Chapter 604: Lively Back Mountain
Zhou Yimin moved the kerosene lamp closer, and the dim light immediately enveloped the two ginsengs on the table.
He hovered his fingers above the dark red ginseng roots and examined them carefully as if he were appreciating an antique.
The fine spiral patterns on the main root are clearly visible, the stem marks on the reed head are arranged in an orderly manner, and even the forks at the ends of the ginseng roots exude a natural aura, emitting a warm luster under the flickering light.
He used tweezers to gently push away the stuck ginseng roots, and after confirming that there were no signs of breakage or insect bites, he finally breathed a sigh of relief - this was indeed high-quality wild ginseng.
He turned around and dragged out a metal box from the bottom of the wooden cabinet in the inner room. He lifted the layers of oil paper and neatly stacked the glossy pickled bacon.
Zhou Yimin took out the largest one. The hemp rope made a rustling sound as it passed through the skin, and a salty and fragrant aroma immediately filled the room.
He put the meat on the beam balance, and the weight slid slowly on the beam and finally stopped steadily at a certain scale.
"Da Hu, weigh it. If there is no problem, we'll be even." Zhou Yimin handed over the scale bar, and the metal hook glowed coldly under the light.
The north wind outside the window suddenly became strong, making the window paper rustle, but it could not cover up Zhou Dahu's rapid breathing.
Zhou Dahu stared at the pile of bacon on the chopping board, his Adam's apple rolling up and down.
It weighed about five or six kilograms, two or three times more than he expected.
"No need, Uncle Sixteen, I believe you." His voice trembled and he reached out to take the meat hurriedly. His rough fingers touched the oil paper which was still warm, and he suddenly felt his eyes getting hot.
The ginseng hidden in the inner pocket of his cotton-padded jacket had long since disappeared, but the heavy flesh now made his chest feel full and secure.
Zhou Dahu's only thought now was to take the meat back to nourish his wife.
"Be careful on the road." Zhou Yimin watched the young man holding the meat tightly in his arms and walking out the door as if he was protecting a rare treasure.
The moonlight poured in through the door frame, casting a long shadow behind Zhou Dahu. That shadow, along with the oily aroma of bacon and the medicinal fragrance of ginseng, blended into the quiet winter night in Liangjiazhuang.
The copper hookah made a dull sound as it struck the Eight Immortals Table. The old man's cloudy eyes were fixed on the red silk cloth spread out by Zhou Yimin.
Three ginseng plants were curled up between the silk and satin, their dark red roots spread out like coral branches, emitting a warm glow under the kerosene lamp.
His hands covered with age spots unconsciously stroked the armrests of the rattan chair, and his Adam's apple rolled under the loose skin, like an old bee guarding a honey pot.
"Grandpa, do you want it?" Zhou Yimin followed the old man's gaze and suddenly laughed out loud.
The old man's thoughts were exposed, and the corners of his dry mouth twitched, like an old cat whose tail was stepped on.
He turned the pipe twice in his palm, and finally slammed it heavily on the blue brick floor, shaking off a few sparks: "You little bastard, why are you asking so many questions!"
"Grandpa, what are you going to do with it?" Zhou Yimin deliberately lengthened his tone and swirled his fingertips around the ginseng whiskers.
"You don't want to use it to hang out in a bar?" Before he could finish his words, the old man choked and coughed so hard that the wall peeled off.
He spit the turbid phlegm into the enamel basin, wiped his mouth, and pointed at his grandson's nose with his cracked fingers: "You kid, why is your stomach full of roundworms!"
Zhou Yimin's grandmother said at this time: "Even if Yimin didn't say it, I can guess that you only have those few hobbies."
The old man smiled awkwardly: "Yimin, just tell me if it's okay or not!"
Zhou Yimin looked at the three ginseng plants arranged on the silk.
The largest one has a full reed head, with lines on it like growth rings carved by time; the other two are slightly thinner, but also intact.
