Along with the military outpost, there was also bad news.
There are more people under the water than above the water.
The only ones left came with what remains they could find.
The crying in the yard was louder than the sound of rain, and silence became synonymous with Lu Xuyuan.
The young man seemed to be just like the last time Lu Xuyuan saw him, wet, pale and silent.
The mourning hall was decorated, and the young man was lying there. There was only an old man in the yard, with his body bent.
Lu Xuyuan was rushed to take care of the girl.
Ever since she fainted and woke up that day, the girl has been in a daze. The road is still blocked, and the road the People's Liberation Army came from has slipped again.
The goddess at the foot of the mountain said that the girl had lost her soul.
Children cannot go to a home where someone has died, especially if they are close.
Because they are reluctant to part with them, the deceased will take them away.
Lu Xuyuan didn't believe it, but he was stunned for too long, and his aunt quickly asked him to take the girl back home.
The last instruction in the boy's diary is to take good care of his sister.
So Lu Xuyuan stopped resisting and stayed with the girl in a daze. Unknowingly, his clothes were wet with tears.
The sounds next door never stopped, and wild cats that had not been seen for a long time crossed the roof under the heavy rain.
"Get out of here!"
The old man's hoarse shout came from the empty house.
Night after night, there were no guests, and the ever-burning lamp illuminated the gloomy mourning hall.
The sound of "evil" came from the halls of various mountain villages, and the pain resounded throughout the sky.
The girl looked out the window. Dots of firelight dotted the entire mountain, and the cool wind passed through every corner of the mountain.
During the day, people came and went in the hall, and no one stayed too much. Everyone walked in a hurry, with blistered feet and muddy shoes, running in various open courtyards.
The shroud was freshly cut, and the village elders, carpenters, and tailors brought out all the suitable coffins and fabrics.
Aunt Song put the clothes on him, just like they were when he was born.
She still remembered how she swaddled the little thing struggling in her arms.
Now it was her turn to put the boy's shroud on.
Put the boy's already cold hands through the silk clothes, cotton clothes, and coats.
I counted the threads that tied my waist, one, two...
A reminder from the helper came from the side: "Don't count wrongly."
How could the number be wrong?Aunt Song wiped her already red and swollen eyes, one year old, two years old...
I counted it once and twice, but each time it was different, I saw double images of lines in front of me, bits and pieces of the boy, but I always counted the fourteen lines incorrectly.
Several people came in and out of the boy's room and brought out a lot of clothes.
"For the cotton, remove the metal buttons and plastic zippers!"
With trembling hands, he tied the thread around the boy's waist.
The old man stood at the door looking haggard.
Aunt Song sorted out the treated clothes.
This was a first-year gift given to the boy on his first birthday. It was from Buna that every family came to visit, and it came with a small bag of Baijiami.
This red dress was a new one for the New Year. It was a rare occasion when his father came home and bought him a new dress. He wore this dress to pay New Year greetings and have a snowball fight with his grandson in the snow.
This piece of clothing with a patch is the same as Xiaoxiao's New Year's clothing, and there are holes in it that were burned when Xiaoxiao set off fireworks. The clothes were damaged before the New Year was over, and she almost got scolded.
……
This tattered piece of clothing was the last piece of clothing the boy brought with him, and he had no chance to change into it.
Dawn was approaching, the clothes she had put away were folded neatly, and her trembling hands steadily put them into the coffin one by one, stuffing them firmly and tightly.
This way you don't have to worry about bumps.
Don't worry that he has nothing to wear.
Its daybreak.There are too few people who can host it, although everyone tries to stagger the time.
The sound of clinking utensils and chanting finally sounded from next door today.
The tinkling sounds were mixed with voices that were still mute, telling the boy's life and praying for his peace.
The boy had been familiar with the dialect for 13 years and sang his funeral song with a unique accent.
In the afternoon, Aunt Song came into the house. The girl sat motionless on the edge of the bed with her red eyes open.
Picking up the hay rope in her hand, Aunt Song suppressed her tears, patted the girl's back, raised her arm, and tightened the hemp rope tied two days ago.
If you can still use it, keep using it. Even the maso is not enough in these two days.
"Brother, brother."
The girl's faint voice came from the bed.
Aunt Song was about to burst into tears when her nose was sore, so she had to hold the girl tightly in her arms, wiped her tears, and said in a weird voice: "Brother has gone to a very far away place, Yaoyao, Yaoyao is long You’ll know when you get older.”
The girl's dull eyes looked at Lu Xuyuan who was standing at the door.
Lu Xuyuan could only turn his head to avoid her gaze.
