all the way to the acacia tree—the wind has already turned without anyone noticing. We extinguished the firewood, found traces of withered grass that had been trampled on the ground, and resumed the same silence as the night; with loneliness, despair, fear, and the half-roasted mountain fowl left by the fire by the "walker", chewing on the exhaustion and freedom blame, go on.
You may think: In the next trip, the "walking man" will no longer use singing to guide us.We have almost confirmed: the other party has definitely discovered the stalker behind it.The question is: in what mood will they see us? --enemy?wrong.Among them, they don't care about political positions at all. How can they have any concept of hostility?hunter?No, they must have known: no hunter accepts the humiliation of stalking another for prey.friend?What's more wrong, why should they dodge their friends?Unless—"Unless they don't want others to know the route they are walking." Qiao Qi said, "There are articles, there are articles! From the beginning, it said that they should follow secretly. I thought it was a language barrier and it was not easy to discuss. But seeing them hiding like this—” At this point, he began to rub the palm of the hand that caught the shit, “Do you think they will have a problem?” “What problem?” “Do you remember Don’t you remember that the secret service team cracked a stronghold of bandit espionage in Qidu or Badu Mountain in the first two years?” I nodded. "In your opinion, does the secret passage of 'Walking Man' have anything to do with the hidden spies?" People' are spreading news for 'them'—hey, it's not impossible! There must be concerns about this—" "That's why you are not allowed to carry firearms, and you are not allowed to hurt people. You must keep alive, put long lines, and catch big fish." Fish!" I rushed to say, not to be outdone, "It's reasonable to string together like this." "Yes, it's reasonable." We actually shook hands. But at dawn, we heard the loud and clear singing of the "walking man" again; the same tone, the same randomness.But in Georgie's mind and in my mind, that song definitely meant something else.We discussed for half an hour (or even longer), and there were two reasonable conclusions: 1. They deliberately pretended not to find us in order to relax our vigilance, and then set up a camp in any pass or dense forest by surprise. Traps, traps, or an artificial cave-in to catch us all; and two, their singing is actually a kind of alarm to notify suspicious accomplices (say, spies) hiding nearby. The other thing is that when I think about it later, I can't help clenching my fists, shocked by my audacity. From that day on, the "walking man" left some of what he ate every time, and left it by the fire or on the conspicuous big rock.Qiao Qi was determined not to eat. "Maybe it's poisonous! Things have come to this point, I think it's better to be careful." "But we ate that roasted bird, it's fine. Also, I ate half a Qiang from yesterday morning and a hare at night. It’s okay—” “You forgot that you said that day—’lure the enemy into the depths’, didn’t you?” He pulled out his bayonet for the first time, and slammed a piece of boar leg in front of us. Inserted, raised his arm and swung it far away, and then said to himself: "It's better not to eat." "Old Joe!" I stared at the boar meat covered in mud hungry and angrily, "You are an order What about it? Or--" "That's right!" He tensed his face and looked at me fixedly, "It's an order!" I snorted, walked to the wild boar, picked it up, took a big bite of the mud and meat, While chewing, I said: "Then I disobey! You go back and deal with me!" The mud clods were ground into sand grains and ash powder in my mouth (making a crunchy sound of iron and stone rubbing against each other).In fact, I'm also afraid of poisonous ones-there are bright red poisonous mushrooms everywhere, which shocks us who are keen.
