Life

Cold dew seed, frost seed

  The autumn wind curled up between the ridges on the hillside and hatched large areas of golden rice yellow. Before the fragrance of the rice is thick enough, the mountains are already the mothers who are about to give birth, quiet and unattractive. Households at the foot of the ridge, baskets and pans come alive. On weekdays, these things are kept silent in a corner of the room, and they are constantly commanded and ordered. Finally, it’s time for their grand debut. Mu Zitao is going down the mountain! Afterwards, there will be a continuous harvest of late rice. These disgraced bamboo ware can’t do without nourishing their spirits. Bamboo craftsmen were invited from east to west. Once the water and wine were hot, a few pieces of chess pieces were eaten, and the small bamboo strips sizzled and took off… Baskets and baskets, dustpans and fences, the skin of the bamboo strips walked around a few times , and a few bamboo bones on top, it can be used for another year and a half. A good owner of moso bamboo can also weave a few drying mats. The drying mat hall is as big as a living room, but if there are several acres of valley fields and Muziling, who wouldn’t be eager to weave a few sheets? On a sunny and hot day, on the hillside and in front of the roof, there is a spread of drying mats in the sun. Grain, wood catabasis, peeling, and sweet potato chips. You can dry whatever you see. Spread it in one winter, and the days will be dry and crispy. Crisp aroma. When the clouds pile up in the sky, lift up the drying mat and take a bag at the opposite corner, and the wood and peaches will be piled up with a rush, and then one by one, they will be put into the basket, and the drying mat will be rolled into the warehouse. Muzi peach is a kind of dried fruit extracted from oil, which is abundant in our Shangyou mountain area. The densely packed forest of trees, coupled with the high sky and light mountain ridge lines, has no sense of debauchery. The catalpa tree is hard and the leaves are bright. If you stand on any slope, you will be energetic on any slope. The pressed oil is called wood oil, and it has a light green taste in the mouth, and it is not easy to get angry when used for frying and frying. If there is no food to eat, just pour a tablespoon of wood oil on the rice, pour a circle of soy sauce on it, and sprinkle a few grains of salt. This kind of oil-salt rice can also make people’s eyebrows shine. In case of a high fever and headache, apply a few drops of wood oil on the forehead, hands, and soles, and rest for a night, maybe it will be fine. When my grandmother was in charge of the house, it was said that there were no people on the mountain, the cedar and pine trees were as thick as a rice cooker, the reeds covered the sky, and Muziling was completely green. At that time, my aunt, my aunt, went to my grandmother’s house to matchmaker for my father. The most confident sentence was: “What a good young man we are. Point, but you said how good that wood catabata is, it is worth ten acres of grain fields in your family! And the firewood all over the mountain, tsk tsk, you can’t finish cutting it in three lifetimes!” Of the three, which one do you choose? Too far away? It’s only a matter of climbing a few hills.” After saying this over and over a dozen times, my grandmother’s heart was moved. My mother’s house is in Lizigang, Shexi, which is considered a family by the river. Not to mention the large fields of Shaba, the clear Sixia River alone can flood our small mountain pit. The snails and mussels in the pond are not picked by hand, but It is to use a dustpan to pinch it into the mud, and often a pinch is a bowl of meat. It’s a pity that in such a fertile place, it would not take a few days to burn all the thatch on the mountain after shaving, and there are piles of smooth pig liver stones all over the place. Not to mention Muzi, it is a big project to cook the reeds and set fire to them. You have to carry a sickle on your back and take the food and walk more than ten miles to cut it. Comparing the two, the proximity of firewood and sufficient oil and water naturally become the capital for our pit leaders to survive externally.
