Chapter 4 The second part of Happy Homeland.1

25 Speaking of which, at such a time, the setting sun swells the dusk to the extreme, and when it comes out of the bowl of supper, the child trembles in shock, tears himself apart, and gives half of it to the rural society and others. related daily chores; the other half was given to the life legends fabricated by the parents. In the middle of that legend, Chrysanthemum died.Chrysanthemum is Shanhu's new wife.After Juzi's death, around the earliest houses in Zhangjiaying Village, the man's wolf howling sounded every night, which sounded really creepy.Therefore, as long as dusk comes quietly, the villagers will lock the gate early and gather in the courtyard or nest on the bedside.When the grandson goes to the toilet, he must pull his grandfather's belt.The girl walked down the village street holding her grandma's hand, sweat dripping down, and as time went by, mud was made all over the floor.

This year, it was a midsummer in the mid-1980s; the major social turmoil had passed, and minor disturbances continued one after another, such as land distribution, reforms, higher education, communes changed to townships, brigades changed to For the village, re-electing the village head, and so on, are disturbing the peace of the rural society day and night.But the baby doesn't care about that.That year he was five years old, and he was six years old.Dusk was boundless in his eyes.From then on, he always thought about that legend.Chrysanthemum died, and Shanhu cried and howled.However, one early morning in midsummer, a fire was kindled on the wheat field, leaving nothing but a handful of ashes.

That's the thing to say. Chrysanthemum was hanged to death.The story is very old, as old as a river from ancient times to the present, with twists and turns, nine twists and turns, and no end in sight. It seems that without Zhangjiayingzi, there would be this story.In fact, Zhangjiayingzi is the descendant of this story, and the villagers are also descendants of the story.Chrysanthemum died because of Shanhu's disobedience.They were married in March in the spring.Spring is in March, the peach is red and the plum is white, and the mountain ridges are covered with green and colorful.The northern plum blossoms, which have been blooming red and yellow since the end of winter, are gradually declining behind their thatched huts. However, the mountain grass thorns, winter jasmines, small red flowers that are tall and ordinary, and the common people are attracted by the plum blossoms. Wild white flowers bloom in full bloom.The breath of spring permeates these two lonely huts.When it was dark, the guests from far away Hexi gradually left. After a busy day, Shanhu and his wife sent the last batch of guests to Liangshang, and they were exhausted when they returned.Back home, they had sex at the door, and Ju Zi began to pack up the leftovers from the banquet, Shan Hu went to the house to make the bed and pull the quilt, preparing for their long-awaited wedding night.Chrysanthemum washed the dishes, cleaned the wine cup, put the things back in place, and came out of the kitchen, when she suddenly saw a Yan Sheng running out of the courtyard.I don't have livestock at home, maybe wolves.In order to prevent the wolves from howling hungry in front of and behind the house on the wedding night, she took a pot of leftovers and went out to the mountain ridge.She put a pot of leftovers under a persimmon tree on the mountain ridge, and returned to the house. The door was closed to the courtyard door and the door to the thatched house. The mountain tiger had already slept in the house.The bed was covered with a floral coverlet woven by her, and he slept peacefully with his clothes on the pillow she sewed, embroidered, and filled with herbs.He took care of their marriage for three winters and three summers, cultivated half of the fields, saved a few cylinders of grain, made a set of furniture, and built the three thatched huts.The house is filled with the choking smell of grass.He is very tired, he should have a good sleep.She took off his shoes and carefully unbuttoned his clothes.He slept soundly and drunk, and let her untie him casually.However, when she unbuttoned his shirt, she saw a woman's breast pocket tied on his mountain-like chest.The bag was brand new, sticking to his chest like a piece of white cloud hanging on the mountain ridge.She was startled, took the oil lamp, and carefully identified it.That pocket is indeed a woman's breast pocket.Women in the land of her hometown, as long as they have given birth to a baby, have to wear such a pocket to protect their suddenly swollen breasts and go to work in the field. A bold woman sits at the head of the village to eat in the hot summer. When she took off her blouse, she revealed such a breast pocket.This pocket is never separated from a woman's chest all year round.Only open one side of the pocket when nursing the baby.However, those pockets are mostly red, as red as a cloud.She once asked them, they said red is to avoid evil, the more red the better.Needless to say, this pocket was a token from another woman, a personal token.She didn't expect him to be such a man.Unexpectedly, he would dare to wear another woman's breast pocket while lying on the marriage bed.At first, she thought he was honest and loyal, extremely hardworking, upright and honest, but it turned out that he was a corrupt man!Like those men who chased her in the village, he loves to wear women's breast pockets and hide women's hairpins; sometimes, he also holds women's earrings in his mouth like candy.Then she thought of death and the filth of the world, like the flood water of the Yellow River when it is raining.The water was thick and thick, and the waves were long, sweeping away the dust, firewood, pigs and sheep, and all kinds of dirt on the land.

Shan Hu and his group called the tiger beam, and the other mountain beam one hundred and eighty miles away was called the leopard beam.His wife belongs to Leopard Liangzi.It is said that Leopard Liangzi's people were immigrants from the Yellow River.Year after year, the Yellow River diverted its course and flooded, flooding houses this year and flooding crops next year, and people lived in famine all year round.Later, an old man gritted his teeth and took charge of his family. He left his hometown, went up the river, chose a high place to settle down, and set up a camp on Baoziliang, cultivated and multiplied, and finally became a village again.

Shanhu is a local aborigine, whose family lives deep in the mountains and has been hunting for generations.He has two brothers. The elder brother can climb mountains and walk cliffs, and his marksmanship is excellent.One night, his old father suddenly had a dream, dreaming that the forest was on fire, and the wind helped the fire, and all the wild animals fled after hearing the fire. In the huge forest, not even a hare and sparrow were left behind.As a result, a family of hunters starved to death on the mountain.After waking up from the dream, the old man was sweating. Although the dream was a lie, the old man still learned from the painful experience. He took dry food and straw sandals and walked for three months and seven days in this vast mountain. He decided to send his second son, Shanhu, to this kind of land, and he and his eldest son went back to the original place to hunt, in case one day, the mountain people would rise up and the beasts would go away, so he could retreat to the second son's field to make a living.

