Thousands of Boats Float Along the Narrow Jin River (Part 3)
Meng Shizhuang held her breath, gritted her teeth, and slowly straightened up. She felt all the blood rushing to her face, her waist and legs swaying weakly back and forth, and a buzzing sound filled her ears. The people around her dropped their lazy, mocking attitudes and stared at this "bean sprout" in astonishment. Then they saw Meng Shizhuang shake it a few more times before finally letting the goods go, and she stood there, covering her head, trying to recover.
The big man who had just tried to remind him said, "How can you do this?"
He flung the sweat towel from his shoulder, and without another word, he walked over and pressed Meng Shizhuang's shoulder. Meng Shizhuang immediately shrugged, trying to shake off the hand of the stranger who had casually touched him with unknown intentions. He shrugged twice, but not only did he fail to shake it off, the other party also didn't understand what he meant.
The big man didn't care about Meng Shizhuang's little movements and unfriendly eyes. He moved his body around and kicked his legs apart. "Don't bend your waist, otherwise it will be difficult for you to straighten up!" Then he let out a long breath, lifted the bag of goods that even an adult man had difficulty lifting, and half-lifted it and put it on Meng Shizhuang's shoulder.
Meng Shizhuang's knees bent slightly, his body feeling like it was being nailed to the ground again, but it was better than before—his head wasn't dizzy, and he could still see the road clearly. He gritted his teeth and continued to move forward, step by step. The sunlight gradually shifted away from his feet. He staggered down from the dock carrying the goods, and countless people stared at him in astonishment.
If I hadn't been able to see his face, this heavy package would have looked like it was being supported by two chopsticks.
When the goods were unloaded, Meng Shizhuang raised his head and numbly wiped the sweat off his face.
It’s hard to say which one is more tiring than being beaten.
But Meng Shizhuang had no time to think. The sun was setting too quickly, and from a distance he could see the apprentices in the pharmacy rushing to pack up their stalls.
Without even taking a breath, he walked towards the dock again.
But it was surprising that he could carry the goods with his size, so his unloading speed was certainly not very fast. It was not until the supervisor impatiently knocked a copper coin in front of him that he looked at the dark river surface and realized that he had only walked back and forth three times in such a long time.
The supervisor fumbled around and pulled out six copper coins: "Here, kid, go buy a big white steamed bun."
Meng Shizhuang didn't respond, but just grabbed the copper coins and walked away. When he reached the pharmacy, he weighed the light silver coins in his palm and was about to leave again when someone called out to him, "Hey! Don't you want to buy medicine?"
Meng Shizhuang turned around with a sullen face.
For some reason, his mind was filled with Lao Ju's words, "How dare I take ill-gotten gains?" He gripped the copper coins tighter. He knew the medicine the man was handing him: one dose cost fifty copper coins, and Lao Ju only needed one every three days. He used to give away "ill-gotten gains" without a care in the world; those coins felt so light and airy—fifty copper coins, less than the six in his hand.
It turns out that silver and money are not considered heavy just because they are weighed.
Meng Shizhuang was feeling depressed, so depressed that he didn't feel tired. He rubbed his chest with his hand and said simply, "I'll buy it tomorrow."
The old doctor chuckled softly, unable to detect any emotion. He raised his hand and handed the medicine forward, "Let's have it today. I'll give you credit."
Meng Shizhuang slowly raised her head.
On credit?
He thought about it for a moment and realized that this meant he had to pay it back.
He spread out his palm and counted out the copper coins one by one. He was neither as unwilling nor as carefree as before.
The old doctor was not in a hurry and waited for him to say goodbye to these copper coins.
Before the money and goods were exchanged, Meng Shizhuang hesitated for a long time and said, "I will definitely pay it back."
The old doctor finally looked at him with a look of surprise, then said something reassuringly, "I know that medicines cannot be taken carelessly, and I will not prescribe them carelessly."
Meng Shizhuang turned and walked toward the dilapidated temple. As he walked, his body grew lighter and lighter, and he let out a breath. He stumbled a few steps, his knees buckling, and he fell to the ground. He shook his head, his vision still intact, and he didn't panic, so he crossed his legs to calm himself. The sound of rippling river water and the quiet swaying of several small boats awoke him, and the moon was already high in the sky.
He was shocked and quickly went to the dilapidated temple with the medicine.
On this side, Xiao Qi didn't wait for Meng Shizhuang to come back, so she went around to Lao Ju and asked him in a nagging manner whether Meng Shizhuang would never come back; the lame old woman leaned on the side and gloated, "It serves her right! The child ran away", looking at Lao Ju with eyes that seemed to mean "wait until you become one with us".
The old house remains stable.
Meng Shizhuang would not leave him because of this.
The moonlight slowly sank. Xiao Qi grew tired of her chatter. The lame old woman smiled for a long time with a crooked mouth. Lao Ju just stared straight ahead and didn't respond. So the two of them felt bored and went their separate ways. Although he didn't think Meng Shizhuang would leave him, the world was too chaotic, and he was worried that something might happen to Meng Shizhuang while she was out there.
At this moment, he finally couldn't help it and was about to leave the temple with two swords in hand, when he ran into Meng Shizhuang who had hurried back.
He took a quick look in the moonlight and found that there was nothing abnormal with Meng Shizhuang. He felt relieved and his eyes fell on the medicine in Meng Shizhuang's hand.
Meng Shizhuang was extremely sensitive to the changes in Lao Ju's eyes.
