When I was 4 years old, I lived with my grandfather in Jieyang, Guangdong, in an alley behind the township. That summer, it was unspeakably hot. Standing in the gatehouse during the day, the hot fire rushed straight to the door of the head from the soles of the feet, and white gas came out.
Grandpa said that such a day would burn people's heads stupidly.
Grandpa is over 70 years old, but he is not as strong as he is in ancient times.
He had always had a resolute gaze, and his eyebrows were thick and wild, like weeds, and they were about to dig into his sideburns. Although the man is thin, his back is as straight as a pine. The green muscles and bones on the back of the hand are staggered together, such as lofty mountains and mountains, and hundreds of rivers and mighty currents. In the township, he is the most enthusiastic and strives to be the first in everything.
My favorite thing is to sit on the patio steps after the sudden heat has disappeared at dusk, listening to him and my grandmother mumble Hokkien dialect.
Outside, the glow of the clouds burned red, and he scrambled to climb on his grandfather's strong shoulders first. The short hair, which is as thick as grass stubble, flashes with dazzling golden light.
When the sun sank down into the night, he only listened to the cattle in the courtyard, and the dog barked weakly and with the sound of urns. The cicadas should also be harmonized, premeditated, one after another, gathering into a symphony.
The faint smoke of the cooking stove melted into the heavy sky, like the spring snow silently melting into the new warm river.
In the back of the ancestral hall, there are often opera troupes coming to the building to sing at night, and the theater is usually set up in advance. Grandpa was named, and I also went with him, saying that it was doing odd jobs.
My grandfather often praised me as his "right and left hand". However, usually I don't have much of a turn to do chores, so I have to wander around the backyard.
Seeing me looking at the theater with a novel face, my grandfather smiled and said, "This stage, I grew up with the township, and how old the township is, how old it is."
I've always believed in my grandfather.
The stage is about six zhang wide, more than half of the depth of three zhang, and the height of the stairs is more than three feet. The flowers, birds, insects and beasts carved on the eaves wall on both sides are all different, although they have been mottled, they are still very beautiful.
The birds fluttered their wings, the dragon shook, and their eyes were powerful, as if they had been imprisoned for a long time, and they were about to rush out of the clouds. At first glance, I was a little frightened.
After a while, the audience gathered together on a slender elm bench, and you squeezed me as if they were going to fight.
My aunts and mothers-in-law all came with their families. Under the stage, there was gossip and crackling, like firewood exploded in the stove.
As soon as the play started, there was a lot of quietness around. I only listened to the old man's lips fluttering behind the fan, and occasionally someone pinched his throat and babbled a few words along with the lyrics, vaguely like "Tell heaven and earth that there is a spiritual saint, and protect my marriage will be completed early", I really don't understand it. Whenever I was drowsy, my grandfather would take out peanut cakes from the cracks of my jacket and give them to me, so that I would be greedy and addicted, and I would keep them a secret from my grandmother. Sometimes there was no sugar or bean sticks, and my grandfather "allowed" me to play with my friends under the "sacred tree".
The "sacred tree" in front of the ancestral hall of the old house is lush and vigorous, and the plates are wrong. The canopy of the tree is like an umbrella, covering the sky and the sun, and the cascading and clustered leaves are wrapped in green all year round. The dense greenery is like a cover, and it is a good place for villagers to take shelter in the summer.
Once, I asked my grandfather if the sacred tree was so old that it would die of old age like a human
Grandpa said that the sacred tree is a god, and of course the god will not die.
Grandpa likes things that have an age like him. I think.
In the evening, the voices stopped. Birds and insects chirped softly, and the wind outside the window was sparse, scratching the palms of the leaves, itching and rustling.
Throughout the summer, I often fell asleep in such a quiet noise.
In the first month of spring, it happened that the township was "hot". According to the usual practice, the night before the "excitement", it is necessary to hang lanterns and red paper for the "sacred tree". Grandpa is most enthusiastic about this kind of work. On that day, the threshold of my house was almost flattened by my aunts. The people who came and went, those who sit, those who sit, those who stood, those who bowed their waists, thanked and prayed, and those who congratulated and blessed each other, all handed over red paper before leaving.
Grandpa wears a pair of reading glasses with narrow round frames and fine gold wire rimmed that are rarely seen on weekdays. A few knife-like cracks, like a savage creeper, climbed in the corner of his eye, but very much like a high-spirited old cadre.
He first flattened the red paper, pointed his fingers with water, flipped through it, traced the corners flat, folded them together, tucked them into his pocket, and then strode out of the gatehouse.
Grandpa can be busy for a while.
Dressing up the "sacred tree" is not an easy task.
The sacred tree "also has its pride, and it cannot be easily offended by its backbone." The misplaced leaves dazzled people. Not to mention the rhizomes that broke through the ground, making the earth's crust open and covered with cracked wounds. Wooden ladders are unstable. Fortunately, my grandfather is familiar with his eyes and hands, and he has three or five people to help, which can also be called handy.
After the lanterns are lit, the "sacred tree" seems to really come to life in the dark night.
The verdant and colorful trees of the trees compete with each other, like stars shining and tears dotting.
The wind rubbed over the top of the head of the "sacred tree", and the branches all shook the gorgeous waist and laughed, as if thousands of shy and glamorous goddesses, reflecting the blue light of the sky, brilliant as since.
People praised Grandpa's vigorous posture and ingenuity. Grandpa just laughed.