People from Zhangjiaying will sing a song from the age of three: Tiger beams are tall and tall, The branches and leaves are in the sky; Tiger beams are long and long, Head east and west can not look; Tiger beam soil is thick and thick, The grain of wheat looks like a stone; Tiger Liangzi is sweet and sweet, Three years of sweetness in one mouthful. The man on the beam is strong and strong, One foot can flatten loess beams; The girl on the beam is pure and pretty, People can't see her smile... That night, the mountain tiger slept like a wind and rain, and every breath was a breeze.His wife was crying tears beside him, and the tears trickled down on his chest, soaking the breast pocket.Another woman's pocket.The world outside the house was unusually quiet, without the howling of wolves that always woke me up at night.The occasional chirping of a nightingale came from far away, squeezed into the room through the crack of the door, and rang in her ears one by one, as if something was calling her in the quiet night.She gritted her teeth and suppressed the crying into a thin air current, for fear of waking him up from his sound sleep.But on the other hand, she hoped that he would wake up suddenly and listen to her love for him.

However, he snores loudly.Another woman's breast pocket was shaking on his chest.It looks like she fell asleep and never wants to wake up again.Reluctantly, she walked out of the house.The sky was full of moon and stars, and the land was light. She was alone under the vast sky for a while, and walked through every field he cultivated.Then, he came back and stood in front of his bed for a long time, then resolutely picked up a piece of hemp rope and went up to the beam.And finally died. 26 Dusk was finally over. Zhangjiayingzi fell into the silence of twilight.The child followed his grandmother, took his yellow, and chased the last scene of bright colors before night, and jumped back from the village. Past in the grass.Sometimes a bird can wade out, sometimes a big grasshopper that "kicks down the mountain" can wade out, and sometimes an empty space can wade out.When encountering a big rock, he would jump over it without going around or bending.He knew that the grass and stones sometimes stretched out his legs and tripped him, but he just wanted to wade and jump over the grass and stones, shouting as he ran, "Calling! It's threshing!" "Calling! Threshing wheat!" His call was like a stream squeezed out of a mountain crevice, flowing clear and fierce in the village.This is Mai Ji, and the villagers are so busy that they can't find their own arms and legs.The fields have been divided for a few years, and the responsibility lies with the family. Whether the harvest is good or bad, whether the food is sufficient or not, it is all a matter of self-management.In such years and months, the newly acquired land has extremely deep feelings with the villagers.If you sow melons, you will reap melons, and if you sow beans, you will reap beans. Who would let their fields lose 10% of their harvest?What crowds the village streets is the smell of scorched wheat.The fallen grains are half-full in the footprints of cattle and sheep.If he couldn't touch the grass or stones, the child would look for the cow's foot nest and step on it. The wheat grains squirmed on the ground like insects through the thin soles of his shoes.He twisted the soles of his feet vigorously, thinking that the wheat grains had been broken, so he jumped into another cow's foot nest. His grandmother told him to slow down—slower—but he went faster instead, wishing he could come from the village. Flying will rise in the street.When he reached his door, he flew over, broke in, and shouted loudly:

"Call!" "Threshing wheat!" "The machine is in a hurry!" Parents are telling the stories they wrote.The 320,000-word manuscript, titled "Happy Homeland" by them, stood upright on a stool, nearly a foot thick, and was nurtured and loved like their children.One night three years ago, they celebrated the birthday of their two-year-old child. They lay quietly on the same bed, leaning on each other's arms, and the child was sleeping beside them. He told Shanhu and his wife Ups and downs, kindness and resentment.She was silent for a while.He thought she was asleep, but she held his head in her arms across the child and said:

"Chrysanthemum is dead?" He said, "Dead." "End of the story?" "Only half." "Write it out." "What are you writing?" "This story." It was in the summer when she said it, and it took her a whole season to listen to his narrative on and off.After the hot summer, the land ushered in the desolation of autumn.When the husband and wife went to teach in Laojun Temple, fragments of "Happy Homeland" were scattered everywhere on the side of the dirt road on the mountain ridge, in the flowing water of the ditch and stream, and on the thorns on the cliff.There were no flocks of sheep grazing, nor saplings of crops.What should be harvested is harvested, but what is planted has not yet sprouted.The sky above the mountain ridge is empty. From Zhangjiaying to Laojunmiao Primary School, you have to pass through a river ditch. The river has been noisy with the river channel all summer. It has been enough and bored. Now it has fallen and become shallower.Without the green and tender growth, the aquatic plants in summer are also withering day by day.On beams, hillsides, elms, tung trees, pagoda trees in elementary schools, and other domestic trees in the north, the leaves, large and small, are bored with fruit on the branches, and they begin to fall one by one.There was a nest of swallows in the temple of the elementary school, and I don't know when they left and went south.Without the hustle and bustle of the river, without the greenness of the grass and trees, without the luxuriance of the summer, they just walked on desolately, teaching in elementary school classrooms, and eating at Zhangjiaying's house.Coming and going on a section of dirt road on the mountain ridge, coming and going in "Happy Homeland".It's finally late autumn.

She said, "Tianyuan, write it down." He said, "Write "Happy Homeland"?" "We can't live our lives like this," she said. He said, "So what if it's written?" "Anyway," she said. He said, "Write it, I will write it." She said: "You don't need to remember other housework and other troubles." This began a long period of farming in life.When it's time to harvest, needless to say, people's hearts are filled with joy.For three years, no one in Zhangjiaying knew what they were cultivating day and night except for the children and the old mother.No one knew that they were writing a novel called "Merry Homeland".The child rushed into the courtyard.

