Time is a really magical thing, it can make many things say goodbye to the present and become a thing of the past, as if deliberately eliminating the evidence of their existence.

But I have to admit that what is more magical than time is human memory.

People take things that don't exist and engrave them in their minds through memory, and then every now and then they play around with them and end up in the recyclable bins – our brains.

Zhang Yuanfu is turning 90 years old this year.

Many years ago, when Zhang Yuanfu was still a young man in his twenties, one day, he wore a green military hat, a green military uniform, an armed belt around his waist, a red armband on his left arm, and a red book and iron rod in his hand. When Zhang Yuanfu and the others left, they left behind a dilapidated ancestral ancestral hall and Zhang Wenhua lying in the corner of the wall dying.

It's not that he didn't stop it, but because he stopped it, he was beaten half to death.

One day later, Zhang Wenhua died in his own home.

Because there is no doctor, there is no money.

Zhang Wenhua couldn't understand how Uncle Zhang's child, who was smiling and calling himself the day before, suddenly became so vicious and brutal.

Before he died, he suddenly remembered his son, who had been lowered from the tree by himself only a few days ago. He regretted why he didn't believe that his son had seen the hairy monster, he regretted why he didn't resist and rescued his son from the villagers earlier, and he regretted that he actually scolded his son for being a collective scum when he was suffering.

So maybe this is my own retribution.

So what about Zhang Yuanfu's retribution? No. He was not held accountable for the phrase "rebellion is justified", and finally lived to be 90 years old in peace and health.

Among the "brothers" who smashed the ancestral hall of the Zhang family with Zhang Yuanfu and his entourage, there was a person named Li Xianjian, who regretted what he had done afterwards and wanted to go to the mountains to collect some medicine for Zhang Wenhua, but he met a small town in the mountains and saw a lot of army people and long-haired monsters, so he believed the words of the "brother" who died a few days ago. Li Xianjin was discovered by the troops, was shot, and escaped by luck when the long-haired monster rioted. It's just that the gun was too powerful and broke the bone of the left arm, and it had to be amputated to save a life.

Li Xianjin still had a secret that he didn't tell his family, in fact, not only his left arm, but also his lifeline was shot, and he only told his "brother" Zhang Yuanfu about it.

Seven years later, Li Xianjin got a wife, and he had no children for two years after marriage. He knew it was his problem, but he couldn't admit it. He was an "activist" and "advanced figure" in the village, and he could not lose these honors because of his secrets, and he was laughed at by others. So he took the old mother and drove away his daughter-in-law.

Later, the woman came back with a child in her arms and went crazy.

The people in the village began to call her a crazy woman, and that child Xiaomao.

Zhang Yuanfu watched these things silently, and occasionally helped the crazy woman and gave her some food and clothing.

After another three years, the chaos was set right and the dust settled. Zhang Yuanfu took off his green military hat, took off his green military uniform, tied it with an armed belt, and locked it in an iron cabinet together with the red armband that he was proud of and the red book that pointed out the direction of his life, and never took it out from under the bed again.

Then he became a farmer in peace, contracted a piece of land, worked hard, lived to be 90 years old, safe and healthy, and told the story of the past to the young man named Jiang Tian in front of him on the day of his 90th birthday.

"Thank you." After Jiang Tian said lightly, he left the old man Zhang Yuanfu's room and came to the open space in front of the house.

It was noon, and there was a very dilapidated hut not far away, with faint smoke.

"That's Uncle Mao's house." Xiao Zhang didn't know when he came to Jiang Tian's side, "He has lived there alone for a long time, and most of the people in the village don't know where he comes from, only that his family is long gone." It was only now that I learned from my grandfather that he was the son of the mad woman. ”

During the conversation, a gray-haired, thin-skinned man in his fifties walked out of the house with a large wooden basin and came to a stone-polished edge next to the house outside. The tub seemed to be heavy, and the man struggled to walk.

"Uncle Mao." Xiao Zhang shouted and walked towards the man, and Jiang Tian followed.

Uncle Xiao Mao was putting the big wooden basin on the ground next to the stone mill, and when he heard Xiao Zhang's shout, he turned around and waved at him with a smile.

"Uncle Mao, grinding soy milk again? Didn't you just make a big pot a few days ago? ”

"It was for the guests at Uncle Yuanfu's ninetieth birthday banquet, and today's one was specially made for your kid. You kid, you can't come back for a few years, and Uncle Xiao Mao has nothing to give you, so I plan to make more and let you take it back to drink. Uncle Mao said with a smile.

"Uncle Mao, you're still interesting enough!" Xiao Zhang smiled and patted Uncle Xiao Mao's shoulder, but Uncle Xiao Mao suddenly coughed violently, and Xiao Zhang was frightened and at a loss.

Seeing this, Jiang Tian hurriedly stepped forward to gently stroke Uncle Mao's back, and after about half a minute, Uncle Mao's cough slowly subsided, but his face was still flushed.

"Okay, you kid, you are kind enough to be a donkey's liver and lungs, and you want to kill me."

"I, I don't know." Xiao Zhang said anxiously and laughing.

"You're a policeman, this slap almost killed me, do you think I'm still as good as you were when you were a child?" Uncle Xiao Mao said with a smile.

Xiao Zhang silently looked at Uncle Xiao Mao's gray hair, wrinkles on his face, and thin body, and then realized that Uncle Xiao Mao was almost sixty years old, and he was already old, and his nose was sour and his eyes were moist.

"Uncle Mao......"

"Okay, okay, I know you didn't mean to, it's okay, I'm kidding you, hehe." Uncle Xiao Mao looked at Jiang Tian and said with a smile, "Thank you little brother just now, what do you call it?" ”

"It's okay, it's okay, little hair...... Forehead......" Jiang Tian was speechless for a while, and he didn't know what to call Uncle Xiaomao.

Uncle Xiao Mao saw what Jiang Tian was thinking and said; "Just call me Uncle Mao, the juniors in this village are all called like this, don't think it's strange."

"Okay, abrupt. Uncle Xiao Mao, my name is Jiang Tian, I am a friend of Brother Zhang, I heard that his grandfather was 90 years old, so I wanted him to take me here to play by the way, hehe. ”

"Yes, yes, the child is under a lot of pressure to study, so he just came out to relax."

Jiang Tian secretly pursed his lips and said in his heart: Why do you call me a child one by one, I'm already eighteen years old.

However, Jiang Tian nodded "innocently" on the surface.

"That's okay, Uncle Mao, you are busy first, I'll go see if there is anything else to help with at grandpa's birthday banquet, go first."

"Okay, you're going to get busy."

After leaving Uncle Mao's house, Jiang Tian asked Xiao Zhang, "Uncle Xiao Mao has always lived in that broken house like this?" ”

"Yes, for as long as I can remember, Uncle Xiao Mao has always been a person. Now that I think about it, when I was a child, the old people in the village, except for my grandfather, were not very friendly to him and did not associate with him much. A few of us children revolve around him all day long, because he can always tell us some strange things in the mountains, trees dozens of meters high, birds the size of a rooster that can fly, and wild people with colorful fur tens of centimeters long all over their bodies. He said his mother told him all about it when he was a child. Now that he knows what happened back then, he knows how his mother could know so much. ”

"But now it seems that the people in the village are still good to Uncle Mao, and they will let Uncle Mao help grind soy milk."

Xiao Zhang nodded, "Yes, probably people now won't remember those things back then, after all, those people in the past have also passed away, and the dust has returned to dust." ”

At this time, Jiang Tian saw Xu Ang beckoning to him not far away and walked over to this side.