Short story

The mountains are full of golden yellow, and they are all green bar trees. The forest is covered with a thick layer of leaves, and the feet trample on it, drowning the calves, crisp and crisp. Out of the Woods, it is a field full of mountains. Where there is smoke, haystacks grow in the ground like mushrooms. No matter who lives by the field, there are several Chinese tallow trees. In autumn, all the leaves turn blood red. When dusk was heavy, several shrike birds flew in, causing their throats to hover. They all flew away when the wind blew. Not far away, the bamboo forest is like the sea, like a mass of green fog, and like a touch of green branches in the palm of your hand. Next to the bamboo forest, there is a blue roof, which is in harmony with the dusk at the moment.

Just thinking, my mother called. I asked her how autumn was in the mountains. She said that the mountains are golden, the Chinese tallow trees beside the fields are red, and the cabbage, red rape and celery in the vegetable fields next to the cowshed are full of vitality. Keep pace with the autumn in my hometown. Isn't there a bamboo forest next to the cowshed? When was the vegetable field opened? Mom said I lost my head in reading. 10 years ago, the cattle were sold, leaving only the cowshed. The next year, the bamboo bloomed and all the green leaves fell off. Small bumps appeared on the branches. From a distance, a large bamboo forest seems to have been poked with countless black spots by a child's pencil. Soon, the green bamboo poles began to turn yellow, and the ground was covered with bamboo flowers like small screws. The next year, all the bamboos were covered. I said, didn't bamboo blossom and bear fruit? Why isn't there a small bamboo? Mom said that bamboo has no seeds to pass on to the next generation. Thanks to the bamboo whip in the field, the fruit fell and died not long after. I was wondering why I came home on holiday and saw a bamboo forest, but my mother said it was a vegetable field. My mother suddenly said, until I die, there is one thing, the mountains are covered with snow, and I am dead. I said, who? The mountains are full of snow? How did this happen? At this time, dad came over after taking a shower. I said, dad, off work? He said that something had happened in the factory and he had a holiday. I feel weak and uneasy. What's the matter? Dad said someone was arrested. The mountains are covered with snow. It didn't come out when it was filmed, but it was buried below.

I asked, how did he get to the coal factory?

Dad said, didn't you owe a lot of money to buy trees before?

I said, I mean, is he crazy?

2

The mountains are covered with snow. Every time I hear his name, I think of the man who opened the door and covered the mountains with snow. He has disappeared from my mind for a long time. I first met him when I was four or five years old. Many strange things happened that year. At that time, there was no electricity in the village At night, every household lights kerosene lamps and candles. After dinner, sitting in the yard, the moon is bright and lang lang is overhead, and grandma begins to tell ghost stories. Speaking of chihuo sticking out his tongue in the Woods, the half ghost in the middle looks for a child with a matching upper body in the village every night. The wind is blowing, dogs are barking, shivering and setting off firecrackers all the way from the coccyx to the spine to the ear.

Halfway through the story, there was a harsh voice in the night. We listened carefully. This is a windmill. Windmill is an agricultural tool for filtering grains and impurities. It is made of wood, like a standing cow. When in use, the grain is poured into the funnel at the top, the left hand pulls the plug to open the gate, and the right hand turns the iron handle at the same time. The blades in the wind box turn, and when the wind blows, the particles fall like a waterfall. As soon as the wind blows, the grain falls to the front outlet, the heavier impurities are pushed to the back outlet, and the lighter impurities are blown out from the tuyere. When the windmill rotates, it makes a unique sound. Sentimental ... sticky substance. The intensity is different, the speed is different, and the sound is sharp or thin. Kind of like a cuckoo, but not all of it. Kind of like an owl, not all of it. The pitch changes seamlessly from low to high, just like a water drop has a perfect curve. Sometimes there is a hoarse voice, which is caused by the sudden lack of strength when the iron handle rotates. Who is loading food at night? We stood up one by one, looking for the direction of the sound. Nine areas. Jiutian is a terraced field, and the rice has long been harvested, and no one has been there. We stared at each other, and a fear rose from the vest.

