The dust settles

Chapter 2

The fire was quickly lit.Everyone plucks those thrushes.Solan Zelang plucked the thrush's hairs without first killing them. The live birds squeaked and screamed under his hands, making people's skin crawl, but he acted nonchalantly.Fortunately, the reassuring smell of bird meat soon wafted from the fire.After a while, three or five thrushes, wild thrushes, were filled in each person's stomach.

2. "Jurisdiction Day"

At this time, Mrs. Toast went upstairs and downstairs to ask someone to look for me.

If my father was at home, he would never stop my kind of games.But in the past few days, my mother presided over some affairs at home, so the situation was somewhat different; finally, the servants found me in the orchard.At this time, the sun was rising into the sky, and the snow was shining so brightly that people could not open their eyes.My hands were bloody, and I was gnawing on the tiny bones of the birds.I returned to the stockade among a group of house slave children with bloody hands and faces, and the guard dogs barked at us as they smelled fresh blood.Entering the gate, looking up, I saw my mother standing upstairs with a stern face looking down.Those little house slaves trembled under her gaze.

I was led upstairs to dry my wet clothes by the brazier.

There was the sound of whips flying in the courtyard.The sound is a bit like an eagle flying through the air.At this moment, I thought, I hated my mother, and hated Mrs. McGee Toast.And she held her face and cheeks like a toothache and said: "You don't have cheap bones growing on your body."

Bone is a very important word here, and another word that is synonymous with it is root.

Genzi is a short word: "Ni."

Bones is a proud word: "Jurisdiction."

The world is water, fire, wind, and space.The constitution of a crowd is the bones, or roots.

Listening to my mother talking, feeling the warmth of the newly changed clothes, I also thought about the bone problem, but I couldn't think of anything in the end, but I heard the thrush wanting to spread its wings in my stomach, and I heard the whip falling on my future mother. On the animals, my youthful tears flowed down.Mrs. Tusi thought my son had regretted it, so she patted my head and said, "Son, you have to remember that you can ride them like horses and beat them like dogs, but you can't treat them like human beings."

She thinks she's very smart, but I think smart people can be stupid too.Although I am a fool, I am also beyond the reach of others.So with tears still hanging on my face, I couldn't help laughing.

I heard the housekeeper, nurse, and maid all asking, what's wrong with the young master?
But I didn't see them.I think I closed my eyes.But in fact my eyes were open, so I yelled, "My eyes are gone!"

Meaning, I can't see anything.

The chieftain's son's eyes were red and swollen, and a little light made him feel pain like a steel needle.

Lama Monba, who specializes in medicine, said he was stabbed by Xueguang.He burned cypress branches and some herbs, and smoked me with choking smoke, making people think he was avenging those thrushes.The lama invited the statue of Medicine King Bodhisattva to hang in front of the bed.After a while, I was quiet after shouting.

When he woke up, Lama Menpa fetched a bowl of clean water.After closing the window, he told me to open my eyes and see what was in the bowl.

I saw lights like stars in the night sky.The light is emanating from the bubbles rising from the water.If you look again, you can see some plump wheat grains lying under the bowl.The wheat spit out sparkling blisters one after another from the mouth of the bud.

After watching for a while, I felt that my eyes were much cooler.

Lama Monba kowtowed to thank Medicine King Bodhisattva, packed up a set of props and went back to the scripture hall to pray for me.

I took a nap for a while, and was woken up again by the sound of kowtow at the door.On the other hand, Suolang Zelang's mother knelt in front of his wife and begged to release her miserable son.My mother asked me, "Did you see it?"

"Saw."

"Did you really see it?"

"I really saw it."

After getting an affirmative answer, Mrs. Tusi said: "Put down the hanging little bastard and give him twenty leather whips!" One mother thanked the other mother and went downstairs;
Her weeping sound made one suspect that it was summer, and swarms of bees were circling among the flowers.

Ah, let's talk about our bones while I can't walk around.