  two
  The thick fog is like rice milk, washing the mountain folds clear and bright. Mu Zitao hangs lushly in the hillside and wild valley, can’t help but glance at the sun, the face is shimmering, and it turns blue and red for a while. The wind chased the forest shoots and stripped them down, and some of the wood peaches facing the light opened slightly, revealing the black ziren. The sun licked it for a while, and the peach shell “cracked” open, with four petals like peach blossoms, and Ziren fell to the ground. It will be too late if you don’t go up the mountain to collect catalpas. Most of the tree forests in Hetang are concentrated in a mountain depression called Huyangkeng, all the way to the bottom of the pit. The rain washes down the mountain skin on the ridge year after year, and the mud in the valley is fat and fat, which makes the zilin black. The more you go to the top of the mountain, the more hard the wood catalpa tree grows. Although the wood catalpa peaches that fall like this are not as big as those in the mountain nest, they are one by one, and they are very fine. For a mountain range, as long as there is one family picking it, all households will follow up with the same mountain and valley. Firstly, when you come to Dakeng in Changshan Mountain, you can enjoy the fun together with your companions; secondly, Muziling is bounded by a mountain, and the mountain is emptied, and people from other villages go up to pick Muziling. The depression is deep and the pit is far away. Yes, who knows where he went? It’s not impossible to use this name to make a fortune, it’s better to sweep the air together and let him pick from all over the place. Mu Zitao, which blooms before and after the cold dew, is called Hanlu seed. The capsule is small, but the skin is very thin, and the oil yield is high. Half a month passed and it was Frost’s Descent, and the seeds that were picked at that time were called Frost’s Descent Seeds. The sky is always high and very clean, occasionally a few broken clouds wipe the sky without a trace. We fastened the straw sandals, grabbed a long bamboo hook, and drove straight into the mountain with the adults who were picking baskets. The tranquility of the mountain was shattered, everyone “squeaked” into the woodland forest, the branches were hooked down heavily, the wood tree peaches were thrown into the pan in large quantities, and the pheasants fluttered from the top of the mountain in shock. Fly to that hill. The mother bent her neck, first picked the branches within reach around the tree, then stretched her body, pulled up the tree with both hands, hung the flat basket on the branch, rode on the branches, and picked them one by one. Mu Zitao fell down like a hailstone, and we picked it all over the ground, and the basket was full after a while. The wind blew over, and my mother’s cinnabar red sanitary clothes and lake blue trousers were washed white. The trousers of the whole body were shaking together with the catalpa tree, and the red, yellow and blue plaid scarf on her head was rolled up like awn flowers. After all, women are weak in strength, and the wood is tightly knotted, and often some of them cannot swing. Mother jumped off the tree and patted herself regretfully: It’s useless, wait for your dad to pick it. When we were a little older, we followed our mother to pick them row by row along the hillside. The catalpa leaves are so green that they are black, and some cold dew seeds are hard to find when they are hatched at the bottom of the leaves. You will only poke your head out when you pick the next tree. When the mother sees it, she will turn back and gently scold us while chopping the branches and leaves carefully. : Don’t be greedy, pick it clean, three wood catalpas and one drop of oil! After picking half of the basket, she was afraid that we would not be able to carry it, so she would praise with a smile: “Ah——!” Cubs are really capable! Picked so much, come on! Come on me! After hearing this, our brains seemed to be oily, and our spines that had been weakened by exhaustion immediately straightened. Small surprises often pop out from the wooded forest. Shan Renzi, hanging eggplant, rice sieve seeds… These small purple-black berries are hidden in the reed clumps, and my brother always grabs them and stuffs them into our mouths, and we all smile. There is also a kind of fruit on small vines, which grow in clusters under the leaves, like small umbrella-shaped flowers. Catch one and put it under the tongue, sip it, the skin will peel off, it will be like rice milk, filled with small rice-like flesh, we call it “Fan’an Tuan”. “Fan’an Tuan” climbed on the bamboo shoots and thorns, and some climbed on the catalpa tree. Mother tore them down one by