"White Bird"

——"Travel to the Sea" series? Extra chapter

Text/Lyle

one

All beautiful stories about punishing evil and promoting good always have a beginning full of kindness. I think if Xu Xian was not a poor scholar but a woodcutter in the mountains, he would have stewed the White Lady into snake soup nine times out of ten.

.Zhao Daque was not a poor scholar, nor a woodcutter in the mountains. He made a living by hunting, and was a real pragmatist. Therefore, in more than fifty years of life, the birds, animals, fish and insects that died under Zhao Daque were

There are eight hundred without Qian'er.

You rely on mountains to eat mountains, and you rely on water to drink water. Talking to a hunter about the principle of "one life is worth a thousand gold" or "it is better to build a seven-level pagoda" is as shameless as standing in front of this person and shouting: "Hey! This hunter

, you go jump into the river and commit suicide!" - You don't have to wait for the old man to hit you with his fist, you can deeply feel how the three words "unkind" were written in the past?

But a hunter is a hunter after all, not a butcher or a murderer after all. Zhao Daque, Mr. Zhao, still understands the principle of "you can't kill chickens to get eggs, and fish in dry lakes". Under normal circumstances, if you catch small rabbits, deer, etc., the old man will let them go without saying a word.

Well—however, today is an exception.

Although simple philosophical principles are wise sayings, neither wise nor philosophical principles can be eaten as food. On this twelfth lunar month day when the mountains were covered with heavy snow, Mr. Zhao narrowed his eyes and confirmed that what was lying on the ground was not a snow dumpling but a small white bird.

At that moment, the old man grinned, showing his big yellow teeth, and slapped his thigh:

Dinner is ready!

Without thinking much at the moment, Mr. Zhao rushed to the snow, picked up the little white bird by its neck - this guy seemed to be very cold, and he only fluttered his wings lightly.

He stopped moving, didn't even scream, and just stared at the old man with his dark brown eyes.

The old man bared his teeth and smiled very kindly at the little white bird. He also kindly picked up the bird's neck and shook it, shaking off all the snow covering its feathers——

Very good! At least one and a half pounds!

After weighing the weight, Old Man Zhao was so happy that his brows were filled with smiles, and the wrinkles on his brows were so full that it was like "peaks upon peaks"! Just as the old man was happily carrying the bird by the neck and walking down the mountain, it started to snow again.

Already.

The snowy feathers all over the sky slowly fall, and a gray-white curtain opens between the sky and the earth. If you are a literati, 80% of the time you will recite the poem "Ten thousand people's traces have disappeared, and I am alone fishing for the snow in the cold river". Ordinary people

Even if his consciousness is not that high and his artistic conception is not that far-reaching, he still rubs his hands and exclaims "It's snowing like a feather".

However, in the eyes of Mr. Zhao, the white ice crystals floating in the sky have become sweet white sugar or flavored fine salt - in other words, the old man has already made a difference between "salted duck" and "osmanthus flower".

I hesitated for a long time between the two options of "sugar duck", although it is obvious that this white bird is not bred from ducks.

The snow slowly covered the mountain road, and the road down the mountain was covered thickly. It was white in all directions, and the sky was so gloomy that the sun was not shining. Now I couldn't even distinguish the east from the north. The old man originally planned to go down the mountain to go home and have a fire.

A large pot of boiling water can be used to scald bird feathers.

At this moment, he looked at the sky and the earth and was in trouble. He couldn't see the road clearly, he was terribly cold, and he was half hungry. The old man had no choice but to pick up a few branches, then sit down on the snow and pull out of his arms.

He took out the flint and started to light the fire——

Tsk! If you can’t eat salted duck, let’s go to the roast duck headquarters!

Thinking of this, the old man got excited and rubbed the flint more vigorously - the sparks popped out, but the firewood had already been wetted by the snow, how could it be burned?! After trying no less than ten times, the old man became angry.

He curled his lips and let out a "poof" sound.

Seeing that there was no more roast duck to eat, I couldn't eat any more. It didn't matter if I ate raw meat, but if I didn't roast the bird feathers and skins, it would ruin my stomach?! Although Zhao Daque had always believed that "no"

It’s not clean, you won’t get sick after eating it.” But facing the soft fluff, he still didn’t have the guts to put his mouth down.

The little white bird was held in the palm of his hand, but it could not be roasted. The old man could only watch it and get anxious. After being depressed for a long time and cursing "What a thief", he finally had no choice but to let it live -

He threw the white bird aside casually on the snow, and saw that it could not move. Its white wings were gradually covered with snow, and soon it was almost out of sight. The old man was also very cold, and suddenly there was a ball in his head.

A flash of inspiration——

Hey! Isn’t this a ready-made duvet?

After thinking about this, Zhao Daque immediately carried the little white bird back. Just as he was about to put it in his arms to keep himself warm, he saw that the bird was not dead yet, and its dark brown eyes were still looking at people. The old man was very nervous.

He let out a "hum":

"Dead bird! Listen to me! If you dare to peck me, I will break your neck!"