Where our Sharia is, bones are called caste.Sakyamuni was born in a noble caste.There is India - the land of white clothes.But in the place where our power resides, China - the country in black, bones are regarded as something related to the threshold.The exact word, which is not easy to translate, probably refers to whether the door is opened at a high place or a low place.If this is the case, the door of the chieftain's house should be opened at a very high place.My mother was a poor woman.After she arrived at Maggie's house, she cared about these things very much.She always wanted to stuff the foolish son's head with a lot of these things.

I asked her: "The door is so high, can we go in and out of the clouds? She had to smile bitterly."

"Then we are not chieftains but gods."

Her foolish son told her so.She smiled wryly in disappointment, and made me feel guilty that she hated iron and steel.

Maiqi chieftain's official village is indeed very high.Seven floors plus the roof, plus a dungeon is twenty feet high.There are many rooms and many doors connected by stairs and corridors, as complicated as the world and people's hearts.Guanzhai occupies a beautiful place, at the top of a dragon vein at the confluence of two small rivers, overlooking dozens of stone villages on the river beach below.

The people living in the village are called "Keba".These dozens of households are a kind of bone, a kind of "jurisdiction day".In addition to farming, I also listen to the call of the chieftain at any time to do various odd jobs in the official village. I work as a messenger in more than 360 villages and more than 410 households in the land of 300 miles from east to west and 2000 miles from north to south.The proverb of the Kobas says:

Burning butt is the chicken feather on the toast letter.As soon as the gong calling for the delivery in the official village sounds, even if your mother is dying, you have to go on the road immediately.

Looking along the valley, you can see villages one after another among those valleys and mountains. They rely on farming and animal husbandry for their livelihood.Each village has a headman of a different level.The chieftains govern the village, and our chieftain family controls the chieftains.Those who are controlled by the leaders are called the common people.This is a class with a large number of people.This is another kind of bone man.It is possible for a man of this class to rise, to make his bones heavy with the blood of the nobility.But the greater possibility is to fall, and once fallen, it will be difficult to turn over.Because the chieftain likes more free people to become domestic slaves without freedom.Household slaves are livestock and can be bought and sold at will.Moreover, it is very simple to make free people continue to become slaves, as long as some rules are established for the mistakes that humans are prone to make.This is more certain than the traps set by experienced hunters.

Solang Zelang's mother was like this.

She was originally the daughter of a common people, so she is very naturally a common people.As a commoner, the chieftain can only ask for tribute to her through the headman.As a result, she had a child with a man without waiting for marriage, thus violating the law on illegitimate children and making herself and her son a house slave without freedom.

Later, someone who wrote a book said that the chieftains had no laws.Yes, we don't write all this on paper, but it is a rule, and it is unforgettable without writing.And it is more effective than many things written on paper today.I asked: Isn't that so?
A very affirmative voice came from a place far away in time, rumbled, yes, yes.

All in all, the rules we set up in that era were to bring people down rather than up.Men with heavy bones and nobility are artists who make such norms.

Bones separate people from superior to inferior.

toast.

Below the toast is the headman.

The leader manages the people.

Then came Koba (a messenger rather than a messenger), and then the house slaves.In addition to this, there is another category of people whose status can change at any time.They are monks, craftsmen, wizards, rappers.For this kind of people, the chieftain should be more indulgent to them, as long as they don't make the chieftain feel that he doesn't know what to do with them.

A lama once said to me: The Tibetans living in the fence of the snow-capped mountains are like silent Han people when they face crimes without distinction; but when there is no joy to speak of, they seem so happy and like Indians.

China, in our language is called "Gana".It means the country in black.

India, called "Jag".It means the state of white clothes.

That lama was later punished by chief magi for always thinking about issues that no one else wanted to delve into.He died after having his tongue cut out and suffering the pain of being unable to speak.Here's what I think about this issue: Before Sakyamuni, it was the era of prophets, after that, we no longer need to use our own brains to think.If you feel that you are an outstanding person, but not born as a nobleman, then be a lama and describe the picture of the afterlife for people; if you feel that you have to say something about the present and about life, then hurry up.Otherwise, when there is no tongue, nothing can be said.

Don't you see, those tongues that want to say something have rotted away.

