A huge red moon rose on the horizon, and the fields were dyed mottled with scarlet, and the sky was filled with a poignant and strange red mist. We were sitting under the loquat tree eating dinner, and a wisp of song was rippling in the wind. I listened closely, and the melody was particularly beautiful. Because it was in the Lingshan dialect, I couldn't hear the lyrics clearly, so the second uncle translated it for me in Mandarin:

I haven't seen you for a long time, I've seen you for a long time, and I have seen each other for a long time to taste, sister

I really want to see it for a long time, I am happy to see my sister, my sister

I understood that it was a villager singing an island love song. The owner of Huang Zhuang listened with bated breath like me, and I saw a flash of tears suddenly flashing in his eyes, "Every time I hear this song, I feel a little sad." His nose was a little clogged, and even his voice seemed to change tone. I nodded and said, "This song is really touching. "I think this song should evoke something in the heart of the owner of Huang Zhuang.

The second uncle put the rice bowl on the table, patted his thigh, and shouted, "Forget it, I'm going to sit on the melon rack tonight!" ”

Applejack tilted her head, squinted her eyes, and asked, "Why are you sitting on the melon stand?" ”

Master Huang and I also looked at the second uncle. The second uncle said: "Today is the Qixi Festival!" ”

Huang Zhuang's face was shocked, and he said casually: "I don't realize it's Tanabata." ”

I also sighed: "As soon as I enter the pleasant and deep sea, I don't know what year it is!" ”

"Look, magpie!" Applejack shouted.

We looked up at the sky, and the blackened magpie flew over our heads and flew all the way to the horizon. Like a giant roulette red moon rising in the western sky. The evening breeze drifts slightly, the magpie chirps loudly, and the love songs are melodious.

"The magpies have gone to the sky to build a magpie bridge!" The second uncle was so excited that his face turned red, as if he was drunk, and said, "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl have met at the bridge!" ”

The owner of Huang Zhuang and I looked at each other and smiled.

"Second uncle, do you want to peek at other people's meetings?" Applejack asked, squinting at her second uncle.

The second uncle disagreed, and said seriously: "Once a year, it's precious!" ”

Applejack looked disdainful and said, "You're not serious, you just want to peep into other people's privacy!" ”

The second uncle said, "You stinky boy, what kind of voyeurism is this?" This is a custom passed down from our ancestors! ”

Applejack said, "That's not good, it's a civilized society now, and the Cowherd and Weaver Girl also have the right to protect their privacy." ”

"It's okay not to look at it." The second uncle said, "Immortals date, mortals suffer." ”

"Why? Isn't it a good day? Applejack asks.

The second uncle said: "You don't know, the heavenly immortals want to meet, and the mortal husband and wife sleep in separate rooms." ”

"On the seventh day of the seventh month, cut the **, don't think about evil things." I smiled and said, "There is also a saying in my hometown, it is true that mortal couples are not allowed to have sex together on the night of Qixi Festival. The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl met in the sky, and we mortal couples, if we did something bad on this night, we would be seen by the gods and punished. ”

Applejack thought it was incredible. "Such a good night, hugging a woman, not doing something, worthy of the gods?" He muttered.

While we were chatting, a young villager walked into the Yiren Manor from the wooden bridge and said, "It's a festival, the village has invited a troupe to perform, and the village chief has called me to inform you of the past." ”

The owner of Huang Zhuang said: "Thank you for the invitation from the village. I'm a little unwell, so I won't go, and the second uncle, Ajie, and the reporter will go. ”

I'm quite interested. When I was a child, in my hometown, I often went to the theater with the adults on this night. The most local folk drama has never been forgotten.

Walking along the village road, the villagers greeted us with a smile.

On the side of the newly built cement road, two white-haired old farmers sat on a stone bench and chatted, and the moonlight poured poetically on the old people's bodies. When the old man saw us, he asked, "Why didn't the owner of Huang Zhuang come?" ”

I said, "He's not feeling well, so stay in the farm." ”

The old man said, "He is a good man, and everyone in our village likes him." ”

I laughed and said, "I'll go back and tell him." ”

I envy the reputation of the owner of Huang Zhuang. I think this is the purest friendship with the villagers.