Those of you who are in contact with data, sorting out data, and using data all day long, why do you believe in data?Indeed - as long as the information is reasonable, it is trustworthy.Is it true?Because people of your generation have reason to follow, there are no more shocking things.Disasters, struggles, war disasters, massacres... No matter how crazy things are, there can be vague reasons to explain them.I can reasonably explain the emotional disobedience; Jorge also reasonably signed me after the assignment.I can even reasonably explain why my stomach hurts after eating that piece of mountain pork: 1. I was poisoned; 2. I swallowed dirty mud; I fought back the pain in my stomach.In order to prevent Qiao Qi from noticing the cold sweat pouring out of my body, he stepped up his pace on purpose, yelling from time to time: "It's so hot, this kind of damn weather!" Occasionally, I would find some weeds that help digestion and chew them in my mouth Chewing, but to no avail.Many, many years later, I grew a beard and raised a large group of wild dogs that organized themselves into a class society on the farm. I saw them chewing weeds for digestive diseases on the nearby grasslands and quickly recovered; When I think back to that day, it suddenly dawns on me that what makes us sick is not social class, but our resistance to nature in order to consolidate class society—those we have delicately woven to make it reasonable. I was declared ill in the evening three days later.I was almost 500 meters behind Jorge.He ran back panting, holding my shoulders, his face glowing with excitement, and my vision was blurring.He yelled, "Dude! Got it! The Walking Man has settled down in the valley ahead, which seems to be a settlement. If there's anything wrong with them, they can definitely find something out there." "Well, "I opened my eyelids and felt the left cheek twitching, I wanted to laugh, "Then you have done a great job—" Then I fell backwards, he grabbed my waist, and I was spinning in a daze, Being carried on his shoulders, listening to him swearing in vicious words I have never heard before, I can only vaguely see his heavy heels trampling the grass between the stone crevices along the way.In the end, I listened carefully to a sentence: "You and your father are as stinking, what else can you do if you are a cunt except to be brave?" Yuan Yuan said: "You wait for me, I will go to their settlement to have a look." "I'm fine, I'm fine--" "I tell you, you. Give. Me. Stay. Wait." He Interrupting me, his tone was still stern, "You can't be better! But we still have a task, we can't just smash it! If you dare to take a step, don't blame me for not being a buddy." He came back again and approached I smiled wryly, "This is also an order—if I'm lucky, I'll find some herbs for you." I was alone in the cave.I became more and more awake, and I felt more and more cramps in my abdominal cavity.It took me a long time to touch the luggage and the kettle beside me, barely sitting up, licking my chapped lips