"Is there electricity?" "The lights on the field are on, illuminating the whole world, and the clams and mosquitoes are flying under the lights." I went to threshing wheat, and Mr. Zhang said that you should read the manuscript at home and pick out the typos and white characters thoroughly. Don't let others laugh at us as country talents.The Xinhua dictionary is on the bedside. This year's Zhangjiayingzi already has a breath of modern civilization.Although the educated youth room in Taizidi has been so degraded that it leaks like a pillar of rain, there is no news from the outside world to boast about from the educated youth in that room.No matter how close you look from a distance, it is nothing more than two rows of mud houses.So, from the outside of the mountain ridge, two wires climbed in with difficulty and twists and turns, causing several elderly people in the village who had never been in the county town to cry on the mountain ridge on the eve of the power supply on New Year's Eve.There is also a daughter-in-law who loves to sing. Under the lights of the village head, she sang an ancient opera frantically in the middle of the night, almost biting Hua Mulan and Mu Guiying to death, but it was used on the threshing machine last year.In the outside world, such as towns and the outskirts of the county seat, wheat threshing machines have been used for more than ten years, and the village on Liangshang only thought of buying one.The machine was pulled back with a bullock cart and unloaded on the field, but the land was divided, and the machine was subjected to its fate of wind and rain.It was only last year that the government issued an order to force all villages to install wheat threshing machines. Only then did Zhangjiaying sell three old trees and buy back a motor, making the primitive village a big step towards mechanical civilization. In the night outside, the heat is cool, and the dry smell of wheat exudes.Wheat threshing in the village is a fair lottery, and Mr. Zhang's family is in line tonight and next night.Now, Teacher Zhang is going to pick up the wheat sheaves from the field to the wheat field in Taizidi.The child followed him, and he saw many happy scenes in his father's heart. The provincial publishing house said that no matter what, "Happy Homeland" would be sent to the publishing house by the end of March for printing.A book is about to be published.This should be such a big deal, thinking about it as a father, I really can't believe it. I and Yamei just recorded the legend in a true, detailed and original way.People say that "Happy Homeland" is the Chinese version of "Roots", and the author is Harry from China. Mr. Zhang and his wife don't know what kind of American novel "Roots" is and who Harry is.But they know that original suanzi original bun, original soup and original water are also good novels. It doesn't matter whether the novel is good or not, but this "Happy Homeland" makes the life in this country very idyllic, and even Yamei's frequent thoughts of Zhengzhou have faded a little.The father and younger brother that she talked about day and night gradually disappeared from her mouth.Because she was one of the few educated youths who settled in the area, the county once wanted to transfer her to the county education bureau.Not to mention not having to deal with chalk every day, to be a schoolteacher in the countryside, at least change the environment, there is an electric light hanging in the room, and you can see several buildings when you go out, but she resolutely refused. "I don't want to leave home. I want to transfer Tianyuan too." Teacher Zhang said that you would like to go, it is a county after all.She said that she was writing "Happy Homeland", how could I leave Zhangjiayingzi. In essence, it might not be her family and children that left her behind, but perhaps "Happy Homeland".Every night he sat under the lamp, wrote a thousand words, a few pages of manuscript paper, and then gave her careful review, and then scribbled and corrected.When he was writing the next night, she copied the manuscript from the night before.As for the baby, his grandmother led him to Tinggu in the village, and then he came back and lay on the bed, watching them and Happy Homeland half asleep. He said: "I'm really afraid that we will write a story in vain." She said: "It's not in vain, anyway, I feel that life is rich." She poured him a glass of boiling water, or asked him, do you still write?He said to write for a while.She went to the kitchen, lit the oil lamp, lit the fire, dug out half a bowl of flour, rolled out a piece of noodles, cooked a bowl of supper, and served it in front of him.Her virtuousness and courtesy moved him endlessly.After eating, he washed it off by himself, and when she came back, she had already crawled into the bed, warming the cold quilt with an overflowing heat.He smiled shyly, and got under the quilt she had pushed back, and the couple's emotions burned like fire, baking the house to the ground.The warmth of the husband and wife, at this time, in the cracks of the fire, is