Bean-sized candlelight holds up a bright space swaying from the darkness, in which there are chattering voices from different directions. The sound of windmills alarmed the whole village. Footsteps came from behind the house, and soon the yard was crowded with people. People ask grandpa, Long Dagong, what is this noise? Grandpa has read a book and is an old captain. He has a wide range of knowledge and is very popular with the public. Mars is bright and dark. Grandpa spit out one mouthful smoke and shook his head.

Old people, women and children stay at home, men, go. All the men in the village went out that night. Carrying torches, sickles, machetes, hoes and steel drills, they circled nine fields from all directions and gradually approached the sound source, just like the edge of a circle infinitely approached the center of the circle. The noise and shouts hit the mountain wall and echoed round and round. Looking for it in the wild for a long time, I'm not sure where the sound came from. A second ago, I was ahead, and I caught up with him. Before I arrived, the voice came from behind, turned around and groped, and the voice was at my feet. These people held their breath and stared into their eyes to make sure that the sound really came from the soil under their feet. A wave of fear seems to have emerged from the soil, and everyone is immersed in it like fog. Dozens of hearts were pounding and the ground shook slightly. The mountain was covered with snow, which wiped the sweat from my forehead. With a sudden jump, he jumped off the ridge and said, I'll do it. The blade of the snow-white hoe shone with fiery red light, and it fell to the ground with a swish. The straw was cut off with a brush and lifted, revealing ham-like red soil. Digging three feet into the ground, the sound is getting closer and closer, and gradually there is a head jar voice, as if from a distant place. People believe that sound is below. Why are there windmills down there? There is no reasonable explanation except ghosts.

I sat in the yard, next to a red, orange and dark green leaf soaked in the night, making the tree look bare. A red moon hangs in the sky. From the bottom, it seems that there are countless red moons because of oranges. People lit piles of straw, flames rolled in the fields, and windmills kept screaming.

The snow all over the mountain spat on the palm, rubbed it a few times, clenched the hoe, held it high, and fell with a bang, almost hooking the moon. The sound disappeared. The cold wind blew the flashlight whirring, and the heartbeats overlapped, just like a series of nervous knocks at the door in the middle of the night. These people did not move. Listen carefully. The sound disappeared. Face slightly loose, a surprised, immediately nervous again. A few hundred meters away, the sound of a windmill came from Zhonganzi. Torch chasing torch running all the way, just turn on the high ridge, the sound of the windmill ran to the farther small bazi. Xiaobazi is also a terrace, and the water seal in winter is ready for the next spring ploughing. Without considering the cold, men jumped into rice fields one by one and fished them up like fish. The sound is here for a while and there for a while. It seems that there are countless windmills in the field, but only one is rotating at the same time-or, only one windmill is elusive and erratic. ...

People don't know where the sound came from that night or what it was. Some people say it's a bird. It flies fast and cries like a windmill. This can reasonably explain the rapid displacement of sound, but it can't explain why the sound comes from underground. And no one has ever seen a bird that can make a windmill sound, which is a bit absurd. Some people say it is a ghost. Only ghosts can move so fast and get into the ground. Someone nodded in agreement and proved that dogs barked one after another that night, and they chased something in groups in the field. As we all know, dogs are the only animals that can see ghosts.

The sound and image of the windmill that night was a signal, and the autumn of mankind followed. Soon after, the village began to die. In two or three years, seven or eight people died. Strangely, this mysterious voice sounded before everyone died. So that this kind of voice appeared again later, and people in the village were very worried. Everyone is thinking, who is it this time?

The first one to die was his wife who was covered with snow.

three

The mountains are full of snow, talented, poetic and painting, and more tasteful than Dongpo. In the 1950s, his father moved to our village, with no land and no house. My grandfather gave him his own land and drew a flat land as the foundation of the house. Therefore, the Shan people and my family are good friends and call each other brothers on an equal footing.

