A fragrant tree
Lao Hao had a strong impulse after a violent and inexplicable headache, vowing to find an aroma that could liberate people from pain.
That headache was like a revelation, a conspicuous signpost on the road of Lao Hao's life. Before this, Lao Hao ran the "Lao Hao Lamb Steamed Bun Village". Take "Zhuang" instead of "Pavilion", Lao Hao's reason is to take the solemnity and solemnity of "Zhuang". The truth in his heart can't be told to people, but it's not that he is worried that others will misunderstand and laugh at him, and if Lao Hao cares so much about other people's statements, it is not Lao Hao. Quite simply, Lao Hao is the most unsightly and solemn.
The solemn Lao Hao solemnly runs his "Lao Hao Mutton Steamed Bun Village". The business of "Lao Hao Mutton Steamed Bun Village" was well-known from the first day of opening to the day of the replacement of new owners.
The good end of the business is not done now. Because of that headache.
The good old Hao and the old Hao, who never had a headache, suddenly had a thunderous headache on a sunny day that day. Ding Yixiao, who was half a body smaller than Lao Hao, smiled and tried to move Lao Hao's fat body to send him to the hospital, and Lao Hao, who was gritting his teeth in pain, felt that his nerves were suddenly loosened like an iron plate, and because of the pain, the twisted eyebrows spread out, and Lao Hao stopped struggling and asked Ding to smile: "I suddenly smelled an aroma, and my head did not hurt." ”
Old Hao shook his head, and his neck was indeed soft and light.
"It really doesn't hurt anymore," Lao Hao said.
Lao Hao held Ding Yi's smiling face, sniffed and sniffed in her neck and shoulder socket, he smelled the warm fragrance of Lancome perfume wafting in Ding Yixiao's ear, the amber smell transmitted by Estée Lauder essence between her brows, but the wisps were clear, but it was a hidden aroma, and Lao Hao did not find the source.
Lao Hao had taught himself Chinese medicine for a few days before, and he had some knowledge of the herbs of Chinese medicine, so he checked the relationship between fragrance and pain, although the results were unknown, but an unusually bold and very beautiful hypothesis thrived in Lao Hao's mind. He wants to manage the aroma and sell it to those who, like himself, need the aroma to save. In the days full of assumptions and fantasies, Lao Hao even hoped that the fierce headache would come again, so he planted two large pots of lotus flowers on the lawn in front of the door to wait. But after that, Lao Hao's chest was tight, his stomach hurt, and his rhinitis attacked, but his head did not hurt again. During chest tightness, stomach pain, and rhinitis attacks, Lao Hao stubbornly chose to look for some kind of symptomatic incense, not surprisingly, he found them one by one. When his chest was tight, he inexplicably missed the lush old cypress tree on the primary school campus, and found the location of the elementary school by memory, but now there was a five-star hotel standing like a monument, and the soul of the cypress tree was gone. His chest tightness pressed his feet and led him, and he stopped at the entrance of the botanical garden and saw a cypress tree there, waiting for him like an old friend who had been missing for a long time. Old Hao almost pounced, he stood under the tree and breathed greedily, miraculously, his chest had an invisible window open to the outside world.
After that, other parts of Lao Hao's body had pain of one kind or another. When his stomach hurts, he wants to smell the smell of schisandra, when he burps he misses the smell of mint leaves that have been burned in the hot pot, once his left eyelid jumps wildly, he does not have the joy of "getting rich", but he misses the scene of the last spring tour of the middle school, holding a vigorous dandelion to make Ding Yi smile and blow his lips. Strangely, when he thought of the faint smell of dandelions like autumn dew, his eyelids did not jump.
Hi, the miracle was met by me. Old Hao thought.