one, and we tied them into rattan chains and hung them around our necks, or on our wrists or on top of our heads. We picked up a few grains from time to time Put it in your mouth, it can be beautiful for a long time. When the production was divided into households, the Muzi Mountain in Taiwo was divided into five parts. Tangbo, Xiye, Grandpa Mao, and a grandfather named Grandpa in the old Ankou, their Muzi Mountains were all there, and the boundary marks were A foot-deep long valley dug from the top of the ridge to the bottom of the mountain. The freshly dug mud ditch is bright red, and people look at the clumped wood and peaches next door, no matter how hard they beat their hearts, they will never cross the line. The sun is shining, brothers and uncles of the same clan, who dares to make fun of his own reputation? Occasionally, if a tree is pressed against the boundary, two families will call together, you let me and I will let you, and the last family picks half, and no one takes advantage. This is all in Mingdi. After a long time, the reeds and reeds are half a meter high, and they are piled up everywhere. Who can see the boundary ditch at a glance? So every time I picked the border, my mother would never forget to remind me: Watch carefully, don’t pick it beyond the border… No matter how good other people’s things are, even if you can sing and dance, don’t flick your fingernails. There is a pleasant scent of grass and trees rolling on the mountain, mixed with the smell of earth, which makes people feel the vastness and depth of the autumn wind. My mother shuttled in the woods and trees. These words came softly, and the reeds scratched, and it was hard to say that it was pain Still itchy. There are boundaries between people, and my mother’s voice and expression made me feel Tsurudo’s duty and safety in life. The autumn wind spreads in all directions, and the Muzi valley full of reeds is so deeply hung in my memory. In the clump, my brother stroked it at every turn, and stuffed it into our mouths, and we all smiled. There is also a kind of fruit on small vines, which grow in clusters under the leaves, like small umbrella-shaped flowers. Catch one and put it under the tongue, sip it, the skin will peel off, it will be like rice milk, filled with small rice-like flesh, we call it “Fan’an Tuan”. “Fan’an Tuan” climbed on the bamboo shoots and thorns, and some climbed on the catalpa tree. Mother tore them down one by one, and we tied them into rattan chains and hung them around our necks, or on our wrists or on top of our heads. We picked up a few grains from time to time Put it in your mouth, it can be beautiful for a long time. When the production was divided into households, the Muzi Mountain in Taiwo was divided into five parts. Tangbo, Xiye, Grandpa Mao, and a grandfather named Grandpa in the old Ankou, their Muzi Mountains were all there, and the boundary marks were A foot-deep long valley dug from the top of the ridge to the bottom of the mountain. The freshly dug mud ditch is bright red, and people look at the clumped wood and peaches next door, no matter how hard they beat their hearts, they will never cross the line. The sun is shining, brothers and uncles of the same clan, who dares to make fun of his own reputation? Occasionally, if a tree is pressed against the boundary, two families will call together, you let me and I will let you, and the last family will pick half of it, and no one will take advantage. This is all in Mingdi. After a long time, the reeds and reeds are half a meter high, and they are piled up everywhere. Who can see the boundary ditch at a glance? So every time I picked the border, my mother would never forget to remind me: Watch carefully, don’t pick it beyond the border… No matter how good other people’s things are, even if you can sing and dance, don’t flick your fingernails. There is a pleasant scent of grass and trees rolling on the mountain, mixed with the smell of earth, which makes people feel the vastness and depth of the autumn wind. My mother shuttled in the woods and trees. These words came softly, and the reeds scratched, and it was hard to say that it was pain Still itchy. There are boundaries between people, and my mother’s voice and expression made me feel Tsurudo’s duty and safety in life. The autumn wind spreads in all directions, and the Muzi valley full of reeds is so deeply hung in my memory. In the clump, my brother stroked it at every turn, and stuffed it into our mouths, and we all smiled. There is also a kind of fruit on small vines, which grow in clusters under the leaves, like small umbrella-shaped flowers. Catch one and put it under the tongue, sip it, the skin will peel off, it will be like rice milk, filled with small rice-like