Chapter 30 Returning Home
The smoke from the cooking stove rose.
Washing up, lighting the fire, the water in the pot went from calm to ripples.
Stewing medicine, picking wild vegetables, and preparing the stove.
The house became lively when A Niang came back.
A Niang did not let her brother get up to work, so her brother sat on a chair and picked wild vegetables.
Sister Jiang Yu continued to stew yesterday's medicine in the pottery pot.
Medicine bought with money must not be wasted.
Yesterday's medicine residue was also kept, and the plan was to stew two packets of medicine residue together again, which would be equivalent to three prescriptions.
A Niang was quietly cleaning the python meat.
The reason why Jiang Mianmian knew was because A Niang did not avoid her. A Niang probably thought she was still young and didn't understand.
Then Jiang Mianmian was on A Niang's back, looking at each piece of meat with a throbbing heart.
It was cut like salmon, and she wondered how big the original body would be.
Then she saw the original body~~head.
Aaaaaaa…
Mother, kill me.
Jiang Mianmian felt that her baby's heartbeat had stopped for several times.
The baby was scared to death.
A huge, brightly colored python head, cut up nicely and placed there.
At first glance, she thought it was a dragon head.
The kind that dances like a lion during festivals… lifelike.
Aaaaaa…
This head was placed on her chopping board.
Aaaaaa, the eyes were yellow, with vertical pupils.
Didn't they say that after a snake head is chopped off, it should be prevented from biting people? If
this head bites people, it can swallow her up in one bite.
But Jiang Mianmian took a closer look and realized that it had been chopped into a work of art… It shouldn't bite people.
So scary, so scary.
She burped twice out of fright.
The baby's tender skin must have had goose bumps.
A Niang worked very hard and even hummed a song unconsciously.
Jiang Mianmian couldn't quite understand the lyrics, maybe it was a local folk song.
She probably only understood one sentence: "Fish~Silly Cat~Fat~...Fish~Silly Cat~Fat~"
I don't know if that's what it means, but the tune sounds like it.
It sounds like a song of great harvest.
I can feel that A Niang is in a good mood.
And the speed of work is so fast that it's a bit dizzy.
Jiang Mianmian, who burped twice, fell asleep to the rhythm of A Niang's work.
Before going to bed, she thought vaguely that she would definitely remember this scene when she grows up.
A-niang's back is so soft, like a boat, swaying and drifting, but she never has to worry about falling off, so she feels safe.
Dreams are sweet.
At this moment, it is evening.
The room is actually a little dark.
A woman lowered her head, holding a big knife, cutting meat without any emotion, and a huge python head with its eyes open sat there, staring coldly.
This woman is colder than the python.
Like a perverted murderer.
However, when you look closer, you can see that the reason why her body is squatting is just to make her back close to a flat slope, so that the baby on her back can sleep more soundly.
The baby's face was pressed against her back, sleeping flat, with the flesh on his face puffed up. From time to time, his mouth mumbled softly, and his breathing was very light, as if he was snoring and blowing bubbles.
She is the most ferocious hunter, but also the most gentle mother.
...
In the evening.
In the lobby of the county government, the plaque with a bright mirror hanging high was solemn and deserted.
It was already off work.
Everything was handled in the morning.
In the afternoon, generally no cases were taken.
The county government was in the center of the county, with the City God Temple on the left and the residences of some old men with deep backgrounds on the right.
The world today is not peaceful, with natural disasters and man-made disasters happening simultaneously.
Treacherous officials were in power, and the sycophants were monopolizing power.
The people were living in misery.
However, the rich have acreages of land, while the poor have no place to stand.
In a house in the westernmost corner of the county government office, there sat a man who looked like a scholar.
Various medicinal herbs were neatly arranged in the house, and each one was labeled with its name, purpose, year, and quality.
This should have been a messy house with too many things piled up.
However, it was tidied up in an orderly manner, and a wooden board was connected to the window to make it look like a table.
Piles of grass roots were stacked to form stools.
A man in a coarse cloth gown sat here. He must have sat there for a long time, and the grass roots were smoothed. The table
made of wooden boards was connected to a small wooden window, and light would come in. In such light, one could read and write.
The man's handwriting is very elegant. If you look at the words alone without looking at the content, you will be unable to help but applaud and say, "Great handwriting.
