Ming Yu

The next day, in the early morning of the first day of the Lunar New Year, a string of door-opening firecrackers sounded early on, and the streets and alleys were full of auspiciousness.

I heard that the elder brother is back, and the children will come to kowtow to pay New Year's greetings in the morning.

Song Ma came over early in the morning and started making breakfast.Ziyang and Yuan Chengfeng went to bed late last night, and the two children slept together on the bed in the west wing when they were tired from playing.At night, Jun Wulei cried a lot after seeing the sachet, and was tired, so Hua Niansu didn't disturb him when he got up, and let him sleep for a while.

Thinking that the children would be coming soon, Hua Niansu stood in front of the cabinet in the outer hall of the East Wing, looking for the red paper that had been placed here to wrap the New Year's money.

He looked up and saw a straw woven cage on the tall cabinet. It was small and lightly woven, because it was carefully preserved. Although it had been stored for a long time, the turf was dry and cracked, and it lacked luster. No damage.

Hua Niansu's heart moved, and she gently picked up the small cage, a faint sadness welled up from the bottom of her heart, and she was suddenly in a trance.

At this time, Ziyang's immature voice sounded at the door: "Brother, little fat brother asked me to come and find a cage. He just caught a greedy little snowfinch in the haystack, and there was no place to put it. There is a straw cage, just ask me to come and get it.”

Hua Niansu turned around, pointed to the little cage in her hand and asked, "Is it this one?"

Ziyang ran over and turned his head to look, revealing two dimples: "Yes, it should be this one."

"Take it and play with it." Hua Niansu bent her eyes, touched his head tenderly, and couldn't help adding another sentence: "The cage is old, be careful, don't break it."

Ziyang agreed, and happily went out to find Yuan Chengfeng pretending to be a bird. Looking at his cheerful back, Hua Niansu was a little distracted...

Time flies, and it is another Spring Festival.

In the long alley outside the courtyard, every family hung up festive red lanterns, casting hazy red shadows on the snow.The children who came to pay homage to their early years surrounded the room, waiting to kowtow to their husband.

The man had already dressed neatly, with his shoes and socks on, but he was too weak to get out of bed, so he had to give up after several tossings, leaning on the bedside and handing out red envelopes to the dolls who kowtowed one by one.Today, he deliberately put on a brand-new purple warm robe, with a few elegant peach blossoms embroidered with gold thread on the cuffs and the edge of the skirt, which made him feel more energetic.

A child stood far away. He had just moved to a small town with his remarried mother a few days ago, and had never come to practice calligraphy. Seeing the sick face of the person on the bed, he was a little frightened and refused to come forward.

The man still smiled like a spring breeze, took out a small straw cage from the pillow, beckoned to him, sat up with all his strength and stuffed it into the child's hand.Seeing a majestic green-headed cricket inside, the child screamed happily, and other children surrounded him. The man gently patted his head and motioned them to play.

After more than an hour, the red envelopes for New Year's greetings were finally distributed. The man held on for a long time, but his energy was obviously low, and his face was ugly.After seeing off the last happy child, Song's mother hurriedly pulled a blanket over him and helped him to lie down, while she couldn't help complaining that he was a child. I fell down and my ankle was twisted and swollen.

The man didn't make a sound, lying on the couch, buried his head between the brocade quilts, smiled wearily, stretched out a thin and withered hand from under the quilt, and secretly touched another little girl hidden in the side of the bed. Inside the grass cage, the black-headed golden red cricket held its head up and chest up, waving a pair of thick black antennae.

He thought in his heart that Su'er had a miserable childhood and never played with crickets. If he liked it, he would catch a bigger one for him to play with.The man was lost in thought, and the look on his face became more and more gentle. His deep black eyes flickered lightly, like the pure starlight in the sky, clear and bright.

Seeing that the corners of his lips were slightly raised, and he seemed to be in a daze, she knew what he was thinking, she couldn't help but shook her head, and didn't point it out, she just thought it was just one of his thoughts...

Hua Niansu lowered her head, looked at the empty palm, and unconsciously squeezed and opened it again.

He felt a little uncomfortable, a little sad, and couldn't help frowning, trying to ignore the loss in his heart, readjusted his mood, and then opened the cabinet to find the red paper.

In one morning, more than 30 children came, packed the hall to the brim, kowtowed, saluted, and handed out red envelopes.The children were eloquent and said a lot of auspicious words one by one. The inside and outside of the house were bustling for a while, and every child's face was full of youthfulness.

In the afternoon, the children gathered in the yard to fight birds, throw cloth bags, jump on the grid, play snowball fights, and make snowmen, full of laughter.