flesh, we call it “Fan’an Tuan”. “Fan’an Tuan” climbed on the bamboo shoots and thorns, and some climbed on the catalpa tree. Mother tore them down one by one, and we tied them into rattan chains and hung them around our necks, or on our wrists or on top of our heads. We picked up a few grains from time to time Put it in your mouth, it can be beautiful for a long time. When the production was divided into households, the Muzi Mountain in Taiwo was divided into five parts. Tangbo, Xiye, Grandpa Mao, and a grandfather named Grandpa in the old Ankou, their Muzi Mountains were all there, and the boundary marks were A foot-deep long valley dug from the top of the ridge to the bottom of the mountain. The freshly dug mud ditch is bright red, and people look at the clumped wood and peaches next door, no matter how hard they beat their hearts, they will never cross the line. The sun is shining, brothers and uncles of the same clan, who dares to make fun of his own reputation? Occasionally, if a tree is pressed against the boundary, two families will call together, you let me and I will let you, and the last family picks half, and no one takes advantage. This is all in Mingdi. After a long time, the reeds and reeds are half a meter high, and they are piled up everywhere. Who can see the boundary ditch at a glance? So every time I picked the border, my mother would never forget to remind me: Watch carefully, don’t pick it beyond the border… No matter how good other people’s things are, even if you can sing and dance, don’t flick your fingernails. There is a pleasant scent of grass and trees rolling on the mountain, mixed with the smell of earth, which makes people feel the vastness and depth of the autumn wind. My mother shuttled in the woods and trees. These words came softly, and the reeds scratched, and it was hard to say that it was pain Still itchy. There are boundaries between people, and my mother’s voice and expression made me feel Tsurudo’s duty and safety in life. The autumn wind spreads in all directions, and the Muzi valley full of reeds is so deeply hung in my memory. Looking at Mu Zitao next door, no matter how hard they beat their hearts, they would never cross the line. The sun is shining, brothers and uncles of the same clan, who dares to make fun of his own reputation? Occasionally, if a tree is pressed against the boundary, two families will call together, you let me and I will let you, and the last family picks half, and no one takes advantage. This is all in Mingdi. After a long time, the reeds and reeds are half a meter high, and they are piled up everywhere. Who can see the boundary ditch at a glance? So every time I picked the border, my mother would never forget to remind me: Watch carefully, don’t pick it beyond the border… No matter how good other people’s things are, even if you can sing and dance, don’t flick your fingernails. There is a pleasant scent of grass and trees rolling on the mountain, mixed with the smell of earth, which makes people feel the vastness and depth of the autumn wind. My mother shuttled in the woods and trees. These words came softly, and the reeds scratched, and it was hard to say that it was pain Still itchy. There are boundaries between people, and my mother’s voice and expression made me feel Tsurudo’s duty and safety in life. The autumn wind spreads in all directions, and the Muzi valley full of reeds is so deeply hung in my memory. Looking at Mu Zitao next door, no matter how hard they beat their hearts, they would never cross the line. The sun is shining, brothers and uncles of the same clan, who dares to make fun of his own reputation? Occasionally, if a tree is pressed against the boundary, two families will call together, you let me and I will let you, and the last family picks half, and no one takes advantage. This is all in Mingdi. After a long time, the reeds and reeds are half a meter high, and they are piled up everywhere. Who can see the boundary ditch at a glance? So every time I picked the border, my mother would never forget to remind me: Watch carefully, don’t pick it beyond the border… No matter how good other people’s things are, even if you can sing and dance, don’t flick your fingernails. There is a pleasant scent of grass and trees rolling on the mountain, mixed with the smell of earth, which makes people feel the vastness and depth of the autumn wind. My mother shuttled in the woods and trees. These words came softly, and the reeds scratched, and it was hard to say that it was pain Still itchy. There are boundaries between people, and my mother’s voice and expression made me feel Tsurudo’s duty and safety in life. The autumn wind spreads in all directions, and the Muzi valley full of reeds is so deeply hung in my memory.