In the 1980s, my parents went into the mountains to pick fragrant leaves and accidentally fell off a cliff. Both of them died. There are no brothers or sisters in the snow. After my parents died, I learned to fish with my grandfather. In the next five years, I saw a young man on Huanglongxi, who cast a net with a pole. Others fish, only three are scattered. Whenever the mountain is covered with snow, they get off the boat and look down at the stream. Smell tea and explore flowers, and every time it is scattered, it will be full of fish. Everyone can learn, but they can't. So the mountains were covered with snow and gradually became famous. He can detect the details that ordinary people can't see, and he can tell what fish are under the water and how many fish are there only by the slight disturbance of ripples and the slight difference of water color. I love reading and I like ancient poetry best. Sometimes, I am seen sitting on a big stone in the shade of a tree. If I am addicted to reading, the boat will drift away before I know it. I like Su Shi best. He often sings to Jiangge alone: Go to river of no return and clean up the waves! Don't miss the old country for the old friend, try new tea with new fire. Poetry and wine use time. Who says there is no shortage of life, and the running water can still flow west in front of the door? Don't sing yellow chickens with white hair. Also, I hate this body. If I don't have it, when can I forget the camp? The night was calm and the lines were flat. Since then, this ship has passed away, and Jiang Hai spent the rest of his life.

At that time, a girl named Gu Fengrou punted at the ferry, and the two boats often passed by. This girl is also a scholar and loves Dongpo. The day before the Dragon Boat Festival, the girl sang "Ren Yanjiao" with the tune of folk songs. There is a saying: white hair and pale face are the realm of Vimo. Empty abbot, scattered flowers. Red lips are fuller and richer in color. These, thousands of lives only exist. There is snow all over the mountain, so I am ready to go home, smell it, and then take it: kind-hearted and caring. Under the idle window, gather clouds and wear them. Dragon Boat Festival in Ming Dynasty, waiting to learn to wear orchids. Find a good poem and ask for a book.

On both sides of the castle peak, a stream and two wooden boats sang melodiously and filled the valley.

A few years later, they got married. One day, Feng Rou read a book about a tree called buttonwood, whose branches and leaves are red like feathers. By the way, full of snow, plant a phoenix tree for me in the future! Mountain full of snow said, how about standing in front of the door? Circle a yard, plant bananas in the back and bamboo in the front. Behind the house, in front of the banana, another phoenix tree was erected. The wind laughs gently, just like you said! When the mountains are full of snow, you often go into the mountains. Every time I look for some exotic flowers and plants, I will plant them in front of the door. Cut bamboo from the bamboo forest and circle a yard. Soon after, the mysterious windmill sounded at night, and that year, his wife, who was covered with snow, went up the mountain to cut firewood and got lost and died.

After his wife died, the mountain was covered with snow and the house was closed. The only time I appeared in public was one day about fifteen or sixteen years later, when the night wind came again. Everyone was afraid of the sound, and the mountain was full of snow, so they found a flashlight. After coming back, it was even more silent.

That winter, the villagers were busy ordering wheat when they suddenly saw mountains and snow in their fields, carrying a white cloth bag in their left hand and broadcasting something in their right hand. My mother was planting wheat that day, and our two families were next to each other. She shouted that the mountain was full of snow, and he shouldn't have buried his head in the wheat. After sprinkling, I left without drinking water. In a short time, all the mountains were foggy green, and the wheat sprouted, shallow and faint. From a distance, there seems to be nothing green in the field. When my mother went to see the wheat in the field, she was surprised to find that the wheat in the snowy area next door had not moved, so she went to have a look. Open the snow, open the soil, red soil, lying seven or eight wheat, wheat swelling, like being soaked. Mother became suspicious, picked up a few intact wheat grains, pinched them on her fingers and broke them into a pool of mud. This wheat has been boiled. The mountains are full of snow, which is crazy. Rumors began to circulate in the village.

