introduction

People in the mountainous area of Chunmuwan know that the descendants of the four rooms of the Xiyan family have a family tree that has been passed down from generation to generation.

It is said that the Xiyan family moved from the plain area to the hilly and mountainous area of Chunmu Bay after thousands of years and countless dynasties.

The people in the mountains of Chunmuwan have also been passed down from generation to generation, and in the genealogy, not only the evolution of the family for thousands of years is recorded in detail, but there are also more important things.

It is rumored by foreigners that whoever gets this genealogy can control the entire Chunmuwan mountainous area, control people's birth, old age, sickness and death, and truly live a day in the cave and a year in the world.

It is also said that whoever gets this genealogy can enter a paradise-like place and enjoy a peaceful and prosperous world, free from diseases, wars, and famines, and their children and grandchildren will continue to reproduce.

It is also said that if anyone masters this genealogy, he can find a golden mountain and the entrance to the modern city, where there is endless glory and wealth, and countless unimaginable high technology, and he can take whatever he wants, and come to whatever he wants.

The rumors about the Xiyan family tree have been passed down from generation to generation, and with the relocation of the Xiyan family, they have also been passed down for thousands of years, and it seems that they will never get tired. But what the genealogy is like, and what is strange in it, no one has ever seen it, and no one has enjoyed it.

Tsubakiwan is still poor, still chaotic, still not having enough to eat, and rumors are still spreading.

The people of the Xiyan family never believe rumors, do not spread rumors, do not spread rumors, and do not refute rumors.

And the descendants of the fourth room of the Xiyan family are even more low-key, unassuming, and do not admit that there is a family tree in the family in public, and when asked in a hurry, he pointed to the labor cloth pants that he had eaten without the last meal, lifted the holes and patches, and said fiercely, "If I had such a baby in my family, I would have enjoyed the blessings of Qingfu a long time ago, where would I still suffer from this sin!"

In fact, the people of the Xiyan family know that there is indeed a genealogy in the clan, but they don't know where it is, anyway, only the two people who handed it over know, and even the other family members of the family where the genealogy is stored don't know. Now, this genealogy is not stored in a four-room house, but in a three-room house, and this three-room is not the third room of the grandfather's generation, but the third room of the father's generation.

This is where our story begins.

As the sun sinks in the west, dusk rises, and the twilight is in all directions, and the small mountain village on the mountainside opposite Tsubaki Bay is smiling with smoke. The plume of smoke rose into the air with the twilight haze, forming a parallel layer of clouds not far above the roof, slowly surging into the distance.

There are seventy or eighty families in this village, all of them farmers, who grow rice, corn, wheat and vegetables in front of and behind the house, raise some chickens, ducks, fish and geese, chat with each other in their spare time, coarse tea and light rice, live a free and happy life, and live quietly like this.

A family in the middle of the village to the west is the third room of the protagonist's father's generation that this article is going to talk about. The family tree of Xiyan, which is spread to be miraculous, is in their house. The genealogy was passed down from the fourth grandfather to the third room more than ten years ago.

In addition to the father, the family, including the mother and children, had no idea that there was such a baby pimple at home.

My father came home after a busy day, washing his hands and dusting the dirt off his body. Her mother was stir-frying in the stove house, and the smell of oil smoke in the house choked her with a cough. A little girl of fifteen or sixteen years old sat on a small stool in front of the stove and added wood to the fire, and the light of the flame made her face look red.

"Daddy, it's time to eat!" said the mother, "Sister Man, tell your brother to eat." The little girl said yes and ran out. After a while, three stout young men walked in from outside the house, "Mother, what is delicious today?"

The mother did not answer, but sat down on the bench and picked up the rice bowl.

In front of her was a square table for eight people, with room for two people on each side, and six people sat down loosely.

After a while, my father took a cigarette pouch and walked out of the hall, came to the door of the weeping flowers, and called the three young men to come out and talk together. "Rest early, and tomorrow we will go up to the mountains to hunt. ”

The father didn't say much, his voice was not loud, and he didn't have any extra explanations.

The three young men turned around and walked in, fetched water and bathed, went upstairs to blow the lamp and slept, and said nothing all night.

The next day, just after dawn, the man woke up his three sleeping sons, ate some food haphazardly, put on a dog sled, and set off. The boys, who had never gone out hunting before, were excited, talking loudly about where they would hunt and what animals they would hunt.

On their sleighs, there were bows and arrows, slingshots, killing knives, dry food cakes, a bag of rice, half a bag of potatoes, a few thick cotton clothes, and two beddings. The woman and the little girl watched as the figures of the father and son disappeared completely at the bend in the mountain road, and then stepped into the hall.

At this time, it was actually only late autumn, and it had not yet snowed, and the ground was a hard mud road, from which the sleigh cut two shallow trails. The sled is three farmer dogs, the kind that doubles as hunting dogs in the spare time, not fat or thin, not big or small, honest all the way, not very clever, like a farmer's temperament. Because the friction is still relatively large, the hound is more difficult to pick up, and the father and son did not sit on the sleigh, but walked on both sides of the left and right. In some places, potholes or rocks block the way, and they have to help the dogs pull the sleigh forward.

This stops and goes, but the peasants are used to walking, and on the whole they are relatively fast.

In the early afternoon, a group of four of them and three dogs had come to the bottom of a basin like the bottom of a pot, surrounded by high green hills, stone mountains, and ancient trees on the mountaintops, and there were not many trees on the top of the mountain, and occasionally a few big trees, standing there sparsely, looking down on them as they entered the mountain.

At this time, the road was gone, hidden under clumps of dead grass and bushes, and the sleds could no longer walk, so they had to disassemble them and carry them on their shoulders.

The three hounds ran around them, as if they had suddenly discovered a new world, nodding their heads and drooling.

But the father did not care about this, dodging the thorns and sharp stones sticking out of the roadside, and strode forward until he came to a tall cypress tree, laid down what he had on his shoulder, drew his killing knife from his bag, and slashed it under the cypress tree, and in a moment he cut down a bunch of thatch under the tree, and trampled it under his feet.