Since exchanging the weekend for the secret of Daddy's life experience, every Sunday, he has to hand over the originally wanton and happy time to the sixth master. Squatting, leg pressing, splitting, waist throwing, shoulder pressing and other tortures became my nightmare during that time.

The time of the week flies quickly, and the six days of school often fall into the weekend. Sunday, which should have passed quickly, is now like a year. If I were a tree, it would definitely grow very distinct annual rings, no, it should be "weekly rings".

I don't know how many circles of "Zhou Wheel" have grown, and midsummer is quietly coming.

One day, after a long morning, my brother and I followed the sixth master and sixth grandmother to have lunch in the courtyard. Suddenly, the sixth master put down the dishes and chopsticks, stood up and said to the door: "Second brother is here, come and sit down and eat." ”

I looked back and saw that it was my father.

"I've eaten it. I'll call Xiao Yuan, and I'll go up the mountain with me to build a shack in the afternoon. My grandfather said and took the dry tobacco box handed over by the sixth master, sat on the bench under the eaves and began to roll cigarettes.

"The beans are blooming, it is to look at the point, the head of the mountain people hate it very much, yesterday I went up the mountain and went around, your beans poured a large piece, and the ridges were full of horseshoe prints. ”

The mountain man mentioned by the sixth master is a Zhuangzi on the mountain in the south of our village, called Quanli Village.

At that time, the large and small warlords in the northwest region were in a scuffle, and bandits were rampant, whether they were warlords or bandits, they would rob which village they went to, and the common people called them thieves. At that time, the people of several nearby villages built a village on the mountain in order to run thieves[note 1], and when a thief came, the old and young women and children all hid in the village, and the men formed a village to resist outside the village. After the liberation, the village lost its original role, several families who originally took care of the village chose to continue to live on the mountain, forming a village, because there are two big springs on the side of Zhuangzi, so it was named Quanlizhuang, and the people under the mountain near generally did not call this name, directly called the mountain, and the people of Quanlizhuang were called the people on the mountain.

Half of the land of my village is in the river, half is in the mountains, and the farthest land on the mountains is at the feet of the people of Quanlizhuang.

At the beginning, the people who stayed in the village were all bold and fierce outlaws who dared to fight against thieves. Although after two or three generations of reproduction, the people of Quanlizhuang still have a sense of arrogance, always go their own way, and do not like self-restraint. Usually, cattle, horses, pigs and sheep are put in their hands, scurrying around, and often running to the fields of the Sichuan people to spoil the crops. There are even some people who have broken their hearts and lungs, and from time to time they will deliberately lead their livestock to the fields of the Sichuan people to eat crops. The people of Sichuan have a headache about this.

Located at the confluence of the Qinling Mountains and the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, the natural conditions are cold and humid, and the crops that can be grown are limited. The traditional crops are mainly wheat, barley, potatoes and broad beans.

Wheat and barley will fall when trampled by livestock, and after lodging, they will also tassel and set grains, even if some are eaten by livestock, it will have little impact on the harvest, but it is not easy to harvest when it falls to the ground.

Potatoes mainly grow underground, and the stems and leaves on the ground are trampled and eaten somewhat, and there is not much of a problem.

Broad beans are different, after entering the flowering period, if there are mules and horses rolling in them, the plant will basically not be harvested after it falls to the ground.

There is a more important reason, which is not spoken, and that is that the people in the mountains will steal green beans and cook them or take them to the city to sell.

Therefore, if anyone in the village grows broad beans in the field near Quanli Village, they must build a shack on the edge of the ground to guard it when it blooms until it is harvested.

The arrival of my grandfather is salvation for me.

"I'm going to help my dad load the car first. Before he finished smoking a roll of dry tobacco, I finished eating in two bites, put down the dishes and chopsticks, and escaped from the courtyard of the sixth master.

When I ran to the door, I saw that my father had already put on a mule cart and was loading the cart with materials for building a hut, such as small rafters, wheat straw, and tarpaulin.

"Why are you, your brother?" asked my dad when he saw me running over sweating profusely.

