Chapter 8 eight

The falling sorghum grains bounced on grandma's face, and one grain jumped between her slightly parted lips and rested on her white teeth.The father looked at grandma's blush fading lips, choked up a sob, and tears fell on his chest.In the rain of pearls woven from sorghum, grandma opened her eyes, and pearly iridescence shot out from her eyes.She said: Where is your father, my child? The father said: He is fighting, my father.He is your own parents and grandma said.Father nodded. Grandma struggled to sit up, and when her body moved, the two streams of blood rushed out violently. Mother, I will call him.said father.

Grandma shook her hand, sat up suddenly, and said: Douguan, my son, help mother, let's go home, come home Father knelt down, let grandma's arms wrap around his neck, then stood up vigorously, and brought grandma up as well.The blood on Grandma's chest soon wet Father's head and neck, and Father still smelled a strong smell of sorghum wine from Grandma's blood.Grandma's heavy body was leaning on her father, his legs were trembling, and he staggered as he walked deep into the sorghum. The bullets killed the sorghum on their heads.Father distributed the dense sorghum stalks, moving step by step, sweat and tears mixed with grandma's blood, mutilating father's face.Father felt that grandma's body was getting heavier and heavier. The sorghum stalks tripped him mercilessly, and the sorghum leaves saw him mercilessly. He fell to the ground with the heavy grandma on his body.The father got out from under the grandma and straightened the grandma up. The grandma raised her face, exhaled a long breath, and smiled at her father. This smile was mysterious and unpredictable, and this smile was like a soldering iron. In my father's memory, a horseshoe was scalded. shaped imprint.

As Grandma lay, the burning sensation on her chest gradually subsided.She suddenly felt that her son had unbuttoned her clothes, and he covered a bullet hole in her breast with his hand, and covered a bullet hole in her breast with his hand.Grandma's blood stained father's hands red and then green again; grandma's white chest was stained green and red again by her own blood.The bullet went through Grandma's noble breast, exposing the reddish cellulite.Father looked at grandma's breasts in great pain.My father couldn't hold back the bleeding from grandma's wound. Seeing the blood drain, grandma's face became paler and her body became lighter and lighter, as if she would fly away at any moment.

Grandma happily watched the delicate face of my father and the vivid pictures of life in the past years that she and Commander Yu jointly created under the shadow of the sorghum, passing her eyes like a galloping horse. Grandma recalled that year, in the downpour, she rode a palanquin like a boat into the village where Shan Tingxiu’s family lived.When the bridal sedan chair was carried to the gate of the Shan family, only a dry old man with bean braids came out to greet the bride.After the heavy rain stopped, some sporadic rain hit the watery places on the ground.Although the drummer was playing the tune, no one came to see the excitement. Grandma knew that something was wrong, and there were two men who helped my grandma worship the world, one in his fifties and the other in his forties.The one in his fifties is Uncle Liu Luohan, and the one in his forties is a guy on the distillery pot.

The bearers and drummers stood in the water like soaked rats, watching with serious expressions the two withered men carried my rosy grandma into the dark hall.Grandma smelled the strong smell of soju on the two men, as if they had been soaked in the wine. Grandma still put on the stinky hijab when she visited the church.In the smell of burning candles, grandma caught a soft silk cloth and was led away by a person.The journey was dark and stifling, full of terror.Grandma was sent to sit on the kang.No one came to remove the red veil, but grandma did it herself.She saw a man with convulsive face curled up on the stool under the Kang.The man had a long, flat head, and his lower eyelids were rotten and red.He stood up and stretched out a chicken-claw-shaped hand to his grandma. The grandma yelled, took a pair of scissors from her bosom, stood on the kang, and glared at the man.The man shrank and sat down on the stool again.That night, grandma never put down the scissors in her hand, and the man with the flat head never left the square stool.

Early the next morning.While the man was asleep, grandma slipped down the kang, ran out of the room, opened the door, and was about to run away when she was grabbed.The skinny old man with the bean braids grabbed her by the wrist and looked at her viciously. Shan Tingxiu coughed dryly twice, put away his evil face and changed into a smile, and said: Son, you marry me, just like my own daughter, Bianlang is not that sick, don't listen to other people's nonsense.Our family has a big business, Bianlang is honest, you come, this family is up to you.Shan Tingxiu handed a bunch of brass keys to grandma, but grandma didn't answer.

