Chapter 19: Jujube tree bark can be used as medicine
The musty smell from the camphorwood box, wrapped in the old times, blew towards her. Xu Yao knelt on the blue brick floor, her fingertips stroking the damp corners of the blue cover notebook.
The twilight that filtered in through the window just happened to cover the IOU. The crooked “twenty pounds” of the third sister looked like a coiled centipede, with dried wild rose petals curled up at the corner of the paper, and brown marks stained with an indescribable darkness. "Yao'er, there is a key under the enamel jar." Xu's mother groped her way into the door frame, her gray pupils reflecting the skylight. "Your father said that the old account books of the grain station are hidden in the mezzanine of the chest of drawers." Before she finished speaking, Xu's father's heart-wrenching cough came from outside, shaking the old newspapers pasted on the wall.
Xu Yao hurriedly tried to get up, but her mother's withered hand held her back: "Let your father cough, and cough until he feels better." The old woman's calloused palm rested against the back of her hand, "That year when you had a high fever, your father went to the health center to ask for medicine in the heavy rain, and fell into a mud ditch and got the root of the disease..."
He changed his tone midway through his words, his trembling fingertips suddenly touching the jagged edges of the IOU, "This paper was cut from the supply and marketing cooperative's account book, I can feel the texture."
The dark red chest of drawers creaked, and old food coupons fell like snowflakes.
Xu Yao suddenly stopped - the red hairband at the bottom of the food coupons was clearly tied with two faded copper bells.
This was a birthday gift for her when she was seven years old. Her father used half a month's work points to buy her this gift. Later, the gift was snatched away and lost by the boy from her third sister's family.
"That month when my third sister borrowed food..."
Father Xu's hoarse voice came from behind the door curtain, "She came to our house holding a feverish pillar and said your uncle Xue brought some antipyretic medicine from the army..."
The end of his words was crushed by a violent cough, but Xu Yao felt as if he had been hit on the top of his head.
That year, her family’s granary was empty, and her mother was so hungry that she had to eat elm bark, but her father said that life-saving medicine was more valuable than food.
Before the morning mist dissipated, Xu Yao went to the west end of the village holding the IOU.
The wild roses that poked out from the wall of my third sister's house were in full bloom, their rose-red petals covered with dew, strangely overlapping with the dried one on the IOU.
She was squatting behind a jujube tree counting the locks of the granary when she suddenly heard the crisp sound of a clay pot falling to the ground.
"Isn't this the girl from the Xu family?" Villager A came over carrying a urine bucket, his eyes glued to the blue notebook in her hand. "It's only been a few days since the Sun family broke off the engagement, and they're already targeting the widow again?" Several villagers who had gotten up early to pick up manure immediately formed a semicircle, and their manure forks drew crooked arcs on the yellow earth.
The wooden door of my third sister's house creaked and cracked, and a deflated bran cake rolled out.
Xu Yao stared at the clear shoe prints on the cake and suddenly remembered the bran crumbs on Xue Han's pants last night.
Just as she was about to speak, her third sister rushed out wearing a blue cloth shirt with patches on patches, and there were grass clippings in her dry yellow hair.
"Everyone, give your opinion!"
The third sister sat on the millstone, slapped her thighs and howled, "The Xu family relies on having a neighbor who is a soldier to force us, an orphan and a widow, to death!"
She suddenly ripped open her clothes, revealing the hideous burn scar under her collarbone, "Back then, in order to save Uncle Xu, my Zhuzi's father..."
Xu Yao suddenly smelled the scent of new wheat wafting from her third sister's cuffs. This smell shouldn't appear in May, when there is a shortage of food.
Her eyes swept across the old dust from the granary that stained the other person's trouser legs, and suddenly she caught a glimpse of a half-bulged sack in the crack of the door - it was clearly a thickened canvas bag specially supplied by the commune, with the vague red words "war preparedness" printed on the edge.
"On the 23rd day of the twelfth lunar month last year, my third sister said that the relief grain distributed by the commune was destroyed by stray dogs."
