Chapter 107: Lao Zhou’s Story (Part 2)
After dinner, my master and I went to Lao Zhou's house, which was not far away, only about a mile away. When we got to the front of the house, an old man came over and my master introduced him to me. He was Lao Zhou's cousin, known as Carpenter Zhou.
Carpenter Zhou said: Let the Taoist priest make the decision for me.
After entering the house, Carpenter Zhou called several of his relatives to sit down together. The master said, "Originally, the relatives should make the decision, but Brother Zhou insisted that I make the decision. Do you agree?"
Everyone said in unison, "You have such high prestige that it's hard to invite you. Since you want it, we are one hundred and twenty in favor."
Carpenter Zhou said, "Master, although your last name isn't Zhou, you hold great prestige. Your word carries weight in the local community. Furthermore, you've been friends with him for decades, and he'll remember you for his entire life. Furthermore, we have the Zhou surname, and although we have many people, we're weak. Just be bold and make the decision."
The master immediately made detailed arrangements and then said, "Where should we bury him? I've thought about it and decided to bury him in the ancestral tomb of your Zhou family."
Carpenter Zhou looked hesitant. "I wonder if Qiao Siyuan agrees. Our family has been moving out of Shaojiawan for three generations."
When I heard Qiao Siyuan and Shaojiawan, I shuddered.
The master let out a clue: "Old Zhou had already made an agreement with Qiao Siyuan before he died that when he died, he would be buried on the mountain where Qiao Siyuan lived."
Everyone said, "Isn't this good?"
The master took out his phone, hung up, and spoke a few words to Qiao Siyuan. He turned off the phone and said, "Agreed." Carpenter Zhou and the others thanked him in unison.
The master said, "Old Zhou died at 11:00 AM last night. We should set out to look for a site at 3:00 PM. When the time comes, Old Zhou will come to urge me. I will also prepare a packet of firecrackers. Also, prepare incense sticks, paper money, candles, and a plate of rice."
After saying that, he took me back to Youranju.
After entering and sitting down, I looked hesitant and asked, "Master, should I go?"
He looked bewildered. "Why, you're asking that? I'm going to do my best to find a good place for Old Zhou to sleep. You check the computer, and I'll take his pulse. We'll come to a conclusion based on what we've learned."
My face turned pale, and I briefly recounted how I met Qiao Siyuan, how I chose a cemetery for Shao Youxiang's family, and how Director Zhang introduced me to him.
The master said, "Oh," "It's really a bit embarrassing if you go."
At this moment, my face turned pale and red: "Master, actually, we don't need to choose a cemetery."
I reserved the part about the big bird landing on the tree for the present moment. Then, I recounted the adventure in detail and told my master that the big tree was easy to find, for it was the tallest tree on the hill where Qiao Siyuan lived.
The master thought for a moment and said, "We can't cut down the tree. Qiao Siyuan might get angry, so we should bury him at the foot of the tree. According to Feng Shui, as long as it's on that vein, it's a good place to learn. This way, we can be worthy of Old Zhou and our heroic son who saved others."
After that, he called Carpenter Zhou again and said, "Send a relative who understands Old Zhou's situation to my place."
After a while, an old man came over.
The master said to the old man, "I've agreed with you guys. We won't have any rituals with monks or Taoist priests. We'll just hold a memorial service and have everyone talk about Old Zhou. I'm going to write a longer article for you to read. You tell Shanhong about Old Zhou's history, and she'll write it."
The master went about his business. The old man sat down and told me about Lao Zhou's life.
I then realized that there are extraordinary things among ordinary people.
Generally speaking, Lao Zhou's grandfather's generation has made a living by cutting hair. By the time his father took over, he had become famous for his barbering skills. Around the 1930s, a Kuomintang army was stationed here.
One day, a soldier came to get a haircut. His father touched the back of the soldier's head and asked, "Are you a battalion commander?" The battalion commander was surprised and asked, "How did you know I was a battalion commander?"