In front of the temple gate on the edge of the drying field, more than a dozen ploughing cattle wearing big red flowers stand in a circle. Crowds outside the circle surged, and people gathered around from all directions. The villagers who led us into the village said: The ceremony of sacrificing the ox king is being held, praying for the safety of the ploughing cow, and looking forward to the early meeting of the cowherd and the weaver girl.

Adjacent to the village temple, ten tables of eight immortals are lined up, and the tables are covered with big red paper, on which dozens of boiled golden roosters are placed. The villagers proudly told me, "On July 7th, every family is going to kill a big rooster." "I asked why? The villagers said: "This night the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl meet, if there is no rooster to report, they will never be separated." ”

Applejack said to me secretly, "That chicken tastes good, pure Lingshan rice rooster, crispy skin and tight meat." ”

The second uncle said to Applejack, "If you have the ability, go steal one and eat it." ”

I laughed.

The drying field under the big banyan tree is already full of lights.

The big stage was erected under the banyan tree, and several actors in ancient costumes ran around on the stage. The villagers had packed up their work in the fields early, had dinner, bathed, and gathered in front of the stage carrying stools and chairs of different lengths and heights.

The village chief came and sat directly below the stage with us. He said that the play to be performed tonight is called "The Legend of Lin Shan", and the old theater troupe in the town specially made a play for Lingshan Village, which is a play left by their ancestors, and it is also a play that they have heard since childhood, and it is also a play born and raised in Lingshan. The village chief said that the ancestors must invite the opera troupe to perform on this day for the safety of the descendants surnamed Baolin. This tradition has been passed on from generation to generation and continues to the present day.

When the village chief introduced us, several women quarreled over a good position. The village chief got up and went to mediate. Applejack is about to change positions, and it turns out that he sees a few beautiful girls in front of him. When he was about to squeeze over, the second uncle grabbed him and said, "Don't go, be careful of the little brother in the village!" Applejack muttered, "I don't want to be a girl, what are you afraid of!" ”

At this time, the gongs, drums, and flutes were blown and beaten, and Shengdan Jingmo and Chou took turns to take the stage.

A thought and a song have a unique charm on this moonlit night.

There are too many people watching the play, and the voices are noisy. I couldn't understand the drama or the music. After sitting for a while, he slipped out of the drying field under the pretext of going to the toilet and planned to go back to the village.

As I walked out of the village, the laughter and music of the villagers came from time to time; The insects hidden in the grass on the side of the road also played a symphony, the melody was sometimes rapid, sometimes soothing, and it vividly litigated the night of the Chinese Valentine's Day in the countryside.

As I passed a loofah patch, I heard laughter and talking under the melon trellises. I was startled, and when I looked closely, it turned out that several girls were hiding inside. I will smile heartily - just like the legend of my hometown, on the quiet night of Qixi Festival, if these girls to be married can hear the whispers of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl when they meet, they will get a thousand years of unswerving love in the future.

I walked out of Lingshan Village, and the night was quiet.

Good night, Tanabata in Lingshan!

Good night, happy people!

When I returned to the manor, the moon hung like a disk in the hollow.

The lights were turned off in the owner's house. I think he must have slept.

I walked into the bamboo house, brewed a cup of rich green tea, and then, holding the teacup, moved a chair, and sat under the passion fruit vine trellis by the path - I didn't really want to see the Cowherd and Weaver Girl meet, I just wanted to reminisce about the fun of childhood and enjoy this silent foreign land Tanabata.

Nini left her three kittens behind and ran over to stay with me.

Under the street lamp, Nini's belly was drooping, ** clearly exposed outside the fur, it should be pregnant. It wrapped itself around my trouser legs, and for a moment, lay down at my feet. I flicked it with my hand, and it didn't react, it was so quiet and obedient.

The world is so quiet, a kind of loneliness and loneliness arises spontaneously, and some thoughts still come to mind as scheduled, lingering and not going away—I often feel sorry for myself that while I am determined to cut off the past, I am so soft that I am so obsessed with the past, and let the past be unremanded.