People do sometimes want to say something, but these people don't say anything until they are dying.Good end-of-life languages ​​include:
—Give me a sip of mead.

—Please put a small piece of jade in my mouth.

—It's almost dawn.

—I can't find my feet.

—My God, my God.

—Ghost, ghost!

Etc., etc.

3. Sanji Dolma
My memory begins on that snowy morning, the morning when I was 13 years old.

The first snow in spring made me snow blind.

The sound of servants whipping Solang Zelang made my red and swollen eyes feel cool.

The mother told the nanny: "Take good care of the young master."

As soon as the wife left, the beautiful maid Dolma also followed.I threw off the towel from my eyes and shouted loudly, "I want Dolma!"

I didn't ask my mother to accompany me, but she said: "Okay, we won't go, let's stay here with you." But how can my little head take care of so many things.

He just held onto Dolma's gentle hand tightly, and soon fell asleep.

It was night when I woke up again.

From the bridge below the stockade came the desolate voice of a woman shouting.

Somebody's child has lost his soul in a place haunted by ghosts, and the mother is calling him home.And I said to the maid lying on the head of the bed: "Dolma, I want you, Dolma."

Dolma laughed foolishly.

She pinched me again and slid naked under my quilt.There is a song that goes like this:
Sinful girl, it's like water flowing into my arms.

What kind of fish in the water, swimming into people's dreams.

Don't disturb them, sinful monk and beautiful girl!

In the myth of the origin of our world, a man of gods who dwells somewhere does not know: "Ha!" Immediately there was void.The man of God said to the void again: "Ha!" Then there was water, fire and dust.Besides, the magical "ha" wind blows the world and spins in the void.That day, I held up Dolma's breasts in the dark and exclaimed in great surprise: "Ha!"

Dolma's mouth was vague.She said, "Um...Pipape..."

A world of water and fire, a world of light and dust spins rapidly.This year, I am thirteen and Dolma is eighteen.

Sangji Dolma hugged me on top of her body.

Something was burning inside me at 13.

She said, "Go in, go in." It was as if there was a door somewhere in her body.And I do have a strong desire to get into something.

"You fool, fool," she said, and she took my hand there and told me to go in.

The 13-year-old me, with a yell, exploded.

This world will be gone at once.

In the morning, my eyes, which had improved, were swollen and closed again.Dolma blushed and said something into her mother's ear. Mrs. Tusi glanced at her son and couldn't help laughing. At the same time, she slapped the beautiful maid.

Lama Monpa is here again.

The mother said: "The master is coming back soon, let's see how you treat the young master's eyes."

The lama said: "The young master saw something unclean, right?"

Mrs. Toast said, "Is it a ghost?

I see, there are still ghosts that you haven't suppressed. "

The lama shook his head: "There is a dog down there that has given birth, did the young master go to see it?"

So, my eyes were once again smoked by cypress.The lama gave me another dose of herbal powder.After a while I felt like peeing.The lama said it would be a little painful.Sure enough, I was given a comfortable place at night. At this time, the pain was like needle pricks.

The lama said: "That's right, I can't be mistaken, the young master is already an adult."

When it was just me and the nanny in the room, she asked, "What did that little fairy do to you?"

I covered my swollen eyes and laughed.

The nanny was heartbroken: "Fool, I expected you to grow up and I wouldn't be offended, but you made a little fairy to ride on my head." She threw the tongs on the copper brazier and crackled.I ignored her, thinking to myself, how good it is to be the son of the chieftain, as long as I say "ha" like a god, the world will spin up.Lama's laxatives made my bowels sing.

The nanny said to the lama in a singing voice, "What did you do to our young master's stomach?"

The lama gave her a stern look and walked away.I wanted to laugh, and when I laughed, thin shit sprayed out from below.This morning, I couldn't even get up on the potty.My mother wanted to ask the lama to question her, but he went out to see a doctor.We take care of his food and lodging, but he still likes to go out and find some loose silver.In the afternoon, my eyes and stomach were healed.People once again praised his craftsmanship.