It wasn't until the sun was setting in the west that the last child was sent away, and the family finally sat down to have a New Year's Eve dinner.

The dinner was simple but hearty, with a few hot dumplings, rice cakes, and a plate of wishful bean sprouts, everyone was full of joy.

On the early morning of the second day of the Lunar New Year, Mother Song packed the sacrificial snacks, fruit plate, joss sticks, and paper money in cloth bags for her son to carry, and after a few instructions, she sent them out of the house.

The day before Ziyang was dragged by Yuan Chengfeng to build a snowman in the snow, and accidentally caught a cold, and developed a fever at night. He was curled up in a thick quilt to cover his sweat, so he couldn't go with them.

Seeing the 'wife' face flushed red, nestled under the quilt, with his little head drooping wearily, Yuan Chengfeng was so guilty that he lay on his bedside and apologized for a long time, dawdling for nearly half an hour, Later, it was his old mother who couldn't stand it anymore, and dragged him out by the collar.

The clouds in the sky were thick and low, and the sun could not penetrate.

Yuan Chengfeng took his father and son to Chaotian Wharf, found the fellow's dock, handed over a piece of broken silver, and boarded a black awning boat.

The Huai River surrounds the white walls, red flowers sprinkle on the blue tiles, and stone arch bridges lean on the clear water, echoing the snow-capped roofs.

The boatman was an old man in his forties, very talkative. His skin was tanned because he had been sailing for many years, and he stood at the stern of the boat with a stick of wormwood, and drove the black boat on the winding river.

Seeing several young masters and young masters in bright clothes and handsome faces, and hearing that they were going to Yue'er Bay, the old man immediately became interested in chatting and introduced Yue'er Bay to them.

Yue'er Bay is [-] miles away from the town by water. It is far away from human habitation and few people know about it. There are islands in the lake and lakes in the islands. The scenery is unique and quiet.The island is full of ancient camphor trees, birds are singing and flowers are fragrant in all seasons, and it is spotless, just like a paradise.

The Wupeng boat docked, and the group bid farewell to the old man, got off the boat and went to the island, followed Yuan Chengfeng all the way to the depths of the dense forest, and finally climbed to a hill after half an hour.

Looking around, there are layers of pine branches all around, with white velvet-like thick snow hanging on the branches, drooping heavily, and from time to time, a piece or two of snow will fall, silently piled on the snow.

Pushing aside the pine branches in front of us, the snowflakes covering the branches fell rustlingly, and after a while, an open space was revealed.There is a tomb standing on the open space, and there is a smaller tomb beside it, and a stone tablet is erected in front of the tomb.

"Here, it's here." Yuan Chengfeng walked aside, put down the cloth bag on his shoulder, took out the sacrificial items from it, walked to the grave and placed them respectfully one by one: "Master, I'll bring my elder brother to see you gone."

At this time, it suddenly snowed in the sky, and the snowflakes were very thin and scattered.

Hua Niansu let go of Jun Wulei's hand, walked slowly towards the stone tablet, staring at the familiar little wooden bird.The wooden bird was hung on the stone tablet with a rope. One of its wings was broken, and it was blown from side to side by the wind.

He gently took off the rope, carefully held up the incomplete wooden bird, and closed his palms tightly. The edge of the broken wood pricked his palm red, but it couldn't overcome one ten thousandth of the pain in his heart.

Unconsciously rubbing the cold wooden bird with her fingertips, her heart was filled with soreness like a tide, but a heart seemed to be poured into hot magma, and suddenly there were big waves!

So that's the case, is it a life for a life?Daddy...

The fleeting years are like water, the cold comes and the summer goes, and the scorching midsummer, Hua Nian has not returned for a long time.

The days in the courtyard were extremely slow, and it was summer, the air was hot and humid, the days were long and the nights were short.The man waited almost stubbornly day by day, but every day he woke up, he was weaker than the day before, and the fire in his eyes became weaker and weaker.

Throughout the summer, the man never had blood stains between his lips and teeth, and his nose also bleeds from time to time. He used countless acupuncture decoctions, but there was no improvement at all. He often just wiped off the blood stains on his face with a wet towel, and his nose was already red again. So repeatedly tossing and tossing all night until dawn.

He is clean by nature, and pays most attention to his appearance. In order to prevent nosebleeds all over his face, he had to lie flat on the bed with his eyes open without focus. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, my mouth was always full of rusty smell, and there was a lot of blood on the side of the pillow.

Gradually, his skin was no longer pure and flawless. With just a light touch, the thin light blue blood vessels under the skin would ooze and bruise, sometimes on the arms, sometimes on the back, chest, side waist, or legs , forming patches of cyanotic plaques.

