After Village Chief Lin left, the night completely fell.

A great moon poked its head out on the western horizon, and a night breeze blew with the wetness of the field. The owner of the Yellow Village turned on an electric lamp hanging on the branch of the loquat tree, and the dim light was scattered on the ground.

"Bring the tea to the bottom of the tree, and I'll sit down with the reporter." The owner of Huang Zhuang said to the second uncle.

The second uncle quickly set up a table, chairs and a blue and white porcelain tea set under the loquat tree, and then brought a pot of hot tea to the table. The second uncle poured tea into the two blue and white porcelain teacups and introduced to me: "This is the health tea prepared by our Huang Zhuang master with fresh mint and loquat leaves, which cleanses the liver and detoxifies the fire!" ”

The teacup rises with a strong smell of herbal tea, and the tea in the cup is like golden soup. The owner of Huang Zhuang glanced at the second uncle and said with a smile: "You are really a 'health expert', everything is related to health preservation!" ”

"Good health, good health, coming to Yirenzhuang is health." The second uncle laughed.

"Quitting alcohol is the best way to maintain your health." Lord Huang Zhuang said indifferently.

"That's, that's." The second uncle rubbed his hands and nodded in response.

"Where's Applejack?" The owner of Huang Zhuang asked the second uncle.

"After dinner, I climbed the roof to have fun." The second uncle pointed to the row of houses in the woods at the end of the path. Lord Huang frowned and shook his head, as if he was sighing, and seemed to say to me: "What's so good about the outside world?" ”

"You talk, I'm going to the play." The second uncle said as he lifted a bamboo chair and walked to the other side of the yard.

I didn't know what "climbing the roof for fun" was, and I didn't want to ask.

I picked up the teacup and took a sip, the tip of my tongue was slightly bitter, and my mouth was full of fragrance, "Good tea, good tea, but a little bitter!" I smacked my lips.

"Floating life is like tea, sweet and bitter thoughts. Sweet in suffering. Master Huang also took a sip and said with an indifferent smile to me.

"How many years has Master Huang been here?" I asked.

Master Huang hesitated, looked at me, and said, "Six...... It's been a year. ”

"Six years?!" I cried out in surprise. I really admire him for being here for six years.

Master Huang nodded, added some tea to my teacup, and said slowly: "Six years, it's not long, it's not long, it's a blink of an eye." It's not short, you can do a lot of things, and you can make soy sauce when you raise a child. ”

His tone was flat and his voice was subtle. "Playing soy sauce" - I want to laugh a little, but now it is popular in the city to use the word "soy sauce" to mock boring people who pour water on online forums.

I looked at the owner of Huang Zhuang and said, "You can really endure loneliness...... Six years, you can make a fortune! ”

The owner of Huang Zhuang smiled indifferently again, picked up the teacup, took a sip of tea, and looked at me. "Rent a pond land, raise some fish, and by the way, raise some chickens and ducks and grow some fruits and vegetables. It's just a fish farmer, and it has nothing to do with getting rich. He said.

I could hear that the strangeness of the first acquaintance made him speak with some restraint.

The moon had risen halfway to the height of a tree, and the moonlight shone through the gaping leaves of the wide loquat trees in the courtyard. The moonlight is like water, the light is dim, and everything is cool.

The second uncle sat in the bamboo chair at the other end of the courtyard, the radio hanging around his neck came out with gongs and drums choking the melodious huqin, and a woman's sharp voice sang a drama: I am still afraid of the cold from the deep boudoir, and the warm wind blows the dream to Lin'an......

I always felt that the eyes of the owner of Huang Zhuang were inquiring about something, what was hidden in his smile, and a disguised ease made the chat deliberate and far-fetched.

However, we were still trying to make small talk.

"Where's the journalist? Listening to the accent is not an islander, right? "Master Huang asked me.

"My hometown is Hunan." I say.

