The rice in the field is green, and the bright water is completely hidden in the dense rice leaves. The corn in the field grows tall, the blue leaves overlap each other, and the waist has already formed a lump. Corn must have come out of the chaff. It's red, and it looks very nice. There are also pieces of soybeans, crawling, as if they were bent by full beans. Not far from the depths of the Woods, there came the sound of turtledoves, and the extremely beautiful "cooing" sound swayed in the breeze, making people feel simple and close.
Thirty years ago, as long as I can remember when I was seven or eight years old, the residents in the village were all families with no money. The roofs of dozens of families are covered with peeled whole fir bark. After a long time, the skin of Chinese fir is covered with moss and green bristlegrass. In the sunshine, rain and wind, the primitive and heavy days are endlessly told. The flat ground in front of the house is full of dirt. The owner of the house sprinkled some lime in the soil, and then struck it hard with a huge wooden flat, and this flat land was formed. Under the sunlight, it appears hard gray.
Grandpa was the captain of the production team at that time. On the flat land in front of the village, there is a long row of public houses built by grandpa who led the villagers in the agricultural society. Five wooden houses stand side by side, and a granary made of wood stands in each room. All public houses are wooden houses with four pillars and three rafters, which stand tall and covered with blue and black tiles. There is also a skilled mason to make the roof, and the cornices are upturned, which is really beautiful. The roof of public houses is piled high, with horns on both sides and a new copper coin shape in the middle. It is huge, and it can be seen from the green gap hidden above the village in the distance, which is a good hope for the future life of the village people. The flat ground in front of the house is rammed underground, and no grain collected in the sun in summer will fall. Comparatively speaking, public houses are the landmark buildings in the village.
It was dark, and blue smoke floated from the roof of every house. When there is no wind, the smoke column rises straight and curled up, and finally melts in the dark blue sky. That scene can be regarded as an ink painting sketched by the master at will, fresh and elegant, without affectation. The fire in every kitchen was burning brightly, and bright red light came out of the dark hole, licking the dark faces of the red farmers in the faint night, illuminating the whole cramped farmhouse kitchen. Cool rapeseed oil was poured out of the wok, and crystal clear lines dripped into the wok. Chopped vegetables, cucumbers, peppers, beans and bacon were poured into the wok. The sound of "snow" floated out, and the rich aroma floated out, which explained the warm atmosphere of farm life. Everything is in order, take out your rice bowl, put a bowl on it, and squat down in front of your house to eat, one bowl and two bowls. There is no politeness, only heavy taste, bulging belly, just reluctant to put down your rice bowl, burping while touching your stomach, and walking out of the house to the crowded public housing.
A beautiful widow lives in the west of the village. The woman is about thirty years old, with a face that has not been tanned by the sun, a thin waist, thick lips and eyes as pure as two grapes that have just been fished out of the water. She is a typical beauty embryo. As the saying goes, beautiful women are unlucky, and this is true. Widows are famous beauties. When they were young, young men from all over the country came to propose marriage. Some were handsome, some were strong, some were outspoken, and some were sweet words, but that woman just couldn't hit her in the eye. Pick and choose, she chose the hunter with outstanding marksmanship in the village. In the low wooden house in the west of the village, she ate her husband's wild boar and elk meat. Rich nutrition makes her figure extremely plump, making her more outstanding and eye-catching. Anyway, what women didn't expect was that this man was a short-lived ghost. On a hunting trip, he was made into a wild boar and jumped around with one shot. When a puff of smoke came out, he fell down and died in the grass, and his legs didn't bounce. "If you play with a knife, you will die. If you play with a gun, you will die." From this perspective, this statement is correct.
Night hangs over public housing. In this isolated village, it has the general function of a city square. The night is getting deeper and deeper, and everyone puts forward a wooden chair from home and walks to the public house. The widow comes every night, and the short-lived ghost who went early left her no children. No one to accompany her, no one to communicate with her, she is afraid of the long night. She walked out of the door, greeted everyone all the way, swayed her huge hips all the way, and walked to the public house with fine steps. In the eyes of everyone, she shook her figure all the way, sprinkled with amorous feelings, and had inexhaustible beauty.