Many people came next door and knelt down in front of the soul one by one in order.
The girl couldn't go, so Aunt Song asked Lu Xu to keep an eye on the girl from afar and not let her pass.
One or two wreaths were placed in front of the tomb, which were colorful and colorful, but the materials were not very solid. They were made by someone who knew how to make them with the few materials they had.
Yellow paper for the New Year and festivals was sent to courtyards one after another, smeared with knives.
In front of the brazier were faces that were almost numb from crying. The firelight reflected a bit more blood on the pale faces, and under the eyes were translucent eye bubbles.
It was obvious that I couldn't cry anymore, but my eyes were still wet.
The Taoist priest recited the relationship between the kneeling man and the boy, praying for the boy's stability in the next life. Wisps of blue smoke broke through the oppressive clouds, and pieces of yellow paper flew, filled with the sorrow of the living.
This is the last night.
There were people kneeling, crying, and coming and going in front of the spirit.
"Why did you just leave! We agreed that we would go swimming together when we came back this time."
"You said you would take me to play when you came back from summer vacation."
"You promised to give me that set of cards after graduation."
"Your secret weapon is still at my house."
Children may not yet know what death is, but at this moment they already know farewell.
Lu Xuyuan asked Aunt Song to take care of her for a while when she came over, and then went to the coffin.
Looking at the dark coffin, there are people inside who will never get up again.
"Lu Xuyuan, help me take care of the little tow oil bottle!"
"Lu Xuyuan, I let the follower live in your house!"
"It's a long way to go, do you want to go swimming? Don't bring any followers!"
"Lu Xuyuan, please keep your voice down, don't disturb my fish."
"Brother Yuan, for the last time, for the last time, help me keep an eye on the oil bottle."
"You always say it's the last time."
"For the last time, the hornet's nest Goudan and the others found was really big! I'll bring you roasted bee pupae! It's agreed!"
"Lu Xuyuan, take care of your followers, please."
Lu Xuyuan knelt in front of the soul, burned three pieces of yellow paper in the brazier, and heard his hoarse voice.
"it is good."
After kneeling in silence for a long time, he lifted his leg that was numb from pain. Lu Xuyuan walked back to his room step by step and looked at the girl with empty eyes on the bed.
He didn't know if the girl understood death.
Even adults think they don’t understand.
But she was mostly in pain.
There are more people under the water than above the water.
The only ones left came with what remains they could find.
The crying in the yard was louder than the sound of rain, and silence became synonymous with Lu Xuyuan.
The young man seemed to be just like the last time Lu Xuyuan saw him, wet, pale and silent.
The mourning hall was decorated, and the young man was lying there. There was only an old man in the yard, with his body bent.
Lu Xuyuan was rushed to take care of the girl.
Ever since she fainted and woke up that day, the girl has been in a daze. The road is still blocked, and the road the People's Liberation Army came from has slipped again.
The goddess at the foot of the mountain said that the girl had lost her soul.
Children cannot go to a home where someone has died, especially if they are close.
Because they are reluctant to part with them, the deceased will take them away.
Lu Xuyuan didn't believe it, but he was stunned for too long, and his aunt quickly asked him to take the girl back home.
The last instruction in the boy's diary is to take good care of his sister.
So Lu Xuyuan stopped resisting and stayed with the girl in a daze. Unknowingly, his clothes were wet with tears.
The sounds next door never stopped, and wild cats that had not been seen for a long time crossed the roof under the heavy rain.
"Get out of here!"
The old man's hoarse shout came from the empty house.
Night after night, there were no guests, and the ever-burning lamp illuminated the gloomy mourning hall.
The sound of "evil" came from the halls of various mountain villages, and the pain resounded throughout the sky.
The girl looked out the window. Dots of firelight dotted the entire mountain, and the cool wind passed through every corner of the mountain.
During the day, people came and went in the hall, and no one stayed too much. Everyone walked in a hurry, with blistered feet and muddy shoes, running in various open courtyards.
The shroud was freshly cut, and the village elders, carpenters, and tailors brought out all the suitable coffins and fabrics.
Aunt Song put the clothes on him, just like they were when he was born.
She still remembered how she swaddled the little thing struggling in her arms.
Now it was her turn to put the boy's shroud on.
Put the boy's already cold hands through the silk clothes, cotton clothes, and coats.
I counted the threads that tied my waist, one, two...
A reminder from the helper came from the side: "Don't count wrongly."
How could the number be wrong?Aunt Song wiped her already red and swollen eyes, one year old, two years old...
I counted it once and twice, but each time it was different, I saw double images of lines in front of me, bits and pieces of the boy, but I always counted the fourteen lines incorrectly.
