The old woman added a little more goat's milk wine and spoke warmly in words that I couldn't understand.
I laughed along, not knowing what he was talking about.
Suddenly, Mu Shiqin beside him nodded and said, "Why do you mind? I'm sorry, it's us who disturbed you."
After hearing this, the old woman shook her head quickly and said something I couldn't understand.
Mu Shiqin continued, "Thank you."
After saying that, he drank the goat's milk wine in his hand.
I looked at him in surprise, were they having a conversation?
Mu Shiqin actually understood this ancient Mongolian language.
I quietly nuzzled him, leaned against his ear, and asked in a low voice, "How do you understand Mongolian language?"
Mu Shiqin glanced at me and nodded matter-of-factly, "When I was in college, I was a little interested in Genghis Khan. I researched his race by the way. But I really didn't expect that there would be people communicating in such an ancient language as Mongolian."
"
I looked at him with admiration and asked in a low voice, "What did the old lady say just now?"
Mu Shiqin was silent for a while, and then said in a low voice, "My mother-in-law just said that her daughter-in-law went in to worship her dead son and grandson. Let us not mind."
"Worship?" I glanced meaningfully at Naren Tuoya who was kneeling behind the curtain.
"Yes. He must have been dead for a long time. They couldn't worry about it, so they decided to pay their respects at home."
I kept looking intently behind the curtain.
No wonder I didn't see the men in the family as soon as I entered the door. It turned out that they had all passed away, leaving two lonely women mourning them and feeling sad.
Not long after, Narentoya walked out from behind the curtain, her eyes red.
She wiped her red face, forced a smile on our face, and went into the tent under the pretext of making bed for us.
At this moment, I understood how terrible death is.
The dead may not feel anything. The pain of death is reserved for the living.
We must bear the sorrow of the deceased together with the bitterness of missing, regret, sorrow and helplessness.
Death is a sad thing, but remembering it is even more desolate.
They set up the deceased's memorial tablet at home and pay homage to it every day, adding salt to the wound and constantly reminding themselves of the fact that their loved one has passed away.
Every day, every time I worship, I experience the original pain and sadness. I torture myself with the dead again and again. Isn’t this pitiful?
It may not be a good thing to dwell on some things. Being sad once is enough.
No need to go back and forth to mourn and repeat.
Forgetting is sometimes a kind of relief for the deceased.
Unfortunately, these truths are only clear to onlookers.
I think if it were me who lost a loved one, I would mourn in a more extreme way.
Therefore, I am not qualified to criticize or persuade this almost cruel memorial.
Narentoya made the bed and told us we could rest.
I thanked her emotionally.
She smiled shyly and told us enthusiastically, "There will be an annual bonfire party tomorrow night. The whole clan will participate. Young girls and boys will perform at the bonfire party. If you want to find your friends, go and watch."
Look, maybe you'll find it there."
I thanked her very gratefully and then lay down on the mat covered with cashmere blanket. It was very comfortable.
Narentoya turned off the light and helped her mother-in-law into the tent.
The night was very quiet, so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat clearly.
I kept looking at the curtain of the inner tent with curiosity. I suddenly wanted to know what kind of people were inside.