Ghost Blowing Lamp II

Chapter 23 Karen Left Banner Under the Night

Following the finger of the herdsman "Lao Yangpi", I involuntarily looked up at the sky. The thick clouds piled up from the top of my head to the horizon. His last words echoed repeatedly in my heart, that "dragon" was in the sky.

After saying this, "Lao Yangpi" didn't continue to say anything, and went to the side to slaughter the sheep. I looked at the sky for a long time, and I was still skeptical about his words. I got busy, and everyone was helping to prepare for the evening banquet, so I couldn't ask any more questions, so I turned around and went back to the team of educated youths.

There are many taboos about slaughtering animals in pastoral areas. For example, after killing animals, you must never say "it's a pity" or "it's better not to kill", because once such words are said, the soul of the animal will stay and cause trouble. Cattle or horses that ride, livestock that have helped their masters, female livestock that have given birth to more milk, etc. cannot be killed, because educated youths are all from outside, and herdsmen are rarely willing to let these people help slaughter animals, and skinning and cooking should be done as much as possible. Do not let the educated youth come near.

So we educated youths had nothing to do after the cattle and horses returned to the stables. We could only wait for dinner. At last night fell, the sky was like a dome, covering the whole field, and a fire was lit in front of the shepherd's tent on the grassland. They brought up a large plate of Mongolian-style food one after another, and opened a whole sheep mat, with blood sausage, sheep tripe and the like, which we had never eaten before, and smelled the unique flavor of dairy products in the night sky. The sweet smell made me swallow my saliva non-stop.

The fat man and I didn’t eat at noon. After seeing so many delicious foods, we couldn’t help but move our index fingers. Just as the fat man was about to reach out, he wanted to grab a piece of meat and eat the meat, but the “Lao Yangpi” knocked his hand with a cigarette pot After returning home, it turned out that the cadres who came from afar had to be invited to say a few words to everyone.

When he spoke, it was nothing more than repeating the old tunes that are popular in rallies nowadays. The cadre surnamed Ni was in his thirties, with deep myopia glasses on his thin face and a one-sided cadre style. He is not a leading cadre at all, but a civil servant. He was sent by his superiors to write a report on the exemplary deeds of the pastoral area. He did not expect to receive such a high courtesy on the grassland. The herdsmen have never seen any leaders. " shouted, really flattered, and insisted that everyone call him "Old Ni".

The Mongolian people are big in the west and respect their elders. Old Ni was invited to sit in the most honorable seat in the west. An elderly herdsman held a horn cup and sang a few toast songs first. Ding Sitian lived on the grassland for half a year Many, I have already learned a little Mongolian, translated it for me, and sang: Wine is the crystallization of five grains. The wine offered by Mongolians to guests represents welcome and respect...

The fat man and I have no interest in the content of the toast song. We stared eagerly at the roasted leg of lamb, hoping that the old man would finish singing quickly, and when Old Ni said a few more nonsense to deal with the scene, we could Let's eat.

According to the local customs, Lao Ni dipped his ring finger in the wine, flicked it to the sky, the earth, and the fire, and then dipped some wine with his lips. Then he began to speak, first read a few words of the highest instruction, and then praised a few words The situation in the pastoral area is very good. Finally, I haven’t forgotten to mention the educated youth here. I said that the educated youth have been trained a lot in the grassland. While supporting agriculture, animal husbandry, grasping the revolution and promoting production, they must also strengthen political studies and hold regular life reviews. meeting, reporting ideas in a timely manner, conducting criticism and self-criticism in a timely manner...

Old Ni talked like a cart wheel for twenty to ten minutes, maybe even he himself felt hungry, so he waved his hand and asked everyone to eat. Mongolians drink wine like cold water, and they all eat With a big bowl, those with a small capacity for alcohol can be frightened by this situation. At this time, the herdsmen have to toast the chief. Carried into the tent.

There are not many people among the educated youths, and they dare not drink bowl after bowl with those herdsmen, so they simply grab some food, light a bunch of smaller fires, and eat on the side, the herdsmen know that they are from the inland The young people have a small amount of food, and no one chases us to fight wine. They are also happy without outsiders' interference. The shepherd likes to sing when he drinks too much. It's as sad as a complaint, but it's also extraordinarily desolate and powerful, with a powerful tone that moves the sky.

Eleven of us educated youths sat around another pile of fire, experiencing the grassland life where the fire warmed our chests and the wind blew cold behind us. We were fascinated by listening to the matouqin. I wanted to go over there and see who played the matouqin. Ding Sitian said: "You don't need to look at it to know. It must be the sound of Lao Yangpi's grandpa. Although he is an outsider from the Northwest, not only is he good at singing Qin Opera and Xintianyou, he has lived on the grassland for decades. Playing the matouqin is also very charming, I think Tengger must have given the most beautiful tone of the Klin Zuoqi grassland to Lao Yangpi's grandpa." After she finished speaking, she stood up and danced to the sound of the matouqin performed a solo dance.

Ding Sitian used to be the backbone of literature and art. She danced and sang well. She always wanted to join the army's art troupe, but because her family had overseas connections, she couldn't do so. She knew the Mongolian dance on the grassland as soon as she learned it. , the Mongolian dance is beautiful in shape and slow in rhythm. It mostly praises the vast beauty of the grassland with body language, and expresses the posture of flying eagles and galloping horses.

We watched Ding Sitian's dance so fascinated that we completely forgot where we were, until the sound of the piano stopped, we were still immersed in it, and we didn't even remember to applaud.As the saying goes: "Everything is worse than having a cup in hand, and seeing the moon in your life." On the grassland, the sky is high and the moon is shining. In front of the blazing fire, everyone sings and dances, drinking and chatting. There may not be many such opportunities in a lifetime. The districts, who seldom meet each other, cherished this gathering very much, and performed programs one after another, either singing or dancing.

In the end, Ding Sitian pulled the fat man and me up from the ground, and said to everyone: "Let's all welcome Bayi and Kaixuan from Xing'an League." Several educated youths sitting there applauded, me and The fat man glanced at each other. It was a bit difficult. There seemed to be a great dancer at the place where we jumped in line, but there was no such dancer on the grassland.

(End of this chapter)