On the second night, grandma sat with scissors in hand until dawn. On the morning of the third day, my great-grandfather brought a little donkey to pick up my grandma. It is a custom in Northeast Gaomi Township to pick up a daughter after three days of newlyweds.Great-grandfather and Shan Tingxiu drank until after noon before setting off home. Grandma sat sideways on the donkey with a thin quilt draped over its back, and swayed out of the village.Three days after the heavy rain, the road surface was still wet, and white steam rose from the sorghum fields, and the green sorghum was surrounded by white air, giving it a sense of immortality.The great-grandfather clinked money in his briefcase, and he was staggering from drinking, his eyes were blurred.The little donkey frowned and walked slowly, with tiny hoofprints clearly printed on the wet road.Grandma sat on the donkey, dizzy for a while, her eyelids were red and swollen, her hair was messy, and a section of sorghum had grown in three days, staring at my grandma mockingly.

Grandma said: Dad, I will not go back to his house, and I will not go to his house when I die Great-grandfather said: My daughter, you are so blessed!Your father-in-law wants to give me a big black mule, I'll sell the donkey The donkey stretched out its square head and gnawed at the green grass covered with tiny mud spots on the side of the road. Grandma cried and said: Dad, he is a leprosy Great-grandfather said: Your father-in-law wants to give our family a mule The great-grandfather was so drunk that he kept vomiting mouthfuls of wine and meat into the grass by the roadside.The filthy dirt made grandma turn her stomach.Grandma was full of hatred for him.

When the donkey walked to Toad Hollow, there was a strong stench that made the donkey droop its ears.Grandma saw the body of the robber.His belly was swollen high, and a layer of emerald green flies covered his fleshy skin.The donkey ran past the carrion with the grandma on its back, and the flies flew up angrily like a green cloud.Great-grandfather followed the donkey, whose body seemed to be wider than the road. He suddenly rubbed the sorghum on the left, and trampled down the weeds on the right.In front of the fallen corpse, the great-grandfather said repeatedly, with trembling lips, "You poor ghost, are you lying here and asleep?" The graceful and luxurious expressions of the passers-by are in stark contrast to the vicious and timid expressions of the passers-by.After walking mile after mile, the daylight was slanting, the blue sky was like a stream, and the great-grandfather was left behind by the donkey. The donkey knew the way, and carried grandma on its back, wandering forward.The road turned a small bend, and the donkey walked up to the bend. Grandma leaned back, got off the donkey's back, held her in a strong arm, and walked deep into the sorghum.

Grandma was unable to struggle, and she was unwilling to struggle. Three days of new life was like a big dream broken. Someone became a great leader in one minute, and grandma understood the Zen of life in three days.She even put an arm around the man's neck to make it easier for him to hold him.The sorghum leaves crackled.The hoarse voice of great-grandfather was heard on the road: Girl, where have you been? Near the stone bridge came the long, shrill sound of loudspeakers and the indistinguishable sound of machine gun fire.Grandma's blood was still flowing out in line with her breathing.The father yelled: Mother, don't let your blood flow out, you will die after bleeding.Father grabbed black soil from under the sorghum root and stuffed it on grandma's wound. The blood oozes out quickly, and my father grabbed another handful.Grandma smiled gratifiedly, looking at the blue, unfathomable sky, and the forgiving, warm, and motherly sorghum.In grandma's mind, a green path full of small white flowers appeared.On this small road, grandma rode a little donkey and walked leisurely. In the depths of the sorghum, that tall and tough man sang loudly, his voice higher than the sorghum.Grandma followed the sound, stepping on the tops of sorghum, like a green cloud

