Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 183 The Bold Droma

After spending three days at the temple, Liu Yimin and Xu Chi returned to Ma'erkang. Their time at the temple had broadened their horizons, giving them a full understanding of what theocracy and cruelty truly meant.

On the way back, everyone was in a bad mood. Especially the driver, Lao Wang, whose eyes were bloodshot and filled with endless hatred.

They saw many things inside, including some magical artifacts. They had heard about them before, but Liu Yimin was still shocked when he saw them with his own eyes.

An indescribable emotion was stuck in my throat.

During their time in Aba, from Sanjiang Township and the Tusi official residence to the homes of grassland herders, Liu Yimin and Xu Chi felt they had gained a sufficient understanding of this cannibalistic old society. However, after learning more, they realized that they only knew the surface of it.

Xu Chi began to analyze the society here in the past.

“Yes, the serf-owning class was composed of local government officials such as chieftains, temples, and nobles. The vast majority of serfs were manipulated by these three parties, and their lives could not be guaranteed, nor did they have the right to die with dignity,” Liu Yimin said.

However, Aba is not a true theocracy; the chieftains here have more administrative power than religious power.

Driver Lao Wang said in a deep voice, "Writer Liu, Writer Xu, although I don't understand what you two are saying, I know that you are speaking up for us. Those noble gentlemen whip us hard, and we still have to bow and be respectful."

The first time I met a People's Liberation Army soldier, I encountered an old squad leader. He patted me on the shoulder and said, "From now on, I'm free." That was the first time I heard the word 'freedom.' When I learned what 'freedom' meant, I excitedly ran to the hillside and shouted, "I'm finally free!"

“The squad leader also came from a poor background, but after we talked, our situation made his eyes widen. He couldn’t believe that our situation was so miserable. He gripped the gun in his hand tightly and hugged me and cried.”

“If it weren’t for you, I would never have entered a monastery again in my life. They can no longer make me bow my head, because I am a Golden Pearl Maiden!”

Old Wang practically roared through clenched teeth as he finished speaking, tears streaming down his face. He then broke down in tears, burying his face in his hands and sobbing, "Why, why are our people being used as magical artifacts? Why, why? Why is this happening? We are human beings, not livestock on the grasslands!"

No, we are not even as good as livestock.

Liu Yimin and Xu Chi looked at Old Wang, unsure how to comfort him.

Back in Ma'erkang, Old Wang looked at the Zhuokeji official residence, but refused to go inside no matter what. He said fiercely, "I'd rather freeze to death on the street than go back into this place!"

Left with no other option, the local comrades took them to Ma'erkang County and arranged for them to stay at a local guesthouse. The guesthouse was a two-story building with a typical Tibetan style, and its conditions were quite different from those of the official residence.

After resting for two days, they will leave Ma'erkang and continue until they leave Aba.

The following day, Liu Yimin and Xu Chi rode their horses into Ma'erkang, marking the first time they had seriously observed the city.

This is a county town nestled among mountains. The buildings in the town are concentrated, and there are some tall buildings, but the tallest is no more than five stories.

While strolling around, they arrived at the hospital again, bringing some local fruit to visit Sozerang. Sozerang's health was improving; although his face still lacked rosy color, the paleness had faded considerably.

Upon seeing Liu Yimin and Xu Chi enter, Suozhelang hurriedly greeted them: "Writer Liu, Writer Xu, Tashi Delek!"

"Comrade Sozerang, Tashi Delek!"

After inquiring about their health, Suozhelang asked if their trip to the temple had been successful. Seeing Liu Yimin and Xu Chi nod, Suozhelang immediately leaned back against the headboard with a sigh of relief: "As long as I didn't delay your plans, that's good!"

Liu Yimin and Xu Chi offered him a few words of comfort and informed him of their impending departure. Suo Zelang held Liu Yimin's hand and said, "I will definitely see you off on the day you leave!"

"Comrade Sozerang, please take good care of yourself and remember to write to us when you're healed. We've caused you trouble this time."

The sound of footsteps going upstairs caught the attention of the three. Sozerang laughed and said, "It must be Zhuoma. That crazy girl runs like a boy!"

“Uncle Sozerang, you’re talking badly about me again in front of the writer from the capital. Let me tell you, this writer from the capital is very petty!” Zhuoma pointed at Liu Yimin with her riding whip.