The money that "Lao Hao Mutton Steamed Bun Zhuang" brought to Lao Hao has now paved a series of roads that are wider or narrower, far or near, leading to a vast wilderness, terminated under a certain tree, or a certain vine. Sometimes it's a vast sea with waves, sometimes it's a stream covered with green flies. Now Lao Hao knew that the scent of the sea could make his eyes clear, and the fragrant aroma of the broad-leaved bush forest was diuretic, while the fragrance of the coniferous bush made him feel hungry. In addition to smelling the incense sources that he could reach, Lao Hao collected those aromas, put different aromas into various large and small bottles, and then inserted one bottle after another into the shelf, and inserted the shelf into a special box, which was placed on the car. Old Hao drove on the road, and he heard the aromas in the bottles or dozing off, or talking softly, occasionally arguing, all beautiful. Lao Hao was so relieved and smiled so comfortably.
Lao Hao's footsteps in search of aroma stopped in front of a huge birch tree, and behind the birch tree was a long maple forest. It was a south-facing hillside. When Lao Hao arrived there, it was three o'clock in the afternoon, the sun was so warm that it shone on the birch maple trees, and just after the Mid-Autumn Festival, the birch leaves were dark yellow and the maple leaves were deep red, lined with dreamlike white trunks, so beautiful that Lao Hao was sad. Old Hao stopped far away and whizzed through the large piece of kneeless thatch in front of him. He smelled the ultimate aroma that he thought was supreme, the only thing he wanted. He was so happy that he didn't want to be amazed, so satisfied that he couldn't describe it. He walked over to the birch tree and lay down. At first he heard the sound of the fruit of an unknown tree falling into the turf, the sound of a squirrel running past. Without a hint of wind, the world is so quiet and warm, how like a comfortable cradle. Lao Hao finally stretched his body to the outside world. Lao Hao's entire consciousness finally sank completely into a realm he didn't want to admire or describe. The car keys he had in his pocket, as if he had received a secret order, reached out of his pocket and jumped, looking exactly like he was learning from his master.
The world is quiet. Still no wind.
A tree with a hanging swing
There are stonemasons in our village, there are carpenters. We liked that the carpenter was a little more than the stonemason. The carpenter's name is Azi, and we feel that Azi lived like the scenery on the mountain behind his house. The mountain is called Birch Ridge, with long birch trees, acorn trees, and also long quercus and locust trees. In the spring, we go there to pick up the locust flowers, and the acacia flowers hang on our faces and slap our faces with their scents. In the summer we picked fungus and mushrooms, and when we came to the carpenter's door, when we met him, we picked the fruit from the tree for us, the cherry was red, the apricot was golden, and we enjoyed the carpenter's gift, praising the carpenter for being wooden. In the season when there was no fruit, the carpenter folded flowers and sent us, thorn roses. We went home with flowers in our hands and gave them to our mothers. The mother put the flowers in a glass bottle filled with water, smiled and praised the carpenter for being good, and the craftsmanship was equally good, saying that the furniture made by the carpenter could last for a hundred years.
The carpenter is a craftsman, and a village needs his craft. The carpenter went out of this house and into that house to create the furniture of a village house. Wherever the carpenter went, he was always followed by a group of children, watching him heal cracks, repair scars, and reveal the rings of the tree. Elm, camphor, and rosewood were piled up in front of and behind him, and shavings opened on his hands. It's on again. Day by day, he lived in the wood-colored wood fragrance. The carpenter is a person who cherishes the material, the big wood is used, the small wood will also be used to the right place, the carpenter is the Bole of wood.
Carpenters are the happiest and most remarkable people to live. We always think so, and we secretly hope that the carpenter will share his happiness with another person, such as that the carpenter will wake up one morning, be inspired by the gentle chirping of the birds and finches in the forest behind the house, happily go to the door to pick fragrant thorn roses, wrap them in wide plane leaves, go to our school, knock on the door of our beautiful, single teacher Dai Lanzhi, and propose to her. Even if the carpenter does not imitate the actions and lines of the male protagonist in the movie, he will be quite charming, and he can win the victory and win the lonely and proud heart of Teacher Dai, and at the same time, he is soft and fragile. We calculate and pay attention to this every day. Let the young man have no father, and far away from the homeland, in our ravine, like a fairy tale, the beautiful and sad Teacher Dai, has since entered the princess-like life taken care of by the carpenter. The carpenter, on the other hand, may be the prince cursed by another fairy tale.