like a cool breeze in this season, and like the heating in a snowy day, flowing out a thin joy, under the bed, inside and outside the house, sowing the green mountains and green waters of spring.At that time, the children who pretended to be asleep were terrified, and huddled tightly beside them or at their feet, not daring to make the slightest sound.When he really fell asleep, what he saw was the figure of Chrysanthemum hanged on the beam, like a thick black pillar, hanging in front of his eyes, dangling back and forth.Sometimes, when Chrysanthemum came, her cold toes would step on his hot nose, and the cries of the mountain tiger would undulate the village street into a lake. 27 When Shan Hu woke up, his clothes were neatly put aside, and the bed beside him was as empty as the sky.He rubbed his sleepy eyes, and the sun had silently stepped onto the window sill.He started to get up and get dressed, and when he saw that the pocket he had prepared for his wife was still tied to his chest, he regretted not giving it to his wife last night.According to the customs of their aboriginal hunters, on the wedding night, a man has to take a chung from himself and give it to his wife before he can have sex.After the intercourse, the woman will stain the pocket with the menstrual blood of a virgin, and hang the pocket on the window in the future to tell passers-by that she is pure.When returning to her natal home, she will bring the blood bag to her parents. If the daughter does not have such a blood bag, or if the bag is a white cloud without a drop of red plum, it means that your daughter is corrupt and unfaithful, and all the hunters are therefore Much will be said about this daughter. Shanhu went out to find Juzi.The scenery outside is beyond description.There is not even a single speck of dust in the sunlight. Standing on this beam, you can see the movement of that mountain beam.The red flowers and stones among the grass nests show their faces from time to time as they sway.The sparrows flew in the sky little by little, as if they were disturbed by something, they kept singing on the mountain ridge.A large flock of croaking crows huddled together on the persimmon tree on the top of the beam, and the noisy noise made the wild tiger Liangzi suddenly lively. The fields are connected one by one, and the crops are shiny green, which is the same color as the sky.The mountain tiger walked in this color, and when he was almost all over the mountain ridges and fields, the crows on the persimmon trees on the top of the ridge suddenly fell silent, and the whole mountain range became silent.The sudden heavy silence made him stop abruptly, looked around, and called out a chrysanthemum——, when he opened his mouth, his mouth was immediately choked by the fragrance.The sun shone on his lips, like firelight stuck to them.What did she do?He licked his lips with his tongue, swallowed the sunlight, rolled his hands around his mouth, and called the woman's name again.Suddenly startled, he raised his head to look at the beam, then screamed wildly and ran under the persimmon tree.Chrysanthemum died on a persimmon tree. The moon came out, and the tender light illuminated the streets and alleys of Zhangjiayingzi. At this time, it seemed that under every tree, there was a secret, a story.The stories and secrets were washed into a pale color by the moonlight, making creaking sounds in the shadow of the trees.With frightened curiosity, the child guesses from tree to tree its hidden secrets, and weaves his own story.However, no matter what the beginning or the end of the story, it is always a trance to see Juzi's thin face.In the moonlight under the tree looms.The cries of the mountain tiger came from the very far mountain ridge, passed through the moonlight, passed through the village, and arrived under the tree imagined by the child. Icicles, condensed in the moonlight under the tree.After further exploration, he really saw Shan Hu hugging Chrysanthemum's legs, like holding two chestnut sticks that would not bend.When the chrysanthemum seeds were unloaded from the persimmon tree, she refused to lie on Shanhu's shoulders, close her angry eyes, close her crying mouth, and follow Shanhu back to her bridal chamber. go.So, Shanhu hugged her frozen body like a piece of dry wood, and walked up and down the fields he plowed every night, back and forth... The child was frightened, and turned back to look for his grandmother. The old man was talking to the woman he met in the back; Huang Huang, who was looking for a companion, didn't know where it got into, so he hurriedly caught up with his father and pulled him away. Hand said, I'm afraid. "What are you afraid of?" "Shadow." "What do you see?" Of course he wouldn't tell his secret easily, and he wouldn't tell what he had heard about "Merry Homeland."He just walked silently, took Teacher Zhang's hand, and walked to the platform.Go to the wheat field.Walk under the brilliant light, and drive away the legend of fear for him by the brightness of the light.Then, sink into your own country world, catch moths under