Chapter 7 seven

seven I lift up my eyes and look at the vast wilderness There is her shadow on the mountain ridge covered with aike Oh, if we could understand the true meaning of life earlier; if we could read a book, from which we can know all the philosophy and avoid those muddy adversity that must be practiced step by step and the sour bitter fruit that must be tasted, maybe we will Catch happiness in time, so as not to miss it.However, even for the most ordinary and trivial pursuit, it is so difficult and unpredictable to achieve perfection. Perhaps, it is precisely because of this that people lament life.We grow, become stronger and fuller, and our emotional burdens and imperfections also increase, so that we gradually learn to be serious about emotion.And when we suddenly feel that we have grown up a year in thought and see the future clearly, the past cannot be chased, and the grudges are irretrievable.When we look at the latecomers who are younger than us, and look at their fearlessness, fantasy and passion, we will have a little deeper gaze.In the breeze, among the crowd, we walked calmly, and secretly quickened our pace...

After meeting Somia, I experienced all of the above. When we met, nothing dramatic happened.Somia grabbed the bull nose rope vigorously and strode towards him.She smiled and said hello to me: "Oh, Baiyinbaolig! I heard Dawacang said that you are coming. How are you, are you tired on the road? How are you doing at work? You are still the same! Hehe!" Pull the reins. She led a safflower cow in the first car and walked side by side with me.She didn't cry out loud, and she didn't throw herself into my arms, and she didn't even call me "Bapa".Even after I fend her off.It was the same when she swung the three-pronged harrow and the flat shovel to unload the four loads of coal behind the school kitchen for her.She said something casually, as if nothing had happened.

She has changed, if there is no familiar face, sloping shoulders and black eyes.Maybe I really don't recognize her, after all we have been separated for nine years.Gone was a scent from her that I will always remember; a warmth I remember from being a child, from when she sat on the back of a bull and held me on the shoulder.She is much thicker than before, with sharp edges and corners, her voice is hoarse, and she speaks with a hasty tone and easy-going ending like that of a sister-in-law and an old woman.She wore a ragged blue cloth gown that was worn to the elbows, and the skirt was black with soot and oil.She picked up the heavy lump of coal nonchalantly and moved them away against her chest, and I noticed that her fingers were red and rough.When I pushed her away and used the three-toothed rake to deal with those coals, she didn't seem to notice my mood, and immediately took another piece from the other side of the bullock cart.She chatted with me and the cook who came to help about the weather and what she had seen along the way, naturally and calmly.However, I believe this is just a thin shell of her.Because, at this moment, I must also be calm and measured in her eyes.Life teaches us the same ability to hide our inner truth behind that outer shell.We were working together, rattling off pieces of media; we must be thinking of the same past, and let it rattle in our hearts.

In the afternoon, the lakeside town of Nuogainur is sunny and bright.The children who had finished school were shouting and shouting like birds around Somia, and the teachers taking a break, the casual dairy workers, and old men staggering from door to door were all gathered around the freshly unloaded pile of coal. Comment and discuss.I found that Somia was very popular here, and she was always stopped by those people, talking and laughing. We chatted casually in this way until the work was over and she led me home.When we turned around the low slope in front of the school and walked along the lakeside path towards the small mud house with a half-underground style, there was a sudden rush of neighing.Ganga Hala stumbled.Jumping and running.It wasn't until the horse hopped up to us, stretched its neck toward Somia and stretched its trembling lips into her arms without hesitation, that I understood everything about this black horse.

I looked at Ganga Hala in amazement.It rubbed its big black head in Somia's arms without saying a word, shrugged its ears, and opened its amber eyes uneasily, as if it was saying something wordlessly. Somia gently hugged the black steed's head with her hands covered in powdered powder, and stroked it for a long time. I saw her eyes were filled with tears, and her shoulders were trembling slightly.But she kept her back to me and didn't say a word. She tidied up the house quickly.Open the window, light the fire, wash all the pots and pans, wash the dirt off the faces of the three men one by one, and make their faces turn around.

The kolba was filled with warmth again, but not the same hot and messy atmosphere as last night.She boiled a big pot of strong strong tea and put the big teapot on the red ashes beside the stove.She found a can of butter and a bag of brown sugar, and fried a lot of small yellow noodles.She put the pancakes in front of me, and oil flowers were sizzling on the temptingly sweet pancakes. The Baiyinwula Commune on the other side of the mountain did not send electricity from diesel engines, so it was getting dark and the house was dark.Somia lit the kerosene lamp.Another evening, the evening that I have been looking forward to and fearing all the time has come.The dung fire in the stove glowed orange.This lively warm color is embellished with the dark color of deep gray blue, flashing and jumping, it draws out the unease and excitement that has been tightly suppressed, like a wave of air.Like a silent melody, it is becoming more and more intense in this low mud house.