Now, when they meet, the magic disappears and love awakens. We believe that this beautiful thing may happen at any time, you see the carpenter, he is on the way home from work or in the evening, if he meets Teacher Dai, he will always stand far away, give way sideways, smile and welcome Teacher Dai approaching, and greet him in a low voice: Teacher Dai is early! Even if the two met in the evening, he was allowed to say this: Teacher Dai is early! Then, it was not until Teacher Dai walked past him, walked far away, and did not see him, and then he would move back to the middle of the road and continue to walk his way. He would smile quietly, and the peace and contentment in his smile would make everyone who saw that smile feel moved.
Surely you can also see that the carpenter, like us, is deeply fond of Teacher Dai, but why doesn't he always propose to her?
We were so anxious that we went to suggest that the carpenter hang a swing from the tall walnut tree in the middle of his yard, and the carpenter asked who we were going to swing the swing for. We told the carpenter very seriously that his walnut tree was the most beautiful swing in the world, the most suitable for hanging a swing. We looked at the carpenter's walnut tree, and a picture flashed in our hearts, the beautiful Teacher Dai sitting high on the swing, the swing swaying leisurely, making her clothes flutter, next to the swing, the carpenter's tall tree-like thorn rose is blooming thousands of beautiful and fragrant flowers, singing a chorus of praise for the happy life in front of her with the fragrance of a tree.
One day later, this image that had existed in my fantasy was revived in reality, and I really saw a swing in front of the carpenter's door, but the one on the swing with her legs hanging quietly was not Teacher Dai, but the little daughter of the carpenter and another woman.
A tree with purple flowers
Su Meiniang wore a beautiful dress with hand-embroidered flowers that she had hand-tailored, and she felt very good and went out.
Picking out the curtain, his eyes wandered, and he caught a glimpse of "Wang Chang's family" standing under the hibiscus tree in front of his house.
It was the morning of June, the sun hit a section of pink wall and then reflected on the purple hibiscus flowers full of trees, and the woman standing on that background, even if she was ugly, would add to the demon, like the woman of the "Wang Chang family", who wanted to be beautiful, was not beautiful.
The "Wang Chang family" was called Wu Shu Scroll, but Su Meiniang only called these three words politely and symbolically at the first meeting, and in the days to come, when she had to identify the Wu Scroll, she only called her "Wang Chang's Family". When she said this, it was mostly just to her husband, Wang, the elder of the Wadang Museum. As for Wu Shushu herself, she was no longer going to talk to her, let alone call her name.
In fact, Su Meiniang and Wu Shujuan have never clashed head-on in front of the public, but in the secret contest, who can calculate how many times.
Mustard was planted when they first met.
At that time, Su Meiniang had just come from her hometown to reunite with her husband, and the Wadang Museum was a small unit, less than ten people, in such a small group, such as the arrival of the curator's wife, as an employee, naturally had to come to the door to meet and say hello. Moreover, wushu scrolls and the curator lived so close together, it was simply a wall apart.
The first time Su Meiniang and Wu Shujuan met, it was doomed to her dislike for her in the future. The two women stretched out their hands at about the same time, squeezed the tips of each other's fingers almost deeply, and took their hands away from each other's hands at about the same second, and the dragonfly shook them a little, and each saw the indifference and hostility of the other.
Su Meiniang's eyes: Why are you hostile to me, and my arrival hinders you?
The upturned corners of the mouth of the Wushu scroll are clearly saying: You are the beautiful lady of the leader, so what!
In this way, across a low wall of privets, the two women were quiet but clearly sparked and competed.
