Reborn in 1982, the prodigal son returns

On the 24th day of the twelfth lunar month, we sweep the house.

As dawn broke, the eastern horizon looked as if it had been erased with an eraser, a hazy gray that made it impossible to distinguish between clouds and mountains. The branches of the old locust tree outside the courtyard wall were covered with snow, and occasionally a clump would slide off a branch and hit the ground with a dull thud.

Lin Nuo was awakened by the noise in the yard.

Early in the morning, Zhao Xiuying was busy in the kitchen. The sound of the spatula hitting the iron pot came from behind the wall, carrying the unique rhythm of a rural morning, as if she was negotiating with the day.

He rolled over and got up. His cotton-padded coat was ice-cold; he had draped it over the quilt all night, absorbing the chill. He shivered as he put it on.

Pushing open the door, I found the courtyard already bustling with activity.

Lin Weiguo stood on the ladder, a dusty towel wrapped around his head, the two corners tied in a knot at the back of his head, looking like an old farmer from northern Shaanxi.

He was sweeping the roof beams with a broom, his movements were not very skillful, the ladder was unstable, he held onto the wall with one hand and held the broom with the other to reach it, his body leaning to the left, it looked precarious.

The roof was made of reeds, covered with a year's worth of accumulated dust and cobwebs, forming dark, clump-like patches. A sweep of the broom sent the dust falling in gushes, clearly visible in the morning light, like a dusty snowfall.

"The left side! That area on the left isn't clean!"

Zhao Xiuying stood at the bottom of the ladder, looking up and giving instructions, her hands on her hips.

"If you can do it, then you do it."

Lin Weiguo said irritably, and then slammed the broom down on the roof beam, causing even more dust to fall.

"You've got a lot to say in response to every single thing I say. You're really something else."

"Alright, alright, what's all the fuss about during the New Year?"

The old couple's bickering carried far in the cold air, even reaching the neighboring courtyard. Lin Nuo stood at the door of the east room, listening to the sounds, and the corner of her mouth twitched involuntarily.

He had heard that sound for over twenty years, and only after it disappeared did he realize that even noise and commotion could be a form of happiness.

He rubbed his hands together, intending to go to the kitchen to find something to eat, when he turned his head and saw that the door to the west room was open.

Su Wanqing came out carrying a basin of water.

She wore a faded blue cotton-padded jacket, the collar neatly buttoned with old-fashioned frog buttons that wrapped around her neck repeatedly—it took time, but it looked nice. Her hair was tied in a braid down her back, the end secured with a red ribbon.

The water in the basin was steaming, and it condensed into a cloud of white mist in the cold air.

She walked to the window, put the basin on the ground, and bent down to wring out the rag.

Her fingers were immersed in water, and the tips quickly turned red, so red they looked like they were about to bleed. But she didn't pull her hands away; she wrung out the rag and began wiping the windowpanes.

The windows had wooden frames with square grids, which she wiped one by one. She wiped them very carefully, making sure to clean every corner, and wrung out the cloth thoroughly so that no water stains were left after wiping.

When she encountered the black stains that had accumulated over the years on the wood, she would rub them vigorously with a rag against her fingers until her knuckles turned white.

Lin Nuo stood at the door of the east room, watching.

Zhao Xiuying saw it too.

She deliberately raised her voice, making it twice as loud as when she was arguing with Lin Weiguo earlier:

"Look at Wanqing, how carefully she cleans! Unlike some people, who can't work and can't make money, all they do is run around all day! Running around, what have they accomplished?"

These words were meant for Lin Nuo's ears.

Su Wanqing paused for a moment.

The rag remained motionless on the windowsill. She didn't lift her head, but the tips of her ears turned red.

Lin Nuo walked over.

The snow crunched under his feet, each step leaving a clear footprint. He walked to the window and stood beside her, less than an arm's length apart.

"Let me wipe it."

他 说:

"You can't reach the top."

Su Wanqing didn't look up. Her gaze was fixed on the lower half of the window frame, as if she were looking at something. After a few seconds of silence, she handed over the rag.

The two people's fingers touched.

Her fingers were icy cold, as if they had just been pulled from cold water; the chill from her fingertips traveled down her skin, carrying a slight dampness. His hands were warm; he had just woken up, the warmth of the blankets hadn't completely dissipated, and his palms were still a little sweaty.

Su Wanqing recoiled as if she had been burned, quickly withdrawing her hand.

The movement was swift, almost instinctive, like touching the sheet metal on a stove. But after pulling back, she didn't leave immediately; she stood there, stunned for a moment.

"I'll go help in the kitchen."

She said her voice was very soft, at least half as soft as usual. She turned and walked away, her steps much faster than usual, making a rapid crunching sound on the snow.

