There was a loud bang, and the little boy was lightly hit on the cheek by something three or five times, and he woke up from his sleep. His eyes hurt so much that he couldn't open them, and his hand hurriedly tried to touch his brother's bell lying beside him, breathing evenly, and he breathed a long sigh of relief.

Slowly opening his eyes, the little boy found himself lying next to his grandfather's popcorn stall on the corner of the street. A circle of children clapped their hands around the freshly baked magic popcorn. What woke me up just now was the popcorn that splashed around with the air currents at the moment of boiling. He looked at the busy old man suspiciously, felt a tingling in his arm, and the image of thousands of king cobras roaring and pounced on him flashed in his mind, and he screamed loudly in fright. Only to find that his arm was intact and could not find any injured tooth marks.

The old man looked at him, and when he saw that he was awake, he laughed: "Good boy, you were startled by the explosion of popcorn out of the pot just now. I'm still trying to figure out how to wake you up, and it looks like I'm going to have to use this explosion again, hahaha..."

The little boy stretched and yawned deeply, reluctantly realizing that he had just had a strange dream. Not far away, the crowd surrounded the street performers who performed monkey jumping over the fire ring, and two little monkeys dressed as Monkey King hugged each other and trembled in the shouting and obscenity of the leather whip. The tongue of fire on the ring of fire made the young brother who was devoured by the flame monster in the dream flashed in the little boy's mind. Looking at the two skinny little monkeys, the little boy smiled bitterly, he must have wanted to rescue these two poor ghosts too much, so he would have that strange dream.

His whole body was sore, he gritted his teeth and got up, and the bones in his body "rattled". He may have slept on the floor for too long, his feet were sore and numb, and the chilblains on his toes ached. That's why I dreamed of some strange roots growing on my feet, the little boy sighed. With some difficulty, he picked up his younger brother, patted the dust behind him, and said goodbye to the old grandfather. The old man nodded politely in response, and went on busy.

The little boy walked up to the two little monkeys and handed them the few popcorns he had left in his arms. The two monkeys couldn't wait to grab it and stuff it into their mouths, "quacking" and chewing indiscriminately. Their eyes immediately lit up, and they squeaked up and down, causing the chains around their necks to clang. The little boy was actually a little envious, if he brought his younger brother to perform in the fire ring, maybe it would be good. Work hard and at least have free leftovers to eat. If you dance well, you might even get a chicken leg reward. His stomach rumbled.

The sky is getting dark, and the traffic in the market has become sparse. The little boy shook his head vigorously, trying to come to his senses. The dream just now became clearer and clearer, as if it had really happened, spreading out in his thoughts. The little boy walked slowly and thoughtfully in the direction of home.

Not far behind him, people are busy cleaning up the wreckage of a fire. Everyone was thankful that a pair of young brothers and sisters were miraculously rescued by their mother.

The little boy went to the clinic in the town before he was delayed at the popcorn stall. After examining his brother's head, the doctor said, "You take your brother home for a few more days, and come back if there is any abnormality, just like before." "After my brother woke up with a head injury, he quickly fell into a deep sleep that resembled a coma, and he couldn't wake up for two or three days. After waking up, it was still the same ordinary bell, but for two or three days, I was full of energy, excited, and refused to sleep. Now he was deep asleep again.

The little boy returned home exhausted with his younger brother in his arms, drank some leftover soup indiscriminately, snuggled up to his unconscious mother, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, the blue sky was white and the sky was clear. The little boy thought that his brother would not wake up, fed him some water, and built a high wall around the bed with a quilt. Carrying a toy machete made of wood, carrying a vegetable basket, humming a song, jumping happily, and "slashing" all the way out of the house.

A smoke rushed to the bottom of the slope in front of his house, and he secretly admired his "Ling Bo Weibu" for his perfection. Just as he was proud, the grass slipped under his feet, and he fell into a. He imagined himself to be a peerless swordsman, and he took three steps and two steps around a hill, climbed up the mountain, and he came to his secret territory, a cornfield.

It was a wasteland that my mother had cultivated before, and it was planted here every year with corn. Corn is interspersed with vegetables and fruits. The crops were overgrown with weeds, and the little boy never pulled them out. Nor does he go to hunt caterpillars that gnaw on crops. He firmly believes that all life shares this magical land, and every life has the right to live and grow freely here. His arrival had disturbed everyone and destroyed the original peace, and he felt deeply guilty. Because of this, he never encountered a good harvest.

A neighbor who lives on another hill suggests that he should apply nitrogen fertilizer to the crops. The boy carefully collected his own urine and that of his brother and stored it in large wooden barrels. The little boy pinched his nose and carefully irrigated the roots of each plant, whispering to them.

The upright and upright herbaceous stems of the corn close to the ground surround the fibrous roots that grow a ring of strong fibrous roots, which are deeply inserted into the ground and firmly anchor the corn stalks to the ground. In his dreams, strong roots also grow on his feet to hold himself in place. The little boy brandished a wooden machete and pointed at the corn and shouted: "You little corn monster, how dare you run into this hero's dream to make trouble?"

"Peerless hero, please spare your life! the little one will never dare!" the little boy pinched his throat, imitating the frightened corn demon to answer himself.

"Don't talk nonsense!, you-goo, eat me!" he said, raising his wooden machete and pretending to slash at the corn plant, before laughing and leaning back together.

The little boy knows every plant here. He named every crop, even every small animal that passed by, as a token of gratitude for their help.

The pumpkin vine with orange-yellow flowers is called May. Every year, the newly sprouted pumpkin vines are called May, and they always inadvertently bloom their first flowers at the beginning of May every year. The first flower is like an oiran, swaying the egg-yellow skirt and dancing. The rest of the flowers, at her beckoning, quickly climbed up the green vines, echoing each other from afar, and dancing together in praise of the sun and life.