It is a sunny afternoon.The sound of horseshoes blowing like a string of wind immediately lifted people's spirits.A ray of sunlight has also become a taut bowstring.

Maiqi Tusi who sued in the upper province, my father came back from Han.They pitched a tent for the night more than a dozen miles away, and sent a fast horse to report the news: the chieftain has invited high officials from the military government, and they will greet them with big gifts tomorrow.

After a while, several fast horses left the official village and rushed to the nearby villages.My mother and I stood on the platform of the arcade, looking at those fast horses sweeping up dust on the field in late autumn.The arcade is three stories high, just above the gate facing southeast, towards the open valley.The other three sides of the village are seven-story buildings, and the back is connected with the whole village. It is a bunker, facing a road obliquely descending from the mountain pass in the northwest direction behind the village.Spring was indeed coming, and the tamped mud roofs of the platforms were softening.The lower three floors, the top one is where the servants live, and it can also deal with frontal attacks.The next two floors are the houses of the slaves.The valley gradually opens towards the southeast.Tomorrow, father and elder brother will return from that direction.The scenery I saw this day was the same as usual. Behind me, the mountains began to rise gradually, which was where the sun set.A river rushes from the mountain, and the river flows eastward, and the valley becomes wider and wider during this rush.There is a proverb that says: The emperor of the Han nationality is under the morning sun, and the Dalai Lama is under the afternoon sun.

We were a little to the east under the noon sun.This position is decisive.It dictates that we have more contact with the Han emperors to the east than with our own religious leader, the Dalai Lama.Geography determines our political relationships.

You see, we have existed for so long because we have a correct judgment of our place.However, chieftain Wangbo, who was wholeheartedly against us, only went to Lhasa to pay pilgrimage to the Buddha. The wise men under him said that he should also go to the place where the Han people lived.But he asked, Wang Bo University or China University?
And he forgot that his chieftain's seal was also obtained by his ancestors from Beijing.There are indeed books that say that we black-headed Tibetans descended from the sky along a woolen rope and came to this noble and magnificent land.Well, Chieftain Wangbo certainly has reason to believe that since people can fall from the sky, then seals, silver, swords and guns may also fall from the sky with a blue lightning.

My mother said to me: "The Wangbo chieftains are here, and we will pick them up tomorrow. They are from my hometown. My God, can I speak Chinese when I see them?"
God, God.Son, listen to me and see if I'm right. "

I patted my forehead; thinking, my God, how would I know if you speak Chinese or not.

But she had already started talking there on her own.After talking for a while, she happily said: "Miss Guanshiyin, I haven't forgotten, I haven't forgotten." Then, her tears flowed down.That day, she held my head tightly again and kept shaking and said, "I want to teach you Chinese, my God, I'm so old, why can't I think of teaching you Chinese."

But I'm not particularly interested in all this.Once again I disappointed her when she was in high spirits.I said stupidly: "Look, the lama's yellow umbrella is coming."

There are two batches of monks in our family.One group is in the scripture hall in Guanzhai, and the other is in the nearby Minzhuning Temple.Now, the Living Buddha Jiga in the temple came here in a hurry after receiving the news that there will be a large-scale ceremony tomorrow.The temple is on the other side of the river.They came to the wooden bridge.At this time, a sudden whirlwind blew the yellow umbrella over, and the little monk holding the umbrella was dragged into the river.When the little monk got up from the water and stood on the bridge dripping wet, Mrs. Toast giggled.Listen, how young her laugh is.

When they began to climb the long stone steps in front of the official village, the mother suddenly ordered the gate to be closed.

Recently, the relationship between the monastery and the chieftain has not been very harmonious.

The reason is that after my grandfather passed away, Living Buddha Jiga got a headache and said that only my uncle is suitable to inherit the position of chieftain.Later, it was my father, not my uncle, who made Mai Qi Toast.In this way, the monastery will naturally be very lonely.My father succeeded to the throne as the chieftain according to the normal order, and after that, he expanded the scripture hall at home.Invite well-known monks from other places, and don't pay attention to monasteries that don't keep their duties.

(End of this chapter)