the light, pick crickets in the wheat pile, or stand quietly, comparing the electric light or the moonlight, which one is brighter. The wheat field is just to the east of Taizidi, not square or round, it looks like a land.This is the wheat field of Haiwaer's family, and the terrace land is the responsibility field assigned to his family.Speaking of which, Taizidi is a piece of fertile land in the village, flat and fertile, and close to the village.When dividing the land, the ancient method of drawing lots was used, and it may not be possible to distribute it to his family, but Yamei, the mother, must plant this land.Teacher Zhang said, how can I plant it for you if you want it.Yamei went to the captain.The captain also said, how can you plant it if you want it.Dividing land is not distributing wheat and sorghum, it is distributing the lives of farmers. Yamei said, "But I want to plant this one." The team leader said: "Everyone in the village wants to grow this piece." Yamei said, "It's okay to give my family an acre less land." The team leader said: "Actually, this place is close to the village, but instead it suffers from cattle and sheep." Yamei said, "I know this land is a pig and dog farm." The captain said, "Just because this place reminds you of your time as an educated youth?" Yamei didn't say a word, the captain said that you are not from our country after all, so if you want to plant it, you can plant it. On the day of the lottery, you pick the smallest and smallest lottery, and I will write it on the table.That day Yamei picked the smallest lot and planted this piece of land.From this, it can be imagined that she has been a real farmer after going to the countryside for more than ten years. No matter what the situation is, she cares very much about the quality of the land.It is no longer like being an educated youth, who still has the state of mind of urban people in every move, and has no emotion for the land in the final analysis.The land was allocated the first year, and corn was planted after wheat, and she said that we should sow some soybeans.Mr. Zhang said that in these types of places, set broadcasting is never practiced.She said that the land is ours, we can set up the broadcast if we want, and don't care about others.When I was in junior high school, I talked about the harvest of set broadcasting in my nature class.Faced with the naive and stubborn nature of her urbanites, Teacher Zhang sometimes felt dumbfounded.However, he was still deeply excited about her concern for the crops.At least, for farmers, for rural society, for plowing and raking, she is no longer standing by and watching the fire from the other side.He told her that it's not impossible to interplant, but the beans are not as drought-resistant as the corn, and this mountain sloping land, looking up to the sky to eat grain, if there is trouble, the soybeans will not be harvested, and the corn will be harvested much less. So she hooked her head and said that I went back to Zhengzhou once every two years and became a farmer.I always want to bring some rare specialties to the city.Bringing some soybeans back home, and having the father make bean cakes, or cook soybean porridge, which is not seen in the city, is also considered a filial piety for children.Teacher Zhang didn't say anything more, and set aside half an acre of land alone, and planted soybeans in autumn.As a result, there was a severe drought for half a year, and only one-third of the corn harvest was achieved.In order to keep the soybean harvest, he came back from school, relying on the land to be close to the village, and picked loads of water from the well to water the beans. After a season, a thick layer of calluses was hard to wear on his right shoulder.At this time, she was doubly moved, touched the thick calluses on his shoulders, hugged him, as if on a bed, resting on a shoulder pole or a hoe or something else, basking in the warm sunlight, lying for a long time I can't move.Afterwards, she stroked his disheveled hair with her hand, and slightly closed her eyes, as if she had fallen asleep. "It turns out that there is such happiness in the countryside." She said. He opened his eyes and looked at the children who were staring at them. "The pleasures of the country are not the same as the pleasures of the city." She said: "It's better in the countryside than it is." He said, "I'm afraid you're tired of Yamei in the country." She said, "No, I am your wife and the mother of your child." He said, "I'm still a teacher at Laojunmiao Primary School." She said: "That's secondary. What I like more is our family, which is nondescript. It is neither a small life in the city nor an authentic farmer in the countryside. It is like a doll in rotten clothes." 