The little boy saw the bee named Ah Huang and his friends, in groups of three or five, playing and making noise, stopping and stopping in each pumpkin flower, and talking to each other. Ah Hui, the butterfly with the heart of the flower, just sang a graceful and pleasant love song in front of this flower, and the next second was so confused by the charm of another flower that he got carried away and danced.

The little boy carefully examines each pumpkin flower. His mother told him that there were far more male flowers than female flowers, and that the excess male flowers could be picked appropriately. There must not be too many female flowers on each rattan, otherwise the rattan will not be able to bear the weight of their fruits. If two female flowers are next to each other, pick the smaller one, and let the larger flower shoulder their common mission, receive the baptism of wind and sun, and bear plump fruits.

The male and female flowers of pumpkin are easy to identify. The stamens of the male flower are a columella covered with abundant pollen. The stamens of the female flowers are four-petal stigmas that are responsible for receiving pollen from bees and butterflies. The female flower has a bulging melon fetus on the flower stalk. The melon fetus makes the female flower attract attention in the group of flowers, just like humans take care of pregnant women, and the female flower containing the melon fetus will also receive more care from the little boy.

Like a doctor, the little boy carefully examines each flower, compares and weighs each flower, and carefully selects each ingredient. These fresh seasonal flowers will make for an unbeatable dish tonight.

The little boy remembers his mother boiling a small half pot of water, adding a tablespoon of lard to taste, and putting fresh pumpkin flowers into the boiling water. The petals are submerged in the water, tumble a few times, and sprinkle with an appropriate amount of table salt. A simple but delicious pumpkin petal soup is complete.

The thousands of pollen of the male flowers are integrated into the soup, like a storm of spring fish chasing the rare female flowers, they complement each other and harmonize, as if a steady stream of life motive force is integrated in the soup. The petals fade to a transparent pale yellow, dotted with green calyxes. A thin layer of lard floats on the soup, reflecting a sparkling light.

The little boy vividly remembered that he stood by the fire and watched his mother quietly, the light of the charcoal fire swaying and dancing on her face. Mom looked up at him and smiled. A strand of hair fell down and hung in front of her eyes, her eyes shining with tenderness and love. At this time, the little boy was looking forward to his mother asking him to try the soup for everyone first.

This is the happiest moment in the memory of the little boy. The family sat in a circle, and his sister Yao Tao arranged the dishes and chopsticks, held his little hand, and sat beside him. Mom served soup for everyone, pumpkin petal soup was smoky, and the air was filled with the fragrance of pumpkin. Everyone takes a gentle bite in anticipation, the warmth of the soup slowly hugs the tongue, and every taste bud is surrounded by pumpkin pollen that melts into the soup. It's like being in an empty and refreshing meadow, running in the sun, and dancing with pumpkin flowers. The egg-yellow skirt of the pumpkin flower flutters in the wind and gently flutters on the eyebrows.

Even a serious father can't resist the meekness and deliciousness of the soup. He opened his eyebrows, laughed heartily, chatted happily with his mother and sister, and opened the endless chatterbox. The little boy watched them quietly open and close the corners of their mouths, and the dim light sprinkled warmth and affection on their faces. He wished he could one day be part of his father's conversation.

Accompanied by his father's hearty laughter, the indescribable loss dragged the little boy out of his memories and into reality. The younger brother's head was injured by the little boy's carelessness, and he felt guilty. He wants to use the first handful of pumpkin flowers of the year to make a delicious petal soup as a gift to apologize to his brother.

The little boy had a good harvest, picking 12 male flowers and 2 female flowers in his basket. Satisfied, he ran back, so much so that he almost forgot the wooden machete that a peerless swordsman should carry with him at all times.

He took a shortcut, wanting to get home as soon as possible to check on his brother. Between the two hills on which the home and the cornfield were located, there was a claustrophobic swamp. The swamp is lined with rocky cliffs, and a path winds its way around the edge of the cliffs. The path was only big enough for one person to walk, and the cliff was at the foot of the cliff, and if you weren't careful, you would fall down. When the little boy was younger, every time he thought of this path, he felt black in front of his eyes and tremble all over. Even now, he needed to hold his breath, gritting his teeth and moving slowly along the path, never daring to look down the cliff.

He trotted all the way to the end of the cliffside path, but was terrified. He suddenly saw his younger brother Bell, holding a toy pistol in his left hand and a large wooden sword in his right hand, trembling and walking down the path. The younger brother had already reached the middle of the path, and he stopped and looked around in a majestic manner, searching everywhere for his brother's traces, and he was anxious to find his brother to fight for three hundred rounds and fight for it.

The little boy held his breath, he didn't dare call his brother's name. The little guy woke up from his sleep at some point. Call his name now, and he will run to his brother. The narrow path was littered with rubble, and if the younger brother tripped and fell, he would surely fall into the swamp below the cliff.

The boy tried to run back to the other end of the path and intercept his brother from behind. As soon as he turned around, he realized that it was not feasible, and it took too long to run over, and by then he didn't know where his brother was walking and where the journey was going. It was better to wait for him to come slowly, the little boy hurriedly turned around, but his soul flew away, and there was no trace of his younger brother on the path.

He ran to the place where his brother had stood, and his wooden sword was left alone on the ground.

Suddenly I heard the cry of a baby from the bottom of the cliff. The little boy threw down his machete and vegetable basket and threw himself towards the edge of the cliff. Those bright pumpkin flowers, scattered messily all over the ground.