Thinking of Zhou Dahu's hard work digging ginseng in the snow, and glimpsing the old man's anxious look as he stroked his pipe, he sighed inwardly: "Okay, but only one can be used!"
"Okay! Okay!" The old man immediately perked up, and his skinny fingers reached for the ginseng anxiously, but suddenly stopped when he touched the ginseng whiskers.
There was a hint of hesitation in his cloudy eyes, and he finally picked up the thinnest one, like holding fragile glass: "This one, this one"
The kerosene lamp suddenly burst into sparks, illuminating the gap of his teeth at the corner of his grinning mouth. His wrinkles were filled with smiles, as if he could already smell the aroma of medicine wafting from the wine jar for the coming year.
Zhou Yimin said at this time: "Grandpa, why are you in such a hurry? I'll go get some wine in a couple of days and soak it directly!"
The old man thought that with the current food shortage, there was no extra food to make wine, so he could only get wine from Zhou Yimin.
Zhou Dahu ran home in the cold wind. The bacon in his arms was slightly softened by his body temperature. The aroma of oil seeped through the oil paper, and was particularly tempting in the cold air.
When I pushed open the door, the wooden hinge made a harsh squeak. Under the dim kerosene lamp, my wife was sitting on the kang, sewing shoe soles. Her big belly cast a swaying shadow on the wall.
"Why did you come back just now?" His wife looked up and saw the snow on his shoulders and his red face, and her tone was filled with anger.
Zhou Dahu didn't bother to reply, and rushed to the stove in two steps, lifted the lid and added water to the pot. The flames licked the bottom of the pot, making his eyes shine: "Wife, light the fire quickly! We'll have meat tonight!"
The wife was stunned, and the sole of the shoe in her hand fell to the kang with a thud. She stared at the oil paper bag her husband took out from his arms, and saw the pork belly after opening the layers, and her eyes instantly turned red.
"Where did the meat come from? It can't be..." Before she finished speaking, Zhou Dahu had already pressed her on the small stool in front of the stove and rolled up his sleeves to cut the meat: "Uncle Sixteen gave it to you, so you can eat it with confidence!"
Zhou Dahu's wife held the chipped ceramic bowl in her hand. Her knuckles turned white from the force and the edge of the bowl left a deep red mark on her palm.
Under the dim kerosene lamp, the pork belly on the chopping board was shiny and oily, with the fat trembling and a thin layer of white frost condensing in the cold air.
She took a half step forward, nearly dropping the bowl from her hands, and her voice trembled uncontrollably: "Da Hu! This, this must be ten pounds, right? How could Uncle Sixteen be willing to give so much meat?!"
She swallowed in a dry sound in her throat, and under her eyelids swollen from pregnancy, her eyes were fixed on the piece of meat, as if it was a treasure that could save her life.
She staggered and held onto the stove, her coarse apron rubbing against the spatula, making a clinking sound. "Could it be... that you got into some trouble?"
Zhou Dahu stomped on the snow on his feet, and his cotton shoes left dark marks on the muddy ground.
He looked at his wife's bulging belly and recalled the ecstasy he felt when he dug ginseng in the snow. He felt warm in his heart: "I found ginseng in the back mountain. All this meat was exchanged for ginseng."
As he spoke, he took out half a piece of oil paper that had been used to wrap the meat from the inner pocket of his cotton-padded jacket. There was still some fresh dirt on it.
The wife's tense shoulders suddenly relaxed, and the clay bowl hit the edge of the stove with a crisp sound.
Her fingers tightly grasped the front of her husband's cotton-padded jacket, and her voice was filled with tears: "Oh my God! It was exchanged for ginseng... You scared me to death!"
Hot tears fell on the back of Zhou Dahu's hand. She reached out and touched her husband's cracked cheek. Her fingertips rubbed the frostbite with thin scabs. She felt very distressed: "Does your hand still hurt?"
After saying that, he put Zhou Dahu's hand in his arms to keep it warm.