  Counting , Hetang is the closest to my family as Xiye and Tangbo. Tang Bo shaves people’s heads in Doushui Town, and is rarely at home all year round. Master Xi shares a house with my family, my family lives in the front hall, and his family lives in the back hall. He has many children, including his wife and grandson, and he can go up and down the hills and in the corners of the fields, and a team of people will pull out with horses, and he can finish work early in a few strokes. Really too busy, only Xiye’s family can come forward to help. He has a son named Xiaoqian, the third eldest, who is slender in stature, but his eyes roll like cold dew seeds. Outside the fields, Uncle Qian loves cats in the ditches and river branches to fish for shrimps with loach. The wood catabases in his family were picked quickly, and when they were almost finished, they walked around to the foot of my house: “Sister-in-law! What are left? How many trees can I pick for you?” “Sorry to make you tired!” Naturally, my mother was polite. A few times. Little Uncle Qian didn’t say much, just picked up the pan and went up the tree. If the sun was about to go down, Uncle Qian would carry a shoulder pole to help carry the wood back home, one load after another, until the moon climbed up, and the night was covered with fog and the entire mountain pit was filled with people’s shadows. After returning to the house, Xiye’s kitchen is often cooking. Little Uncle Qian always scooped up water to take a bath, then put on a pair of slippers, rolled a trumpet cigarette on his mouth, and sat down in the dining room of my house. My mother has just dropped the baskets, here she hunts for chickens and drives ducks into their nests, here she grabs firewood and fetches water to make a fire and cooks, she never forgets to ask my younger brother to make tea, and let me scoop up a pot of wine in the dark to come out Sift it for him to drink. The wine lady has been there for more than a month, she is not old or young, and she is obsessed with distiller’s grains. After drinking a bowl, give him a full bowl. If my father came back to the house and the stove happened to be busy again, my mother would ask me to get two eggs out of the cabinet, or grab some loach and dried chili or something. This is the meaning of keeping Uncle Qian for dinner. As soon as Uncle Qian got up and wanted to leave, his father stopped him: “The meal is ready! There is no decent dish, just add a bowl and a pair of chopsticks!” Scrambled eggs with red pepper or dried loach are the next meal, which is quite oily. Usually reluctant to eat. But when it is critical, he will step forward to help, except for his own people, who has the sincerity? Many things cannot be bought with money. Uncle Qian was no longer polite, he didn’t talk much when drinking and eating, and seemed to be enjoying himself calmly.
  Four
  After ten days and a half months, the wood forest gradually emptied. The reed scorpion and spotted grass on the mountain fell to pieces as if they had been planed by wild boars. The catalpa trees straightened up their sweaty bodies and let out a long breath. At this time, Muzishan looked a bit like a confinement woman who had just given birth to a cub, with baggy clothes, crooked buttons, fluffy hair, and a waterfall-like smile on her face. The sunlight is transparent and paints the village golden. Huge drying mats are spread on the lawn at the door of each house, and the newly picked muzi peaches are lying on it. The greatest happiness is still deep in the mountains. Someone picked up a few wild eggs, someone dug out a nest of small cliff women from an old grave, someone even caught a pair of turtledoves, and someone caught a pangolin… These people must be They have done many good deeds for the village, and Muzishan silently rewarded them. How is the harvest this year? When we meet on the road, it is indispensable to ask questions with a mouth. Both jealousy and regret are a blink of an eye. The master has his own staff: Have you seen how much effort he put in to cultivate the fields and shovel the mountains? The catalpa trees shoveled across the ridge are full of vigor, whether it is cold dew seeds or frost seeds, and there is no tree that does not bear a lot of children and grandchildren. Yamada is also honest, just like people, no matter how much effort and effort you put in, you will eventually stick to yourself. Most Banqiu was exhausted, and could finally take a breather. It’s hard for relatives and uncles to help, so I should chop a few catties of pork and warm two pots of water and wine to settle my belly—the food is not light. Best, kill a pup to make up for it. “The dog meat is rolled three times, and the gods can’t sit still.” When it comes to Qiuweizi, you have to rely on this thing to strengthen your bones. After a few bowls of braised dog meat, it’s like a stove growing under your feet all winter. Once the red bud taro is boiled in the autumn wind, the rice soup is covered with flour, and there is always a muddy fragrance soaked in cold and heat. Shixin’s potato chips are indispensable. They are peeled, rubbed into potato pulp with a razor, served with rice noodles, and fried with a ball of potato buns. Take it home and give it to the young and old to try something new. Hetang people always use “eating” to release their tense emotions and nerves. In order to take it for granted, let’s choose a nice name, such as “washing the flat basket”, “washing the sickle”, “washing the pole” and so on. The year is coming to an end, no matter whether the wish is fulfilled or not, time After turning over, there is a lot of satisfaction and happiness in washing hands and quitting to cherish yourself. All of this came to an end, and the days were short. Only then did I realize that the cold dew seeds and frost seeds that I picked had already dried up, like the teeth of an old man, bursting one by one, and the Ziren fell. all over the place.