The man put grandma on the ground. Grandma was as soft as noodles, with lamb-like eyes squinting.The man tore off the black mask and revealed his real image.It's him!Grandma called out to the sky secretly, a strong tremor resembling happiness made grandma's eyes fill with tears. Yu Zhan'ao took off his big straw rain cape, trampled down dozens of sorghum stalks, and spread the straw rain cape over the sorghum corpses.He hugged my grandma onto the coir raincoat.Grandma was fascinated, looking at his naked chest, as if she saw the strong blood flowing under his dark skin.At the top of the sorghum, thin air curled up, and the sound of sorghum growing sounded from all directions.The wind is calm, the waves are calm, and streaks of blazing, moist sunlight crisscross the cracks in the sorghum.Grandma's heart hit a deer, and the lust that had been hidden for sixteen years suddenly burst.Grandma wriggled on the coir raincoat.Yu Zhan'ao was short, his knees slammed down, and he knelt beside grandma, who was trembling all over, and a yellow, fragrant flame crackled and burned on her face.Yu Zhan'ao roughly tore open my grandma's corset.Let the beam of light pouring down shine on grandma's cold and tense breasts densely covered with small white bumps.Under his vigorous movements, the sharp pain and happiness whetted grandma's nerves, and grandma let out a deep and hoarse cry: Oh my god, she passed out. Grandma and grandpa love each other in the vibrant sorghum field, and the two unruly hearts that despise the laws of the world are more tightly attached to each other than their happy bodies.They plowed the clouds and sowed the rain in the sorghum fields, adding a bright red to the rich and colorful history of Northeast Gaomi Township.My father can be said to be born with the essence of heaven and earth, the crystallization of pain and carnival.The donkey brayed so loudly that it burrowed into the sorghum field, and grandma returned from the lost heaven to the cruel world.She sat up, bewildered, tears streaming down her cheeks.She said: He is really leprosy.Grandpa knelt down, pulled out a small sword more than two feet long from nowhere, and pulled out the sheath with a whoosh. The blade was round, like a leek leaf.With a wave of my grandfather's hand, the sword had slipped through the sorghum stalks, and the two sorghum trees fell to the ground, with dark green sap oozing from the neatly inclined stubble.Grandpa said: After three days, you just come back!Grandma looked at him in bewilderment.Grandpa gets dressed.Grandma has a good face.Grandma didn't know where Grandpa hid the little sword again.Grandpa sent grandma to the side of the road, and disappeared without a trace. Three days later, the little donkey brought grandma back again.As soon as I entered the village, I heard that the father and son of the Shan family had been killed.The dead bodies lay in the bay at the west end of the village. Grandma lay down, bathed in the beautiful warmth of the sorghum field, and she felt that she was as light as a swallow, gliding gracefully against the sorghum tassels.The movement of those revolving images slowed down, and the hostile, grateful, cruel and honest faces of Shan Bianlang, Shan Tingxiu, great-grandfather, great-grandmother, and Uncle Luohan all appeared and disappeared.Grandma's 30-year history is being written by herself. Everything in the past is like fragrant fruits.It fell to the ground like an arrow, and grandma could only vaguely see some fleeting halos of everything in the future.There was only a short sticky and slippery moment, and grandma was still holding onto it desperately.Grandma felt that my father's two little hands like animal claws were stroking her, and my father's timid call to mother made grandma's consciousness of hatred and love extinguished, and hatred and hatred extinguished, and a few sparks of nostalgia for life splashed out.Grandma tried her best to lift her arm and caress my father's face, but she couldn't lift her arm.Grandma was running upwards, and she saw a beam of colorful light shot down from the heaven, and she heard the solemn music from the heaven, played by suona, big trumpet, and small trumpet. Grandma felt very tired, the slippery handle of the present, the handle of the world, was about to slip out of her hands.Is this death?Am I dying?Never see this sky, this land, this sorghum, this son, this lover who is leading the army to fight again?The gunfire sounded so far away that everything was separated by a thick layer of smoke.Bean officer!Bean officer!My son, you come to help mother, you hold mother, mother does not want to die, my God!God gave me a lover every day, God gave me a son, God gave me wealth, and God gave me thirty years of red sorghum-like fulfilling life.God, since you gave it to me, don't take it back, forgive me, let me go!God, do you think I'm guilty?Do you think I'm right or wrong that I slept with a leper and gave