while unscrewing the lid of the kettle.At this moment, I suddenly realized that I was not the only one in the cave—on the ground directly opposite me, in the air about twenty feet away and about two feet high, there was a pair of green eyes shining.My first thought was the "walking man" who poisoned me.Immediately, I drank, sprinkled the water bottle, pulled out the bayonet, and threw it at the center of the pair of eyes. In the next second, I stood up and passed out again. I felt that the opponent's sharp arrow had pierced a palm-sized hole in my abdomen.
If you are not forgetful, you may remember what I said at the beginning: memories grow and change over time.Let's say: I'm sitting comfortably in this easy chair under the blanket, and I'm crossing my fingers, holding my belly, and rubbing it gently.而我已经不记得它在三十年前曾经疼痛，痛得昏过去两次，甚至还以为自己中了箭。我以为自己中箭之后所发生的事却更荒唐，我这一辈子恐怕都弄不清楚究竟。what's going on?是什么道理？ 我可能做了一个梦。然而也可能不是梦（像干我们这种职务的人是不容许酣睡入梦而丧失警觉的），我甚至忘了自己有没有闭上或睁开眼睛。总而言之，当时的情况是乔奇回来了，我想和他说话，要水喝，告诉他“走路人”射了我一箭，我也飞给他一刀。我还想问他：聚落那边的情形如何？另一个“走路人”是不是像传说里那样，受到隆重的欢迎？欢迎会是不是在团团圆圆的月光下举行？有没有肥酒瘦牛？有没有美丽、害羞、娇怯的少女？或者，有没有出现匪谍的踪迹？发生状况了吗？开枪了吗？有炮击吗？看见我们的老婆了吗？还有我爹，我爹也披挂上阵了吗？他杀了多少士兵？还是陷入敌人口袋战术的重围里去了？ 可是我一句也问不出口，我发现进洞来的又不是乔奇，是我爹！他蹲跪在我的面前，一言不发，一脸乱胡子相互结着，他左右搬动我的脑袋，两手如冰一般冷。我叫他：“爹！”他打了我两耳光，还是不说话。我把中箭的部位指给他看，他也照我的手势摸了摸，那掌心传来的寒气使我浑身不自在，我开始发抖，并且清楚地意识到：我爹死了！他的鬼魂来看我了。我使尽全身的力气又喊他一声：“爹！”接着，好像，好像，好像我也死了。是的，我爹在我奋力喊叫的同时从腰间掏出一袋老家南院榆树下的泥土，塞在我嘴里，他用力塞着，直到一包泥土全滚进我的咽喉。我只觉得一身冰凉，哽咽着，死去。 如果那是一个梦，而我没死，那么很显然地，我爹托梦给我的道理是他已不在人世，尸骨俱寒了。我是决计不肯如此相信的——事实上去年乔奇从海外带信给我，说我爹还硬朗朗地活着，他又娶了妻子，那女人比他短命得多，而他，强悍一如往昔，只是缺钱用。 如果那不是梦，为什么当乔奇把我叫醒的时候竟然说：“好小子！睡这么一觉烧就退了。”当时我一把扯住他的领子：“我挨了一箭！是他——”我指指肚子和对面。 肚子已经不疼了，对面的岩壁钉着我的刺刀，刀尖插在一条雨伞节的脑袋上。
我猜想得到，你们以为我在编故事。我告诉你们的是记忆，记忆好像和编故事差不多，是吗？“你的故事比我的有意思。”乔奇和我眯着眼走出山洞时这样说道。当时天已经大亮，我放了一串带有泥土和青草气味的响屁，问他：“你的怎么样？”“什么也不怎么样。我一进山洼就跟丢了一个，他们狡猾得很，分头走不同的路。我只好盯着那个小的，他到聚落里和几个老太婆打过招呼，要了碗小米之类的东西……”“然后呢？”“去他妈的然后，那家伙掉头回来了！差一点和我头碰头。”乔奇扶扶我的肩，眉头一紧，又给我一个苦笑，“我再跟回来，嘿！另外那个老小子已经在西北角悬崖那边儿生了个火，两人喝起粥来啦！” 我们直接攀登山洞上方的岩壁，在一块马鞍形的云母石顶端占住制高点，一眼望去，悬崖就在三百公尺之外。两个“走路人”一个也不少，盘坐在崖角上，身边铺着一大堆翠绿翠绿的山芋叶。“他们又在搞什么鬼？”我说，瞄一眼乔奇的胡子茬，忽然觉得他也许在跟我装傻——前一天晚上我昏过去之后，一定是他回来给我吃了什么草药，治好我的肚子。然而他和我一样，对于施人的好处这一类的事只会在心里记一辈子，却总是羞于开口。“谁知道？”他说。“对了！还有——”我又放了一串响屁：“昨天你给我吃了什么玩意儿？”他仍旧头也不回地贴住望远镜筒，说：“你还要吃什么？我给你吃屎——欸！快看，那两个老小子一定有问题，我看他们是要打旗语。” 悬崖深不可测，对面的崖石看起来矮些，两崖之间起码也有三十公尺宽。环绕在四周的，尽是些童秃的巨石，不要说隐蔽，连根杂草也没有。“他们打旗语给谁看哪？”我顶回去，算是报复他跟我装傻到底，可是不能否认，我开始衷心地感谢乔奇——历时三分钟之久。三分钟之后，“走路人”在一眨眼蹦起身子，各自撑开两扇由山芋叶编成的大帆块，向我们藏身的云母石下方奔来。我们赶紧缩下脖子。他们却发出土狼的声，听那声音的方向，根本是冲着我们的！ 乔奇和我终于忍不住，豁地站起来，居高临下，握紧刺刀。然而我在霎时间愣住了，只觉得浑身的血液再度凝结成寒冰——“走路人”对我们挥舞双手，带动腋下的芋叶帆，露出两口白牙，笑着。那个老的，竟然生了一脸相互结的乱胡子！他们在下一瞬间冲向悬崖，然后像两只鹞鹰一样地在两山之间的回旋气流中盘桓片刻，最后降落到对面低崖的平顶岩上。于是他们看起来小了许多，而且让人分不清谁是师父，谁是徒弟了。
如果你们要问我：听说台湾山地有一种“走路人”，拥有神秘的能力，走一条不让外人知道的棱线通路，在各族之间传递讯息，没有思想也没有立场，是不是有这回事？ 我可以这么说：乔奇在“走路人”飞掉之后指天发誓，要再派一连人跟踪他们，要查明“走路人”的一切，要了解其中所有的秘密；他甚至要在那两个悬崖之间搭一座桥。结果他什么也没做，我们顺利地走完了各人的军旅生涯，其间再也没有一同出过任务，所以尔后再谈起往事来，便又像儿时一般亲近了。唯一不同的是，我单身经营这个农场（曾经跋涉到十五公里以外镇上的小戏院看《老莫的第二个春天》）；乔奇则结婚了，他留学国外的儿子把他接去养老，他给我的最后一封信上还提到：“你记不记得咱们吃半熟的猪肉那一次？我现在常吃，好不过的。” 然而在我的记忆里，乔奇根本没有吃那山猪肉，它也不是半熟的。也许你们该去问问他。无论你们相信谁的记忆，它都会在相信之后变成最真实的故事。