Several people came in and out of the boy's room and brought out a lot of clothes.
"For the cotton, remove the metal buttons and plastic zippers!"
With trembling hands, he tied the thread around the boy's waist.
The old man stood at the door looking haggard.
Aunt Song sorted out the treated clothes.
This was a first-year gift given to the boy on his first birthday. It was from Buna that every family came to visit, and it came with a small bag of Baijiami.
This red dress was a new one for the New Year. It was a rare occasion when his father came home and bought him a new dress. He wore this dress to pay New Year greetings and have a snowball fight with his grandson in the snow.
This piece of clothing with a patch is the same as Xiaoxiao's New Year's clothing, and there are holes in it that were burned when Xiaoxiao set off fireworks. The clothes were damaged before the New Year was over, and she almost got scolded.
……
This tattered piece of clothing was the last piece of clothing the boy brought with him, and he had no chance to change into it.
Dawn was approaching, the clothes she had put away were folded neatly, and her trembling hands steadily put them into the coffin one by one, stuffing them firmly and tightly.
This way you don't have to worry about bumps.
Don't worry that he has nothing to wear.
Its daybreak.There are too few people who can host it, although everyone tries to stagger the time.
The sound of clinking utensils and chanting finally sounded from next door today.
The tinkling sounds were mixed with voices that were still mute, telling the boy's life and praying for his peace.
The boy had been familiar with the dialect for 13 years and sang his funeral song with a unique accent.
In the afternoon, Aunt Song came into the house. The girl sat motionless on the edge of the bed with her red eyes open.
Picking up the hay rope in her hand, Aunt Song suppressed her tears, patted the girl's back, raised her arm, and tightened the hemp rope tied two days ago.
If you can still use it, keep using it. Even the maso is not enough in these two days.
"Brother, brother."
The girl's faint voice came from the bed.
Aunt Song was about to burst into tears when her nose was sore, so she had to hold the girl tightly in her arms, wiped her tears, and said in a weird voice: "Brother has gone to a very far away place, Yaoyao, Yaoyao is long You’ll know when you get older.”
The girl's dull eyes looked at Lu Xuyuan who was standing at the door.
Lu Xuyuan could only turn his head to avoid her gaze.
Many people came next door and knelt down in front of the soul one by one in order.
The girl couldn't go, so Aunt Song asked Lu Xu to keep an eye on the girl from afar and not let her pass.
One or two wreaths were placed in front of the tomb, which were colorful and colorful, but the materials were not very solid. They were made by someone who knew how to make them with the few materials they had.
Yellow paper for the New Year and festivals was sent to courtyards one after another, smeared with knives.
In front of the brazier were faces that were almost numb from crying. The firelight reflected a bit more blood on the pale faces, and under the eyes were translucent eye bubbles.
It was obvious that I couldn't cry anymore, but my eyes were still wet.
The Taoist priest recited the relationship between the kneeling man and the boy, praying for the boy's stability in the next life. Wisps of blue smoke broke through the oppressive clouds, and pieces of yellow paper flew, filled with the sorrow of the living.
This is the last night.
There were people kneeling, crying, and coming and going in front of the spirit.
"Why did you just leave! We agreed that we would go swimming together when we came back this time."
"You said you would take me to play when you came back from summer vacation."
"You promised to give me that set of cards after graduation."
"Your secret weapon is still at my house."
Children may not yet know what death is, but at this moment they already know farewell.
Lu Xuyuan asked Aunt Song to take care of her for a while when she came over, and then went to the coffin.
Looking at the dark coffin, there are people inside who will never get up again.
"Lu Xuyuan, help me take care of the little tow oil bottle!"
"Lu Xuyuan, I let the follower live in your house!"
"It's a long way to go, do you want to go swimming? Don't bring any followers!"
"Lu Xuyuan, please keep your voice down, don't disturb my fish."
"Brother Yuan, for the last time, for the last time, help me keep an eye on the oil bottle."
"You always say it's the last time."
"For the last time, the hornet's nest Goudan and the others found was really big! I'll bring you roasted bee pupae! It's agreed!"
"Lu Xuyuan, take care of your followers, please."
Lu Xuyuan knelt in front of the soul, burned three pieces of yellow paper in the brazier, and heard his hoarse voice.
"it is good."
After kneeling in silence for a long time, he lifted his leg that was numb from pain. Lu Xuyuan walked back to his room step by step and looked at the girl with empty eyes on the bed.
He didn't know if the girl understood death.
Even adults think they don’t understand.
But she was mostly in pain.
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