Five years later, mountains and snow once again appeared in the eyes of villagers and became the focus. He suddenly came to my house and asked my father if he knew the phoenix tree. My dad said he didn't know. He asked me where I could buy it. My dad said you should ask at the county greening station. After coming back from the greening station, he came to my house again. This time it is to borrow money. He said: "The phoenix tree is in distant Guangdong. I want to buy one. I have no money at present. Can I borrow some? " . Villagers are close neighbors. They lent him money one after another, and the patchwork was covered with snow, and they went south to Guangdong with tens of thousands of dollars. Half a month later, he brought back a strange tree. It is said that the mountains are full of water, and the road is tossed for five or six days. First, it was transported by truck to Chongqing in the north, then unloaded at the county pier and hired trucks to transport it up the mountain. The villagers gathered around and wanted to know what Phoenix Wood was. Open the adhesive tape on the car hopper, and a stout tree will be displayed. Its trunk is straight, smooth and reddish, a bit like acacia. Most of the branches were cut off, leaving only a few small emeralds hanging on the rock wall like Huangshan Song Qi. The leaves have faded, but they are still distinct, like the wings of a bird, but the feathers are not so plump, but a little sparse and more attractive. Some people say, Laoshan, has this tree blossomed? The snow is like a flower, open it, why not! "A tree is bright red, and the branches of the phoenix flower are the tallest." When the flowers bloom, they are like fire, which is very beautiful!

People say, where is the hoe? I'll help you plant it. The mountain is full of snow. Shake your head. Not for the time being

In the next few days, the mountains were covered with snow and there was no movement. Platanus acerifolia was placed in the middle of the yard, scorching in the hot sun, with chapped skin and withered leaves. On the third day, a fire broke out in the snowy yard. People thought there was a fire and ran into the yard, only to find a charred tree in the middle of the yard, still smoking. No one knows what medicine is sold in the snow gourd. I saw the snow-covered mountain, carrying a hoe and a steel drill to the back of the house, walking to his wife's grave, standing quietly for a while, waving a hoe. A few days later, the tree withered and the pit was dug. A pit five meters deep. The mountain was covered with snow, and the tree was taken to the grave. It fell headlong into the pit and was covered with mud. By the way, the sugarcane is still alive, and the electric pile is still outcropping. This is good for him. The good trees were burnt into firewood, and they were all buried without showing their heads.

It may be that some villagers with new technologies have not read any books and do not pay attention to scientific and technological progress. With smartphones, they are limited to Tik Tok. When the mountains are covered with snow, there is ink in their bellies. Maybe if they get the word, the dead tree can also give life. Next spring, everything will revive, thousands of warblers will sing green and reflect red, and people will stare at the snow trees. Spring is clear, apricots show their tender heads, green wheat rushes to golden color, and spring is almost over. The wife's grave is covered with snow, the grass grows a lot, and there are no saplings. One day, someone rushed into my yard and said that he had grown up! This ancient mountain is amazing. What a fucking dead tree. People turned around the grave and saw it like plums. Some brave people hold the sapling and gently pull it out, and the sapling is unearthed in the air, with a round plum stone under it.

four

On the day when the mountain was covered with snow (that is, the day when it was buried), my father sent me a photo, saying that it was found on the desk in a snow-covered house. Say that I have read a book, maybe I can understand its meaning. I click on the picture. On a piece of white paper, there are only three overlapping strokes, such as watercolor painting. The shade of ink is suitable, the outermost layer is light sky blue, the middle narrow bottom is light white, and the innermost layer is also light blue, but it is only a small touch, like a sideways bird, showing its other wing slightly. There are two lines below:

The earth has two sides, the middle of which is like gauze, sometimes overlapping.

Bury the living and grow up. Bury the dead and grow down.

This model is familiar. I sat by the window, wading through mountains and rivers in my mind, and finally remembered that distant morning, before the sunset recovered the last ray of light.

It is a bird. At that time, I was in the fourth grade, and autumn had passed. That morning, I came down from the mountain alone. Fog, lush grass, dewdrop white. Walking to the hillside behind the school, I looked down and saw that there was no one there. Usually at this time, the road is full of students carrying satchels. I suddenly began to doubt myself. Did I do something wrong? Today is the weekend? Not far away is the home of my classmate and good friend Xiao Zigui. I walked along the long path to his house. Not far away, I saw a golden wheat wave in the corner of my eye. There is a bamboo forest near the wheat field, and there is a blue and white ice cream bag at the top of the bamboo forest. I think it may be the wind. It was windy last night. I took a step by waving my legs and feet. Suddenly, there was a rustle at the top of the bamboo forest. A big bird with blue wings and a white belly rises in the air and flies to the north like three simple and solid pieces of paper. Fly to the iron cloud and suddenly disappear. Maybe it flew into the clouds.