" However, these densely packed words are not poems or articles, but just the same herbs and notes.
The ink on the table is also the worst kind, which is easy to clump. You have to be more careful when writing. There is always a pungent smell, but fortunately it can be covered by the smell of medicine in the room.
The man wrote a lot of words in such a corner. If he was a scholar, he should have a writing cob in his hand, but he is not. He has a lot of cobs in his hand, which cover the writing cob.
People who are unfilial and unfraternal cannot take the imperial examination.
No one will guarantee him.
His path to study and progress was cut off many years ago.
But at that time, he didn't understand how important this matter was.
In every day that followed, he worked, repetitively, day after day, and could never see hope or the future. Not only did he have no future, but his children had no future either. He spent
his whole life doing the hardest and most tiring work, eating food that barely filled his stomach.
His whole life was worse than that of a pig or a dog.
He gradually understood. He had fought. He
had knelt down and begged for his children. When he was kicked out of the house, he didn't kneel. Later, when he had a child, he knelt down easily.
He didn't tell his wife. He knelt down and received more insults and humiliation.
It turns out that there is no gold under a man's knees. After you kneel down, others will only spit on you and then step hard on your spine, trying to bend and crush it.
Let you sink into the mud and never get up.
There will be rewards for your efforts, and you will definitely get hurt if you give your heart.
This room is small and stuffy, with only a small window and a thin light.
However, here, he read all the books he could get his hands on and read, and wrote and recorded them over and over again.
The only benefit of his job was that he could write.
He was ashamed to be the head of the family and could not provide his wife and children with enough food and clothing. He
was completely incompetent.
It was evening.
The bell of the City God Temple rang.
There would be three rings.
After three rings, those wealthy families would set out dinner.
From where he sat, he could see not far, and he could just pass through a small door. When the small door was opened, he could see the street outside and the side door of a house across the street.
The side door opens five times a day.
The number of people going in and out is limited.
His hand tapped the table lightly.
He watched the side door open and two people came out.
He stretched out his right hand, rubbed his stiff neck, and turned his head.
Then he buried his head and continued to write.
The whole room was filled with the smell of medicine.
Ink marks appeared on the paper bit by bit.
Arsenic, horse money, Chuanwu, Baifuzi, Pinellia, Arisaema, Qingniangchong, Gansui, Tenghuang, Qianjinzi, Jiaoyanghua, Hongshengdan, Toad Venom, Datura... All
medicines are three-quarters poisonous, and these medicines are extremely poisonous.
Below the prescription, there is another piece of paper, which details a person's life.
Wu Liu, who has a black mole at the corner of his eye, is good at using spikes, is five feet three inches tall, and likes to eat Hejia meat cakes at the corner of West Street. I have a lover, married, living at No. 46, West Street...
Finished.
He tore up the two pages again and crumpled them.
It was dark.
He stood up and pushed the door open.
The man walked out, his long hair draped over his shoulders, his steps soft.
He would greet everyone politely whenever he met them.
He had a good relationship with people.
"Big, big, open the door!" A few yamen runners who were gambling saw Jiang Laoer coming towards them and shouted, "Mr. Jiang, come on."
Jiang Changtian waved his hands and explained in a good-tempered manner, "My wife and children are waiting, I want to go home."
Walking out of the county government, passing by the City God Temple, the incense was prosperous. The worse the world, the more prosperous the incense.
The City God Temple was not far away, and the coming and going of people became more lively.
The woman's incense overshadowed the Buddha's incense.
"Come on, sir, come up and sit down for a
while." Jiang Changtian walked by without looking around.
Passing by a steamed bun shop, he stopped, hesitated for a moment, and bought two meat steamed buns.
Then he continued walking with the steamed buns in his pocket, and his pace slightly quickened.
The sky gradually darkened, and the trees on both sides were baring their teeth and claws.
He used to be very afraid of the dark.
His mother always locked him in the room alone, without any light, and he saw countless terrifying things in the dark room.
Later, he became a father, and he was slowly not afraid anymore.
Because the child was like a lamp, illuminating his dark heart.
He walked quickly, with wind in his ears.
Slowly, he heard the crows of chickens and the barking of dogs.
He couldn't help but smile on his face. He was
almost home.
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