  five
  As the sun cools down day by day, people move to the drying yard one after another. When the last grain of rice enters the warehouse, when the frost and wind come down, the sweet potato leaves in the field begin to turn purple and wilt. The mud rake picked up the basket and started digging sweet potatoes. Taking advantage of the sunny day, my mother washed some of the big sweet potatoes, beat them, beat them, and dried them into powder, and some of them shredded into slices, shreds, or granulated sweet potatoes, and spread them in the sun to make dry food. , until the skin is wrinkled and the sugar settles down, washed in a river dam, steamed on a high fire, and then stacked on a drying rack to dry. Steaming in this way, drying in the sun, steaming in the sun, repeated over and over again, until a piece of thick sugar marinade is smeared under the feet of the steamer, and the whole body is black and transparent. On winter nights, people are finally free. The whole family sat around the big dustpan, while peeling the wood seeds, while listening leisurely and peacefully to the adults talking about family histories and wild anecdotes in and out of the village—whose cub made a lot of money to build a big house? My son went abroad to study? Whose sister went to develop a massage parlor, whoever dude chopped his wife to death in the middle of the night, who crawled out of the ancestral grave… So some people set off firecrackers for wine with a full face, and some people tucked them in their stomachs and said There are sour, salty, bitter and spicy, and some people scratch and scratch when they eat and sleep—is it because the ancestors have no clothes and no money to spend? Or where did not serve to offend which ghost? Whether it’s the old official, the stone-throwing ghost, or the old tree spirit, it’s better to back up paper money, burn incense and candles to worship, and pray for blessings, avoid evil and eliminate disasters, and you must ask the old man to bless and open the way for future generations to be safe. Father said, beat yourself up and scare yourself! The people living in the mountain tomb are all our ancestors, and it is too late to bless them, so how could they change their ways to harm their own flesh and blood? It is often the big living people to beware of. You see, the fake Yapo hanging high on the bamboo poles in this field is just a handful of brown silk straw tied by people. When the wind blows, it sways, and those chickens and ducks are frightened away. What kind of mountain grows what kind of tree, what kind of tree bears what kind of seeds, the way of heaven is everywhere, what will happen to this offspring, just look at the family style and style to understand. Mother pulled the baskets, lamenting that Mu Zi was getting less and less. More than ten years have passed, and I don’t know how grandma is doing there? Due to the family’s embarrassment and the bad weather, grandma was buried in a hurry, and the graveyard was on the upper right side of grandpa, without even a stele. Counting it, the tree forest in Hetang has been planted for hundreds of years. From the founding of the People’s Republic of China to the present, sixty-one Jiazi, how many personnel reincarnations, how many ups and downs have been reversed. Days are like the waterwheel in the oil mill, when it was running in the past, it has gone downhill now, and in the past, it has swayed away again. Look at this mountain farm, where the production team splits production to households, and the hands were transferred from public to private. In the 1980s, there were deforestation everywhere. Many old cedars and old pine trees on the mountain have been emptied, but the Muzi mountain field with oily seeds has been preserved like a talisman. Cold Dew Seeds, Frost’s Fall Seeds, are also using their own cruelty to reproduce silently. Think about what grandma said when she was dying, isn’t it so? The reason why we fight is actually to not fight; the reason why we die is actually to not die… Perhaps this is the ultimate meaning of supporting Hetang’s descendants? To a certain extent, the ancestors of our Hetang are all immortal, just like Mu Zilin, living in the blood domain of descendants in one breath. Ziren, which has taken off its shell, is as shiny as lacquer. Perhaps, these are the eyes of Hetang people? These eyes were swept into piles, put into baskets, carried to the oil press one by one, and finally turned into small oil flowers in vegetable soup. The zilin on the mountain bloomed again with large snow-white flowers. Muzishan, year after year, concealed all the secrets from the people of Hetang.

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