"Hunan is a good place." The owner of Huang Zhuang coughed and said, "Eight hundred miles of Dongting, the smoke is vast. ”

I said, "Now there are no 800 miles, and the lake is surrounded to create fields, and only the bottom of the pot is destroyed." ”

Master Huang nodded and said, "It's a pity to destroy it." ”

"What does Master Huang think of the Hunan people?" I'm also looking for a topic to talk about.

"Hunan people are righteous." Master Huang smiled and said.

I also smiled and said, "Hunan has produced heroes and barbarians since ancient times. ”

Master Huang looked at me and nodded.

"Where is Master Huang Zhuang from?" I asked curiously.

Huang Zhuang picked up the teacup, his lips touched lightly on the rim of the cup, drank some tea lightly, hesitated for a moment, raised his head, and smiled at me: "It's a person from the island city." ”

I noticed another alert in his smile.

"Talking about reporters, this poor and remote place is not as good as the conditions of the island city, especially at night, when the lights are dark and deserted, will you get used to it?" Huang Zhuang obviously changed the topic.

I took a sip of tea and said, "I'm just looking for a quiet place to stay." ”

"Are you tired of living in the city?" Huang Zhuang asked casually.

"I'm a little tired and tired, and I want to come out and breathe." I laughed.

The owner of Huang Zhuang nodded thoughtfully, and said: "Life is a lifetime, busy and busy, looking for the happiness you want, in fact, ......" He paused, looked at me, and continued, "Actually, being at peace in your heart is the greatest happiness. His voice was a little low, a little faint, as if it had come from a distant place. When he spoke, there was always a faint smile on his face, but from time to time there was a sharp and vigilant afterglow in his eyes. This makes me vaguely feel that this owner is not an ordinary rural fish farmer.

A breeze blew across the field.

The owner looked up at the sky - I was surprised to find that when the owner looked up at the sky, a shadow of paradox appeared on his face. I also looked at the sky, where the moon was breaking through a thick cloud for a bird's-eye view of the earth.

"Second uncle, come here." He shouted to the second uncle.

The second uncle turned off the radio and walked over.

"You take the reporter to rest - just stay in the middle room." He pointed to the bamboo houses on the pond, "The key is hanging by the door. When he had finished speaking, he stood up and said to me, "Talking about reporters, go to bed early in the countryside, and rest." As he spoke, he staggered into his stone flat-roofed house.

I got up too.

Along the stone path, my second uncle took me to a bamboo hut on the roof of a pond full of passion fruit vines, and the words "Moonlight on the Lotus Pond" were written crookedly with a brush on the eyebrows of the door. "That's it." The second uncle said to me.

I took a look at this bamboo liao, which has rural characteristics. The bamboo liao is built of bamboo, with two floors, a house on the top and an overhead below, a bit like a stilted building inhabited by ethnic minorities. Zhuliao straddled the pond with one foot and stood in the field with one foot. The pond water is white, and the field is black. One white and one black, the contrast is profound. I don't understand why Huang Zhuang let Huang Zhuang let it cross the water, but I believe that Huang Zhuang Zhuang's design must have a metaphor that is not known to outsiders.

The second uncle opened the door and I walked in.

There were yellowed newspapers on the walls, a large old-fashioned wooden bed with a banana fan, white-washed sheets and quilt covers stacked on top of the bed, and a small table by the windowsill with a kerosene lamp with a lampshade and a small old-fashioned Yangtze River radio. There is a small shelf next to the table with simple toiletries. In the corner of the wall there is a clay bowl, filled with red clay, and planted with a nightshade that has grown leaves. The whole room was simple but clean and tidy. "This is the guest room that the owner of Huang Zhuang prepared for his friends in the city." The second uncle stood by the door and confessed to me, "If the power goes out, light the kerosene lamp; If it's too hot, shake the banana fan; If it's a bit boring, listen to the radio. ”

I smiled and nodded.

I pulled my phone out of my travel bag and looked for the plug board to charge it.

