Chapter 32 chapter Ten

The wind, the wind, the wind of the Yellow River is blowing; tick, tick, tick... the donkey is walking slowly. The moon was already close to the west mountain, embedded in the eye sockets of the Human Face Peak, casting a solemn shadow on the lower slope of the mountain, but a silver brilliance on the top of the grove on the river beach. On the river branch on the bank, the tall skeleton of the waterwheel is erected.It has a history of hundreds of years, it stands there still, and keeps moving; it is so old, but as long as the water of the Yellow River comes, it is full of youthful vitality.Now, the wings of the waterwheel are turning happily under the slanting moonlight, splashing, splashing, splashing, and the silhouette of the waterwheel rhythmically splashes sparkling water in midair...

He only lay on the kang for one day.In the evening, he drank two sips of the rice soup his daughter made for him, and walked to the wheat field with his shoes on. The setting sun is like blood, the loess is like gold, and the fields on the northwest plateau look even more brilliant under the backlight.The sheep came back along the dirt road in the country.With round bellies and soft golden light on their snow-white bodies, they walked towards the sheepfold with great vigor.The male and female commune members who finished work put their clothes on the handles of their shovels and fought and fought along the way, pushing each other and making jokes that only farmers can say.In the distance, a man was chased by a group of women, and accidentally rolled down the ditch by the side of the road, splashing water and laughing...

Yes, to live is to live.In life, there is still another kind of majestic attraction attracting him.To these laughing men and women, he has an unshirkable responsibility, an obligation that cannot be shirked. He is the secretary of the branch, and now the country is in chaos, and even the lives of women who go out cannot be guaranteed. How can he leave them? What's more, Han Yumei, an unknown rural woman, has lived her whole life without leaving a shadow of her. His life is also a flesh and blood monument to Han Yumei.Sitting on the ridge of the field, he kept rubbing his chest, as if he wanted to rub Han Yumei into the deepest part of his heart.

In fact, what people are not easy to endure is the daily, trivial and trivial troubles, but they are more able to accept a huge grief, because it will tear a hole in the heart and go directly to the bottom of the heart to hide... At that time, there were five leading cadres who came to Weijiaqiao to escape from the "revolutionary masses" and lived in three houses.Although he didn't know their positions and names, he often went to chat with them when he had time, and cared about their food and accommodation.From the chat, he learned that some of them had their wives fighting, some had their homes stolen, their wives were separated, some of their wives hanged themselves, and their children drew a clear line with him, and they went somewhere Gone, in short, in all manner of misfortune.

After Han Yumei's accident, he unknowingly put himself in their circle. When he was distressed, he couldn't help slipping to their place and sighing with them. Liu Weiqing was nominally a liaison officer sent by the "Red Leather Industry" to receive the leading cadres who were on his side and were being fought by the "League of Leather Industry". He Lide, how could she have extra time to stay in Weijiaqiao? She would return to the provincial capital on the same day as soon as people brought her here. Frustrated news, their panic and loneliness can be imagined. One day, several leading cadres were bored in the room and asked him to take him to the Yellow River to relax.He took them to a sandy beach covered with tall and dense reeds by the river, and the shore did not sink their feet.

In summer, the yellow river is open and magnificent.The mallard birds startled by them fluttered up from the reeds, circled over the surging river for a while, and then flew back to the reeds to protect their eggs, sipping and calling around their heads.The high and bright silver clouds unique to summer float on the river, like the steam rising from the river water, erratic and ever-changing.On the surface of the water, the waves follow one after the other, clusters of golden flowers bloom on the top of each row of waves, disappearing suddenly, rising again; Graceful, bold and unrestrained vivid scene.The raging roar of the turbulent waves, the soft singing of the backflow, the chant of the waves, and the wailing of the mallard birds form a majestic and soul-stirring symphony.The wind comes from the east, and the river beats rhythmically on the beach, pushing up piece by piece, piece by piece, gray-brown broken branches and broken trees one by one. In the wheel, I think of my past. On the shore, the gentle wind blows the slender leaves of reed grass, gently soothing the gray and messy hair of these veteran cadres that has appeared recently, and bringing a kind of muddy smell, a smell that can only be found in The fragrance mixed with the milky smell can only be smelled in the mother's arms.

Looking at the river, facing the wind, listening to all kinds of thrilling sounds, and smelling the strong fragrance of muddy water, people will feel that all these things do not come from outside the body, but from the illusion born from the bottom of their hearts. The original impression given to him before he was born and still in the mother's womb. The leading cadres were shocked by the scene that was both in front of their eyes and pouring out from the bottom of their hearts. Suddenly, an old cadre in a light gray denim shirt covered his face with his hands and sobbed. The first sob made the rest of the people stare solemnly into the distance, just like the freeze-frame of a movie, no one thought about it, and they couldn't turn their heads to comfort, as if this sob represented them Common voice.

He was used to the myriad weather of the Yellow River, so he didn't take it as a surprise, but he was moved by the slight weeping.In the sobs of the old man who did not want to hide, there is not only sorrow, but also attachment, insight, return to the original, and reverence and love for the most sublime nature above the chaotic current affairs. .Suddenly, he felt that he and this veteran cadre were connected in spirit, even though they mostly used different vocabulary.There is something in common between them that goes beyond knowledge, status, experience, and so on. "Ah, Yellow River, you are the cradle of the Chinese nation!"...