Su Meiniang planted a loofah on her own side, and Wu Shuhuan moved a large vat with grapes and placed it on this side of the wall, and after a few gusts of rain, the loofah seedlings and vines climbed together over the low Privet and the wishes of their respective owners.
Wu Shu scrolls then planted a few moonflowers on this side of the wall, and Su Meiniang planted a laurel on the other side of the wall, and soon, the aroma of the laurel on that side drifted through the Privet wall, and the incense of the moon season on this side would also float over there uncontrollably.
alas! They stood in the inseparable aroma of each other, sighing darkly in their hearts, each pursing their lips, trying their best to calm their faces.
But there are certainly some wonderful moments in life.
For example, in bed, Su Meiniang was so satisfied with her husband, but at that moment of perfection, the charming appearance of wushu scrolls coldly came to Su Meiniang's heart. The Wushu scrolls that appeared at this moment illuminated Su Meiniang like a light, allowing her to find the root cause of her inexplicable resentment against the Wushu Scrolls, Su Meiniang thought, in this way to her perfect husband Lao Wang, she had given the Wushu Scrolls a complete one, right? It turns out that it is so oh, no wonder there is no unprovoked hatred in the world, but it turns out that the root of her discord with the WuShu Scroll is in Lao Wang! Extremely angry and indignant, Su Meiniang literally replaced her passionate self with a martial arts scroll, and her passion turned into anger. It was the fiery Lao Wang who wanted to get his wife's departure across 108,000 miles, and was pushed down into the clouds by the hood, looking at Su Meiniang, who was angry, eager but not close. The sympathy made him cool and enthusiastic, wondering with chagrin whether his wife was approaching menopause.
On this day, Su Meiniang on the side of the Privet was sinking into some kind of thought, "yawning" at a certain picture in her imagination, the sound fell, and the other side responded with a "yawn" sound, and she saw that the Wushu scroll was crouching under the moon flower to prune the flowers that had dried up. After this, the "yawn" sound would occasionally sound in their dim confrontation, and as a response, another similar "yawn" followed.
This morning, when Su Meiniang saw the wushu scroll standing under the tree looking at the purple hibiscus flower, it seemed to be habitual and understated.
But she immediately regretted it, and there was a little bit of fear, after all, the distance was so close, the goal was so certain, what if the Wu Scroll turned back to herself and "yucked"?
Su Meiniang thought like this, and couldn't help but look back at the Wu Scroll, who was still with his back to her, serenely, peacefully, as if completely attracted by the beauty of the hibiscus flower, attracted by this purple June morning.
Su Meiniang, who had planned to walk out of the courtyard door, quietly retreated back to her own home.
When Su Meiniang sat back on the sofa, she thought, if the Wushu Scroll fights with herself, will she directly rush up to tear her up, or will she first take off her beautiful, hand-embroidered clothes and then fight with her?
Su Meiniang was amused by the scene she had come up with, and she couldn't help laughing anymore.
A tree that was attacked
According to the generation of that vine twists and turns, we should call him "Grandpa". But no one called him that. It's not that he is particularly unworthy, but that we call him a smooth mouth and call him grandpa, which is not enough to express ourselves.
His name was Kuan Ming. So we call for "generosity" and "generosity." Even children who have just learned to speak have learned this.
The village is on both sides of the river, chickens and dogs barking, very lively. The wide mansion is on the slope, the single-family, the lights are out, much like a lonely one-eyed. Naturally, he is outside our circle of life.
What attracts the attention of our children is the fruit tree of the Kuanming family.
In the village, every fruit tree withered early, because of the various weapons in our hands. Bamboo poles, wooden sticks, a stone that rushes like a bird throwing into the forest. Even in the thinnest branches, the tallest branches, we have to let the cautious stones knock them down one by one. Who makes our stomachs always hungry.
