frightfiction Chapter 315 Old Qian's Past
Chapter 315 Old Qian's Past
Just then, Song Desheng shouted excitedly, his wooden stick piercing through the charred mud shell, deftly picking out the beggar's chicken. The hard, dry mud shell peeled off easily, accompanied by a soft cracking sound, and with a "crack," the mud shell split open, revealing the golden, tempting pheasant meat inside.
With a cheer, Li Ju'an began to eat heartily.
He breathed hard on the small pot, the edges of which were very hot, but hunters who were out in the mountains didn't care about such formalities.
He gulped down the pheasant soup and devoured the roasted pheasant meat. The pheasant was twice the size of the ordinary chickens raised by farmers. With just a pinch of salt, each bite of the pheasant wing was bursting with rich, meaty flavor, sizzling and dripping with oil. The piping hot meat rolled around on his tongue, making it hard to swallow.
"Mmm! It smells delicious."
The four hunters laughed and chatted, eating meat and drinking soup heartily. Their bellies were warm, their faces were covered in sweat, and their hearts were full of satisfaction.
Old Qian ate to his heart's content, and his mouth started to fill with conversation.
He recalled his days supporting the western frontier, where the sweat of labor soaked every moment. In the gaps of his tight and heavy daily routine, he always thought about his distant hometown in the Xingan Mountains and wanted to send letters to it.
As night fell, under the flickering kerosene lamp, he carefully wrote each word, his writing filled with deep affection. Every few days, he would walk two kilometers just to deliver this weighty sentiment to that small stamp shop.
He didn't receive a reply from his mother, but instead received an urgent letter from the village secretary. He waited and waited, and finally, a letter arrived from his hometown. A few short words struck him like a hammer blow: "Mother critically ill, return immediately." He was in the vast, boundless grasslands supporting the border region, his heart yearning to go home. His bitterness and anxiety had nowhere to go but to turn into tears. He would choke back sobs and pour out his heart to everyone he met, his helplessness and despair heartbreaking to hear.
Fortunately, in this foreign land, a kind-hearted secretary extended a helping hand, granting him special permission to return to the city urgently and giving him a leave to go back to his hometown to visit relatives.
He returned to the Xingan Mountains and found that his mother had already passed away. His elder brother and sister-in-law were handling the funeral arrangements at their old home. He was deeply saddened. After the funeral, he returned to the western border region where he had been sent to support the development of the region, realizing that there were no family members in his hometown waiting for his return. He learned ventriloquism on the grasslands and learned horse training and horse whistles from a caravan.
Even after he was able to return to the city, he didn't choose to go back to the Xing'an Mountains. Instead, for the sake of making a living, he left the grasslands to work elsewhere, a job he held for several years. Back then, correspondence was slow and inadequate, and he had no fixed abode due to odd jobs. Later, his brother and sister-in-law sold their house, and after changing their original mailing address, he found that he could no longer contact them.
Old Qian sighed and said, "After working hard for most of my life, I'm still alone. As I get older, I realize that my hometown is still the best. They say that fallen leaves return to their roots, but only when you get old do you realize that all you really think about is your hometown."
As he spoke, Lao Zhang and Li Ju'an both lowered their eyes and remained silent.
Li Ju'an felt this deeply. In his previous life, he had also spent most of his life struggling in the south, only to never see his relatives back home again. If he couldn't be with his family and loved ones, no matter how much money he earned, he would feel lightheaded, like a rootless duckweed. This lightness of life, as light as a feather, was unbearable for him.
Li Ju'an reached into his waistband and pulled out the plum wine his wife, Lin Mei, had brought him before she left. This plum wine was different from deer blood wine; it had a refreshing taste that women preferred. He didn't usually like drinking it, but since it was from his wife, he happily accepted it, saying he absolutely had to try the plum wine she had made herself.
He took out a large jug of plum wine, took a big gulp, handed it to Old Qian, and said, "Uncle Qian, have a drink."
Old Qian, feeling frustrated, took the plum wine offered and took a swig. The taste made his eyes light up, and he said, "This wine tastes really good, but it's a bit mild, not strong enough."
He asked where he bought it, and Li Ju'an told him it was brewed by his family. Old Qian fell silent again, lost in a long reverie.
After a while, Old Qian said, "Actually, we are quite envious of that old guy, Old Tao. He's very sensible. He and that widow from the Chen family are living a harmonious and happy life. When you get old, you have to find a companion, otherwise, you'll live too long."
Li Ju'an understood what he meant, and offered him two large gulps of wine, saying, "Let's not say anything more, let's eat meat and drink wine."
Old Qian slapped his forehead, raised his wine jug, and shouted, "Enough talk, let's drink! Don't think about anything else!"
Looking at Lao Qian, and seeing the bitterness in Lao Qian's heart, Lao Zhang felt deeply for him.
Old Zhang has a son and a daughter. His daughter married far away, and his son lived in the city, but he heard that his son recently went south and he hasn't heard from him since. He thought about spending the Spring Festival alone this year, listening to the New Year's greetings from door to door in the village, and he felt terrible. He sighed, raised his wine jug, and shouted, "In the end, I'm old and I don't even have a phone call. I still have to live my life on my own."
Song Desheng laughed at him and said, "Uncle Zhang, aren't you afraid your aunt will beat you up if you say that?"
Old Zhang, thinking of his tigress, and not caring if the younger men laughed at him, pulled at his collar to show the three men, saying, "See these claws?"
Several fingernail marks—clearly from a fight with older women. Li Ju'an and Song Desheng couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Old Zhang sighed and said, "Otherwise, why would we go into the mountains all the time? Isn't it because we're afraid of being scratched by women? If you ask me, it's better for Old Qian to live a quiet life."
Li Ju'an glanced at the two old men. It was true, the married ones lamented the hardships of marriage, and the unmarried ones lamented the hardships of being unmarried. In this life, no matter which path you take, there will be regrets, disappointments, and times of remorse. But the four of them now had food and clothing, and could sit together drinking and chatting—wasn't that life?
Li Ju'an tore off another piece of beggar's chicken and said, "In the future, communication will definitely become more and more advanced. At that time, we will also carry telephones with us and call whoever we want."
He knew that in later generations, in the 90s, society's thirst for communication would be unstoppable. The postal system kept pace with the times, not only launching the express mail service but also introducing emerging services such as electronic letters and postal express mail.
Telephone networks extended to every corner. Public phone booths were available in cities, and even home phones were available in remote villages. Laid-off workers opened information service shops. In another ten years or so, pagers, mobile phones, and computers would appear one after another.
After eating and drinking their fill, Li Ju'an and the others slept by the campfire fully clothed, with oiled moisture-proof cloths under them.
Before going to bed, Song Desheng suddenly asked, "Uncle Qian, what does the leopard call?"