The small noodles are sweet and fragrant, and I have eaten a lot.Only then did I remember: I fell asleep by the lake at noon and forgot to drink afternoon tea. The children were arguing on the kang, fighting for bedding and pillows. Somia ordered Qiqige to lay a new blanket for me.The little girl ran into the next hut and quickly brought a piece of white striped felt.She spread the strips of felt on the kang against the wall, and quickly swept away the grass on it.Finally, she spread out a new leather robe on the strip of felt.Then I got off the Dingkang, stood aside, looked at my mother silently, and then at me.For some reason, I couldn't help but pull her over and stroked her hair.Then, I lay down.

Somia blew out the lamp in one gulp. In the dark, I opened my eyes and listened carefully to every slight sound coming from the other side of the kang with four children.For a long time, I couldn't tell whether Somia had already lay down.I stared blankly at the roof, but there was also chaos, and I couldn't count how many rafters there were.The youngest boy, the coachman's dear sweetheart, suddenly groaned.So I heard Somia start coaxing him softly.I held my breath and listened to her soft voice.She was talking in that sweet, heavily whispered whisper that only mothers and children understand, that can only be heard in sleeping yurts.This kind of sound makes people feel the strong breath unique to women... Just like this, my former girl and Shana and I lie under a low roof, on an earthen kang .We all try to make as little noise as we can.We are so estranged, so straight like passers-by.Oh, farewell, my lark on the prairie, my girl in red with dark eyes, I have lost you forever...

There is no moonlight.The night sky was probably covered with dark clouds, and even the edge of the window was dark.Only the remaining cow dung fire in the hearth glowed faintly red, and occasionally there were clear crackling sounds.There was a regular snore in the house: the children were fast asleep. At this moment, I heard Somia let out a low, long sigh.A sigh of relief, like a trembling moan. As if I heard the call of the horn, I sat up suddenly, I would rather die than continue to suffer in this silence.Panting, I said loudly into the darkness: "Somiya! No, Shana! You... say something!"

After saying that, I closed my eyes hard and bit my lip desperately. After a long time, Somia spoke.She whispered: "Grandma is dead." Again there was silence.I understand that it is my turn to answer that obliterated question. I began to speak with difficulty.This question has torn my heart more than once since I set out on the journey on my black steed.For more than nine years, in colleges and agencies, among colleagues in the research laboratory and among all friends, I never thought that there is such a severe court in the remote grassland, which is preparing to judge my soul.Somia now, perhaps for the last time, I spoke with great difficulty, about the rocky valley, about the shepherd's bones in the sky burial, about how I bid farewell to my dear grandma there and begged For her forgiveness, I also talked about the reprimand I received from the driver Dawacang.As I spoke, the tears couldn't stop streaming down my face.