Lin Nuo stood in front of the window, clutching a damp rag in his hand, watching her figure disappear into the kitchen doorway.

He squeezed the rag tighter.

Then, standing on tiptoe, I began wiping the top row of window frames.

Unexpectedly, just as the window was half-cleaned, the courtyard gate was pushed open.

The wooden gate creaked open, drawing a semi-circular arc on the snow.

"Nuozi! Nuozi, are you there?"

Liu Jianguo jogged in, wrapped in a military overcoat. The overcoat was old; the fur on the collar was worn down, revealing the fabric underneath.

His ears were red from the cold, like two slices of liver hanging from his ears. The tip of his nose was also red, shiny, as if coated with wax. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his neck was hunched, his shoulders were shrunk high, and he looked like a quail that had been frozen stiff.

He saw Lin Nuo standing by the window, his eyes lit up, and he became energetic. He rushed over in three steps, his shoes slipped on the snow, and he almost fell. He swung his arms a couple of times to steady himself.

"Nuozi! Come on, let's go to my house!"

He grabbed Lin Nuo's arm; his fingers were icy cold, and you could feel the chill even through his cotton-padded coat.

"Old Sun and Erdan are here, we're one short! We've been waiting for you! The kang (heated brick bed) is heated, and the peanuts are fried, we're just waiting for you!"

In his previous life, Lin Nuo would have been so shocked by the words "playing cards" that he would have put his shoes on backwards.

There was cigarettes and tea on the card table, and peanuts were plentiful. If you won money, you could go to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy a pack of good cigarettes, the kind with filters. You could walk down the village road with one in your mouth, and you'd have more airs than the village chief.

Did he sweep his house on the 24th of the twelfth lunar month in his past life? Absolutely not. Nine times out of ten, he spent his time at the mahjong table, playing from morning till night, from dusk till dawn.

But now.

"I'm not going."

"I'm not going."

Liu Jianguo was stunned for a moment.

He blinked, thinking he had misheard, and opened his mouth slightly, revealing a set of teeth stained yellow by smoke.

"What did you say?"

"I'm not going."

Lin Nuo washed the rag in the basin of water, wrung it out, and continued wiping the windows.

"I'm busy."

Liu Jianguo stared at him for several seconds.

Are you alright?

He reached out to touch Lin Nuo's forehead. His finger, halfway in, withdrew, as if afraid of catching some disease.

"Are you running a fever? Are you delirious? Or did you catch a chill last night? Let me tell you, a fever is no joke. Old Zhang's second son from the east end of the village got seriously injured from a fever."

Lin Nuo slapped his hand away.

"No fever. Just not going to get vaccinated."

"I won't fight..."

Liu Jianguo chewed on those two words:

"You mean, we're not playing today?"

"I'm not playing anymore. I won't touch cards again."

When Lin Nuo said those words, even he felt it was a little unreal.

In his past life, he had spent over twenty years at the card table, from village mahjong to dominoes on construction sites in the south, from bets of a few cents to hundreds of dollars per game. The only things his hands had ever touched were cards and cigarettes; he rarely even held Su Wanqing's hand.

But now that he says "I won't touch it anymore," I feel a sense of relief. It's like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and my burden feels much lighter.

Liu Jianguo stood there, his mouth slightly open.

"you……"

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed it back:

"Alright. I'm leaving now. If you change your mind, feel free to come anytime."

"I won't change it."

These three words were spoken casually, but there was something in his tone that made Liu Jianguo look at him again.

Having said that, Liu Jianguo turned and left.

Liu Jianguo turned and walked towards the courtyard gate. The hem of his military overcoat swayed back and forth at the back of his knees, and he walked with a slightly pigeon-toed gait.

After taking a few steps, I suddenly stopped.

He stood in the middle of the courtyard, as if he had remembered something.

"By the way, Nuozi."

"Um?"

"Your third son came to my place last night."

Lin Nuo's hand paused on the window frame. The rag remained pressed against the wooden lattice, unmoved.

"His face was off, ashen. I asked him what was wrong, but he wouldn't say, he just kept drinking. He must have drunk half a jin of baijiu, baijiu! Like it was water. I couldn't stop him, he just said, 'Leave me alone.' Later he got drunk and slept at my place."

When Liu Jianguo spoke, his voice was much lower than before, as if he was afraid of being overheard. He glanced towards the kitchen, then looked away.

Lin Nuo didn't say anything, but clenched the rag in her hand tightly.

He left before dawn.

Liu Jianguo said:

"When my wife got up, she was already gone. The bed was cold, so she must have been gone for a while. The blankets were folded neatly, as if she had never slept in them."