Xiao Zigui came running to me with a red schoolbag on his back. The wheat in the field is gone, and the students on the road are in an endless stream. I asked Zigui, does your family grow wheat? He said, long time no see. I said, has this always been a vegetable field? He said, ah, what's the matter? But I heard my mother mention that this land used to be a noodle restaurant, well, ten years ago.

five

2021165438+1On October 23rd, the 29th International Congress of Ornithology was held in Guangzhou. I entered the venue as a volunteer and listened to the lecture for two days, which impressed me deeply. I searched Professor Su's information on the Internet. Su is an academician of China Academy of Sciences, a professor of ornithology at the Institute of Zoology, Chinese Academy of Sciences, and a student of Zhang Naiwen, an internationally renowned ornithologist (died in 1998). After the meeting, I waited for Professor Su at the gate to ask about the knowledge of blue-winged white-bellied birds. Professor Su has a white beard, a round face and eyes, a light brown fisherman's hat, a light brown jacket and mud hiking shoes. In a hurry. He said he had a plane to catch. I said, then add a WeChat. He smiled, his small round eyes kept turning and said, I don't have WeChat. I thought it was a refusal, but I didn't expect him to grab my pen and paper and write down the address. Put down the pen, he said, write! And then trotted away. Later, I checked online and found that Professor Su's famous old urchin really didn't have WeChat. It is said that the field trip is wilder than the young man.

I haven't written for more than ten years, but I didn't expect to write again. It's addressed to an old man, but not a love letter! Holding a pen, I feel a little strange and can't feel the right way. Write hard, print out photos, and send them by address. I kept an eye on it before posting it. My phone number is attached to the end of the stationery. A few days later, a landline number in Beijing called.

Oh, I'm freezing. It is best to be in Guangzhou. My old bones is almost frozen into ribs.

I paused and said, sorry, there are ribs at home and I don't want to buy them.

Professor Su laughed, you son of a bitch! He said, I believe I have read it. First, I have never seen or heard of this kind of bird. Second, I asked the insiders, I have never heard of or seen this kind of bird. Thirdly, there is no such bird in the Outline of China Bird Fauna. Fourth, there is no such bird in the world bird list. Are you sure you remember correctly?

I said, when I first saw something, I turned around and forgot it. I can't remember. After many years, I suddenly remembered it, but it looked very clear, just like in front of me.

He said, I have had your experience. First love. Hey hey. To be honest, when I saw the photos, I felt familiar with them. After thinking about it for several days, I remembered that I saw an article about this bird when I was sorting out the relics for my teacher Professor Zhang Naiwen. But I can't remember the content clearly. Rummaging through the study for several days, I finally dug up this article from a bundle of manuscript paper. Over the years, some of them are incomplete. I'll fax it to you.

Professor Zhang's experience is wonderful, which coincides with some of my strange experiences. To ensure the authenticity, I copied the original text below.

1985165438+1At the beginning of October, I heard that a group of "Bai Niao" came to Kunming, and I flew to Kunming to confirm that the "white waterfowl" in people's mouth was the red-billed gull from Siberia. Then, drive north and enter Mount Wumeng. It is said that the bird with red wings, yellow belly and feathers on its head has never been heard of before, but it happened to be observed.

10 On that day, when we entered Zhaotong, a majestic momentum suddenly rose in the vast land, like a knife inserted between heaven and earth, splitting the HarmonyOS system, and Wumeng was completely out of sight. The mountains are like the back of a black raccoon, empty and secluded, reaching the sky and pressing on the earth, dividing the world into mountains and mountains. Like I'm going to another space.