Still looking at him with bright black eyes, the old man said "tsk tsk" twice and put the little white bird into his cotton coat - as expected, the down insulation was really good! He immediately felt much warmer.

In the snow, the old man just sat on the ground. The snow quickly covered his half-white hair, and gradually dyed it into a head full of silver threads. The howling north wind blew on his face like a pain.

It was cut with a knife. The old man's hands and feet were stiff from the cold, but the area in his arms was still warm.

In the ice and snow, besides the sound of the north wind, there was the sound of falling snow. Close to the patch in my arms, I could still hear the faint heartbeat. Gradually, the bird began to stir, and its wings moved, perhaps slowly.

The excitement has come.

One thought of kindness saves two lives.

When the snow stopped, the old man rubbed his frozen hands, but his movements were no longer very agile. Before he could do anything, the little white bird in his arms poked its head out of the cotton coat and jumped.

Get on the old man's hand and squat down.

The warm feathers warmed the old man's hands in a short time. The old man bared his yellow teeth and said, "You idiot is still useful! Come on, warm my ears, they are almost frozen!"

The little white bird seemed to really understand what he said, its bright black eyes flashed, and then it jumped on the old man's shoulder, rubbing its neck and wings against the old man's ears.

"Tsk tsk!" The old man smacked his lips, "This fur is warm, it will definitely be soft to make a quilt!"

The little white bird was so frightened that it didn't dare to move, and bent its neck stiffly on the old man's shoulder.

Zhao Daque grabbed the bird by the neck and slid the little white bird in front of him: "Silly bird! I'm in a good mood this time, so get out! Next time I see you, I will make you a sweet and sour bird!"

As he spoke, he threw the little white bird to the side. The little white bird flapped its wings and flew around the old man twice, and finally flew eastward and was no longer visible.

The old man wrapped up his cotton-padded clothes and walked on the snow, humming a ditty as he walked: "I'm Zhao Daque, Que, is the word for missing a duvet..."

two

This year's winter seems to be particularly long. Heavy snowfalls cover the mountains every three days. The old man cannot go up to the mountains to hunt, so he can only eat the bacon made in the autumn.

The bacon was very salty and tasty, but after eating it for seven days, the old man's mouth was full of salty taste, and he had to drink water from time to time. The other food had no taste at all in his mouth, just when the old man cursed and yelled "In my mouth"

Come out like a bird!" When the sound came, there was a knock on the firewood door.

Gently, knock twice first, then twice.

The old man's place is a remote place, where birds don't lay eggs and turtles don't come to the shore. You may not meet a passing guest all year round. It's strange that the old man is used to being lonely and doesn't bother to answer the door when he hears it. The door knocks twice.

The old man shouted impatiently:

"Have you brought any meat?! Come in if you have meat, get out if you don't!"

The door stopped ringing.

The old man felt strange now: Everyone knew it was nonsense, could it be that the idiot who knocked on the door really went back to buy meat?!

After thinking about this, the old man walked to the door and opened it:

There was not even a single figure on the white snow. There was a neatly folded quilt lying across the ground.

The old man touched it with his hand and found that it was soft and gentle and filled with feathers.

The next day, it still snowed non-stop. The man outside the door knocked gently again, first twice, and then twice.

Zhao Daque let out a "hum" from his nostrils. Just when he was about to shout, he heard the person outside the door whisper:

"I brought meat."

Without saying a word, the old man immediately ran to open the door in three steps at a time.

Outside the door, stood a handsome young man in white. The young man's head was slightly lowered, his back was a little hunched, and he was staring at the ground as if he could see a hole. He was holding a straw rope in his hand, and two ropes were tied to it.

fish.

"Damn! You bastard, how dare you lie to me?!" Mr. Zhao roared, "Where's the meat?"

The young man was stunned for a moment and raised the straw rope in his hand.

"Damn! Is this considered meat?!" The old man was lecturing as he snatched the straw rope holding the fish and threw it into the house. "Fish is not considered meat. Only pork and beef are called meat. Understand.

No?"

The young man lowered his head and responded softly: "Oh."

The old man glanced at him: "Remember to bring some meat tomorrow!"

"Yes." The young man nodded, still looking at the snow with his head lowered.

"Then why are you still standing there?!" The old man slammed the door, and after a while he heard a shout from inside the room: "It's better to have braised beef! Bring two more pots of wine!"

On the third day, the young man brought wine and braised beef. This time, for the sake of meat, the old man let the young man in. Then, he grabbed the wine jar without hesitation and drank it with his head held high.

After taking two sips, the old man glanced sideways: "You brat! What's your name?"

The young man hung his head and was stunned for a long time, frowning deeply, and then slowly replied: "Bai...Bai Wen."

"What are you here for?"

"Report..." The young man had just said one word, but suddenly he hesitated and stopped speaking, hesitating and falling silent.

The old man glanced sideways at him and looked the young man in white up and down. In the end, the old man rolled his eyes and said: "I, Zhao Daque, lack is the 'que' that lacks a son. From now on, you will
To be continued...