Xu Yao held up the IOU, the dried flowers on the corner of the paper trembling in the morning breeze, "But the bacon hanging on the beam of your house smells like freshly rubbed salt."
The crowd of onlookers burst into a buzzing noise, and Villager B's dung fork clanged and hit the millstone: "Xu girl, what you said makes sense! Third sister's family even gave Zhuzi a new pair of cotton shoes yesterday!"
The third sister's wailing suddenly stopped. She jumped off the millstone barefoot, her muddy nails almost poking Xu Yao's nose. "When your father was dying, who carried him to the clinic in the middle of the night? When your mother was blind, who helped her sew the soles of her shoes?"
She suddenly laughed strangely and took out an oil-paper bag from her bosom. "There is still half a piece of brown sugar left from Comrade Xue. Do you want to confront him face to face?"
Xu Yao felt a buzzing in her ears, and she vaguely saw herself in her previous life kneeling in front of her third sister's door begging for medicine.
At that time, she could not see the grain book hidden under the brown sugar bag, nor could she see the kerosene ticket that Sun Zhiqiang secretly stuffed into her third sister's stove.
The thorn of the wild rose suddenly pierced her palm. She stumbled back, bumping into the jujube tree, causing it to drop a shower of green fruits.
As dusk spread over the earthen wall, Xu Yao walked home clutching half of the torn IOU.
The saliva splashed by my third sister when she was throwing a tantrum dried up on the paper into strange lines, which looked very much like the blood spots on the handkerchief when my father coughed.
When passing by the wall of Xue Han's house, she looked up as if possessed by a ghost - in the crack of the wall where the jujube branches were inserted last night, there was now a wooden carved sparrow lying quietly, its cinnabar-dotted beak facing the direction of the granary of her third sister's house.
Suddenly, there was the sound of boots crushing dead branches at the base of the broken wall.
As the last ray of dusk sank into the branches of the jujube tree, Xu Yao heard the crisp sound of military boots crushing dead branches behind her.
She turned around holding the torn IOU, and ran into Xue Han coming out from behind the broken wall. The hem of his military uniform was stained with half a cicada shell, which glowed amber in the evening breeze.
"Date tree bark can be used as medicine." He suddenly spoke, and his angular jawline was sharpened even more by the shadow.
Seeing Xu Yao stunned, he took out a neatly folded handkerchief from his trouser pocket and said, "Wipe your hands. The wound should be festering."
Only then did Xu Yao realize that there was a wild rose thorn embedded in her palm.
The handkerchief had a faint smell of camphor, and there were faded five-pointed stars embroidered on the corners. The stitching was crooked and looked like a child's handwriting.
She was about to refuse when Xue Han squatted down and poured cold water from the military kettle on the wound, causing her to gasp.
"The third lock of the granary." He suddenly said, drawing three arcs with his fingers on the blue brick floor, "It's made of brass, and there's a red hairband wrapped around the tassel." Xu Yao looked up suddenly, and met the flickering fire in front of his eyes - the light from the Xu family's kitchen shone through the window paper, burning warm spots of light in his pupils.
As Xu's father coughed, Xue Han took out an oil-paper bag from the inner pocket of his military uniform.
After peeling off the three layers of moisture-proof paper, it turned out to be a yellowed grain station handover record book. "The war reserve warehouse is under maintenance in March." He pointed his finger at a vague seal. "The only people who are registered with the canvas bag are the commune secretary and..."
Before he finished speaking, the sound of a clay pot breaking was heard from outside.
Xu Yao lifted the door curtain and saw her mother squatting on the ground gropingly picking up porcelain pieces, her gray pupils reflecting the moonlight on the ground.
Xue Han had already strode over, deftly pushing aside the broken porcelain with the tip of his military boots, and took out an enamel pot from behind the stove: "Auntie, drink some water to calm your breath."
Xu Yao looked at his straight back and suddenly remembered the stormy night in her previous life.
She held her daughter who had a high fever and knocked on the door of the clinic. It was Xue Han's duty room where the kerosene lamp was lit.
The mottled glass windows of the convenience store were still stained with last night's dew. When Xu Yao pushed the door, the copper bell startled the sparrows under the eaves.
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