Bébé de papier

Chapitre 3

"Thump-thump! Thump-thump!" The bison hide drum made a dull sound.

The drums and gongs were beating so loudly it was nerve-wracking. Yang Hong lay there, anxiously pondering. Damn it, it's all because the ground was too damp and slippery.

The greasy towel around my waist felt cool and seeped into my back, spreading into my bloodstream.

The handkerchief that Zhai Hua gave him was indeed a good thing, but he was unlucky and failed to live up to the old man's good intentions; he believed that the village elder would definitely save him and not let the big gray dog bite him to death; but if he did, he would be ridiculed.

A warm, thin stream welled up in Yang Hong's throat, like molten iron; he swallowed hard, forcing it down his throat, along with his will. He knew that his value at the "Dog King Festival" today was not only in the position of the village chief he would inherit, and in the display of his strength as a man, but also in the only way he could win Xiao Yu's heart.

Thinking of Xiaoyu, a strange power suddenly surged from the soles of his feet throughout his body. He mustered all his strength and roared, "Ho ho—"

The shout startled the valley, the villagers, and the village elder who was about to start a fire.

"Hey—"

"Hey—hey!"

The big gray dog, having gathered all its strength, was about to plunge its sharp, white teeth into his neck when it was startled by the shouts. In its moment of hesitation, the cloth handkerchief flew over and blindfolded it.

"Hey—hey hey hey!"

Before the shout had even faded, Yang Hong sprang to his feet; gathering his energy in his dantian, he gritted his teeth and, in a flash, scooped up the big gray dog and tossed it away; a scarlet fireball burst from the animal's mouth.

"Bang!" A sharp volley of gunfire rang out immediately afterward. Yang Hong tensed, a rush of heat brushing past his ears as iron pellets pierced the large gray dog's robust body. In an instant, it collapsed limply to the ground.

"Damn it!" Su Zimin roared, grabbing a tiger fork from someone else and throwing it at them.

With a chilling whistle, the tiger fork was aimed straight at Yang Hong's forehead. He then lifted the yellow-haired dog up, squatted down, and plunged the tiger fork into the dog's head, close to its hair.

"Great!" the mountain people shouted in unison.

Yang Hong put away the tiger fork. Everything felt like a dream, everything happened so suddenly, as if something unpredictable was controlling it all. The mountain people surrounded Yang Hong, shouting and dancing with joy. They hadn't felt such unbridled jubilation in many years, because the successor of the village chief embodied their hopes; the dozen or so villages large and small in the Qinglong Mountains would once again receive the blessings of their ancestors, with favorable weather and abundant water!

"Woo!" The ox horn blew again.

The cowhide drum rang out again. The shaman beckoned the village elder and Yang Hong to come up to the stage, took the red cloth from the village elder, draped it over Yang Hong, and solemnly announced him as the village elder's successor. "Come, drink this bowl of unity wine—" The shaman ordered someone to bring over rice wine, and the three of them drank it all in one gulp.

"Woo-li-wa-li-woo..." The suona horn began to play, a triumphant tune. On the stage pillar, a long "thousand-character whip" was lit, and the shattered whip fragments scattered everywhere along with the "whoo-whoo-pa-la" sound of firecrackers.

"Make way, let me through!" Xiaoyu squeezed through the joyful crowd and ran up to the stage without a care in the world.

Yang Hong walked away from his master and greeted her. He had a thousand words in his heart, but for a moment he couldn't say them.

The village woman smiled and directed a group of people to carry loads of rice wine and cooked pork and mutton up to the open space, where they placed them and called to the village elders: "Let everyone drink first!"

Bowls and chopsticks are easy to find in the mountains; a swing of a machete, and a section of bamboo becomes a bowl, a shaving of a bamboo branch becomes chopsticks. The village elder respectfully toasted the shaman, thanking him for his hard work; he then called Yang Hong over, toasted the shaman, and then toasted the "chieftain" of each small village, asking them to help him in the future. Yang Hong noticed a gleaming tiger fork beside the chieftain of the neighboring Wulong village, the same one that had been thrown at him earlier, and asked why. The chieftain replied, "It was thrown by my people."