His dark and thin arms were covered with layers of thin veil of sweat, and his eyes shone brightly.
On this day, the east to the pavilion lane, the south to the head of Donglong Village, the north to the back ridge, the upper and lower gongs and drums are noisy, and the cannon music is ringing in unison. Those who carry flower baskets, those who carry flags, those who hold oil-paper lanterns, "Seven Fairies", "Tang Seng Master and Apprentice", the honor guard band, and the "Ying Song and Dance" team, one after another, are dizzying.
People are mighty, hugging each other in front and back, stretching for dozens of miles, like a long river of color slowly meandering.
At this time, if the person carrying the sedan chair at the front of the team turns around and looks into the distance, he will not be able to see the end.
Grandpa also has to be in parallel with the team.
He wore a lacquer-colored satin gown with a stand-up collar and carried an umbrella instead of a walking stick. He had already comprador the wine offerings, the incense cremated the gold, and told us not only to watch the drama and watch the ceremony, but also to remember to pay tribute, worship and thank the gods.
We said yes in unison. In fact, my mind has already drifted to the clouds.
In front of each ancestral hall, the person who carries the portable shrine wants to put the sedan chair and ask the god to rest for a while, so that the people of the village can worship and pray for blessings.
On the altar, there are delicacies on the plate, and the eyes are full of dazzling. No rice cake, vegetable cake, red peach cake, roast goose with plum sauce, all kinds of delicacies, which make children make a mess.
On this day, the little ones are the happiest. The adults were busy praying and praying for blessings, while the children only watched the lively performances, waiting for the sumptuous meals and snacks after the ceremony.
The incense in the altar was so thick that it was foggy in front of my eyes.
After I left my hometown, I didn't see such a grand occasion for many years.
I can often listen to my grandfather talk about some new things in **. For example, the holly that was planted earlier in the patio is now lush;My aunt's daughter was admitted to university;Or which family built a new building, so magnificent, and also bought a banquet at the east hall entrance of Cuowei.
I also heard that there was a proposal to cut down the "sacred tree" because it was so big and it was still stubbornly growing.
Grandpa resolutely **, complained to the district and county**, and the matter was temporarily shelved.
I always felt that my grandfather was still young, and he always seemed to have endless energy.
I went back to the village once, but it was because my grandfather suddenly fell ill.
When I saw my grandfather, he was sitting on the patio resting. The flat body is pillowed on the rattan rocking chair, like duckweed in the pond, swaying slowly.
Hearing my voice, my grandfather lifted his head full of silver-leaved grass and smiled happily at me.
He sat up, his arched back bare, and his bones were high and convex, like a hundred-legged worm that sank into the waistband of his trousers.
After dinner that day, I heard that someone was singing, so I came to the back of the ancestral hall to stroll around, maybe to join in the fun.
Passing through the front hall, I saw a few old people, sitting low under the "sacred tree" and muttering, not knowing what to discuss.
In the dark night, the thick green canopy of the "sacred tree" is like splashing ink, inlaid into the sky, reflecting the dark blue sky.
I walked into the backyard and found a bright place to sit down.
sang "The Golden Flower Girl". On the stage, there is a white-faced Tsing Yi Xiao Dan wearing a crown of beads, walking with broken steps, dragging and singing in a scream. Next to him, a white-fronted and yellow-nosed man with a crimson champion hat, pinched his hands, and stood firmly.
After singing a few words, the Tsing Yi Xiaodan frowned and became angry, his expression was a little funny, and I couldn't help laughing secretly.
Immediately afterwards, a man with a big comb and a mane, wearing red shoes with a big head, wearing a large-brimmed trousers, and holding a big sunflower fan appeared.
I couldn't even scream in my heart, because I was most afraid of such a harlequin. Especially the kind that often plays stunts, called kicking shoes ugly. When I was a child, when such a corner appeared on stage, it always attracted laughter. This often frustrates me.
I looked around, and there were only a few old people scrawling, and the silence around me was so quiet that I could only hear the thin voices of singing.
After listening to it for a while, the backfield was sparse, and there were not many people left.
It was the first scene I'd heard in all these years of being away from home.
Back in the village, it was the spring of the following year. I heard that the "sacred tree" was going to be cut down was a certainty, but it was only a matter of time.
The aunt's eldest daughter was admitted to graduate school again, and she was ready to host a banquet at a farm, and invited villagers to the banquet to congratulate her.
But I didn't go back to my hometown for that.
Grandma said that grandpa was getting sick.
Grandpa rarely spoke, and almost closed his eyes to rest. I walked into the backyard and saw that he was sunk into the cracked rattan chair, and his dark robe seemed to cover the thin shell.
As I approached him, he only raised his eyes heavily, dull as if a dull layer of smoke, and drooped slowly.
The wind seemed to have shaved away even the sharpness in his eyes.
For the first time, I felt life slip away before my eyes. Like a feather falling to the ground, silently.
My grandfather died at the vernal equinox that year.
The following summer, the "sacred tree" in the village was also cut down. People put a lot of effort into it because it was so thick.
After the "sacred tree" fell, the front of the ancestral hall was much empty. People have built basketball courts and fitness centers for the elderly, and square dances are often organized in the evening.
Later, I visited a lot of temple fairs, and they were indeed prosperous and lively. I have also heard a few Peking operas, "The Legend of the White Snake" and so on. But I never had the same joy as before.
I think that feeling has passed with me as I grew older.
*: China Youth Daily client.