Sozerang said sternly, "Zhuoma, don't talk nonsense and neglect our guests."

Zhuoma didn't take it to heart and said with a smile, "Writer from the capital, our village is going to hold the Wangguo Festival, would you like to come?"

Sozerang said, "Writer Liu, Writer Xu, if your schedule allows, you can go and take a look! Not all places in Aba hold the Wangguo Festival. Zhuoma's village will hold it in two days."

Xu Chi glanced at Liu Yimin and said first, "Go, you must go. Your Wangguo Festival is in Yimin's new work. Since we're already here, there's no rush to leave. Of course we should participate. What do you say, Yimin?"

Liu Yimin looked at Xu Chi: "Since you've said so, of course there's no rush to leave!"

"Then on the day of the Wangguo Festival, I'll come to the guesthouse to find you, and we'll go together to participate in our Wangguo Festival. The masters of the grasslands will also participate in horse racing on that day. Writers from the capital, do you dare to join us?"

Zhuoma tucked the riding whip into her waistband and looked at Liu Yimin with a strong sense of challenge.

Liu Yimin: "I wouldn't dare!"

Even Xu Chi was surprised that Liu Yimin blurted out "I dare not" so quickly.

Zhuoma was stunned; all the thoughts that were running through her mind were swallowed back down. This writer from the capital is utterly cowardly!
Sozerang said sternly, "Writer Liu has only been riding horses for a few days, how could he be the same as you? If you want to find someone, go find someone else to race horses!"

Zhuoma snorted and obediently leaned against the wall, no longer speaking.

On the day of the Wangguo Festival, Zhuoma knocked on the guesthouse door early in the morning, and Liu Yimin put on some relatively clean clothes. There was no other way but to be at least a little cleaner.

Even he and Xu Chi could only take a bath once in a while. The guesthouse and the Zhuokeji official residence had no bathing facilities at all.

"Writers from the capital, are you ready?" Zhuoma waved her riding whip, making a provocative gesture.

It's true that not all places in Aba celebrate the Wangguo Festival. While Zhuoma's village was celebrating, the rest of the area remained as usual. Ma'erkang County, nestled at the foot of mountains, is one of the narrowest and longest counties in my country, only 300 meters wide from north to south. They traversed the entire county and finally arrived at Zhuoma's village.

Today, Zhuoma is dressed in her finest attire, a red Tibetan robe and white brocade fabric, resembling a passionate yet understated snow-capped mountain.

Xu Chi recited a few lines of poetry, which made Zhuoma laugh happily. She patted her whip and quickened the horse's pace. The laughter of the four of them was quite noticeable throughout the street.

Arriving at Zhuoma's village, he met her parents, two very friendly Tibetan elders. Old Wang hadn't participated in Tibetan festivals since joining the army, so he was especially happy this time.

The village head offered them barley wine. Liu Yimin dipped his ring finger in the wine, flicked it three times into the air, and then took three sips. He had long since learned these courtesies through their time together.

The so-called Wangguo Festival, Wang means crops and Guo means to circle. People lead the way with flagpoles, followed by others carrying barley or colorful flags, circling around the fields that are about to be harvested.

Some people were banging drums and gongs, and holding up banners. Liu Yimin also saw Tibetans carrying portraits of their teachers. Everyone was praying together for a bountiful harvest and favorable weather.

Even the usually mischievous Zhuoma became respectful.

After the ceremony, various entertainment activities began, including Tibetan opera performances and horse racing. Unfortunately, their Wangguo Festival was too small in scale, and the horse racing and archery events were also not very large.

Zhuoma mounted her horse, a bow and quiver slung over her shoulder, and looked at Liu Yimin: "Hey, writer from the capital, watch closely!"

One of the men grinned at Liu Yimin, then looked at Zhuoma: "The writer from the capital is so thin he looks like a kite in the sky if the wind blows. It's a pity I don't know who's holding the kite string."

Zhuoma said angrily, "Yangzong, this is my guest. If you dare to be disrespectful again, I will throw you into the river to be used as a human skin raft."

The rest of the horse race participants immediately became excited, with all sorts of cheers and whistles. Yangzong glanced at Liu Yimin and grinned, then looked away from him.