This is the first time I cry.I've never shed tears before.Even, I once suspected that this was a kind of physical defect of myself.I always grit my teeth, frown, and swallow all the pain; people often think that I am a cold and heartless guy... I bit my sleeves desperately, for fear of waking up the sleeping children.But this time I couldn't help it anymore, I couldn't go on anymore, I just let out ugly cries for nothing. "Don't be like this, Baiyinbaolig..." Somia called me in a low voice.She said hoarsely, "Is there an old man who lives forever?" And I'm overwhelmed with grief.I can no longer tell whether I am crying for my grandma or myself.I thought of the contempt I had for the old man when I threw the dagger on the ground, and I thought of the situation when I struggled home clutching my kicked abdomen.I thought of the cold and lonely feeling beside the desolate sky burial ditch, and also thought of the tenderness when I put the leather robe on Suomiji.I thought of that red glow, that black colt, that vile Sheila, that dreadful parting.Thinking of a baby the size of a spoon and a kitten.Thinking of the female teacher, the coachman, and Shiba from Nuogainur Lake.I thought of my indistinguishable grievances, and even more of those countless years that I could hardly remember completely, which made me grow from a child to a young man, and how my father entrusted me, who lost my mother when I was young, to that kind The old man... "Grandma!" I was so sad that I just buried my head in my hands and cried. "Grandma—Grandma!" I just wanted to pull back the old man who hadn't returned, and then wept heartily at her. Somia got down softly, added some cow dung noise to the hearth, and brought me a bowl of tea. She sat on the edge of the Kang, watching me swallowing tea.After drinking the tea, I gradually calmed down. The fire is flickering gently, and the dark red flame shakes Somia's shadow reflected on the earthen wall, silently sending the passing time with us. "Somiya," I called her cautiously. "Huh?" She seemed to be lost in reverie just now. "Are you tired as a temporary worker for the school?" I asked. "No, nothing. I've got to work anyway. Forty-five dollars a month." "Yesterday, a female teacher named Lin told me a lot about you. She really likes you." Somiya smiled lightly, "She has a good heart," she said. I said again: "Dawacang and I drank a lot of wine last night, he is also a good person." Somia didn't answer.After a while, she said softly: "Baiyin Baolig, do you still remember? The Borregen Creek..." "What? Borregon Creek in our home town?" "Yeah." Her voice was so low that she could barely hear it, "Do you still remember the ballad my grandma used to tell: 'Berlogan, Borragan, the girl crossed the river, and she didn't see her hometown and relatives...' Grandma also said, I hope I will never cross the Borragon Creek to marry in a foreign land. But, it seems, I still can't make her happy. You know, that day, I left the camp where we lived for so many years in my husband's carriage The camp was bare, with only a layer of gray sheep manure left. The yurt was broken off and loaded onto a cart. Ganga, Hara... Because you left, I sold it to the commune. The wind was blowing that day Very fierce, the carriage entered the reeds of the Borregon River, and the wind blew the reed leaves rattling. Later, we passed that place, the place on the nitrate bank where we used to make tea with grandma and rest. At that time, I suddenly remembered what my grandma said, and remembered the ballad she sang... I cried, ah, I thought, after all, I still couldn’t escape the fate of the Mongolian woman; The water of the river has become the Belegan of Baiyin Ula..." Somia finally finished speaking, and I listened without saying anything.Looking out from the window sill, it seems that the clouds have faded, and a few bright stars are shining in the slightly bright night sky. I turned around and saw Somia's figure in the darkness, and felt that there were also shining brightly bright.I wanted to reach out and wipe those tears away for her, but I didn't dare. At this time, Somiya said again: "Baiyin Baolig, I couldn't guess where you were at that time, I just remembered that the carriage was swaying and walking in the river, the wheels splashed the cold waves, I hugged my daughter tightly and hid my face behind her body, oh, how grateful I was for Qiqige at that time, I felt that only this little piece of flesh and blood was warming me... Of course, Bai Yinbaolig, you don't want to hear such words. I know, you hate me for having such a daughter..." "No!" I yelled in despair.I interrupted her and argued excitedly: "Shana! You're crazy, I like her, Qiqige is a good girl...and, it seems that she likes me too, she calls me 'Bapa'. She also knows Ganga Hara. I found that when I was with him, the kid was very talkative..." Somia sighed, and I seemed to feel her grimace in the shadows. "You don't know the truth, Baiyin Baolig." She hesitated for a while before continuing: "It's so auspicious: My husband doesn't like this daughter. He was drunk last year. He beat her up and called her a...wild dog. Later, ah, my daughter kept staring at me. Oh my god, for a long time Staring at me for a few days, those eyes were very scary. I panicked, so I whispered to her: Qiqige, you have a Bapa, and now you are riding a beautiful black horse that is unparalleled in the world. We give this horse The name of the horse is Ganga? Hara—a black steed. This Bapa is your father, and his name is Baiyinbaolig. One day, he will suddenly come here on a black steed to see us... " I looked at the kang, Qiqige was sleeping with a corner blanket hugged, his little hands resting on his cheeks.Somia lowered her head wearily and let out a long breath. "Don't hate me. Baiyin Baolig!" She murmured in a weak voice. "I really have no other choice. I think, anyway, I will never see you again in this life..." I summoned up my courage.Reaching out to her, he stroked her shaggy hair.Somia bent her body and covered her face tightly with her hands.She trembled violently as I touched her. After a long time, she raised her head suddenly, and asked me loudly in a strange, hoarse voice: "Why aren't you Qiqige's father? Why? It would be great if it was you... Even if you go far away, even if you don't come to see me today!" I sat numbly and stiffly, unable to answer for a long time.Later, I don't know who recited a sentence: "I can't... Somia, how beautiful you are." The dung fire in the hearth was completely extinguished.The orange or dark red light of the stove has long since disappeared.However, this small mud hut is no longer so dark, and there is a layer of white light on the cloudy glass in the wooden window frame.Before we knew it, morning light had flowed into our surroundings. Its daybreak. It was another unforgettable dawn for both of us.