Reborn in 1982, the prodigal son returns

Spring has arrived, the frozen soil is thawing, and it's the perfect time to make adobe bricks.

As dawn broke, Lin Weiguo got up. Zhao Xiuying was tending the fire in the kitchen, the water in the pot bubbling away. Lin Weiguo pulled out some decent clothes from the cupboard.

"Dad, are you really going?"

Zhao Xiuying peeked out from the kitchen.

"The village chief called people for us, so I can't not go. Besides, if I don't keep an eye on Nuozi's matter, who will?"

As Lin Weiguo spoke, he took out a few yuan from the drawer and put it in his pocket.

"where did you go?"

"Buy meat. We have to bring some meat with lunch; we can't let people eat cornbread."

Zhao Xiuying paused for a moment, then smiled. This old man, though he didn't say it, loved his son more than anyone else.

Lin Weiguo pushed open the door and went out.

In the town, the supply and marketing cooperative had just opened its doors.

Lin Weiguo stood in front of the counter. He looked at the pork on the cutting board and pointed to a piece with thick fat:

"Comrade, give me three jin of this piece."

I also bought cabbage, vermicelli, and a bag of flour. By the time I was carrying the things back, it was already broad daylight.

Five strong laborers had already arrived in the courtyard. They were Liu Lao Er, Li Wu, Zhao Da Hu, and two young men, one named Liu Tie Zhu and the other Sun Daniu.

They were squatting against the wall, cigarettes between their fingers, chatting idly.

Seeing Lin Weiguo return carrying meat and flour, Liu Lao Er's eyes lit up:

"Uncle Lin, what are we having for lunch?"

"Pork and cabbage buns."

Their eyes lit up. These days, meat was hard to come by, and being able to eat a meal of pork and cabbage buns was considered a very good meal.

Li Wu swallowed hard.

"Uncle Lin, don't worry, we'll definitely make these adobe bricks for you perfectly."

Zhao Dahu stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and patted the dirt off his backside:

"Don't just talk the talk, walk the walk."

Lin Weiguo handed the things to Zhao Xiuying, rolled up his sleeves, and led several strong laborers to dig yellow mud at the east end of the village.

That piece of land was designated by the village chief, Liu Guicun. The yellow clay has good adhesion, making it ideal for making adobe bricks.

A group of people dug and picked, working with great enthusiasm.

Lin Weidong also came.

He was wearing a dark blue cotton-padded jacket, standing in the middle of the yard, directing them to pour the yellow mud into the designated spot, and then instructing them to fetch water and chop straw.

"Too much water will make the mud too thin; too little water will make the mud too hard. Chop the rice straw into pieces about the length of a finger and mix it in to make the mud firmer."

Lin Weidong used to be an accountant, so he's quite good at this kind of work.

Around noon, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen. Steamed buns filled with pork and cabbage were being steamed one after another, with white steam rising and the fragrance spreading throughout the courtyard.

The aroma drew the strong men to a faster pace. Liu Lao Er swung his hoe with even more force, muttering, "With this aroma, I can work until dark."

Lin Nuo squatted in the yard, helping to stir the mud. Qi Dawu also came to help. Lin Weiguo watched from the side, saying nothing, but his eyes showed satisfaction.

When the steamed buns were ready, Zhao Xiuying lifted the lid, and a cloud of steam billowed out, filling the air with a wonderful aroma. She squinted and used chopsticks to carefully pick out the buns one by one, arranging them on the steamer rack.

The steamed buns were plump and white, with thin skins and generous fillings. Oil seeped out from the dough, leaving a small ring of oil stains at the bottom of the buns.

"Dinner's ready!"

Zhao Xiuying called out. Several strong laborers put down their work, washed their hands, and sat around the wooden table in the courtyard. On the table were several dishes of pickled vegetables, a bowl of steamed buns, and a pot of bulk white wine.

Liu Lao Er grabbed a steamed bun, took a big bite, and oil drizzled from the corner of his mouth. He licked it with his tongue.

"Uncle Lin, your steamed buns are even more delicious than those at the restaurants in town!"

Li Wu's mouth was stuffed full, and he mumbled:

"Of course! Pork and cabbage, this meat is really fatty and juicy."

None of them ate very well, but no one laughed at anyone else. These days, being able to eat a meal like this is like celebrating the New Year.

Zhao Dahu picked up his wine bowl, took a sip, and smacked his lips:

"Uncle Lin, Nuozi has really made something of himself. He's hunting and raising chickens. He's the only young man in our village who can do that."

Lin Weiguo held his bowl without replying, but his eyes shone with pride.

A few women passed by at the village entrance and, seeing the lively meal in the courtyard, started making sarcastic remarks. Aunt Wang curled her lip:

"What kind of luck has the Lin family had? That good-for-nothing from before has now become a hot commodity."

Aunt Liu chimed in:

"That's right, they're hunting wild boars and raising chickens. I heard they're even building chicken coops, which will cost them a lot of money."

