The air in my hometown is still so fresh, walking on the dirt road of the field house constantly reminiscing about the happy childhood here as a child, and often listening to the meat jokes and ghost stories that the adults at the entrance of the village put together after dinner, most of which are about the strange experiences of my grandfather.

Grandpa is like a legend in the village, full of mysterious colors, as if there is nothing that grandpa can't do, but in my memory grandpa is a very powerful carpenter, when I was a child, the toys were carved out by him, there are cars, pistols, wooden people, so that the village friends are envious around me.

In fact, grandpa is a very dull person, he has rarely seen him laugh a few times, and everyone doesn't know why he has become like this, maybe only grandma knows.

Most of the time he was doing carpentry, day or night, whenever he had free time, he would go to planing wood, and often he would do something weird, and he couldn't tell if it was an animal or something else, much like an abstract painting in an oil painting.

Sometimes, when he was in a good mood, he would tell me a lot about his time as a river worker and a hydropower plant.

He said that the Yangtze River is one of the mother rivers of the Chinese nation, ancient and long, and not as colorful as the story of the Yellow River, because no one wants to reveal many stories that have happened, and no one dares to tell them.

One Chinese New Year's Eve, there was a section of the Yangtze River when he was smoking and chatting with a few workers after eating and eating on the river, and heard a loud rumbling sound from the bottom of the river from a distance, and the river water boiled and flew more than ten meters high, as if something was going to rush out of the water, frightened a few of them to run away, and returned to the shed to tell everyone about it, and an older old river worker persuaded the workers who wanted to look at the river to see the strangeness, saying that there was a dragon coming out to breathe, and it was best not to disturb, otherwise something would happen.

Another year, a certain section of the river was cut off, and everyone rushed to dig sand in the rising water, and as soon as they arrived at the river, they saw that the riverbed was full of black filaments, like human hair spread on the silt, and the scalp of people who looked at it was numb.

The old river worker stopped everyone from going down to the riverbed, saying that it was a perennial ghost who died in the Yangtze River and would be dragged away as a substitute for the dead.

Just when everyone was about to believe it, the water suddenly roared upstream and rushed down, instantly flooding the riverbed.

Later, one time that section of the riverbed dried up again, and Grandpa got there, and the black hair covered in the riverbed was never seen again.

The rare things in the Yangtze River are no less than those of the Yellow River, and the danger is also on par with the Yellow River. Grandpa said that one year when they went down to the river to dredge, they found that an iron chain as thick as an adult's waist was exposed under the mud.

After digging seven or eight meters deep before they could see the end, they clearly heard a rumbling sound from the depths of the pit, as if something huge was breaking free from the chain.

Everyone backfilled the soil with horror on their faces, afraid that something would really come out of the ground, and they all walked away without saying a word after filling it out, but it was obvious that they were already afraid.

Later, I thought about it, too, how big must it be with such a thick iron chain to tie something? It's something that everyone can be afraid of.

It wasn't until years later that I learned what was being chained to the entire deep waters of the Yangtze River.

Of course, that's all for later.

Time turned back, I walked into the entrance of the village to say hello to the villagers passing by, walked back to the ancestral house, and saw the old locust tree in front of the house from a distance.

Grandma, with all white hair and bent waist, sat under the tree peeling beans, when she saw my approaching figure, her cloudy eyes gave a hint of surprise, at this moment I felt a slight pain in my heart, the corners of my eyes began to moisten, I vaguely remember the last time I saw my grandmother, she was not so old.

Seeing her trembling and staggering, I immediately ran over to help her.

"Grandma!" I exhaled softly a name I hadn't called in years.

Grandma's teeth are about to fall out, but when I see her smile, my heart is full of happiness.

After having lunch at home and chatting with my grandmother for a while, I walked into the side room, where my grandfather's belongings before his death were piled up, looking at the neat and spotless wood carvings and tools, I couldn't help but sigh at my grandmother's lifelong love for my grandfather.

Soon turned out a heavy suitcase from under the cabinet, and took out a grandfather's treasure thing, I used to hear grandpa often mention it, saying that this thing is a treasure, can subdue demons and dispel evil spirits.

I certainly didn't believe it at the time.

A cold chill came from that object, which had never been looked at carefully before, and now realized that it was a stonemason's chisel. The difference is that the pitch-black chisel depicts strange patterns and looks mysterious, and the chisel tip is also very sharp.

The chisel was about the length of a man's elbow, so I put it in the backpack I had brought, and when I turned around, I saw my grandmother leaning against the door and watching, not knowing what to say, just staring at me in fear.

When I said goodbye to my grandmother, she wanted to send me out of the village. But now that her body is getting worse and worse, she stopped at the door of the house and asked her not to send it.

I had just taken a few steps when she suddenly stopped me.

"Sun, where are you going with it?"

I turned around, not knowing how to explain to her old man, did I tell her that I was going to help my friend get a hole?

When my grandfather was alive, he never let the family go to the river or the deep cave, saying that there were awesome things in it, and not to disturb them.

"A friend went out with me and said that there was a collector who liked to collect some old things, and I didn't remember that my grandfather used to leave such a thing."

Grandma sighed and shook her head: "That's not a good thing, after your grandfather brought it back, the whole person became a god, he threw his soul in that long river, you are going to follow his old path!" ”

Seeing my grandmother's painful appearance, I comforted her and said, "How is it possible, this thing is a dead thing, and it can affect a person, so I will show it to others and return it." ”

Grandma's cloudy eyes looked at me, and her toothless mouth moved to say something, but she still didn't say it.

His hands drove me away from the entrance of the village, and when I turned back, I could still see the rickety figure by the river at the entrance of the village.

Grandma looked at the figure walking away in a blur, walked back to the old locust tree with a hunched back, and looked at the dense leaves in a daze.

"Old man, why do you have to leave something harmful when you die, back then you were able to drill that hole, people came back, but the soul was lost, now our grandson is as reckless as you, satisfied, your Xia family is so worry-free, I will soon come down to accompany you, and when the time comes, we will bless our good grandson safely."

The old man leaned against the locust tree and muttered to himself, and a cloudy tear slipped from the corner of his eye.