Su Zimin brought over a bowl of wine and toasted Yang Hong, saying, "Brother, you killed two dogs in a row, showing unparalleled bravery. You truly deserve to be the successor of the village. It's rare indeed!"

Seeing Yang Hong glancing at the tiger fork, he quickly explained, "I saw the yellow-haired dog had bitten you, and fearing for your safety, I threw the tiger fork to help you deal with the beast." Yang Hong said, "Then I should thank you!"

"No, no, I wouldn't dare," Su Zimin said humbly. Stepping aside, his brother Scarface asked Su Zimin, puzzled, "Brother, why are you still trying to curry favor with him?" "You don't understand," Su Zimin said, "A true man can bend and stretch, only then can he achieve great things."

The villagers toasted Yang Hong one after another. Xiaoyu, afraid he would get drunk, stepped in to stop them. Caihua said sourly, "They haven't even consummated their marriage yet, and he already knows how to pamper a man."

The old woman smiled and said to everyone, "Please don't laugh at our lack of etiquette. We've already consulted a divination master, and Yang Hong and Xiao Yu's birth dates and zodiac signs are compatible. Today is an auspicious day, so let's celebrate their wedding as well. Everyone, eat and drink to your heart's content, sing and dance..."

In the open space, the musicians played the suona again, performing a joyful "wedding song"; the young men played the flute, their notes echoing around the mountain, while the girls danced the ancient "Tan Dance." Sometimes they wore masks, swaying their hips and twisting their waists in various strange movements; other times they spread their fingers and crossed their hands, creating various patterns. As they danced, they moved their feet, forming a circle, escorting the newlyweds before the shaman. The shaman solemnly handed the bride and groom an open red umbrella and a round mirror, blessing them with a life of harmony and happiness, like the umbrella and the mirror; the "umbrella" and "mirror" could also ward off evil spirits and ensure peace and safety. The village elders' faces were already beaming with smiles…

04. The excruciating pain caused him to groan incessantly.

In late winter and early spring, fuzzy bamboo shoots sprouted on the mountains and ridges. The village elder instructed his sons to take Yang Hong around to check on the growth of the bamboo shoots and prepare to set up a collection point. The first batch of bamboo shoots was the freshest.

It is moist and fragrant, and also has the characteristics of tender, crisp, and sweet winter bamboo shoots. The reason why the "Royal Slices" presented as tribute are so excellent in color, aroma, and taste, and of such high quality, is that the selection of raw materials is the first step, and they must be winter bamboo shoots. Although the Yulan slices sold to merchants are also called "Royal Slices", they cannot be made with winter bamboo shoots. Only the first batch of spring bamboo shoots are profitable, and this is the main business, so it is necessary to seize the season to purchase them.

That day, Su Zimin and Yang Hong arrived at a place called Zhushanjie. An old house, blackened by cooking fumes, nestled in a dense bamboo grove. The hostess, upon seeing them, warmly began to serve them. Soon, a bowl of dried beef shreds and a bowl of stir-fried bamboo shoots were ready.

A bowl of thin vermicelli was served, its aroma filling the air. In the mountains, this was considered a "feast."

“This lady is so generous!” Yang Hong said. It is customary here that anyone who is a generation older or several years older than oneself is addressed as “Manman” or “Manniang” as a sign of respect.

The people said, "She's trying to curry favor with us! Everyone within dozens of miles benefits from the bamboo shoot farm."

The hostess, her head wrapped in a black silk scarf, carried a pot of fragrant rice wine and poured it for the guests with great hospitality: "I'm so sorry, we don't have much to offer you... Eat and drink! Don't be shy..."

Yang Hong was starving. He picked up a piece of food and put it in his mouth, then tilted his head back and drank a big gulp of rice wine.

The hostess's eyes lit up beneath her black silk handkerchief, and she hurriedly refilled his wine cup.

Su Zimin only picked at the food, not touching a drop of wine. When the hostess urged him to drink, he covered the wine cup with his palm and said, "Ah, I'm a connoisseur of strong liquor."