I am reminded of an incident from a few years ago.

The Poets' Association organized us to have a wind collection experience, and let us stay in a temple deep in the mountains and old forests. According to the plan, we had to live there for five days. At first glance, a good environment: the ancient banyan is vigorous, the shade is like a cover, the green walls and red tiles, and the loneliness is like an abyss. However, after a day, I couldn't take it anymore. It wasn't the bitterness of the three meals a day that made me uncomfortable, but the loneliness of the five in the morning and nine in the evening. That night, I tossed and turned and couldn't sleep, and stared at a few moths on the windowpane for the night. By dawn, I couldn't save a second, so I got up and drove away...... Poetry critics later commented on me: The six roots of Buddhism are not pure, and the mixed poetry altar is not sufficient.

I couldn't have imagined that many years later, I would break into this boundless loneliness like a moth to a flame...... While I admired my courage, confusion also crept at me from time to time: will your soul really rest here? Will your footsteps really stop here? It is often said that the past is like the wind - the past is the wind, is there still a place for the soul? is like the owner of Huang Zhuang who lives in seclusion and Yirenzhuang, he says that he forgets everything, but is he really disconnected from his memory? …… How I wish I could be a fish in a pond – my brother David said: fish only have 7 seconds of memory, and after 7 seconds, everything starts again, and the cycle repeats. How I wish I had been a chicken or a duck – they were just playing shoulder to shoulder, throwing food away, and forgetting each other......

The night breeze blew from the other side of the field, the frogs sounded one by one, and the green tea in the cup hissed and stretched the emerald green leaves. I looked up at the night sky, the full moon hung silently, the stars were shining, and the Milky Way was running across it. I don't know if there will be anyone like me at this time, quietly looking up at the vast starry sky. I found the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl, saw them facing each other from afar, and saw the Milky Way rippling. I heard the beautiful singing of thousands of magpies, and I saw the cowherd holding the crooked cow lock with the lovely child Weaver Girl. I watched them walk across the magpie bridge and towards each other......

I felt like my body was floating, rising...... For a moment, I felt my body stuck in a cloud, and I struggled hard, kicked desperately, clicked - I heard the cloud break, and then I could clearly feel my body falling......

I woke up and found myself dozing.

At this time, I saw the owner of Huang Zhuang -

In the moonlight, he limped along the pond path with his hoe on his shoulder. I watched with bated breath as he passed by me, as he disappeared into the forest at the end of the trail. I sensed that his figure was so lonely and determined.

The night birds chirped three or two times in the forest, and the world was cool and silent.

I followed.

The owner of the Yellow Village stopped, bent down, pouted his buttocks, and scooped up the ground with a hoe. He dug hard and religiously, his sturdy ass rising and falling in the moonlight, and the hardened earth creaked loosely. In a few moments, he dug a big hole. Then he put down his hoe, dusted his hands, got down on his knees, faced the pit, and began to mutter......

I stood behind that tree and listened with bated breath.

Still not very clear, a few words came to my ears intermittently with the night wind: "...... Break off...... No...... Put...... Abandon ......"

I thought about it, but decided not to bother him.

I stepped back to Zhuliao.

Nini is gone, and should go back to her den to accompany the kittens.

From the moment I stepped into Yirenzhuang, I had a very peculiar feeling in my heart. I can't tell you what it was or what it was. All I know is that I can feel this feeling all the time, it is present in every ray of my sight, in every sound I hear, in every breath I take...... It presented itself to me in a seren, crude, primitive, mysterious state, and drew me to death; It was like a picture that had appeared so many times in my dreams, familiar to me, but alarmed and even speechless.

The world is silent, and the sky is far away.

The night breeze wafted the rich fragrance, and loneliness once again was as cool as water permeating my body. I listened attentively, and the poignant song came from afar:

I haven't seen you for a long time, I've seen you for a long time, and I have seen each other for a long time to taste, sister

I really want to see it after a long time, I am happy to see my sister, my sister is ......