Did he say anything?

"No. I just drink alone, not saying a word."

Liu Jianguo shook his head, tucking his neck into the collar of his military overcoat:

"Nuozi, did something happen to your third son in the county? He doesn't seem quite right. He's usually so talkative, isn't he?"

"I didn't say a word last night, I just kept drinking. One glass after another, and after I finished, I just stared at the table, not even blinking."

Lin Nuo tapped her fingers lightly twice on the window frame.

"I understand. Thank you, Jianguo."

Liu Jianguo glanced at him again.

The Lin Nuo before him was completely different from the carefree loafer he used to be. He stood there silently wiping the windows, but his eyes seemed to hold something hidden within them. He'd seen that look in the eyes of the worldly-wise people in the village before.

"Alright, no need to thank me for this. I just felt something was off about him, so I wanted to tell you."

Liu Jianguo wrapped his military overcoat tighter and hunched his shoulders:

"Then I'm leaving."

"Um."

The gate closed. The wooden fence gate made a muffled sound as it closed, the hinges turned half a turn, then bounced back a little, leaving a crack.

Lin Nuo stood in front of the window, pondering Liu Jianguo's words.

Lin Jian drank half a jin of baijiu last night and left before dawn.

Where is he going? Back to the county town? Or somewhere else?

After the rabbit he raised died in his previous life, Lin Jian disappeared without a trace. The people at the fertilizer plant said there was no such person, and Lin Weiguo went to the county several times to look for him, but couldn't find a trace of him. At that time, Lin Nuo thought he had failed to make a living outside and was too ashamed to come back.

But now that I think about it, there are too many suspicious points.

……

At lunchtime, a simple meal was laid out in the main room: a plate of stir-fried cabbage, a bowl of radish soup, and a few dark-colored steamed buns. The cabbage was grown in their own field and stored in the cellar during the winter; it had a faint sweetness when stir-fried.

A few thin slices of fatty meat floated in the radish soup, with oil droplets swaying on the surface of the noodles.

Lin Weiguo sat at the table, holding a steamed bun in his hand. He took a bite and swallowed it.

"I need to find some work now that spring is here."

He said it in a muffled voice:

"You can't just stay at home doing nothing. Your eldest brother has two children who need to go to school, and your third brother isn't having an easy time in the county either. You can't expect your mother and me to support you for the rest of your life."

He said this every year, and every time he did in the past, Lin Nuo would always retort. It would be either "What's the rush?" or "It's not like I'm not going to do it," he would always have a reason to wait.

But today.

"OK."

Lin Nuo said.

Just one word.

The table fell silent.

Zhao Xiuying was picking up food with her chopsticks when they stopped in mid-air. Oil dripped from the vegetable leaves onto the table, but she didn't notice.

Lin Weiguo's steamed bun stopped at his mouth, his teeth marks were even visible, but he didn't chew it anymore.

The whole family was watching him.

Lin Nuo didn't talk back this time.

It was a serious and earnest answer.

Lin Nuo lowered his head and took a sip of radish soup. The soup was a little hot, so he blew on it and took another sip.

"I'll see what kind of work I can do when spring comes.

He said this in a calm tone, as if he were talking about something he had thought about long ago.

He had indeed thought it through.

Earn money to support the family and live a good life with Su Wanqing.

Lin Weiguo took the steamed bun away from his mouth, glanced at him, then looked at Zhao Xiuying. The couple exchanged a look.

How did this child change their personality?

Zhao Xiuying put the food on her chopsticks into her mouth, chewed it twice, swallowed, and then said:

"If only you had thought of that sooner..."

"Alright,"

Lin Weiguo interrupted her:

"Have a meal."

He picked up a piece of fatty meat from his bowl and put it into Lin Nuo's bowl, his movements a little stiff, as if he hadn't done this in a long time.

Lin Nuo glanced at the fatty meat in the bowl, picked it up, and ate it.

They didn't say anything.

This meat was bought a few days ago to celebrate paying off our debts. There wasn't much left over at that time.

Perhaps it was done on purpose, not as a reward for what he said last night.

After finishing his meal, Lin Weiguo took out a crumpled one-yuan bill from his pocket and slapped it on the table.

The banknotes were badly wrinkled, as if they'd been crumpled in a pocket for days. The edges were even frayed.

"Here you go. This is the money for your bus ticket to the county. Go early and come back early, don't wander around aimlessly."

Lin Nuo didn't stand on ceremony; he picked up the money, folded it, and put it in his pocket.

He stood up and walked to the kitchen door.

Zhao Xiuying was busy at the stove, her back to him, adding water to the pot. Her figure looked small against the stove, her cotton-padded coat hanging loosely.