The woman paused for a moment, seemingly understanding something; with trembling hands, she took the wine glass from him, returned to the kitchen, gulped it down in one go, and smashed the glass with a loud bang. The noise startled Yang Hong.

"What's wrong with her?" Yang Hong felt that the woman of the house seemed a little strange.

"Who knows?" Su Zimin replied calmly.

The hostess then took out a bottle of corn liquor and a fine porcelain bowl, placed them in front of the man, and said, "Strain it yourself." As soon as she opened her mouth, she exhaled a murky smell of liquor.

A month later. Yang Hong and Xiao Yu went to the county town to buy things.

While inspecting the goods, Yang Hong suddenly felt dizzy and couldn't see anything clearly, so he hurriedly returned to the inn. After a moment of dizziness, his stomach felt like it was filled with lead balls, sinking heavily; it also felt like it was filled with water, bloated and painful, and the pain spread to his chest and ribs, causing him to groan incessantly.

Xiaoyu turned pale with worry and quickly called over the innkeeper's assistant to help her to the old doctor's pharmacy.

The old doctor checked Yang Hong's pulse and asked if he had eaten any rotten food. Yang Hong said no.

The old doctor said it was a bit like cold, prescribed a medicine, and got the medicine, but after a few days the condition did not improve and even got worse.

Upon hearing the news, the village woman rushed over as fast as lightning, examined Yang Hong's eyelids, and said, "There is still hope."

The old woman found a few raw soybeans and offered them to Yang Hong. Yang Hong asked, puzzled, "They're so astringent, how can I eat them?"

The old woman said, "It's good that you can't eat anymore, you should try—"

Yang Hong threw the raw soybeans into his mouth, chewed them, and found them surprisingly delicious, filling his mouth with fragrance.

"You've been bewitched!" the village woman said definitively, concluding that she was simultaneously afflicted by both water and gold poison. She then asked, "Have you been to any other people's houses for tea or wine lately?"

Yang Hongdao said, "I've drunk a lot of tea. Whenever I'm thirsty, I go to the neighboring house to drink. But I've only drunk wine once, at the old house in Zhushanjie... It's been more than a month since then."

The old woman slapped the edge of the bed and said angrily, "That damned witch doctor, when she gets addicted, she loses her mind and does all sorts of heinous things; she doesn't care who it is, she almost killed my son."

She told the young couple to wait at the inn while she went to Zhushan Boundary to find the Grass Gu Po and get the antidote.

Yang Hong drank the blackish-yellow antidote that the village woman had retrieved, and then took a dose of warm medicine brewed by her. His condition improved daily, and he left the inn a few days later. Upon returning home, he asked the village woman: Who exactly was the witch who had made him "eat black"?

“She gave me the antidote, so I can’t reveal her name; that’s the rule,” the old woman said. “And don’t ask again.”

Based on the circumstances and clues, Yang Hong had already determined who the witch doctor was, and then asked, "I have never met her before, and we have no grudge against each other. Why would she want to harm me?"

The old woman said, "It's like becoming addicted to hookah once you start smoking it. The witch doctor is also addicted to casting spells. 'If you don't cast spells for three years, your bones will tremble.' Without casting spells, she feels unwell all over, restless, and emaciated; but casting a spell once can add three years to her life. Given the opportunity, the witch doctor never misses a chance. When the addiction kicks in, she becomes unrecognizable, even to her own children and flesh and blood, and will inevitably 'eat them'..."

What Yang Hong couldn't understand was: Su Zimin drank with him, he was "cheated" and suffered greatly, but Su Zimin was unharmed?

He racked his brains but couldn't figure it out. He asked the village woman, but she wouldn't answer and gave evasive replies. So he went to the bamboo shoot field to ask the village elder. The elder countered, "Did you two drink from the same pot of wine?"

"It seems so."

"Will it always be like this?"

“Oh no, no!” he recalled the scene and recounted it in detail.

"Don't ask anymore!" The village elder's face darkened.