Zhou Dahu squatted down and gently placed his rough palm on his wife's bulging belly, from which he could feel the faint movement of the fetus.
The twelve pounds of meat in the ceramic basin were glowing with an enticing sheen, which intertwined with the dim kerosene light in the house to form a warm halo.
"Wife, with these twelve pounds of meat, I believe you will have enough nutrition during your pregnancy." His voice was low and firm, and the white breath he exhaled condensed into tiny mist beads between the two of them.
The wife was stirring the batter in a chipped ceramic bowl. When she heard the words, her hand shook violently and the wooden spoon hit the edge of the bowl with a crisp sound.
She looked at her husband in disbelief. In the dim light, the chilblains on Zhou Dahu's cheeks were purple and red, and the shoulders of his cotton-padded jacket were still stained with mud from digging ginseng.
In this woman's opinion, the best food should always be put into men's stomachs.
Take Aunt Wang next door for example, she always says: "Men are the backbone of the family. Only when they are well fed can they hold up the sky."
Whenever there is something delicious at home, I give it to my husband first, and I just eat the leftovers.
"Da Hu, you should eat this meat." She put down the bowl in a hurry, twisting her faded apron with her rough fingers.
"You go into the mountains before dawn, and you need nutrition more than I do."
Before he finished speaking, Zhou Dahu suddenly reached out and pressed the back of her cold hand. The warmth from his palm seeped through the rough cloth and said, "Nonsense! The baby in your belly is the lifeblood of our family!"
The wife's eyes instantly turned red, and hot tears fell on the backs of their crossed hands.
She thought of Qiaozhen in the village who went to the fields right after giving birth, and her sister-in-law who had developed a disease from drinking only porridge during her confinement. Her throat tightened, "Women are not that delicate."
Before she finished her words, Zhou Dahu had already broken off a piece of fat and lean bacon and stuffed it into her palm: "You should be squeamish in front of me!"
Zhou Dahu's wife could no longer hold back the tears in her eyes and they flowed out. She was very glad that she had chosen a good husband.
The cold wind howled outside the window, hitting the window frames covered with newspapers, but the temperature inside the house was hotter than the fire.
The next day, when the wooden door of Zhou Dahu's adobe house was slammed loudly, the bacon in the pot was bubbling with oil.
The steaming aroma mixed with the smell of firewood seeped out from the crack in the door, causing the villagers surrounding the yard to tighten their throats.
Aunt Li stood on tiptoe and clung to the broken fence. In her bamboo basket was half a steamed bread mixed with bran. "Daughter-in-law Dahu, I heard that your family exchanged more than ten kilograms of meat?"
Before he finished speaking, Wang Quezi squeezed to the front row with his cane, knocking his pipe against the door frame: "Brother Dahu, tell me the truth, how did you find the ginseng?"
Zhou Dahu came out from behind the stove, wiping his apron, and saw that the yard was crowded with people.
The winter sun shines obliquely on everyone's faces, with envy, eagerness, and more of a desire that cannot be concealed.
He rubbed the oil stains on his hands and turned the bamboo pipe twice in his palm: "It's next to the old pine forest on the back mountain, next to the dry bushes on the cliff."
These words were like a firecracker exploding. The crowd was silent at first, then burst into a buzz of discussion.
Old man Zhao didn't even bother to pick up his pipe that fell to the ground, and ran out of the village pulling his grandson; Zhang's daughter-in-law stuffed the crying baby in her arms into her mother-in-law's arms, and stumbled forward on the icy stone road.
In less than half a cup of tea, the dirt road was filled with hurried figures, patches on cotton jackets fluttering in the cold wind, startling the crows on the old locust tree at the entrance of the village.
The silence of the back mountain was completely broken. The sound of shovels digging into the frozen soil, the sound of dead branches breaking, and the sound of shouting echoed in the valley.
Some people were lying on the snow digging up dry grass, their frozen red fingers were scratched by thorns and bleeding; some people were digging with hoes, and the snow mixed with soil was blown up into the air.