1 1, I saw a black-necked crane in Dashanbao. 13 entered the territory of Suijiang across the river from Sichuan. In the afternoon, go deep into the mountain village in the south of the county. It is late autumn, the plants are all yellow, oranges and grapefruit are covered with branches, and crystal persimmons are hanging high. Passing by a pond at night, I saw that the pond was full of green poplars. Poplar leaves fall in late autumn. Why is it still lush here? I suspect it is affected by the water source. Testing the water, Shui Han took the bait. Or maybe a microclimate. After the investigation around, I found that this is a windward slope, directly facing the cold north wind. It's not right either. Suddenly, a strange voice sounded, and the source was hard to distinguish. When the Cultural Revolution was scattered, I saw windmills in the countryside, which sounded like a god. Someone may be loading grain, I think, but the harvest season has passed. When I saw a piece of sky blue paper at the end of a tree near others, I felt very confused. Sometimes when the wind blows, the romantic tree shakes, and a piece of paper becomes three pieces of paper, blue, white and blue. Suddenly someone came under the tree. A big bird with blue wings and a white belly jumped into the air and flew away with the wind. Preliminary judgment, it is a night heron. But how can the night heron have short legs, small mouth and small shell, and be called by a learning car? The color of the big bird is pure, simple and clear, which is really unlike anything in the world.

An old man came with a scalper. I asked him what tree was in the pond and why it was so green. He looked at me curiously like a stranger and said, where is the tree? Aren't these all wooden stakes? When I saw it, it was all wooden stakes.

I contacted the local county animal protection institute and searched in the mountains for three days with equipment, but found nothing. Interviewing local experts and people, no one has seen this kind of bird. Something happened in the back office, so I hurried back to Beijing and never went back. Think of it as a regret in life.

A few years later, this experience still lingers in my mind. It suddenly occurred to me that when I was studying in Europe as a child, I turned to a science magazine in the library. The name is probably "Science Manuscript", and there is an article in it saying that it is not a space, but countless ones, which run counter to each other. ...

The manuscript is here, and then it is incomplete. It looks like a piece was caught in a book clip.

six

I went back to Yunnan on business on the 6th and took the opportunity to go home. Dad handed me a pile of manuscript paper and said it was covered with snow. There are no relatives in the snow-capped mountains, and we have to deal with relics after death. Dad knew that I liked snow-capped mountains since I was a child, so he left me his books and manuscript paper. I walked into the mountains with a thick stack of manuscript paper in my hand. It's all words of missing.

Winter is coming in the mountainous area, and the top of the mountain has been occupied by snow. Frost occupied the roof and leaves, and the cold filled the air. The old persimmon tree at the door is covered with red crystal persimmons, just like countless sunrises. Turn right when you leave the door, and then walk fifty steps. This is a cowshed. There is a vegetable field next to the cowshed. Cabbage is tender, peas are green and celery is tall and straight. There are no bamboo forests.

Go up after the cowshed 100 steps, and it is the cemetery of the couple with snow and mountains. The new is the old, the old grave is covered with hay, like a bald head, and the new grave grass is like youth. After the grave, banana patches, like a gust of wind, are fixed in green, and the bamboo in front of the grave is faint. Bananas and bamboos are planted by hand in the snow. Standing in front of the grave and looking at the mountains in the north, I remembered a sentence that appeared repeatedly on the manuscript paper: bamboo stands in front of the banana behind the house, and another phoenix tree stands.

After all, Gu Fengrou didn't see the phoenix flower planted for her by herself.

On the second day after returning to Guangzhou, Professor Su called and said that the incomplete manuscript had been found. The manuscript was faxed over soon. This is the missing part. The original text is as follows:

..... bifurcation, overlap, each space is an independent world, and interrelated, sometimes two time and space will partially overlap, at this time, you can see the scene of another world. A big bird with blue wings and a white belly accidentally broke into our space. Suddenly, it crossed the space and flew back. Like an egret crossing the clouds on the horizon. Clouds are a section of our space, and occasionally drift into another space. In other words, the cloud is a section of another space and accidentally entered our space. The earth has two sides, the dead are buried, they grow downward, and flowers bloom in another space. ...

On the weekend, my father called and said that it was really cold and snowy this winter. I get up in the morning and open the door. It is snowing all over the mountain. I said, this year is La Nina year, it's cold in winter, so put on more clothes. He said, speaking of snow, I'll tell you something. The phoenix tree buried in the snow was planed flat.