Yang Hong nodded as if he understood.

As Yang Hong was walking, he suddenly heard someone call his name. He turned around and saw Su Zimin, who was driving a caravan of horses back from outside, looking dusty and tired, and waving to him from afar.

"You're back!"

"I'll be right back after delivering the goods." Zimin patted Yang Hong on the shoulder and said with concern, "I heard you just came back from the county town and fell seriously ill. They said it was some kind of illness caused by cold in the heart or some kind of evil spirit. It really worried me! I wanted to visit you, but I couldn't get away. Are you alright now?"

"The crocodile cries for the mouse!" he cursed inwardly, but said aloud, "It's alright, it feels nice and comfortable now."

"That's good!" Zimin took out two ginseng roots from his bulging cloth bag and handed them to him, "Take these to nourish your body."

"No, no!"

"Hey, we're brothers, no need to be so polite!"

That evening, Zimin gave several bottles of expensive tonic wine and some pieces of clothing to the village elder, village woman, and Xiaoyu.

The village chief was deeply moved by the kindness and care his people showed to Yang Hong and his wife, and their concern for their elders. However, the thought of Yang Hong being poisoned by the curse made him wary. He couldn't believe his nephew had become a saint so quickly. Would he really be willing to let outsiders inherit his position as village chief and his uncle's fortune?

On July 12th, every household in Qingzhu Village welcomes their deceased ancestors. The ceremony is just as elaborate and thorough as welcoming living guests. Before welcoming the ancestors, the house is thoroughly cleaned inside and out, and tables and benches are set up in the main room, with food and drink prepared. On the morning of the 12th, the village elder, along with Yang Hong and Xiao Yu, carrying umbrellas and straw hats, goes to the main road at the village entrance, loudly calling out to the ancestors and setting off firecrackers to welcome the ancestors home. The village elder places a piece of paper money on each bench and seat, inviting the ancestors to sit down; then, water is fetched for the ancestors to wash their faces, tea is poured (one cup per seat), and tobacco is offered (a pipe filled with tobacco is placed near the stove); after the tea and tobacco, wine is offered, three cups in a row, and the ancestors are called to eat; after the wine, rice is served, and after the rice, tea is poured again, and water is fetched for washing faces. This offering is repeated three times a day.

Zimin's father passed away early, so when welcoming old guests, it can only be the younger generation welcoming the older generation, not the older generation welcoming the younger generation. The village elder cannot welcome his deceased brother, so he is concerned about whether Zimin can welcome the old guests.

After breakfast, Zhaihua went to the home of a villager in Xiashaping.

The villagers weren't home, so the village elder sat for a while before explaining in detail the rules for receiving old guests. Caihua nodded repeatedly in agreement. She then poured a cup of Wanhua tea for her uncle to soothe his throat. The village elder took it, drank it down in a few gulps, gave him a few instructions, and went home.

After dinner on July 14th, the entire village elders, young and old, carrying umbrellas and baskets (filled with glutinous rice cakes, tofu, pork belly, and other offerings for the deceased "old guest"), set off with firecrackers to the main road at the village entrance, where they burned "packages" by the roadside. These packages were made of rough-edged paper containing paper money, with the name of the deceased "old guest" and the name of the person burning the paper money written on the cover; the more packages there were, the more money the "old guest" would have in the afterlife.

The following year, on Qingming Festival, the village elder went up the mountain to "ensure" his ancestors' graves were visited, burning paper money. He caught a cold and began to feel unwell. First, he lost his appetite, then developed a cough, wheezing, and a heavy, stabbing sensation in his abdomen; next, he experienced chills and fever, and many doses of medicine proved ineffective. His condition worsened daily, leading him to suspect he was under a spell, but he couldn't pinpoint where the spell had been cast. Secretly investigating, several sorceresses swore an oath to heaven:

You can bully people and the land, but you can't bully the villagers. Whoever casts a curse on the villagers will suffer a terrible fate. The village matriarch promised to keep their secret as long as the antidote was given. They said they hadn't cast the curse, and their antidote wouldn't work. The matriarch pleaded repeatedly, but they kept shaking their heads. Helpless, the matriarch had no choice but to ask a shaman to perform an exorcism and pray for the ancestral spirits' protection.

