The village of Zhaojiazhuang was formed during the generation of Zhao Luochuan's great-grandfather. It was here that poor families who had suffered from natural disasters and had nowhere to go fled.
The senior officials in the government gave them a place to stay and distributed land, allowing them to settle down here.
Great-grandfather Zhao Luochuan came late. When he settled here, all the better land around had been divided up, leaving only some barren land that was not enough to support his family.
Great-grandfather had no choice but to go up the mountain and become a hunter.
Therefore, people here do not have the concept of ancestral tombs. When an elderly person dies, those who have land will bury him directly on their own land. Some people will choose to bury him on the mountain, saying that it has good feng shui.
The Zhao family had no land, so they could only bury their dead on the hillside. Zhao Luochuan's mother was buried with his father halfway up the hill behind their house.
Yang Donghu had climbed the mountain several times and no longer felt the weakness he did the first time, and could keep up with Zhao Luochuan.
He saw a grave mound not far away from a distance. When he got closer, he saw the words "Tomb of my father Zhao Hai, Tomb of my mother Xu Lianyi" engraved on the tombstone.
I think this is it.
Sure enough, Zhao Luochuan put down the things he had brought with him and first scooped up a few handfuls of new soil from the nearby grave mound and filled it on the grave mound. Before coming to worship, one must first repair the grave to make the ancestors live more comfortably underground.
After repairing the grave, he swept away the fallen leaves next to the tombstone.
When they set off, Zhu Cuilan made a bowl of dumplings for them to take with them and use when offering sacrifices.
Zhao Luochuan neatly arranged the cakes, dumplings and wine he had bought, lit two incense sticks, used the incense sticks to light the brazier, and placed it in front of him. Then he knelt on his knees with his upper body straight.
Yang Donghu knelt down beside him and threw incense paper into the brazier.
"Mom and Dad, I'm married and brought my new husband to see you. Don't worry, I'm doing fine. Today I brought a lot of your favorite food, and I even made some dumplings for you to try." After saying that, Zhao Luochuan kowtowed three times to the ground.
Yang Donghu followed Zhao Luochuan's example and knelt down properly, kowtowed three times, and said in a slightly nervous voice, "Dad and Mom, I'm here to see you."
Zhao Luochuan held his hand, and the warmth in his palm gave Yang Donghu a sense of security.
"Mom and Dad, this is my husband, Dong Hu. He's a very good man. I brought him to you today so you can put your minds at ease. Your son is capable now and has made quite a bit of money. I'm bringing some paper money for you so you don't mistreat yourselves."
After Zhao Luochuan finished speaking, he bowed again and added another sentence in his heart: Dad and Mom, please bless your son and Donghu to live together for a long time, and wish him peace and happiness.
Yang Donghu also bowed, with his mouth tightly closed, and silently said in his heart: Please rest assured to leave your son to me. I will definitely treat you sincerely. If I fail you, God will punish me.
In the past, Yang Donghu was a materialist and did not really believe in ghosts and gods, but now the idea of time travel was bizarre enough that he could not help but believe it.
Before the two left, Yang Donghu placed a snow bell flower picked from the roadside in front of the tomb. The petals of the snow bell flower were almost pure white, with only the stamens revealing dots of tender green.
“I hope you like it.”
After Yang Donghu finished speaking, he took two quick steps to catch up with Zhao Luochuan.
On the way back, large flakes of snow suddenly fell from the sky, and in an instant, a thin layer of snow accumulated on the ground.
The two of them quickened their pace, seeing that the snow wasn't going to stop any time soon. If they delayed for too long, their clothes would get soaked and they would be freezing.
In the kitchen, there is a simmering chicken soup that was put into the casserole in the morning, served with dried wild mushrooms. The soup is rich and fragrant with mushrooms, and it is just right to drink it now.
The two of them rubbed their hands and gathered around the stove. Yang Donghu poured a bowl of soup and handed it to Zhao Luochuan, asking him to warm his hands first.
It was snowing outside, so the two of them ate directly in the kitchen, saving themselves the trouble of running back to the main room. After a bowl of soup, the chill in their bodies was mostly dispelled, and they were no longer shivering from the cold.
Zhao Luochuan finished the entire bowl of soup in one gulp and put it down. His eyes slowly drifted to Yang Donghu's lips, which were slightly red from the scalding soup. He couldn't help but lick the corner of his mouth, and that familiar feeling returned.
The gaze from the side was too direct to ignore. Yang Donghu looked back at him and asked, "Is there something on my face?"
Zhao Luochuan was caught red-handed and immediately looked away. He was usually fluent in his speech, but now he stuttered: "No, no."
His face flushed slightly, and he looked at his toes. "It's too cold today, so let's not bother making any other food. I see the vegetables in the field have grown, so let's pick them up and boil them in chicken soup."
"Okay, I'll go then."
"No need, just sit here, I'll go." Zhao Luochuan strode out of the kitchen, his steps a little hurried.
Yang Donghu watched him walk out with unnatural hands and feet, smiled and shook his head, took the casserole off the stove, and added a few more pieces of charcoal into it.
The vegetable patch was right in the yard, so picking the vegetables was not difficult. Zhao Luochuan only picked a little bit. It was convenient since it was close by. He could pick more if it was not enough.
Buried underground in the southeast corner of the courtyard was the wine Zhao Hai had brewed before his death. When he was young, he loved drinking and brewing wine, and even learned how to brew fruit wine from a winemaker for Zhao Luochuan's mother.
His father brewed a lot of tea at that time and buried it all underground. Zhao Luochuan would dig up a jar every year and bring it to his mother's grave.
The older the wine is, the more mellow it becomes. The fruit wine brewed by Zhao Hai has a strong fruity flavor and does not irritate the throat like white wine. The few jars left now are at least four years old.
Zhao Luochuan dug out a jar of pomegranate wine and returned to the kitchen along with the freshly picked vegetables.
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