28 Walking on the village street, people say that Mr. Zhang, marrying a city wife is better than a country one. The child is so old, she is a city person, she can talk and laugh, and you have to rely on yourself to do the work. It's that kind of thing that can't be caught, the body is important. He was suspicious: "What's wrong?" He didn't smile, but said admonishingly: "That kind of thing happens once every half a month, that's fine." He was even more suspicious: "What's the matter?" People said: "As for men and women, you and Yamei are on the platform." He smiled in relief and said nothing. Sometimes, when Yamei was walking at the head of the village with her baby, a neighbor's sister-in-law would suddenly come out of a door, pull her to the side of the road, and declare, Yamei, my sister-in-law wants to ask you One thing, you must not be offended.She said you can ask, it's not strange.But they didn't ask her right away, they just said that we country women are vulgar, and they were afraid that you would get angry if they said it, and they would feel bad for you and Teacher Zhang if they didn't.After repeated explanations like this, and she also repeatedly declared that she would never be angry, the sister-in-law burst out: "Are you city women obsessed with that sort of thing?" "whats the matter?" "Male and female matters." "Why did you ask this?" "Someone saw you and Tian Yuan sleeping on the table during the day, and that's the one in front of the children. You have to remember Tian Yuan's body, he has to farm and teach." After hearing such words, she pulled the baby and laughed loudly. On the one hand, she felt that the country women were rude, and on the other hand, she felt that she really cared about Tian Yuan's body.Calculating back and forth, it has been more than ten years since I came to Zhangjiaying. At the beginning, I still hated such wild things, it was so vulgar that I couldn't bear it.But today, she has gotten used to it, and not only does she not feel any discomfort, but on the contrary, she feels extremely happy when breathing in the atmosphere of the rural masses.This state of mind comes from the complete despair of returning to the city and the digestion of the atmosphere of rural life.In other words, she has completely regarded herself as a member of the country; completely, melted by a kind of rural family warmth.Lying on the bed at night, she actually said Tianyuan, that day was really regrettable, it would be better to have a husband and wife in the bean field and see what it's like in broad daylight, so as not to make me bear such a scapegoat today. The wild jujube tree on the ground is as tall as half a person, and it is gray-black in the moonlight, and the ball-like wild jujubes emit a blue light in the dark gray.The cool breeze at night in summer blows wild jujube trees back and forth.The baby and the grasshopper were at a stalemate.If he didn't leave, the grasshopper died without a sound.He suspected that the grasshopper was on the tallest jujube thorn in front of him.He stared at the jujube tree firmly.After staring at it for a long time, the jujube tree suddenly swayed in the wind and turned into a black ball, as if a soul was approaching him.Suddenly, a tremor peculiar to a six-year-old child began to tremble all over his body. He opened his mouth and took a step back urgently. He only looked back at the sound, and with the help of the lights on the wheat field and the figure of his father walking not far away, he defeated himself and his fear. Isn't it just a jujube tree?He said to himself, but he could vaguely see that his mother was also standing under the light on the wheat field.He wanted to prove it, but he didn't dare to look back, for fear that the grasshopper would jump from one jujube thorn to another in the blink of an eye.That would be a waste of all previous work, but when he thought of his mother, he thought of that legend again.The mother always took the stack of legends and read them non-stop, and she also read them aloud, as if they were stories specially read to children.After reading a chapter, she closed the manuscript paper and discussed it with her father. Then, her father used a red pen to draw circles on the manuscript paper, and painted them over, making the paper full of bright red with clouds all over the day.Finally, at night, the moonlight swam across the window, making a loud noise like a strand of hair blowing in the wind.He watched the sound of the moonlight fluttering in the bed, but they thought he had fallen asleep. His father picked up the manuscript he had just written and read aloud to his mother. He read: That night, the wind was high and the moon was dark, the mountain ridges were blurred, and the forest in the distance was an ink color, which looked like an endless lake of black water.There is also a large field he has plowed, and the crops make a weird sound from time to time at night, although it is subtle, it is really scary.Shanhu just sat on the ridge, looking at the blackness of the mountains and listening to the whispers of the fields.He just sat on the cold mountain ridge, holding Juzi's body, silently waiting to die, like waiting for the dead Juzi to wake up.He put his hand on Chrysanthemum's face, and stroked her forehead. Her face was as cold as green ice that had been frozen for three winters, sucking all the heat from his hand.The night was too quiet.The