On that day, Su Cuihua, the sorceress of Zhushan, came to the village elder's house. Together with the village elder, they determined that the village elder had been afflicted by earth sorceress, and that it had been there for a long time and was difficult to eradicate completely; the only solution was to use "driving medicine" to fight poison with poison.

Unable to think of a better solution, the village woman, in desperation, resorted to any remedy. Following instructions, she caught poisonous insects such as stinging crickets, spiders, scorpions, snakes, sparrows, and silkworms, dried them, ground them into powder, and made a "medicine." After taking it for three days, the village man began to experience a warm, aching stomach, followed by severe abdominal pain, nausea, and vomiting, even bringing up bile. The vomit contained traces of blood. After vomiting, he went to the outhouse, where he suffered from incessant diarrhea, with dark blood in both his urine and feces. The village woman breathed a sigh of relief—the medicine had worked.

Although the poison in the village elder's body had subsided, his advanced age made him unable to withstand such strenuous activity. "Even heroes fear illness," and from then on, his body became increasingly weak and emaciated, unable to recover his strength no matter what tonics he took. He couldn't stay idle; the bamboo shoot farm was his lifeline. Whenever he could move, he would go there to check on things, especially the "imperial bamboo shoots" being prepared for tribute—he was particularly worried about them. Although the village elder had passed on his ancestral skills to Yang Hong, when it came time for Yang Hong to bake the "imperial bamboo shoots" alone, he would still frequently visit the farm, impossible to stop him from.

That day, while crossing the small wooden bridge, a sudden, strong mountain wind blew. He lost his footing, swayed, and fell into the river with a "plop," never to rise again.

Having just finished the funeral arrangements for his uncle, Su Zimin, his head wrapped in mourning cloth, came to pay his respects to the village matriarch. During his uncle's funeral, Su Zimin acted as both a dutiful son and the person in charge, running around tirelessly, day and night, until his eyes were dark and swollen. The village matriarch saw this and took it to heart, urging him to rest. He shook his head, telling his aunt not to cry and harm her health; now that the funeral was over, he had come to see the village matriarch.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, he said to the village woman, "The Taoist priest wants money, the suona player we hired wants money... We ate twenty pots of tofu, twenty barrels of rice wine, and seven fat pigs... all of which cost money. What do you think we should do?"

The old woman, her tears still wet on her face, had no time to think about such things. She waved her hand and said, "Go and do it. Spend whatever is necessary."

Zimin added, "It's been several months since we paid the workers at the bamboo shoot farm. My uncle said he would pay them when he was alive..."

The old woman said, "Go and distribute it."

The man continued, "We also need money for business... If we don't have cash, we can use the land deed as collateral... Uncle used to always leave it to me to handle these things..."

The village matriarch had no interest in this matter. Without a second thought, she simply handed over all the silver cabinet keys, land deeds, account books, seals, and other valuables to her subjects.

That evening, Su Zimin hosted a banquet for several prominent figures in the village. He respectfully offered a toast and exchanged many polite words. Finally, he changed the subject, saying, “The bamboo shoot farm was established by my uncle and me through difficult times, and I also managed his farmland. Now that my uncle has passed away, this burden falls on my shoulders—after all, I am his own nephew! I hope you will all offer your assistance, and I will not treat you unfairly…”

People were stunned. Su Zimin then added, "Let me give you some advance notice: from now on, whether it's about the bamboo shoot farm or the land, not a single blade of grass, brick, stone, or penny can be moved without my approval; if anyone is dissatisfied or tries to sabotage things behind my back, I will not be polite!"

The atmosphere suddenly became tense. As people pondered Su Zimin's intentions in "making an example of someone," Zimin raised his voice and said:

"Originally, this was a matter between our families and had nothing to do with you all; but some people love to meddle and gossip, and things will get complicated later! You are all prominent figures, and I don't want to lose face and cause trouble for you!"