"My grandfather called me, not my brother. ”

"Look what your master has used to you. ”

I know what my dad meant. Everyone knows that my grandfather loves his little grandson. At the beginning, the sixth master found my father and asked our brothers to practice martial arts, my father agreed, I didn't want to practice, but my opinion was insignificant in my father's eyes, and it was my father who came forward to fulfill my wish.

Later, I went to find the sixth master to practice by myself. After knowing the reason, my father said, "You baby, you have gone to Siam, what do these things have to do with you?" If you want to know, why don't you ask me?" Knowing that I didn't want to practice martial arts, he looked for opportunities to help me skip class from time to time.

My father's love for me is hurting me in my father's eyes. But in addition to the parent-child relationship that was common in the countryside at that time, my grandfather's favor made me feel the warmth that I could directly touch. So many years later, when I wandered away from home, in the dead of night, I was haunted by the concern for my parents and siblings thousands of miles away, but more importantly, I missed my grandfather. Whether it was when he was alive or after he died, what appeared countless times in his dreams was that kind face. That's an afterword.

After my dad and I loaded the car, my dad came back. The three grandparents drove the mule cart up the hill to my family's bean field.

On a barren meadow next to the ground, we erected two herringbone brackets with rafters, and a beam was attached to the top of the two brackets to form a frame. On top of the frame, many wooden strips are tied horizontally and vertically. Then the rows of wheat straw are fixed layer by layer from the bottom to the top, and the outside is covered with a whole piece of oilcloth, and a row of large stones is pressed on each of the three sides of the oilcloth, leaving one side of the herringbone bracket empty as the entrance. Finally, the inside is covered with oilcloth, then covered with a layer of wheat straw, and covered with bamboo mats. A shack is set up to protect you from the rain and the cold. Yes, it is to keep out the cold, because in this plateau area, the temperature difference between day and night is very large, even if it is summer, the temperature at night can be as low as ten degrees.

After dinner that day, my father carried a kerosene lamp and a flashlight and prepared to go up the mountain to the shack.

At that time, children in the countryside had never heard of summer camps and did not know what camping was. But every child in the village has experienced the wonderful feeling of lying in a shack under the stars, in the green waves all over the ground. My brother and I were no exception.

Before my father went out, the two of us were already waiting outside the gate.

"Dayuan, you won't be going to school tomorrow? Come in and go to sleep. "Nothing escaped my father's control, but he only called my brother's name, not me, because he knew that under my father's exclusive favor, his authority would have been null and void to me.

From then on, I became half the owner of the shack, and followed my father up the mountain to sleep almost every day.

My brother was resentful of this, but he also had permission to stay in the shack once a week, and that was on Saturday nights. For me, having him in time is the happiest. Because when people are faced with anything, they will go through three stages, from the novelty at the beginning, to the ordinary, to the boring at the end.

When I lost the initial novelty of sleeping in the shack, and was embarrassed to say no to my grandfather, every Saturday night became the time I looked forward to the most.

One evening, after I had slept in the shack for two weeks, my father and I came to the shack with kerosene and a flashlight.

My grandfather was tidying up the bedding inside, and I stood on the ridge and counted the lights. Looking around, the faint lights on the nearby hillside are dotted and flickering, flickering and dimming, and a little light is a shack.

Suddenly, I saw a little more light in the distance from our shack.

"Master, whose land is over there?"

"The Buddha is on behalf of the family. My grandfather stretched out of the shack and glanced at the place I was pointing.

My heart fluttered.

Since I saw my father on the mountain beam that day, I haven't seen him in the village for more than two months.

In this quiet and peaceful village, people are busy with their own futures, and they may not care about the survival of a widower, but in the eyes of a young man full of doubts, this is a great case.

Today, he reappeared, at least his shack. How can it not be exciting.

I took three steps and two steps towards his shack, not hearing my grandfather's shouting behind me.

When I approached the shack and looked cautiously inside, I saw a kerosene lamp hanging from the beam of the shack, which was turned short to give off a faint yellow light in order to save fuel.

The shack was empty.

Note 1: The thieves are the resistance and evasion actions organized by the common people to escape the warlords and bandits robbing the village.

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