Half a century ago, in an ancient town in southern Anhui Province, there was a story of grandfathers and grandchildren joining forces to fight giant rats. The ancient town has a long-established oil mill, which is said to have been founded in the late Yuan and early Ming dynasties. This oil mill makes oil

Man-Mouse vs Oil Mill

　　Half a century ago, in an ancient town in southern Anhui Province, there was a story of grandfathers and grandchildren joining forces to fight giant rats.

The ancient town has a long-established oil mill, which is said to have been founded in the late Yuan and early Ming dynasties. This oil mill uses ancestral craftsmanship to make oil, and it is passed on to men and not women, and nephews are not passed on to sons-in-law. The oil squeezed out by the oil mill is mellow and delicious, refreshing and refreshing. Stir-fried dishes made in sesame oil from this oil mill, the taste can only be described in three words ~ ~ ~ excellent. The oil extracted from this oil mill has become a special cooking oil for many large city restaurants and hotels. Villagers in the ten townships and eight miles queue up to buy oil in large pots and barrels outside the oil mill has become a beautiful street scene.

"This strange thing more than 50 years ago, after living for more than 90 years, I can't say that I saw it in front of me, I'm afraid I haven't heard of it." Grandpa slammed the ashes in the pot of smoke on the green bricks, squinted his eyes and said, "I was a strong laborer in my forties back then." During the day, he works as an oil presser in an oil mill. The night was a vigil for my second uncle. At that time, he was too old to be old, his body was tough, and he could eat two full bowls of blue-sided rice in one meal. "

Grandpa said that he clearly remembered that the second uncle had said that there was a story of a thrilling human-rat war: it was a dark and windy night in the month, the wind did not see five fingers, and the face of the cold northwest wind was painful. Second uncle's old habits: a pot of old white dried, a dish of fried peanut kernels, a bowl of steamed bacon, two cucumbers with sauce. The second uncle poured himself a drink and made a wine immortal. I was drunk and dizzy, and I unconsciously had the feeling of being a god. Full of wine and food, he fell asleep and was very sweet. I don't know how long later, the urine swelled and woke him up. Preparing to get up, he felt a strange noise on the wooden stairs outside the door. Listen closely to the ear, the stairs from the second floor to the first floor make a rhythmic sound, evenly like the sound of drums. The sound went from top to bottom, drifting away. Grandpa said, and the second uncle said that this strange sound had happened before, but it was particularly loud that night.

He said that his second uncle had never read a book, and his knowledge of nature could only be limited to the shallow level of word of mouth and hearsay. Therefore, he believes that the sound may be due to the oil mill half a year ago, the oil presser who died half a year ago, has deep feelings for the place where he works, refuses to live in the underworld after death, and thinks of the oil mill in his heart, so he takes advantage of the dark wind of the moon to travel to the auspicious day and come to a hometown to revisit. Grandpa said, the second uncle said that he was thinking in his heart: I have not harmed anyone, and I have not done anything sorry for the brothers of the oil mill and the fathers and villagers of the ten miles and eight townships. Since the deceased brother was reluctant to the oil mill and wanted to come back, we would not commit a crime in the well water and river water. He swims his, and I sleep with mine. If he is tired of playing and hungry, I will ask him to accompany me to drink the rest of the old white dry.

Grandpa's second uncle had a grandson who was in elementary school at the time. At that time, the popular manuscript "Footsteps of Terror" among classmates. Xiao Xiao had copied it by hand, and he had also read this manuscript. Xiao Xiao told grandpa that there were several words in the manuscript that were copied like the Book of Heaven, so he couldn't understand the meaning expressed by the author, so he could only guess with a guess, barely able to figure out the general meaning.

Grandpa continued to tell the old story: After listening to Grandpa's colorful narration about the strange footsteps of the oil mill, he asked Grandpa if it would be the national party dog agent lurking in the town who was pretending to be a ghost, right? The dog agent may have used the cover of the night to do some unseemly reactionary work in the oil mill. And the strange banging sound may be the high-heeled leather shoes of the female agent stepping on the top of the stairs.

Grandpa took out a cigarette from his pocket, drew a cigarette in his mouth, felt a match, lit a cigarette after burning it, took a deep breath, and told the old story: Xiao Xiao clamored to go with Grandpa to catch the dog agent, and shouted loudly, "If this case is solved, using it as material for writing essays will definitely be wonderful, a hundred times more wonderful than the "Footsteps of Terror" that I have just seen." Xiao Xiao flashed his big eyes and said excitedly.

Grandpa said: After listening to my grandson's words, the little grandfather, that is, my second uncle, touched his head and smiled and agreed. The second uncle said in his heart that Quan would accompany his grandson tonight to have fun and find happiness. When he was about to go to the oil mill, he did not forget to bring the family's big flower cat to the oil mill with him. Before the second uncle and grandson went to bed, the big flower cat meowed and obediently curled up in the door of the room as the sentry of the grandfather and grandson.

In the middle of the night, the little face was flushed, and the wings of his nose made a slight snoring sound. When the grandfather and grandson slept sweetly, the grandfather clearly heard the sound of banging again.

The big flower cat next to the bed was agitated, opened its round eyes, meowed, and then swooped down the stairs. Immediately after, there was a rolling and tearing sound from the other side of the stairs. The flower cat's mournful meow was clearly mixed with a squeaky scream. Listening to the sound should be made by a mouse.

Grandpa lifted the quilt, got barefoot, picked up the knife, and rushed out of the door with an arrow. The little one who woke up rubbed his fishy eyes, didn't care about the cloak, barefoot, and followed Grandpa to kill the past.

In the dim incandescent light, the big flower cat is tearing and tangling with the same animal about the same size as it, rolling together.

Explaining that it was late, it was fast, and the little grandfather rushed to the front, and in a small shout, he struggled to swing his sword and split at the evil animal that was wrestling with the big flower cat.

Just now, the guy who was still brave and fierce, who did not accept defeat, suddenly blurred his flesh and blood, his belly facing the sky, lying motionless on the ground. Look closely, it's twitching slightly. The little grandfather leaned forward to take a closer look, and the evil animal was clearly a shiny rat. Looking at its size again, it was not much different from the big flower cat. What is particularly amazing is that this giant rat has a round ball the size of a ping-pong ball at the end of its tail.

Looking at the poor big flower cat again, the ears actually made the rat tear and bite bloody, and the body was covered with scales. If it weren't for the timely help of the two grandfathers, it is really difficult to say whose hand the deer died in this cat-and-mouse war.