Arrived with the outpost, and bad news.

There are more people under the water than on the water.

The only ones who remained came with the bodies they could find.

The cry in the courtyard was louder than the rain, and silence became synonymous with Lu Xuyuan.

The boy seemed to be as wet as Lu Xuyuan had seen him last time, drenched, pale, and silent.

The mourning hall was arranged, and the boy lay there, and there was only one old man in the courtyard, leaning around.

Lu Xuyuan was rushed to take care of the girl.

Since she fainted and woke up that day, the girl was stunned, the road was still not passable, and the road from the People's Liberation Army had landslided again.

The goddess under the mountain said that the girl had lost her soul.

Children are not allowed to go to the home where someone has died, especially if they are close to each other.

Because they are reluctant, the deceased will take them away.

Lu Xu didn't believe it, but he was stunned for too long, and his aunt hurriedly asked him to take the girl home.

The last sentence of the boy's diary is to take care of his sister.

So Lu Xuyuan didn't resist anymore, and accompanied the girl in a daze, and before she knew it, her clothes were wet with tears.

The sound of the next door never stopped, and the wild cats that had not been seen for a long time under the heavy rain crossed over the roof.

"Out of trouble!"

The hoarse shouts of the old man could be heard from the empty house.

Night after night, with no guests, the ever-bright lanterns illuminated the gloomy mourning hall.

One after another, "out of trouble" came from the halls of various mountain villages, and the pain resounded throughout the sky.

The girl looked out the window, and the sporadic firelight dotted the whole mountain, and walked through every corner of the mountain with a cool wind.

During the day, the hall was full of people, no one stopped too much, everyone walked in a hurry, and their blistered feet stepped on muddy shoes, running through the open courtyards.

The shroud was cut freshly, and the old men of the village, the carpenter, the tailor, took out all the suitable coffins, fabrics.

The clothes were changed by Aunt Song, just like when he was born.

She remembered swaddling the little thing struggling in her arms.

Now it was her turn to change the boy into a shroud.

Thread the boy's already cold hand through the silk robe, cotton coat, and outer garment.

Counted the lines that tied the waist, one, two......

A reminder came from the helper: "Don't count wrong." ”

How can you count wrong? Aunt Song wiped her eyes that were already red and swollen, one year old or two years old......

I counted it twice, each time it was different, in front of me was the ghost of the line, it was the bits and pieces of the teenager, and the fourteen lines were always wrong.

Several people went in and out of the boy's room, carrying out a large pile of clothes.

"Put cotton, remove the metal buttons and plastic zippers!"

A trembling hand tied the thread around the boy's waist.

The old man stood at the door and described the witheredness.

Aunt Song tidied up the processed clothes.

This is a first-year gift for teenagers when they are on their first birthday, and they are coming to Buna one by one, along with a small bag of 100 family rice.

This red dress is a new dress for the New Year, and it was his father who rarely came home to buy a new dress to coax him, so he wore this dress to visit the New Year and have a snowball fight with his grandson in the snow.

This patch is the same New Year's dress as Xiaoxiao, and there are holes on it that Xiaoxiao burned when he set off fireworks, and he damaged his clothes before the New Year, and he was almost scolded.

……

This tattered piece was the last clothes that the teenager brought, and he didn't have a chance to change it.

Dawn was approaching, the clothes were neatly folded, and her trembling hands were steadily put into the coffin one by one, stuffed steadily and tightly.

That way, you don't have to worry about bumps.

I don't worry about him running out of clothes.

It's dawn.

There were too few people who could host, although everyone tried to stagger the time.

The sound of the clash of utensils and the chanting finally sounded from next door today.

The jingling sound is mixed with the hoarse voice telling the life of the young man and praying for the peace of the young man.

The boy has been familiar with the dialect for thirteen years, and sings his funeral song in a unique tone.

In the afternoon, Aunt Song entered the house, and the girl sat motionless on the edge of the bed with her red eyes open.

Picking up the hay rope in her hand, Aunt Song suppressed her crying, patted the girl's back, lifted her arm, and tightened the hemp rope that had been tied two days ago.

If you can still use it, you can continue to use it, and even the hemp rope is not enough for the past two days.

"Brother, brother."

A girl's faint voice came from the bed.

Aunt Song's nose was sour and she was about to shed tears, so she had to hold the girl tightly in her arms, wipe her tears, and cry in a weird voice: "Brother went to a far away place, Yaoyao, Yaoyao will know when she grows up." ”

The girl's godless eyes looked at Lu Xuyuan, who was standing in the doorway.

Lu Xuyuan could only turn his head to avoid her gaze.

Many people came from next door, kneeling down one by one in front of the spirit, according to the order of the teeth.

The girl couldn't go, so Aunt Song told Lu Xuyuan to take good care of the girl and not let her pass.

One or two wreaths were placed in front of the spirit, the flowers were green, but the materials were not solid, and they were made by people who knew how to make them with only a little material.

The yellow paper for the New Year's holiday, knife by knife, was sent to courtyards one by one.

In front of the brazier were faces that were almost numb from crying, the firelight reflected the pale face a little more bloody, and under the eyes were translucent eye bubbles.

I couldn't cry anymore, but my eyes were still wet.

The Taoist priest read the relationship between the kneeling man and the young man, praying for the stability of the young man's next life, wisps of green smoke pierced through the oppressive clouds, and yellow paper flew and filled with the grief of the living.

It was the last night.

There are people kneeling, crying, coming and going in front of the spirit.

"Why are you leaving! Okay, we'll go swimming together when we come back this time. ”

"You said you'd take me to play when you come back for the summer vacation."

"You promised to give me that little set of cards when you graduated."

"Your secret weapon is still in my house."

Children may not know what death is, but they already know parting.

Lu Xuyuan asked Aunt Song to take care of her for a while when she came over, and went to Lingqian.

Looking at the dark coffin, inside is someone who will never get up again.

"Lu Xuyuan, help me take care of the little oil bottle!"

"Lu Xuyuan, I'll put the fart worm in your house!"

"The road is long, do you want to swim? No heels! ”

"Lu Xuyuan, you be quiet, don't disturb my fish."

"Brother Yuan, for the last time, for the last time, help me take care of the oil bottle."

"You say it's the last time every time."

"Really for the last time, that hornet's nest they found was really big! Bring you roasted bee pupa! That's it! ”

"Lu Xuyuan, take care of the farts worm, please."

Lu Xuyuan knelt in front of the spirit, burned three pieces of yellow paper into the brazier, and heard his hoarse voice.

"Okay."

Kneeling in silence for a long time, lifting his leg that was already numb to pain, Lu Xuyuan walked back to his room step by step, looking at the girl with empty eyes on the bed.

He didn't know if the girl understood death.

Adults don't think they understand.

But she was probably miserable.