"I forgot to tell you, there's no cell phone signal here." The second uncle said.

"So how do you get in touch with the outside?" I asked, a little lost.

The second uncle shook his head and said with a treacherous face: "If you really want to contact the outside, just find Ajie, that ghost boy has a way." ”

I laughed and said, "Haha, interesting, travel back to the last century." ”

The second uncle smiled wryly at me and said, "That's it...... Then you should rest early. He turned and walked out of the room. Along the way, the radio around the second uncle's neck sounded the gongs and drums and the melodious huqin, and I clearly heard the woman singing complainingly:

It is still from the deep boudoir to the cold, and the warm wind blows the dream to Lin'an......

I pushed the window open.

A bright moon hung quietly in the sky above Yirenzhuang, it was the moon that could not be seen in the city, it was big and round. The vast sky was dotted with a few cold stars, and the field stretched out as far as the eye could see, like a huge empty silver-gray background board. In the moonlight, the breeze gently caressed the fluffy and fat weeds of the field. I could even hear the sound of crickets under the green vines of passion fruit by the window.

I washed up and climbed into bed.

However, I couldn't sleep. I will close my eyes one time, and open them the other; One moment he closed his eyes, and the other he opened them...... It's just a toss. It seems that after living in the island city for a long time, and suddenly living in this rural pond and bamboo liao, a sense of loneliness arises spontaneously, making you unable to enter the role all of a sudden.

There was a whirring sound outside the window, and I thought it was wind. I was about to get up and close the window...... At this time, I saw a figure jumping past the window. I stared at the window, "Who?" "I was shocked.

The figure had jumped through the window.

Instinctively, I quickly got out of bed and gently opened a crack in the bamboo door.

In the moonlight, I recognized that it was the back of the owner of Huang Zhuang. Carrying a hoe, he limped past the bamboo liao step by step, and walked along the pond path to the front.

"Working in the middle of the night?" I think it's weird. I opened the door, walked out of the bamboo house, and followed the owner of Huang Zhuang silently.

At the end of the trail is the woods.

It was a casuarina forest, and at the edge of the forest was a barren bush land.

The owner of the Yellow Village stopped in the wasteland.

I watched him from behind a tree around the corner of the pond.

I saw him bend down, pout his ass, and dig up the ground with a hoe. I suddenly remembered the Zhou Diapi who learned to crow in the middle of the night to let the long-term workers work in the morning - "What a slam on the door!" I muttered to myself.

He dug hard and religiously, his firm ass rising and falling in the moonlight, and I could almost hear the loose "squeak" of the hardened earth under his hoe. In the moonlight, I suddenly felt that the way he was digging the ground looked very much like Van Gogh's oil painting of "Farmers Digging the Ground". In a few moments, he dug a big hole. And then something strange happened - he put down his hoe, faced the pit, got down on his knees, and spoke into the hole!

I tensed my nerves and listened with bated breath. Although I couldn't hear it clearly, there was still a few words that came to my ears intermittently with the night wind: "...... Don't give up...... Uncompromising ......"

Who is he talking to?

What not to give up?

What not to compromise?

I wondered if I was dreaming, I pinched my thigh and it hurt. The night breeze in March was so cool that I almost sneezed. I'm sure I'm not in a dream.

After the owner of Huang Zhuang finished speaking, he sat down by the pit and smoked a cigarette. After about half an hour, he stood up, patted the dirt on his buttocks, picked up his hoe, and limped back to his hut......

That night, I couldn't sleep anyway, and I always saw the mysterious and alert eyes of the owner of Huang Zhuang in front of my eyes. Once again, I felt that there should be something hidden in his heart, that there should be something hidden in him. I thought about it until almost dawn, and then I fell asleep in a daze. I had a dream in which I saw a mass of snakes and a group of cats coming out of a huge hot pot, and they were chasing me. I ran as hard as I could, hearing countless sobs of resentment along the way...... Immediately afterward, I was awakened by the sound of roosters crowing.