Su Wanqing sat on a small stool behind the stove, picking vegetables. She kept her head down, pinching the vegetable leaves with her fingers, picking them one by one, placing the picked ones in the basket on her left, and throwing the rotten leaves on the ground at her feet.

Lin Nuo glanced at her profile.

She seemed to sense something, and paused for a moment, holding the vegetable leaf in her hand. Her fingernails dug into the stem, but she didn't break it.

There was a moment of silence in the kitchen. Only the fire crackled in the stove and the water in the pot bubbled and steamed.

"I'm leaving."

He said.

Zhao Xiuying hummed in agreement but didn't turn around.

Su Wanqing continued picking vegetables, and with a slight movement of her fingers, she snapped off the vegetable stem.

Lin Nuo turned and went out.

That's an ambitious goal.

……

The bus stop was at the village entrance. It was called a bus stop, but it was really just a wooden pole with an iron sign nailed to it. The sign had the words "Liujiagou" written on it, and most of the paint had peeled off.

There weren't many people waiting for the bus. An old woman was sitting on a rock, holding a blue cloth bundle tightly tied to her chest. It was unclear what was inside the bundle.

When we arrived, we could hear the sound from afar—the roar of an old-fashioned diesel engine, a loud, rumbling sound.

The car stopped in front of me, the door opened with a "bang," and the air brakes made a "hissing" sound.

Lin Nuo got into the car.

The vehicle was a dilapidated bus, its blue paint peeling off in patches, revealing the sheet metal underneath, which was covered in rust, as if it were covered in sores.

There is a crack in the upper right corner of the windshield, which extends from the edge to the middle and is taped up. The tape has turned yellow and the edges are curled up, making a whooshing sound when the wind blows.

There weren't many people on the bus. An elderly woman sat in the front row, clutching her bundle, her head resting against the window, seemingly asleep. A middle-aged man was also dozing off by the window, his mouth slightly open, emitting soft snores.

There were two young women in the back row, whispering to each other in very low voices.

Lin Nuo found a seat by the window. The leather seat was torn in several places, revealing the yellowed foam underneath, and it was uncomfortable to sit on. He shifted his position, finding a less uncomfortable spot, and leaned back in the seat.

The car started.

The roar of the engine made the entire car shake, and the windows hummed as if they were about to shatter. A plume of black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, standing out starkly against the snow.

The snow outside the window was a blanket of white.

The snow scene was beautiful, but Lin Nuo didn't appreciate it that much.

Lin Jian's face kept replaying in my mind.

Last night at the dinner table, when Lin Jian said, "Ma Shengli wouldn't lie to me," his eyes glanced to the side. The movement was so brief that the others at the table probably didn't even notice. But he did. He hadn't noticed that detail in his past life.

But it's different now.

The eyes of someone in their forties see things differently than they did in their twenties. In their twenties, they judged people by their appearance; in their forties, they look at the cracks—at things that are inadvertently revealed.

Not right.

Who exactly is Ma Shengli? Does he even exist at the fertilizer plant? Are his claims about raising rabbits true or false?

Why is Lin Jian in such a hurry to raise rabbits at home?

After the rabbit he raised died in his previous life, Lin Jian disappeared without a trace. They searched the county for a long time but couldn't find him.

When Lin Weiguo returned, he sat in the yard and smoked all night. The next day, half of his hair had turned white.

Looking back now, there are too many suspicious points.

If Ma Shengli is a fabrication, then why would Lin Jian fabricate this person?

If Ma Shengli is real, then why did he disappear after the rabbit died?

If raising rabbits can really make money, why doesn't Lin Jian raise them himself?

These questions swirled in his mind like a tangled mess, impossible to unravel.

Outside the window, the snow started falling again. The fine snowflakes pattered against the glass, making a soft, rustling sound, like someone gently tapping the glass with their fingers from the outside.

The distant villages, trees, and fields were blurred, turning into a vast expanse of white outlines.

Lin Nuo closed his eyes.

The bus swayed and rattled towards the county town, the roar of the engine like a song out of tune, playing over and over again.

The wheels crunched over the snow, making a soft, rustling sound. The car occasionally jolted, causing him to sway and his shoulder to hit the window.

He repeated the name in his mind again.

Ma Shengli.

Upon arriving in the county town, the first thing to do was to find this person. Find him and get the details.

If this person is fake.

That means Lin Jian is lying.

As for why Lin Jian lied, that's another question.

Lin Nuo opened her eyes and looked at the vast expanse of white snow outside the window.

The bus cast a long, dark shadow on the snow, crooked and twisted like a snake.

He thought to himself that he needed to find Ma Shengli first.