calls of crickets are loud and monotonous on the ridge under the feet; the river under the mountain ridge is rushing, and it seems that a never-before-seen torrent is brewing.Those voices were also very cold, crowded into the mountain tiger's ears with dripping moisture.When Shanhu's hand touched Juzi's protruding tongue, he shuddered and said, Juzi, put your tongue back in your mouth. Juzi remained silent, so he unbuttoned his clothes and held Juzi's face on his chest. onto the pocket that hadn't reached Chrysanthemum's chest.He was warm, warm, from the middle of the night until the east turned white, and he kept chanting, saying that you have such a hard life, Juzi, you committed suicide after only 19 years of life, it was me who treated you Is it not good?Where did I treat you badly?In order to marry you, I began to cultivate wasteland day and night three years ago, and opened a total of ninety-nine acres; in order to marry you, I prepared ninety-nine pieces of furniture, large and small; in order to marry you, I carried horses to your house Ninety-eight dowry gifts, and this breast pocket, plus ninety-nine pieces; for this small breast pocket, I, a man, sewed nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces by myself. Nine needles, but before I put it on your chest, you go before me.for what?You cruel chrysanthemum... he said.Shanhu talked to himself like this, and at dawn, Juzi retracted her tongue and finally closed her eyes, as if she was asleep. Speaking of which, the old hunter chose this beam, so he naturally had to choose a wife for his son, so that his son could have a family and a business on the tiger beam, and he could farm with peace of mind.The old hunter carried his shotgun and led his son through the forest, across the river, and went straight south.I heard that there is a leopard beam among the mountains in the south, where many immigrants who moved from the Yellow River lived.It is said that the women there grow round and strong because they eat the muddy water of the Yellow River, and their skin is white and tender because they eat the carp of the Yellow River;And because of the immigration, they are more willing to marry the aborigines in order to take root in the local area as soon as possible.The father and son camped at night and traveled day and night. They walked for 3721 days, crossed 9981 mountain ridges, and went around 7749 mountain bends before finally finding the beam.It turns out that Leopard Liang is not rich, the forest is not deep, the trees are not high, and the trees are not thick.Because of the long-term fear of floods, the immigrants choose to live in high places, and most of them live on some mountain tops and ridges.With the howling north wind in winter and the scorching sun in summer, the years are no more leisurely than the riverside, and there is no need to worry about floods anymore.It was dusk when they arrived at the beam, and they lived in a family in a grass hermitage.There were two elderly people living with their granddaughters, and their son and daughter-in-law were all drowned by the yellow flood.At that time, the granddaughter went up to the mountain to cut firewood before returning, and the two elders were planting vegetables at the door. They went to talk for a while and asked for some water, and the sun was going to end in the west, so they had to stay.The old man cooked mung bean soup for their father and son, saying that the passers-by had worked hard, and the mung bean soup cleared the heat and relieved the fire. When they talked about family affairs while drinking the soup, they realized that there were many wild wolves here.When the day is fine, wolves howl at night. Whoever owns a pig or a sheep can attract hundreds of yellow wolves, and as few as three or five.Therefore, every household cannot raise cattle or farm cattle, and they are all afraid of wolves.于是，猎人父子，便应记在心，夜间装好火药，将枪靠在门后。 说老人家孙女拾柴回来较晚，进门时见家中有陌生客人。头一低进屋去了，对猎人的儿子并不在意。只是夜饭已过，睡至夜半，先听到日常的狼叫，后听到一声枪响，再听到狼群四逃的疾速之音，心里便有些警觉起来。第二天早早起床，便看见院内扔着一条死狼，枪眼透了脑儿，一股铁砂从左眼进去，由右眼出来。这下孙女惊了，四处张扬家里住了一位神射。闹得天刚亮就有许多村人来这看这神射猎人。 及至猎人和他的儿子起床，人们便都惊了，原来打死野狼的不是老猎人，而是他的儿子，是年儿子才刚满十九。 这是村中打死的第一只黄狼。 然而，狼灾来了。这天日落时分。忽然有四队狼群从四个方向拥来，把几十户人家团团围定，狼嚎声如洪水泛滥，涛涛浪浪漫滚在山上山下，一时间移民惊得怨天尤人，家家闭门关窗，无不埋怨猎人多事。可猎人父子，对此不惊不诈，似乎早有所料，一面通知村落人家，大人小孩不要出门走动；一面离开房舍，躲到一个隐处，朝东面、南面的两群黄狼察看一阵，找到两队狼群中的两个头狼，父子一齐开枪，砰砰两声，两队狼群便失了头羊的羊群样四散开来。之后，父子又躲躲闪闪，移至村落西北，爬上一棵老树，又找到两队狼群的两只头狼，射了两枪，这狼群便狂叫起来，然却并不往村落靠拢。如此三番五次，每天都有狼群在黄昏时分朝村子扑来，每天村落人家都足不出门，只有猎人父子守在村头。先是父子二人同守一处，后来狼群日渐多了，扑来的次数日渐勤了，二人就分开守村，一东一西，或一南一北，这样整整达半月之久，每天都要打死头狼。继而，狼群渐次少了。再往后，三朝五日才会有一群复仇的黄狼扑来，到了村口，又不敢真的扑进村庄，只是在村外转悠怪叫。再往后去，十天半月没有一群狼来。可是，忽然有天夜里，没有听到一声狼叫，早上起床，人们发现夜间开始下的大雨逐渐少了，村落里并没有积存多少雨水，稍高的路面都还露在外面。就在那稍高之处，家纳凉吃饭的门口石上，都有一只两只黄狼站着卧着，它们不吼不叫，只睁着深蓝黝黝的眼睛，盯着各家大门。谁也不知它们是什么时候摸进了村子。谁也不知到底有多少黄狼。谁也不知这偌大的狼群静悄悄溜进村落，要给人们带来什么样的灾难。这个时候的猎人父子，从床上起来，趴在墙头看着，又对视一眼。 儿子说：“怎么办？” 老猎人说：“它们要走了，可又不肯轻易地走，总要讨点血的。”这样，父子就在院里对视沉默，直至雨水最后完全消停下来，只是偶尔从天空掉下迟来的几粒雨滴。老猎人对他的儿子说，没别的办法了，便很从容地走进灶房，手起刀落，砍掉了自己勾动枪机的食指。父亲出来时，右手鲜血淋淋，散发着一股热腥的气息，左手拿着他的右手食指，看着他的儿子。时间已经是日出以后，村落上空一尘不染，被一夜雨水洗涤成冰洁的玉色，深绿的玛瑙样闪着光泽。村外四边的天空，则呈出红铜白银的合光。合光下潮湿的土地上，洁净的森林里，茂盛的野草中，到处都散发着浓烈的清新之气和阵阵的凉意。