"Invest money? Where would the Lin family get the money?"

Another aunt lowered her voice.

"Su Wanqing is educated; maybe it was her idea."

Zhao Xiuying overheard their conversation but didn't respond. After all these years, she was used to it; a few sarcastic remarks were nothing to her.

Lin Nuo heard it too. He stood up, walked to the courtyard gate, and smiled at the women.

"Aunties, would you like to come in and have a couple?"

The women blushed, waved their hands awkwardly, and quickly walked away.

In the afternoon, the sun began to set.

A green mail bicycle stopped in front of village head Liu Guicun's house. The postman took a brown paper envelope from his bag and handed it over:

"Uncle Liu, there's a letter from your village. And a money order."

Liu Guicun took the envelope, glanced at it, and saw that the remittance slip was addressed to "Lin Nuo" and contained two yuan. He was taken aback. Wow, it was from the county newspaper.

He turned and went into the house, turned on the megaphone on the table, and shouted into the microphone:

"Hey, everyone in Liujiagou, listen up! Lin Nuo! Lin Nuo has received a remittance slip for his article payment! Please come to the brigade headquarters to collect it!"

The loudspeaker's sound echoed through the village, once, twice, three times.

Lin Nuo, who was stirring mud in the yard, was stunned for a moment. He hadn't expected that his article, "The Sad Little Wangzhuang," would actually be published, and that he would even receive a payment. The money certainly wasn't much, but the feeling of being recognized was more exciting than the money itself.

He stuck the shovel into the ground, wiped his hands on his trouser leg, and walked towards the brigade headquarters.

I ran into a few aunties on the way, who were watching the commotion and said:

"Nuozi, you can write articles too?"

Aunt Wang looked on in surprise.

"Just writing something."

Lin Nuo smiled but didn't explain further.

Upon arriving at the brigade, Liu Guicun handed him the remittance slip and looked him up and down several times:

"Nuozi, you're quite something! You can even write articles? What's the topic?"

"The Sad Little Wangzhuang"

Liu Guicun smacked his lips:

"That name sounds impressive. But..."

He was somewhat puzzled:

"You didn't even finish junior high, how did you manage to write this?"

Lin Nuo smiled, not answering directly, but simply put the money away and tucked the letter into his pocket. He thought for a moment, then added:

"Uncle, actually, this article was written by Wanqing. She was embarrassed and asked me to receive it on her behalf."

Liu Guicun nodded, without doubt:

"I knew it. It's normal for college students to have this ability."

Lin Nuo didn't explain further and turned to leave. He thought to himself: Teacher Su, I'll remember this credit for you, and I'll repay you properly tonight.

As evening approached, a jeep drove into Liujiagou.

The car was military green, covered in a layer of yellow dust, and half of the license plate was obscured by mud, making the number illegible. The car stopped at the village entrance, and three people got out.

All three were wearing dark jackets, high-top leather shoes, and their trousers were covered in mud.

The leader was in his thirties, with a square face, thick eyebrows, deep-set eyes, and high cheekbones. His gaze swept around the area, carrying a hint of fierceness.

The other two were a short, stout man carrying a bulging canvas bag with the strap digging into his shoulder; the other was tall and thin with large knuckles and black dirt embedded in his fingernails.

All three of them carried an indescribable feeling.

They didn't go into the village; they went straight to the small shop at the village entrance.

The person in the lead walked in, his gaze sweeping over the shelves, his voice not loud:

"Comrade, a few pounds of biscuits, and a few bottles of liquor, high-proof, please."

The proprietress felt a little uneasy when she saw these people, and hurriedly took things off the shelf. The man didn't say much, paid, and got into his car with the items.

Lin Weidong happened to come out of his house and saw this scene.

His gaze lingered on the jeep for a moment, then shifted to the backs of the three men. Something just didn't seem right.

"Uncle Weidong, what are you looking at?" the proprietress asked, peeking out.

Have you seen those people before?

"No. It's my first time here. I'm from out of town. I bought some things and left."

Lin Weidong hummed in response and didn't ask any more questions. He turned and walked towards Lin Nuo's house, feeling that something was amiss.

Lin Nuo was squatting in the yard washing her feet, which were covered in mud. Seeing Lin Weidong arrive, she quickly stood up.

"Sir, what's wrong?"

Lin Weidong squatted down and lowered his voice:

"A jeep pulled up at the village entrance just now, and three people got out, bought some biscuits and alcohol, and left. They didn't seem like good people."

Lin Nuo was stunned for a moment:

"Sir, how did you figure that out?"

"Those people had a smell, I can't quite put my finger on it."

Lin Weidong had worked as a commune accountant and had met countless people. He was almost always right when it came to judging people.

Lin Nuo frowned:

"Sir, what do you think they do?"

Lin Weidong shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe.

"I can't quite put my finger on it. But he's definitely not a respectable person. Be careful when you go into the mountains recently. Take the old foreman with you, and don't go alone."

Lin Nuo nodded:

"Understood, sir."

