The small courtyard where we live is the West House.
Xiaoxuan was wiping those diving suits. There was a briquette fire burning a teapot in the room, and the teapot made a loud sound when it was boiling.
I picked up the teapot and poured water into the thermos bottle, looking over my head intentionally or unintentionally.
"Hey, old friend, I'm sorry to bother you during this big holiday. I want to ask you about someone, a guy whose nickname is Handsome Brother."
"Hmm...it's unlikely to be Yeluzi. They have professional equipment and may be often active in Guangdong and Guangxi."
"Okay, that's all you have to do, help me inquire, and get back to me as soon as you have any news."
I have been listening to similar calls like this, and I made six or seven calls at once. The results were not good at first. I didn’t know who this handsome guy was, nor his real name, age, etc., but the results on my head were not very good.
All my friends promised to help.
Friends ask friends, friends of friends ask friends.
After waiting for nearly two hours, there was really news.
One person told us: "Brother Handsome is probably a man in his forties, from Guangxi. He was caught fishing for nautilus on a foreign ship in his early years. After he came out, he pulled a few people together to form a small team, which was only active in the fishing industry.
I own one-third of an acre of land and am well-known in the industry."
After knowing the news, I took a pen and paper and laid down on the table to start writing and drawing.
I think the shape of the sketch he drew was probably that of some places around Guizailing, such as the small pond, Yin Yang Cave, and Zaizai Temple. He also drew a plan view after going down from the pond.
"strangeness....."
Tuotou murmured to himself: "If there is an ancient tomb underneath, it does not conform to the funeral customs of any dynasty, but if it is not a tomb, what on earth could it be..."
I told about the stone tablets and statues I saw at the Daoxian Cultural Management Office.
After hearing this, he fell into deep thought and wrote the word "Chen" on the sketch.
"Hey, Fengzi, come out quickly."
Bean sprouts suddenly appeared in the yard and waved to me.
"What are you calling me for?"
Douya pointed to the door and said, "It's so lively outside, didn't you hear it?"
What did I say about the excitement? Is it the Lantern Festival? Didn’t Xiao Tang say that the lanterns and fireworks will be set off at night three days later?
"It's not that. Do you remember that person we met by the river last time? The family invited a Taoist priest today. They should be holding a Dharma gathering. There are many people. Let's go and have a look."
"What are you doing watching football? You have nothing to do when you are full."
"Fuck," Dou Sprout said with dissatisfaction, staring at him: "At this point in time, do you think I, Lu Ziming, am the kind of person who likes to watch the excitement?"
"I call this an investigation!"
Douyazai touched his chin, narrowed his eyes and said, "There is only one truth."
"Have you forgotten the Taoist statue I fished out from the river?"
"The man happened to die by the river. Let me give you an analogy. What if the dead man stole the clay statue and then fell into the river? I think this is possible. Then, we can draw a conclusion now.
Argument, why do Taoist statues fall into the water?"
I took a big bite of the egg yolk pie in my mouth, stuffed the wrapping paper into Dou Sprouts' pocket and said:
"Brother Lu, what you said is awesome. Analyzing it is the same as not analyzing it."
We went to see it in the afternoon. Anyway, there were so many people, and no one noticed us following us.
A very strange folklore activity. The person who died had a wife and younger brother at home, but no children.
His younger brother found a Taoist priest and two apprentices from somewhere. The Taoist priest was about forty years old, a little fat, with a red face. He wore a red and yellow silk robe and a hat similar to Jigong's on his head.
, made of cloth.
In the early years, feudalism was more serious in remote mountainous areas, probably because of abnormal deaths. The ritual ceremony was divided into two sessions. People can watch the whole process. Anyone who can help will take care of the food. The first ritual ceremony starts at 12:45 noon.
, the second half starts around 9 p.m.
I think there is a reason for choosing this time. 12:45 noon is exactly the third quarter of noon in ancient times. Even though it is daytime, according to relevant sayings, this is the time of day when Yin energy is at its strongest. Yin is strong and Yang is declining.
, many people take a nap during this time.
By the pond.
The Taoist apprentice looked at his watch and shouted in a singing tone: "The time has come... let's go..."
Immediately, a villager picked up the leather bucket. The outer surface of the leather bucket was painted with a layer of lime. The bucket was filled with half a bucket of pond water. A piece of paper money with a square hole was also thrown in. After the paper money got soaked, it slowly sank to the bottom of the bucket.
Seeing that the paper money had sunk to the bottom, the man carrying the bucket scooped up some water with a wooden ladle and sprinkled it on the ground. He muttered something. I can only guess what he meant was: "Let's go home."
"
"Boom!"
The villagers clapped their hands against the big copper scrapers, and some carried drums on their backs, played drums, played suonas, and started walking.
The mother-in-law and brother of the deceased man were dressed in white. They walked in the middle and sobbed. From time to time they called the deceased's name several times, which should be Tang Gui.
As we walked from the pond to the entrance of the village, I asked Dou Sprout in a low voice, "Why are you crying?"
Dou Sprout pretended to wipe his tears and whispered: "Didn't you see that the people in front of you were crying? If we follow suit, others will think that we are descendants and will not attract attention. Are you making me laugh?"
I shook my head, too lazy to talk to him.
Before entering the house, the pond water in the leather bucket was poured at the door of the house, and the Taoist priest with a moustache held up a cloth prayer flag and waved it several times in the air.
After entering the courtyard, an offering table was placed in the main hall of the house, and incense burners and tributes were all available.
A large black-painted coffin was placed in the corner of the room. Two stools were used to support the bottom of the coffin, which was about one meter above the ground. Tang Gui should be lying in the coffin.
The Taoist priest with a mustache waved cloth prayer flags at the altar table, and the suona player and drum player played in the room for half an hour. The first half of the ritual was completed, and then he handed out bowls to the helpers for dinner.
What I ate was steamed buns and fatty pork stew. I didn't really want to eat them, so I only took a little bit. I filled a full bowl of bean sprouts and had four steamed buns skewered on my chopsticks.
"Hey, I'm doing the dojo. I haven't got any sea sand for seven meals. I'll get a paparazzi stool for Han."
"What? Are you talking to me?" I pointed at myself.
The person who spoke to me was a young man in his twenties. He looked at me for a few seconds and said in Mandarin: "Who are you? You are not from our village, why are you here to eat."
I said who are you and why are you here for dinner?
He said: "I am a relative of Uncle Tang, so of course I have to eat."
"I am also a relative of his, a distant relative. Haha, what did you just say? I didn't understand." I laughed.
He held the bowl and said, "I said the rice was too bland, so I asked you to take that stool to me."
"Oh, I think it's a bit weak too," I handed him the little matza.
He took the little mazza and sat down to eat. I smiled and chatted with this man, making insinuations and asking about Tang Gui's family situation and interpersonal relationships.
At this time, Dou Sprout took a bite of steamed bun and two bites of vegetables, and listened with his ears perked up.