As the horse race began, Zhuoma's horse shot off like an arrow, her red dress fluttering as she drew her bow and nocked the arrow in one fluid motion, hitting the bullseye perfectly.

The crowd immediately burst into enthusiastic applause. When they returned, they nocked their bows and shot into the sky, and a bird that happened to be passing by fell to the ground.

Xu Chi exclaimed, "What a heroine! In the past, she would definitely have been the Mulan of Tibet!"

Old Wang was itching to try his hand at it. When Zhuoma returned, he took the bow and ran to the field to show off his skills. Unfortunately, it had been too long and his technique had become rusty, so the arrow missed the target.

Seeing his dejected look, Liu Yimin smiled and said, "Old Wang, it's normal after a while. If you practice regularly, you'll definitely be number one!"

Droma, displeased, remarked from the side, "Really? A writer from the capital!"

After the horse race, we sat on the grass and enjoyed the local delicacies: glutinous rice cakes, hand-pulled mutton, dried yak, and some Qiang ethnic dishes. Living together as two ethnic groups, their customs inevitably influenced each other.

Finally, it was time to leave. Liu Yimin and Xu Chi stood by the window in the morning, greedily breathing in the fresh air of Aba. Everything in Aba flashed through their minds like a slideshow.

On the day he left, Sozerang was pushed to the guesthouse by his family. In addition to him, another guide and other local government officials came to see him off.

Droma remained riding her horse, calling out in her unique voice, "Hey, writer from the capital, when you get to the capital, I wonder how you'll write about Droma!"

Xu Chi laughed and said, "She'll definitely portray you as the most beautiful Tibetan girl!"

After Xu Chi finished speaking, Liu Yimin saw Zhuoma blush for the first time. With a hint of reluctance on her face, she tossed a package to Liu Yimin: "Writer from the capital, this is dried yak meat that Zhuoma gave you!"

"Thank you, Droma from the grassland!" Liu Yimin said with a smile.

As the jeep started, Liu Yimin and Xu Chi got in. The three of them were alone on the way back. The jeep drove out of Ma'erkang County, with Zhuoma's horse following closely behind.

They didn't disappear until they crossed the mountain pass.

On the way back, Xu Chi and Liu Yimin closed their eyes to rest, not having much of a conversation.

After a while, Xu Chi said, "The beginning of a field trip is joyful, the process is arduous, and parting is heartbreaking. A true writer, when going on a field trip, must delve into this land, and inevitably develop feelings for this land, so parting is always painful. When I interview subjects for reportage, we sometimes spend three or four months together."

When I returned to write, I was very careful with every stroke of the pen. I wondered if my writing would hurt my friends. But reportage demands objectivity; I couldn't let too much personal emotion get in.

Liu Yimin laughed and said, "You're really experienced in this area. Let me tell you something else. I have a new idea for the play. The ending will connect the harvest with the burial of the fallen soldiers. When the more than two thousand braids are being transported back to Sanjiang Township for burial, a group of Tibetan people will be holding banners, beating drums and gongs, and turning prayer wheels in the soon-to-be-harvested barley field."

"You're linking death and hope together, using a hymn to harvest as a lament for heroes, a tale of extreme joy and sorrow that brings tears to the eyes. It also implies that these fallen heroes irrigated the bountiful land with their blood."

Xu Chi, sitting in the front, slapped his thigh: "Great! Great! Expressing realistic themes through symbolism and metaphor, that's fantastic. I believe it will definitely move the audience."

Xu Chi became more and more excited as they talked, constantly refining the details with Liu Yimin.

The car encountered no further problems on the road, and by the time they reached Sanjiang Township, it was already getting dark, so they rested there for the night. The three returned the Tibetan robes to the township government officials and expressed their gratitude.

The other party disagreed and insisted on giving the Tibetan robe to Liu Yimin and his group. So he and Xu Chi secretly left an envelope containing a few ten-yuan bills.

The next day, around noon, the car arrived in Dujiangyan. Liu Yimin jumped off the car, stretched, and rubbed his numb buttocks.

A familiar voice rang in their ears: "Hey, writer from the capital, want me to give you a massage?"

Aji immediately lowered his head and bit Liu Yimin's buttocks, which caught Liu Yimin and Xu Chi off guard. How did Zhuoma follow them?

(End of this chapter)