The desolate corners that used to be only home to the footprints of wild animals were now crowded with villagers breathing out white air and searching with their heads down. Even the steepest crevices on the cliff were being climbed up and explored, as if every inch of land contained treasures that could change their destiny.
The fierce north wind blew snow particles across the cliff, tearing the sound of pine waves in the back mountain into pieces.
Men, women, young and old in Zhoujiazhuang, wrapped in bulky cotton-padded jackets, scattered among the woods, and the white air they exhaled instantly condensed into frost flowers.
Old man Zhao was leaning on a jujube wood crutch, squinting his cloudy eyes and scanning the ground inch by inch. His cracked fingers were rummaging in the pile of dry grass, and his coarse cloth gloves were soon covered with mud and snow.
The Zhang kid simply knelt on the ground, digging through layers of snow. His red, frozen nose was almost touching the frozen soil, and the hot air he exhaled formed a white mist on the ice surface.
"There's a pit here!" A shout suddenly broke out from the crowd.
More than a dozen figures rushed over immediately, and the shovels and hoes made a dense sound as they struck the frozen soil.
When they dug half a foot deep and revealed only half a rotten wood, everyone sighed in disappointment.
The cold wind took the opportunity to blow into collars. Some people shivered and wrapped their patched scarves tightly.
The sun was setting, and the shadows were growing longer and longer in the woods.
Aunt Li's bamboo basket contained only a few broken branches. She stamped her numb feet and looked at her husband who was still wandering on the edge of the cliff in the distance: "Dad, come home! This wind is blowing through my bones!"
Before he finished speaking, a child's cry was heard in the distance - the Wang family's grandson slipped between the rocks and his forehead was bleeding.
The crying sound was like a thorn, piercing everyone's tense nerves.
As dusk spread over the ridge, the crowd began to walk back in small groups.
Some people kicked the stones on the roadside dejectedly, and the sound of shovels colliding echoed in the empty valley. Some people were still unwilling to give up and looked back every three steps, and their cotton shoes left long traces on the snow.
The cold wind blew over the messy footprints they made and soon covered everything with new snow.
The back mountain returned to silence again, with only a few stubborn pine branches swaying in the wind, as if mocking this futile frenzy.
The dusk was as dark as ink, gradually seeping into every inch of the back mountain.
Everyone in Zhoujiazhuang dragged their exhausted bodies back. The clinking sounds of shovels and hoes, mixed with heavy breathing, echoed in the cold air.
The fire in Old Man Zhao's pipe had gone out long ago, but at this moment he was tapping it again and again on his palm in annoyance, and the sparks splashed onto the frosty dry grass and disappeared in an instant.
"This is weird!" Zhang's second daughter-in-law was the first to break the silence. The bamboo basket in her arms was empty, with a few strips of cloth torn by thorns hanging on the edge.
"We dug for a whole day and searched every crack in the rocks, but we didn't find even a single ginseng root!" These words were like a stone thrown into a deep pool, immediately causing a thousand waves.
There were echoes from the crowd, and the cold wind carried the discussions, swirling among the bare branches.
Wang Quezi leaned on his crutches and slammed his cane heavily on the icy stone road: "I told you! Dahu looks honest, but he might be hiding something!"
His cloudy eyes swept over the crowd, "So many people dug three feet underground and couldn't find it, could it be the place he was talking about?"
This made the eyes of several people who were still skeptical instantly red. Aunt Li clenched her frozen hands and complained in her voice: "That's right! If we were really in the old pine forest, how could we not even see a shadow?"
The more they talked, the more excited they became, and their pace unconsciously slowed down.
When the moonlight climbed up to the treetops, the team stopped completely under the old locust tree at the entrance of the village. The shadow of the tree danced on the snow, as if responding to everyone's suspicion.
Some people began to count on their fingers: "The mountain behind is so small. Even if it is hidden deep, with so many people searching it thoroughly, there should be some clues."
(End of this chapter)
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