His father said, "I can feel bones. I can feel the bones on the back of your head and tell you. And you will eventually become a military commander."
The battalion commander laughed and said: When you become the army commander, I will give you a load of silver dollars.
His father said: "Do you keep your word? Then write a note."
The battalion commander was just joking, saying, "Just write a note." After getting his hair cut, he actually wrote a note.
After the victory of the Anti-Japanese War, one day, someone came to visit his father. His father didn't recognize the person. The person said, "Give me the note." His father suddenly realized what was going on. It turned out that the battalion commander had made great contributions to the Anti-Japanese War and was now a real army commander. The silver dollars were fake, but the silver dollars he had given were real.
His father used these silver dollars, plus his own savings, to buy 20 mu of land. After 1949, he was labeled a landlord. A poor peasant next door reported the army commander's gift of silver dollars to the government. Consequently, his father was labeled a "tyrannical landlord colluding with reactionary warlords" and executed.
From then on, Lao Zhou lived a miserable life. He married at the age of 40, a wife four years his senior. Fortunately, they had a son, and the father and son continued to make a living as barbers. Later, his son died saving someone, and his business declined, leaving him even more dejected.
Thanks to the Taoist priest's advice, he lived a few more years of prosperity, but then suffered a stroke. In short, Old Zhou's life was filled with misfortune. This was also a foreshadowing laid by his father. If he had not touched that bone and said that word, he would have lived a peaceful life.
After listening to it, I asked, "Does Lao Zhou know how to touch bones?"
The old man nodded. "Of course I would touch it, but because touching bones has caused generations of people to suffer, he is very taboo about this topic. If others ask about it, his face will suddenly darken.
After the old man finished, I asked a few more questions, and he repeated his story in detail. I told him to get back to work. I sat there, sorting out my thoughts, placed a "No visitors" sign on the living room table, and went to the study to think.
After thinking for half an hour, I started writing. As soon as I started writing, I couldn't stop. My ideas flowed like a flood, and I wrote the draft in one go:
On April 24, 20XX, at the hour of the morning, the magnificent Duke of Zhou suddenly passed away. The small town wept, the spring river sobbed. I recall Duke of Zhou, born in a time of war, wandering as a young man, hiding from place to place. I recall Duke of Zhou growing up under the red flag, his father dead and his mother returning, leaving him alone. Then, in his later years, Duke of Zhou found a wife and then a son, only to find his joy was in vain. Having lost his son and his daughter-in-law, a Taoist priest offered advice, hoping for a resurgence, but a stroke forced him to give up once again. I remember Duke of Zhou, struggling repeatedly, only to be defeated. A life of joy and sorrow, all in a dream...
I was writing enthusiastically when Director Ming called and said:
"Master Shanhong, I have some exciting news to share with you—today is the first day of the project's implementation. Director Zhang and I drove up and down the mountain to inspect everything. It's like a line from a poem: The landscape is picturesque, untouched by a speck of dust. I'm so happy, truly, incredibly happy..."
I hung up before I finished listening. Then I wrote:
Why dwell on worldly affairs? Some weep, some rejoice. Plants and trees seem to go through spring and autumn, withering and flourishing, who is immune? But if I could leave this world with its fragrance, I could rest in peace in the sacred mountains...
After finishing writing, I called Director Ming:
"My phone just ran out of power. I'll come to celebrate in person tomorrow. Chairman Song will also come with me to discuss how to run the meeting."
He said quickly, "Okay, okay, let's have a few drinks and have some fun."
I said calmly, "I've quit drinking."
He asked, "I'm going to drink with you, so you quit drinking. What's the matter?"
I said, "After seven days of abstinence, I got pregnant."
He laughed heartily: "How humorous! No wonder Zhao Benben didn't appear on the Spring Festival Gala. He must be afraid of you."
After I hung up the phone, I felt like I was pregnant. My stomach felt bloated and full of bitterness. My face felt cold and my mouth was salty.
It turned out that a line of tears slid across my face, wetting my mood for twenty-five years.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