But his silence at this moment wasn't his usual feigned forbearance. Instead, it was a bewildered, guilty silence. He didn't know where this emotion came from, but he no longer had the nerve to argue with Lao Ju. He lowered his head, brushed past him, and walked over to the medicine jar, medicine in hand.
Lao Ju followed behind him without saying a word.
In the dim moonlight, he saw several mottled red marks on the back of Meng Shizhuang's neck. Her neck was bent forward stiffly, as if it had been crushed and unable to lift. From top to bottom, inside and out, she resembled a bamboo pole that had been forcibly bent into a human shape. This bamboo pole, which he had raised, unwrapped the medicine bag and sat cross-legged in front of the medicine pot, lighting the fire and boiling the medicine.
Probably since she could remember, she had been told to "keep her back straight". Meng Shizhuang would feel a piercing pain if she moved her head even slightly. She would put her palms on the back of her neck, listening to the sound of her vertebrae inch by inch, then lift her head up, tilt her head back and breathe, waiting for the discomfort to pass.
The aroma of the medicine slowly emerged, but it wasn't cooked yet.
As the stiffness in his neck and back relaxed, a feeling of helpless fatigue settled over him. Meng Shizhuang shrugged again, feeling he could still bear it. He lowered his head and untied the straw wrapped around his hand. Freed from its restraints, his right hand began to twitch uncontrollably. His battered palm had healed—the once bloody and blackened area had healed in a deformed state, sometimes painful, sometimes not.
Meng Shizhuang stared at his palm for a while, and as he often did these days, he tried to bend his fingers that could still be moved back to their original position.
He struggled in vain for a moment.
Until Lao Ju's medicine was ready, Meng Shizhuang wrapped her still twitching palms tightly and slowly poured the medicine into the broken bowl.
The medicine was too hot. Meng Shizhuang stared at the black medicine bowl quietly, thinking: Let it cool for a while before giving it to Lao Ju.
And his left hand involuntarily pulled the grass roots tied to his right hand.
Several blisters formed on his palms, burning with pain. He rubbed the unbroken blisters, thinking about popping them, while glancing in the direction of the old residence again and again out of the corner of his eye.
The unfortunate fellow whose money he had found was nowhere to be found—it was really him who had found it, and had put it into his own pocket. In that purse, not to mention the small change, there were more than twenty copper coins. I'm afraid he wouldn't be able to pay it back even if he broke his back.
Meng Shizhuang scratched a blister on her palm.
Could it be that he also said to Lao Ju, "I'll give you credit for other people's debts"?
What's more, he swore that he was not wrong during the day, and then turned around and said that he went to the dock to carry goods in exchange for money.
Not to mention that he couldn't open his mouth, Lao Ju had to be willing to believe him.
Meng Shizhuang didn't know the two words "bad deeds" and "hard to change one's nature", but he had learned the lessons from some unknown person or thing, and when applied to himself, he felt that it was very appropriate.
He took a deep breath, scraped open two blisters, and was about to stand up with a fearless determination, determined to make Lao Ju drink the medicine no matter what. Just as he pulled his legs halfway back, Lao Ju's broad palm pressed down on his shoulder.
Meng Shizhuang's body stiffened and he didn't look back.
Lao Ju's hand had already slid down his shoulder and grasped his wrist.
Most of the people in the temple were considered beggars. The rest, stubbornly claiming they weren't, were dressed in the most shabby of ways. They cheated, stole, and robbed their way through the day, desperate to cover their faces in ash and oblivious to their utter destitution. The only exceptions were the newly arrived Lao Ju and Meng Shizhuang, who had arrived clean and tidy, and even after living with the temple's slovenly people for so many days, they remained clean.
Lao Ju didn't mind the trouble. Every day when Meng Shizhuang went out, he would carry the pottery jars he had found from the corners of the dilapidated temple and go to the river to scoop clean water.
At this moment, the clay pot in his hand was steadily filled with half a pot of water, swaying gently with his movements.
Lao Ju took out a piece of cloth torn from rags, poured half a palm of water on it, wrung it slightly, and applied it to the back of Meng Shizhuang's neck.
Meng Shizhuang shuddered when she was pricked by the cloth soaked in cold water, but she forced herself to hold back and did not move.
Then, Lao Ju turned over his palm, which was covered with wounds and dust, and poured the water in the clay pot into the pot.
Meng Shizhuang retracted her hand and was held firmly by Lao Ju.
There was still silence between them. Meng Shizhuang moved her lips, and suddenly her eyes felt sore.
There was only moonlight in the night, and he wasn't sure if Lao Ju had seen his loss of composure, but he heard Lao Ju say, "Yes, don't be afraid."
"There are so many people in the world. If some people can eat, we can too. Ah Shi, don't be afraid."
Meng Shizhuang uttered a hasty "hmm" and tilted her head to the other side of the old house to take a breath. It was a long while before she dared to speak.
"The medicine is getting cold."
Lao Ju let go of Meng Shizhuang's hand, picked up the medicine bowl and drank it all without saying a word, as if it was another silent gesture of goodwill.
Meng Shizhuang watched his movements, unable to hold back the tears in his eyes. He hurriedly wiped his tears several times, choking several times. After a long time, just like Lao Ju's gesture of goodwill towards him, he forced out a word from his throat.
Low and blurry.
But Lao Ju heard it clearly.
Meng Shizhuang said, "There's no point in picking up things. I won't do that anymore."
Lao Ju breathed a sigh of relief from the bottom of his heart, staring at his back elongated by the moonlight. The boy's thin back was full of light.
He never took his eyes off it, as if he could imagine the figure continuing to stretch, it would definitely be tall and handsome.
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