父亲那血腥的气息，在这清新里如同突然汇入的一股河水，将那些气息的平稳、闲适，冲得踉踉跄跄，站不稳脚跟。儿子望着父亲那张坚毅的脸，学着父亲的样子，决然走进了人家的灶房。 儿子举起刀时，听见父亲在院里猛唤：“左手食指。” 然后是手起刀落和涌流的一股血气。 老猎人左手用盘子端着父子二人的指头，举着右手，明证着他们砍掉的正是勾枪机的右手食指，大开院门，朝村中央的一只老狼走去。从食指的断口涌出的鲜血，在日光中红红亮亮，如同半空中的一个血泉。整个村落的街街巷巷，都汩汩潺氵爰着他们父子的血气，仿佛整个村落都沉进了一个红色的湖中。卧着、站着的狼们，嗅到这股血气，都朝村子中央拥来，黄爽爽一片站着，如同茫茫的重山峻岭，一只只狼眼，好似重山峻岭中幽深的一洞洞井口。那只小牛一样大的老狼站了起来。老猎人把盘中的指头放在它的面前。那两段手指呈出苍白的云色，断处倒还是艳艳的水红，极如两截白皮红心的萝卜。老狼朝前走了一步，看看那两截指头，又把目光搁在猎人的胸上，老猎人这时回望一眼，他的儿子和几个胆大的小伙，扛着几十只被打死的黄狼，走过来放在老狼面前，然后退了回去。 那一刻村子静极，冷丁儿从树上滴落的雨粒，轰然炸响在村子中央。就那么静了一会儿，老狼过来在盘上对那手指辨认一会儿，没有认出其中一个是左手指头以后，才衔了那两段指头，尾巴在空中摆动一下，又过来数十只大个黄狼，从地上背起了那十余只同类。老猎人终于松了一口气。 老狼衔着那两节断指慢慢朝村外走去。 背了同类尸体的大个狼们仍跟在它的身后。 狼群走了，千余只黄狼举家北去，开始了往深山移民的大迁徙。村人们都爬在树上、墙上眼看着狼们离开了豹子梁。从此豹子梁再也没有了狼灾，人们过起了能够养鸡、养猪、饲牛饲羊的日常生活。在黄狼大迁徙以后，村人们在村中没有散开。早知这父子来意的族长老人，集中了整个梁上十六岁以上的姑娘，任他们父子挑选。老猎人看上了老族长最小的女儿，她又健壮，又漂亮，是年二十二岁，大儿子三岁，娶回去正可以下田劳作，生儿育女。老族长说你们为豹子梁上除了一患，就领她去吧。可是猎人的儿子却不同意，他看上了房东老人的孙女。老猎人说她才十六，儿子说我愿等她三年再婚。为了什么呢？老猎人问他的儿子。儿子说她虽然十六，长得瘦弱，也没有族长的女儿漂亮，可我们父子分守村口的那些夜里，都是她陪伴于我；就连我们断指还狼，也是她替我砍掉了她的一个指头。 直至此时，老猎人才看见自己的儿子，十个指头完整无缺。豹子梁的老族长和他的村人们，也才发现躲在他们身后那十六岁的女子，左手食指正血流如注地昏死在地上。 那十六岁的女子，就是新婚死去的菊子；那猎人的儿子，就是老虎梁人的早祖山虎。 29 菊子死了，她的尸体又瘦又小，如同活人一样终日伴着山虎。可她的魂儿却大得出奇，薄的出奇，呈出浅紫淡黑，如同一张剪纸样，轻飘飘的无处不在。每天黄昏，便来到孩娃儿面前，同孩娃儿说话游戏。尽管孩娃儿总是对那剪纸惧怕十分，然那剪纸却并不真的恐吓了孩娃儿，无非在他面前一闪一现，勾起他一些故事罢了。 孩娃儿是果真抓了一只蝈蝈。那蝈蝈也果真藏在魂影似的野枣刺的一片叶下。它终于败在孩娃儿静默的僵持，耐不得寂寞地叫了一声，也仅仅是清了一下嗓子，孩娃儿便发现它卧的那片枣叶，在月光中比别的叶子晃动得厉害。孩娃儿是顺着枣叶晃动的声音，捉到了这只黄胖的蝈蝈。也恰在这时，麦场上传来了悠长别调的叫声： “强强——” “强强——” 果然是母亲在叫。她从家里出来了。母亲毕竟是都市的人，她的叫唤舒缓清丽，像从嘴里吐出一条井水浸过的长带，没有一点生涩。不像张家营人那样，说话斩钉截铁，硬冷结实，仿佛是朝外吐着石头。听母亲说话，天大的事情，与她都可商量。而听村人说话，却钉铆得很哩，不见有再说的余地。然而，许多时候，母亲也是说一不二的。尤其从生性劳碌的父亲眼中去看，母亲倒不失为一位柔中有刚的女中豪杰。不能纵然地说，母亲她完全没有阴郁的一面，但自彻底身嫁于父亲以后，懊悔过去，悲叹未来之类的情况，确实少有。父亲爱看那些迟到半月的报纸副刊，称赞某一篇文章中的某一段落不错。母亲看了，却断然否认，说： “这难道就比你写得好吗？” 父亲说：“不能这样比的。” 母亲将报纸扔在一边：“你总是瞧不起自己。” 父亲往往为乡村时事所虑，甚或对当今乡土社会的一些名堂持否定态度。而母亲虽然来自于省会的天地之中，却从不对这些叹息，甚至让人觉得她是漠不关心，而她关心的，却是《欢乐家园》中的一些事情。换一句话说，她更关心自身和这乡村的家境。一次，就是两年之前，地区报纸登了他们学生的六篇作文以后，县教育界终于知道，这全县最偏僻的老君庙小学，原来是藏龙卧虎之地，原来还寄籍有铁笔圣手，于是便来人让他们编写一份小学生作文辅导材料。来者是教育局的一位副局长，说出口的言谈，自然带有政府指令的意味。不料她却断然拒绝。说是义务编吗？答说教育界的事情，向是义务，老师们为人师表，也都从不计较酬谢。她说我们也有许多事情，老君庙一至五年级，所有课程都由我和天元负担，你想能抽出空吗？来人不得不败兴而去。倒使父亲深感不安，说怎么能这样待人娅梅。她说我们无求于人，何苦要弯下腰来，与其去义务编写别人的东西，倒不如赶早写完自己的还好。当然，日后正是母亲的这种外秀内刚的脾气，招致了许多人生的挫折。那些事情说起来，令人感到后背有阵阵寒风穿越。然也正是母亲的这种脾气，终于使《欢乐家园》于去年完稿，通过了省出版社整整一年的审查，四审皆过，还有幸被列入重点图书出版计划，要求他们将洋洋四十万字，就原稿删去十万，于本月底寄往省城。 说起来时间还是绰绰有余。可因为上个月孩娃儿病了一场，日夜发烧不退，最后闹到不得不去县医院诊治，这样就凭白耗去了一个半月。接下，又临了麦收，对《欢乐家园》的删改也便不得不日夜兼程，以求三朝五日之后，能送往县城的邮局，让它尽早踏上最少半月的邮途。孩娃儿拿着蝈蝈走回麦场的时候，父亲正将一捆小麦撂在打麦机下，说娅梅你不在家里守着，跑到这儿干啥？她说我来帮着打打麦子，不然人家还真的以为我只能同你说说笑笑，好吃懒做哩。 打麦机前边，已经高高堆起一垛晒焦的小麦。台子地那端，远远站着奶奶的身影和嗅来嗅去的黄黄。山梁别处的坡地上，月光溶溶，不时传来小麦割完没有的问询。除此以外，便是对面山梁小李庄的灯火，时灭时暗。偶尔看到一条路上晃着一盏马灯，不一阵拐进了一块田地，或挂在了田头的一棵树上。吸取去年的雨训，家家户户都乘着月色收割，力图赶早使小麦入仓。这当儿，多年不见的大跃进图景，倒很像是《欢乐家园》描写的一种风光：山虎成群的儿女，到每年的六月，开始播种一种叫“夜生”的粮食。这粮食便是玉蜀黍的鼻祖。它棵大粒小，穗儿圆圆滚滚，籽是红白颜色，中间有一小沟。父亲看一眼对面梁上有声有色的忙碌，说你回家去吧娅梅，通一遍稿子要紧，这儿用不着你。孩娃儿立在父亲身后，倒是首先看到母亲提了一个黄帆布兜儿，不消说里边装的是他们的传奇故事。每当他们忙的时候，去哪的时候，他们总是把那传奇故事装入布兜，提在手里或锁在箱里。有时也挂在墙上。母亲看着父亲的胸，先自笑了一下，说你们都来场上，连强强、黄黄也不在家，看着看着，我自己也害怕起来。又说灯里、瓶里也没油了。 “看到了哪？” “菊子快要活了。” “你就在这儿看吧，冷了围住麦秆，开机器时你帮我递递麦子。”这样说着，父亲便解了麦捆上的绳子，大步地走入了月光下的田地。 30 小麦是丰收得十二分可以。倘若你有幸在三天之前站在台子地边上，看那涛涛麦海，倒也不失为一种享受。那当儿，母亲同父亲收割麦子，父亲地地道道农民似猫在麦地，把哗哗的割麦声扬在天空。母亲却到底不行，每割几步，便要直起腰身，望望太阳，掐一穗迟熟的青麦，揉揉放在嘴里。她说天元，料不到这么丰收，要每亩打八百斤小麦，如何能吃得完呢。 “方便的话，就往省城捎上两千斤去，也让你爸你弟吃些鲜面。” 她就遥望南边。那边是省会郑州的方向。当然她看到的只是黄黄爽爽的田地，灰白茫茫的麦海。然在她的心深之处，自不消说，她已经灵犀到近千里之外省会郑州。无论岁月和命运对她如何苦口婆心，想让她彻底忘却那方生养之地，实则是胜于蜀道之难。尽管父亲和弟弟，都曾经对她的生活有过诘难掣肘。回想过去，毕竟父亲对她有过养育之恩；而弟弟，也毕竟是一奶同胞。 除她之外，知青们全部返城那年，春节她回到省城过年，张老师作为一位知音，将她送到镇上的车站，又忽然想把她送往洛阳。偏这时买过了车票，她又说天元，我这一走，如在郑州能找个临时工做，也许就不回了，你就忍心在这和我分手？他就把她送到洛阳，买了火车票，又在洛阳呆了一天，同游了龙门石窟。第二天才搭上往省城去的过路客车，到家时已近黄昏。父女二人见面，少不了各自哭了一场。家里住的是父亲单位的一间一分为二的老民房，建于解放初期，在屋内能看见太阳月亮和点点星光。所谓的两间房子，共是十三平方，父亲、弟弟各住一间，她回去了，便将弟弟赶到了父亲床上。这样三朝两日尚好，过完春节，还没到初五，弟弟便忽然问说： “姐姐，你什么时候走？” "Where are you going?" “四伏牛山那个张家营子。” “我不想走了，那儿的知青只剩下我一个。” “真不走了？” “真不走了。” “天呀……” 听说自己真不走了，弟弟差一点惊叫起来。那时候，弟弟已经参加工作，因家境贫寒，工种也不甚好，仅是一个街道小厂的车工，连大集体的工人也还不是，却又偏偏谈了一个模样不错的对象。且对象还是一家银行的出纳，上班时总穿一套配发的绿色制服，胸前别着“中国人民银行”字样的徽章，向所有遇到她的人们宣布，她是全民性质的工人。这样力量悬殊的对比，弟弟自然要对人家敬如尊神。 她说：“人家真心和你好？” 弟说：“我这样的人她去哪儿找？郑州城也只有我一个。没结婚我连她的袜子都洗了。” she says. “你是男人，腰杆要直着谈恋爱。” 弟说：“谁让咱家条件不如人。不瞒姐说，她妈她爸的衣服我都洗。” 少不了替弟一阵难受，可又无可奈何。一句谁让自己条件不如人，道出了弟弟多少辛酸泪水。晚上躺着，听着一板之隔的那边，父亲和弟弟睡在一张床上，父亲说你往里边躺躺，我都睡到了床下。弟弟说你没看我是挨着墙睡，也不能让我睡到墙缝去吧！于是吵了几句，父亲就索性不睡，坐在床头彻夜地吸烟。弟弟霸占着床，睡了一觉，动起恻隐之心。自己到大街上彻夜未归，把床让给父亲，这样熬到初七，弟弟索性家也不回，睡到了对象那儿，只吃饭的时候回来待上半个小时。 父亲说：“你小子真是不要脸啦！” 弟弟说：“姐姐不走你让我睡到哪儿？” 她开始找同学们以叙旧为名，晚上就住在那儿，白天则回家里给父亲、弟弟烧饭。同时，一方面请求以父亲的诚实厚笃，到父亲单位换回一份同情，给自己找一份工作，哪怕是煤厂的搬运工人也成；另一方面，夜间向朋友诉苦，看是否能在哪儿弄出半间房子。类似的努力，耗去了她许多心血，到头来唯一的收获，是父亲在工厂的车间头上，钉了半间油毡棚子，搬出了这间老房，给她和弟弟备让出一张床来。父亲搬走那天，她暗自哭了一场，说： “我还回到乡下去吧。” 父亲说：“都已经住下了，回去干啥。” 弟弟没吭。可父亲搬走的第二个晚上，弟弟却把对象领回家住。一间房子，木板一隔，两边各设一床，他们说笑到深夜，她说弟的对象，我们一块睡吧。人家却直言不讳，说姐呀，你在乡下辛苦，自个儿一张床睡吧，我和他挤在一张床上，反正我俩早就想结婚了。那个时候，省会再也不是她熟悉的省会，随着时势的急剧开放，西方文明洪水一样东渐，使这个大都会城貌虽然依旧，然人的精神却日新月异。市内出现了几家不售舞票的舞厅，终于转得使青年人有些疯癫的状态。影院上演日本的《望乡》和墨西哥的《叶塞尼娅》、《冷酷的心》等片子，创下了建国以来罕见的票房收入。据说，有的待业青年，在本市连场看《望乡》，可以通宵达旦，甚至追着片子，到一百多里外的古城开封去看。面对这种景况，你能说些什么？弟弟说他对《望乡》没怎么看，只陪着对象看了六场。他这样说时，有一种对《望乡》被政府禁演了的遗憾。又说其实《望乡》是很健康的，不过是中国人少见多怪罢了。少见多怪，他说得多么有理有据。那个晚上，他和对象睡在里屋，先是嘀嘀咕咕说些啥儿，压着嗓子，还惟恐她在外面听见。就连对象的笑，也压成了一股细泉。再后来，也许他们以为她睡着了，开始无所顾忌起来，把床铺弄出天崩地裂的吱吱嘎嘎；连彼此喘息的声音，都仿佛暴风骤雨一样穿越隔板，哗哗啦啦浇注在她的内心， 她一夜未睡，也未敢在床上动弹一下。