birth to a brood of mangy, rotting devils that made this beautiful world filthy?God, what is chastity?What is righteousness?What is kindness?What is evil?You have never told me, I can only do it according to my own ideas, I love happiness, I love power, I love beauty, my body is mine, I make decisions for myself, I am not afraid of crime, I am not afraid of punishment, I am not afraid Into your eighteen levels of hell.I have done everything I have to do, I have done everything I have to do, and I am not afraid of anything.But I don't want to die, I want to live, I want to see the world more, oh my god Grandma’s sincerity moved the heavens, and fresh body fluid grew in her dry eyes, and the strange light from heaven shone in her eyes, and grandma saw her father’s golden face and those two eyes that resembled grandpa’s again. .Grandma's lips moved slightly and she called Douguan, and my father shouted excitedly: Mom, you're all right!You don't want to die.I've blocked your blood, it doesn't flow anymore!I'll call my father and tell him to come and see you, mother, you can't die, you wait for my father! Father ran away.The sound of my father's footsteps turned into soft whispers, into music from heaven that I had just heard.Grandma heard the voice of the universe, and that voice came from a plant of red sorghum.Grandma stared at the red sorghum. In her hazy eyes, the sorghum was strange and magnificent, with strange shapes. They moaned, twisted, howled, and entwined, sometimes like devils, sometimes like relatives.In grandma's eyes, they coiled into a snake-like ball, and stretched out suddenly, grandma couldn't describe their brilliance.They are red and green, white and black, blue and green, they laugh, they cry, and the tears they cry hit the desolate beach in grandma's heart like raindrops.In the gaps between the sorghum, there are patches of blue sky, the sky is so high and so low.Grandma felt that the sky and the earth, people, and sorghum were intertwined, and everything was covered in a huge hood.The white clouds in the sky wiped the sorghum and also wiped grandma's face.The hard edges of the white cloud made grandma's face scratch.The shadow of the white cloud and the white cloud followed each other, turning idly.A group of snow-white wild pigeons swooped down from the sky and landed on the top of the sorghum.The cooing of the pigeons woke up the grandma, and the grandma saw the appearance of the pigeons very clearly.The pigeon also looked at grandma with its small red eyes the size of sorghum grains.Grandma smiled sincerely at the pigeons, and the pigeons repaid her nostalgia and love for life when she was dying with a broad smile.Grandma shouted: My loved ones, I can't bear to leave you!The pigeons pecked off strings of sorghum grains, answering grandma's silent call.As the pigeons pecked and swallowed sorghum, their chests gradually swelled, their feathers curled up in nervous pecking, and the fan-shaped tail feathers were like inflorescences fluttering in the wind and rain.Under the eaves of my house, there used to be a large flock of pigeons.In autumn, grandma placed a large wooden basin full of clean water in the yard. The pigeons flew back from the field, squatted neatly on the edge of the basin, faced their own reflection in the clear water, and spit out the sorghum in the yard. Come.The pigeons swaggered in the yard.Pigeon!On the head of the peaceful and heavy sorghum stood a group of pigeons driven out of their homes by the storm of war. They stared at grandma, as if mourning grandma. Grandma's eyes dimmed again, and the pigeons fluttered up together to the beat of a very familiar song, soaring in the sea-like blue sky, and the pigeon wings connected with the air, making a whistling sound.Grandma floated up, followed the pigeon, paddled the newborn wings, and spun lightly.The black soil is underneath.Sorghum is under the body.Grandma looks nostalgicly at the dilapidated villages, crooked rivers, and criss-crossing roads; she looks at the chaotic space pierced by scorching bullets and all living beings hesitating at the crossroads between death and life.Grandma sniffed the smell of sorghum wine and the sweet smell of blood for the last time. Suddenly, a scene she had never seen before flashed through her mind: under the impact of tens of thousands of bullets, hundreds of ragged Folks, dancing and lying in the sorghum field The last trace of connection with the world is about to be broken, and all worries, pains, tensions, and frustrations fall into the sorghum field, hit the tops of the sorghum like hailstones, take root and bloom on the black soil, and bear sour fruits. Passed down from generation to generation.Grandma completed her own liberation, and she flew with the pigeons. Her thinking space shrank to the size of a fist, filled with overflowing happiness, tranquility, warmth, comfort, and harmony.Grandma was satisfied, she said devoutly: God!Oh My God