Lin Weidong stood up, brushed the dirt off his knees, and turned to leave. After a few steps, he stopped again.

"Nuozi, have someone keep an eye out for those people. If they settle down in the village, let me know."

Lin Nuo agreed and told Liu Jianguo and the others to keep an eye on things.

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking.

Zhang, the foreman, came looking for them, leaning on a wooden stick. He stood at the courtyard gate and glanced at Lin Nuo.

"Let's go. Spring is here, let's go into the mountains."

Lin Nuo slung his musket over his shoulder and followed the old foreman into the old forest.

Spring has arrived, and the snow in the mountains has mostly melted, revealing dark brown soil and withered grass roots.

Zhang led the way, and after about an hour, they entered the depths of the old forest. The trees here were thicker than those outside, with intertwined branches.

Zhang stopped in front of a big tree.

This is an old tree with a trunk so thick that it would take two people to hug it. There is a pattern carved on the trunk, and three cigarettes are stuck at the base of the tree. The cigarettes have burned out, leaving only the filters, which are being blown crooked by the wind.

Zhang pointed to the pattern on the tree trunk, his voice low:

"Bai Nacha. The mountain god. According to the old custom, the first prey hunted in the mountains every spring was offered to Bai Nacha. This was the custom of the Oroqen people in the past."

He leaned the stick against the tree, pulled out his pipe from his waist, filled it with tobacco, lit it, and took a puff. The smoke slowly dissipated in the morning light.

"These days, the older generation can't control the younger generation. They don't follow the rules anymore. But when you come here in the future, just pay your respects. Consider it... a sign of respect for the mountain."

Lin Nuo nodded and walked to the tree. He bent down, picked up the three cigarette filters from under the tree roots, and placed them on the stone next to him.

Then he took out three cigarettes from his pocket, lit them, and stuck them in the soil in front of the tree roots. The red glow of the cigarette butts flickered in the morning light, and wisps of smoke rose.

Zhang, the foreman, stood to the side, watching Lin Nuo's actions without saying a word. But the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were satisfied.

Lin Nuo took two steps back and bowed to the old pine tree.

Then he turned around and looked at Zhang Batou:

"Uncle Zhang, which way do we go next?"

Zhang, the foreman, didn't answer. His gaze fell on the three extinguished cigarette filters at the base of the tree, and his brows slowly furrowed.

"Uncle Zhang, what's wrong?"

Zhang squatted down, picked up the three cigarette filters, looked at them in his palm, and saw they were Daqianmen cigarettes.

An old hunter wouldn't offer cigarettes to the mountain god.

"Someone has been here before, from out of town."

Zhang stood up and glanced into the depths of the woods. He put his pipe in his mouth.

"Let's go. Let's go further inside."

The two walked deeper into the woods, the dry grass rustling under their feet. Occasionally, a squirrel would dart across the trees.

Zhang led the way, walking much slower than before, stopping every now and then to listen intently. Lin Nuo also sensed something was amiss and cautiously looked around.

After walking for about the time it takes to brew a cup of tea, Zhang suddenly stopped, squatted down, and used a stick to push aside a clump of withered grass.

A spent cartridge lay in the grass.

It is made of bronze and gleams with a brassy sheen in the sunlight.

The old foreman picked up the spent cartridge, said nothing, and stuffed it into his pocket.

"Uncle Zhang, what kind of bullet casing is this?"

Zhang didn't answer. He glanced into the depths of the woods and said in a low voice:

"Don't ask anymore."

The two continued walking forward.

After walking about two hundred steps, Zhang suddenly stopped. He turned around, winked at Lin Nuo, and then squatted down to rest.

Lin Nuo also squatted down, pretending to rest.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move about fifty paces to his left, behind a clump of bushes.

A gun barrel emerged from the bushes, dark and pointed directly in their direction.

Lin Nuo was startled. His fingers unconsciously reached for the trigger of the musket, but Zhang, the foreman, held them down.

The old leader didn't look up:

"Don't move."

The two people squatted under the tree roots, neither of them looking in that direction.

After a while, the gun barrel slowly retracted. A very faint rustling sound came from behind the bushes, as if someone was walking away in the distance, stepping on dry grass.

Zhang stood up, as if nothing had happened:

"Let's go. We're out of stock today."

He turned around, glanced at Lin Nuo, and said nothing.

The two walked back the way they came. Neither of them spoke.

Reaching the edge of the woods, the sun was already high overhead. Zhang stopped and gave a few instructions:

"Noko."

"Hey, Uncle Zhang."

"From now on, don't go into the old forest alone. And don't go too deep into it."

Lin Nuo was stunned for a moment:

"Uncle Zhang, why?"

Zhang, the foreman, spoke up:

Don't ask why.

He didn't explain. He turned and left.

After walking a few steps, he gave another instruction:

"Got it?"

Lin Nuo looked at Zhang Ba Tou's thin back and nodded:

"I'll remember that, Uncle Zhang."