After stopping for a long time, a chubby round-faced cadre decided to break the silence, looked at him with wet eyes, and asked like a child: "Old Comrade Wei, we... can you lead us to a place where we can go into the water?" ?” He led them to an inlet by the river.A calm reflux ripples within.The leading cadres took off their underwear, shoes and socks one after another, folded them carefully, and put them on the "creeper".At this time, their emotions began to become lively. "Aha! This is really like 'jumping into the Yellow River can't clean it'!" The fat cadre stood in the water, pouring water on his chest.

"The ancients said, 'When the sage comes out, the Yellow River is clear.' Well, now, the river is getting muddier." "Don't say a few words, Lao Yang, do you still think your materials are not enough?" So they avoided sensitive topics and played in the waist-deep bay.The veteran cadre in the light gray shirt also took off his pants, stretched out his skinny legs, and tested the temperature of the water with his toes. "Ha, I also have to thank Ho Lide, an opportunist, he found us a good place!" An old cadre who was digging in the water exclaimed excitedly.

"Although the Cultural Revolution cleaned up the muddy water, it is a pity that we still have to rely on mud for protection." Another leading cadre said, waving his arms in the water. "Look, look, we're talking about these things again." The timid cadre stopped them again. "Okay, let's not talk, let's come to the game." "Old Comrade Wei, won't you come down?" He was not interested in going on.After Han Yumei's accident, he lost interest in everything. He squatted on the shore with his elbows folded, looking for something to relieve his feelings with his sad eyes.He knew that they had all been majestic and promising leaders in the past, but at this moment, they suddenly became the same people as him.Under the scorching sun in the early noon, their pale and loose flesh glowed faintly, like malnourished babies.They staggered unaccustomed to the water, like toddlers learning to walk.They were all in their fifties, but now they were playing like urchins in the river. The sobbing old cadre also showed an innocent smile on his face, and he frantically parried the water thrown at him by others.They played happily for a while, and then pointed to each other's scars and sighed: from the War of Resistance Against Japan, the War of Liberation, the Korean War, the suppression of bandits and rebellion, and the scars left by the big sign hanging around their necks years ago.They laughed at themselves, they laughed with a mixture of pride and sadness. When he saw the indelible marks of honor and the scars of shame overlapping on their bodies, he temporarily forgot about Han Yumei in his heart, and felt a burst of sincere respect and sympathy for them.In them he found something greater than personal misfortune.He couldn't say what this thing was, but he could feel that any great personal pain was insignificant in front of this thing. "Can you sing?" Suddenly, he couldn't help asking. "Yes, for example: 'Revolution is not about treating guests to dinner, not making a fuss...'" a shirtless leading cadre sang. "No, no." He shook his head decisively. "So what is it? It's 'Eastern wind blows, war drums beating...'" "No, not at all." He thought for a while and decided to tell them what he thought was a very mysterious song, "There is a line in this song: 'Yellow River, you are the cradle of the Chinese nation.'" "Ah!" The five leading cadres who were about to go ashore and put on their clothes looked at him in surprise. "How do you know this song?" "Well, I know." He replied a little arrogantly. "How about it? Lao Yang, let's sing." After they looked at each other, the plump leading cadre proposed enthusiastically. "Forget it." The cautious cadre glanced at him. "Sing! Don't be afraid." The leading cadre called Lao Yang waved his hands and played a tune, so the five people suddenly let go of their throats with enthusiasm: On the bank of the Yellow River, a group of people gathered, Excellent descendants of the Chinese nation. The responsibility of human liberation and national salvation, It's all up to us to take on... What they sang was not "Yellow River, you are the cradle of the Chinese nation", but "A group of outstanding descendants of the Chinese nation gathered on the banks of the Yellow River" gave him the same strong shock from the beginning.In particular, what he saw was not a young and thin You Xiaozhou, but a group of old revolutionaries who were nearly half a century old and over half a century old, but fell into the same fate as You Xiaozhou, all shirtless and spineless, lined up Row, solemnly, engrossed, and impassioned, recalling, accusing, resisting, and yearning with all my heart.When their tears flowed unobstructed from the eye sockets to the cheeks and down to the chin in the sun, the tears he had been holding back for several days finally got the trigger, and suddenly rushed out, which made him feel sick all at once. Rush down on the "creeper". He actually burst into tears. The five leading cadres stopped singing in surprise and surrounded him. "What's the matter? Comrade Wei..." "Don't, don't..." He knelt on the grass beach, pouted his buttocks, buried his head deeply in the "creeper", and scratched around with his hands. "Don't, don't be afraid. Just let me cry, cry..." After he finished speaking, he put all his heart and soul into it, as if he took crying as a business, let his tears flow freely while howling. The wind died down, and the tall reeds straightened up in amazement; the mallard stopped wailing, and gloated into the nest where its eggs were hatched.Only his howling like a wolf echoed on the grassy beach. The five leading cadres seemed to be able to understand it, and stopped persuading him. They lowered their heads solemnly and surrounded him like patron saints. "He must be a very emotional person." The fat cadre said, wiping his tears. "At this time, the person who cries like this must be a good person." The cadre named Lao Yang let his tears flow down his chin and nodded.