Once the blood spots on the body are connected into a large area, it is inevitable to cough up blood again. If the hot blood rushing up from the throat is forcibly swallowed, it will trickle out from the ears and the corners of the eyes.Really helpless, Song Ma found gauze and dipped it in the medicinal juice, lightly covered the man's eyes, and stuffed soft cotton in the hole in his ear, which allowed him to slow down for an hour or two.

On this day, it was a dark night without even the twilight of the stars, and the sultry air enveloped the whole town, making it suffocating.In the night, it started to drizzle, and suddenly there was a heart-piercing coughing sound in the room, mixed with the raindrops, one after another, fluttering with the wind, it spread far away from the silent courtyard.

After dawn, Song Ma entered the room with a basin of clear water, wrung out a wet towel, and walked lightly towards the bed.

The windows in the room were closed, and in the dim light, the man lying on the bed was sick and skinny, with high cheekbones on his cheeks, he was already haggard and out of shape, his withered snow-white hair was messily scattered on the pillow, and his lips were blurred. Withered and pale like fallen flowers.

There was a wind the night before, and the slightly cold air invaded his lungs. He coughed for a whole night. There was too much blood on his body, which stained the plain white gown and dripped on the floor along the corner of the clothes, dragging a long path. The dark red traces are like a bunch of red plums that have failed miserably in the snow...

After cleaning the stains on the man's body lightly, she put on a set of clean clothes for him. Mama Song helped him lie flat on the bed and put the quilt back on.

Although it was already a small summer heat, the winter quilt in the house had never been replaced. The heavy quilt was pressed on his body, and there was almost no ups and downs, as if the quilt was just a thin piece of paper, flat, and no human shape could be seen.

The oil lamp on the table was still unburned, and the tiny flame was wriggling weakly, as if it would be extinguished at any time, emitting a little bit of faint heat.

The man raised the corner of his lower lip with difficulty, and smiled exhaustedly. He didn't want to arouse the itching in his throat, and couldn't help coughing out. The cough made his sick body tremble, and the brocade quilt slipped down to his waist. Thin shirts, thin bones and sharp heart.

Soon, a few drops of warm blood faintly spilled from his lips, but there was not much pain between his brows, his eyes were still as clear as a spring, revealing his usual forbearance and stubbornness, and there was always a power to comfort people's hearts.

Gently closing the wooden door, Mama Song turned around, and stood under the eaves holding the sheet stained with dark blood stains, and couldn't help covering her face and weeping anymore...

Jiangnan in Meiji is always rainy and foggy.

He has been sleeping a lot lately, the man can no longer remember how many times he slept, he sleeps for a long time in a daze, and when he opens his eyes, he is always lying on the bed, unable to distinguish day from night.

That day, he slept until dusk, and finally got a moment of clarity. Wrapped in a blanket, he lay sickly on the warm couch, repeatedly playing with the wooden bird in his palm.

It was drizzling outside the window, and the rain fell down the eaves, forming a thin line and splashing small splashes.The small courtyard was shrouded in misty mist, and the white mist was light.

The room was peaceful and quiet, the medicine cup on the table was still steaming, a string of peach blossom branches poked into the room through the window lattice, the peach blossoms on the branches were very clean, one by one, pure and beautiful.

A gust of wind and rain hit and opened a corner of the bamboo curtain.The wind blows over the fragrance of flowers, a few light pink petals fall from the branches, swaying colorfully, and the dark fragrance sprouts. With a crisp 'pop', the little wooden bird rolled to the ground and broke one of its wings.

The faint candlelight on the table danced a few times, and finally went out, leaving behind a wisp of green smoke that hovered upwards and diffused lightly.

The ears of the little fox curled up on the man's lap trembled, and he suddenly opened his eyes, raised his head, stared at him for a long time, got up and leaned in front of the man, gently licked his cold lips, and finally licked his cold lips very slowly. He blinked, and a large tear welled up in his amber eyes.

On the second day, the rain stopped suddenly, and a huge rainbow appeared in the sky.

Thirty miles southeast of the city, Yue'er Bay.

On the island, under a towering cedar pine, there is a new grave. The soil on the grave is soft, with the damp breath after the rain.A stone tablet stood in front of the grave, and the inscription "Mr. Peach Blossom's Tomb" was washed clean by the rain.

Song Ma pulled her sleeves and wiped the corners of her eyes, only to hear a muffled 'bang' sound behind her, she turned her head in surprise, the little fox's forehead was cracked, and his body limply collapsed beside the stone tablet, with a short and sharp groan coming out of his throat. Wailing, the mouth continued to overflow with blood, just like a cuckoo crying blood.

The next day, a small grave was added next to the big one. Life and death follow each other, never leaving.