We wipe off a drop of snot that crumbling at the tip of our nose with our sleeves, and we roam under every tree with our eyes wide open, our eyes being the most sophisticated detectors. Hope ends up mostly empty, and the occasional surprise is the deception of those specious leaves. At this time, we will invariably set our sights on the spacious mansion.
It's a Christmas tree full of gifts, a fairy tale paradise.
First, the sister seduced the younger sister: do you want to eat golden wheat apricots? And sweet and crispy peaches? Before the sister finished speaking, her saliva had already flowed out of her teeth. My sister said, then go to the kuanming mansion to pick some back! The sister said, the sister is tall, the hands are long, and the sister goes. My sister immediately changed her face: We are old, in case we are caught, a scolding, how to meet people in the future! Go, and if you get caught, run. Run around the village, don't go straight home.
We went anyway. I was afraid and there was an indescribable excitement.
As soon as I stepped into the wide mansion from the sun, the heat of my body was immediately reduced. The trees are like huge clouds overhead. Sunlight flecked on the ground, and the two dilapidated slate houses resembled beetles nestled in the shadows. Tiptoeing through the door, I saw only a low house that had been blackened by the smoke of the old age, and there was a stove at the door, and by the side of the gable wall, there was a fat earthen kang, and there was a pile of rotten rag-like things on the kang, and there was a bold and careful, and he booed softly: It's okay, I'm sleeping. But we still went around to the back of the house and sneaked up on the trees there.
Oh, my God! At the back of the house, the apricots were like lush ears of grain that lowered the branches, and when they saw us coming, the ears nodded in the wind, and the peaches had already laughed and cracked their red mouths, and they cheered in unison for our arrival.
And so the happy moment came. We are overwhelmed by the happiness on our lips.
A blast thunder burst in the head, and the happiness on the side of the mouth was like a balloon that had been stabbed.
In front of him stood the god of thunder.
The thief became a stupid bird.
Eyes were drawn to the man in front of him, only to see his short stature, slightly hunched back, thick and thick eyebrows, black as paint, eyes squinting when he looked at us, a black light emanated from the squint, shooting the face numb. If you subtract thirty years of age, he is a black-faced door god pasted on the New Year's door panel.
I don't know who shouted, and the stupid bird woke up for a moment and threw itself into a low forest nearby.
Kuan Ming also jumped out of that confrontation. He turned and ran to the village. Jumping from the west end of the village to the east end of the village, and then from the east head of the village to the west end of the village, he ran and shouted, and the chicken flew and the dog jumped. Throughout the afternoon, the news of his robbery spread to the corners of the village.
We hid in the woods until it was dark and we were sure to return to the village. The face was naturally broken, the basket had been lost earlier, and the last thing we got was the sisters' all-out shameful smile.
We were even more frightened when we saw the shadow on our way to school. But he came to talk to us and asked, "How are you?" Is your milk good? How often does your dad come home? Your family's land is planted by your mother alone? We began to be afraid, and then we became disdainful, and we did not care to talk to him, so we marched forward unchanged, leaving him alone in the dust that we raised, talking to himself.
Because it was winter, the trees did not bear fruit.
Kuan Ming later died, and it is said that he got up early in the morning to carry water back to the house and put down the bucket to go out, and planted it from the threshold to the outside of the threshold.
So, under the fruit tree where we had excitedly stretched out our fingers, a large earthen bag bulged up, which was the last place of kuanming.
The lonely mansion was completely deserted. The barren place, the weeds bloom year after year, and the apricot blossoms and peach blossoms are full of years, and then the grain-like fruits are suspended above the desolation.
It's just that we have never stolen the fruit of the KuanMing family again. That's a taboo for the townspeople.
Years later, I think it was we, who were close to angels in our broad eyes, who gave the poor widower a chance to speak in front of the villagers, a chance to vent his misfortune and loneliness, and he had been waiting for us to steal his tassel-like fruit that had bent the branches. It's just that the way he chooses is slightly different.
It's just that then, we don't have the ability and energy to try to understand something else. That's it.
Illustration Liu Lan
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