The moon has jumped to the top of the mountain, and the quiet moonlight is scattered all over the floor. The apartment in front of the hotel is bright and white. More and more people are gathering on the plain. Men, women and children set wooden chairs and sat together. Everyone enjoys singing folk songs and casually picks up some popular words to form rhyming songs to relieve the depression of rural nightlife. The young widow was born with a good voice. As soon as she opened her mouth, she heard a silvery sound, swaying with the light of the oil lamp in the moonlight breeze, which made some young men's throats itch. They stood up and began to talk to the woman. While singing, the woman supported her soft waist with her hands, which constituted a very touching picture. Say that men are not good things, and at this time, my heart will produce some inexplicable careers. At first, the lyrics were quite serious, but later they completely changed. Men borrowed some insincere words to take advantage of widows, fed up their addiction and openly walked into the crowd. That woman is not good at stubble, evasive, laughing and cursing, and her discretion is just right. After a while, flirting, very lively. Words reaching other people's ears lead to unbridled laughter. Some people laugh at cigarettes stuck in their mouths and stand up and beat them constantly. Grandpa is one of them.
The moon gradually rose, the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only an empty apartment, and the widow had no reason to stay, so she walked home with tiny steps. Widows always make a creaking sound when they push open their doors, echoing in the silent village. Voice is sometimes a wonderful thing, which can produce many wonderful articles. Perhaps some women are jealous of the widow's beauty, and start chewing her things while chatting, saying that her door sometimes rings several times a night, as if she were a wild man. This statement is bitter to the women in the village. They are even more wary of their husbands. When I wake up in the middle of the night, I have to stretch out my hand and feel in a daze. I am afraid that I will be negligent for a while and let the suckers sneak up on the widow's door and make a fool of myself. Many people in the village suffered because of this. They took one more look at the widow on the road and went home in pain. Some ears have been ripped off, some have bamboo sticks on their backs, and some have been accused and scolded. If the circumstances are serious, the woman won't let her near at night, so that the man has to kneel in front of the bed and swear until the woman has a knowing smile on her face. Grandpa, as the captain, came forward to stop him many times and said that, which was immoral, but it had little effect.
The isolated village is far away from towns and villages, and all the daily necessities needed at home are brought in by vendors. Those people in selling groceries carry heavy things on their shoulders. Their goods are all refined salt soy sauce, fruits, vegetables and pork, shampoo, toothpaste and soap, mosquito nets and pillows, and everything. When they entered the village, they began to shout from a distance, and the name of the goods floated over the village with the rich voice. Every time a widow approaches a vendor, she will spend a little money on something worthless. Finally, she cast a few strange eyes and walked away happily, leaving gentle ripples in the vendor's heart. When it was dark, the vendor found a family in the village to rest for one night. They know that farmhouse meals are all grown in the fields and don't cost much. To the village, they are just strangers, but as long as they sit on the front lawn of the hotel at night, strangers become acquaintances. They were called cousins and were dragged to the stage to sing some songs with the widow. People in the village take this opportunity to have some fun and increase their inner pride for no reason.
One of the vendors often appears in the village. He is a man from dozens of miles away, specializing in making glutinous rice liqueur. Every day when it gets dark, he always comes to the village with two barrels of glutinous rice liqueur on time. The sweet wine he brewed is bright, white, sweet and refreshing, and very delicious, so every time he comes, he will sell out the sweet wine in the village. The widow, like everyone else in the village, buys his sweet wine every time, but no matter how much sweet wine she buys, the vendor never takes the money she handed him, just stares at her and smirks. On the contrary, this scene embarrassed the young widow, saying that he cut off his skull, so she threw away the money and ran away in a panic.
No one in the village knew where the liqueur seller spent the night, but it was later discovered that there was another person behind this person, and she was a young widow in the village. Later, they seldom came to the village to sell sweet wine. They heard rumors that she went to Changde to do the liqueur business with that man, which made many people in the village feel empty when they wanted to eat liqueur.
More than 30 years later, the day after I returned to the village, my 86-year-old grandfather died without a disease. When I was mourning for the old man, I suddenly thought of the low wooden house in the west of the village and the widows living in it. Nowadays, the wooden house can't resist the erosion of time and has collapsed. I just don't know where she is now and how she is doing. I think she should finally be old!