mountain road
It was a gloomy evening, and the sky was covered with dark clouds, as if carrying an imminent outbreak of unease. I, Li Ling, an ordinary village girl, was walking on the mountain road home. I've walked this mountain road countless times, but the atmosphere today is very different.
The mountain road was overgrown with weeds, and the branches of the old trees on both sides swayed in the wind, stretching out their withered arms like ghosts. As I walked, I felt a chill in my heart. Suddenly, I heard a faint cry for help.
"Help...... Who's going to save me......" The voice was faint and trembling, as if coming from the grass next to it.
I carefully pushed through the grass and found a grandmother lying on the ground. She was pale, ragged, and looked very weak.
"Grandma, what's wrong with you?" I asked, crouching down, concerned.
"Girl, I'm ...... My foot twisted and I couldn't walk. Grandma frowned painfully and pointed to her swollen ankle.
Looking at Grandma's pained expression, a wave of sympathy swelled in my heart. In this wilderness, if you don't care about her, I'm afraid your life will be in danger. So, I picked up my grandmother and decided to send her home.
"Grandma, how far is your house from here, I'll send you back. I said softly.
Grandma looked at me gratefully, and said in a trembling voice, "It's not far, just turn into the path in front, and it won't be long before you arrive." ”
I nodded, and carefully helped Grandma forward. However, when we reached the intersection of the path, Grandma suddenly grabbed my arm tightly and her expression became extremely serious.
"Girl, listen to me, don't take this path!" Grandma's voice trembled, and a trace of fear flashed in her eyes.
I was shocked and asked, "Why? This is the road to your house." ”
Grandma took a deep breath and said slowly: "This path, it'...... It's not flat. Every night, strange noises are heard, some say it is the cry of a ghost, some say it is the low roar of a wild beast. Moreover, many of the people who walked this path disappeared inexplicably. ”
When I heard this, I couldn't help but feel a chill rise in my back. But on second thought, this may just be a rumor in the village, how can there be any ghosts and gods in reality?
"Grandma, don't worry, I'll send you back, it'll be fine. "I tried to comfort her, but I was also trying to comfort myself.
When Grandma saw that I insisted, she didn't say anything more. We cautiously walked into the path.
The sky is getting darker and darker, and the path is lined with dense trees, and the shadows of the trees seem to hide some secret. A cold wind blew, and the leaves rustled like whispers.
Suddenly, we heard a strange sound, like someone whispering, like the roar of a wild beast. Grandma and I were terrified and clung to each other.
"Grandma, what's that sound?" I asked in a trembling voice.
"I ...... I don't know. Grandma's voice was also trembling, "Let's go." ”
We quickened our pace, but the strange sound grew closer and clearer. Suddenly, a dark shadow sprang out of the woods and lunged at us.
"Ahh
But strangely, the dark shadow did not hurt us, but passed by us and disappeared into the darkness.
We continued to move forward in horror and finally saw Grandma's home. It was a dilapidated hut, and the light peeked through the window, making it look extra warm.
"It's finally here. I breathed a sigh of relief and helped my grandmother into the house.
Grandma looked at me gratefully and said, "Girl, thank you so much. If it weren't for you today, I'm afraid my old bones would have been confessed on that path. ”
I smiled and said, "Grandma, you're so polite. But what secret is hidden in that path?"
Grandma sighed and was silent for a while before she slowly spoke: "That path is actually a legend in our village. Once upon a time, it was a battlefield where countless warriors died. It is said that their resentment has always haunted the land, and whenever night falls, they make strange noises, as if calling for something. ”
I couldn't help but feel creepy, but I thought it was just a legend and there was no need to panic. So, I said goodbye to my grandmother and set out on the way home.
However, when I walked that path again, I realized that things were not so simple. The strange sounds rang out again, and they were clearer and more terrifying than before. It was as if I heard the roars and wails of the warriors, as if I had seen the tragic scenes of their death on the battlefield.
I was terrified and ran as fast as I could, just trying to get out of this horrible place as quickly as possible. I don't know how I got home, I just breathe a sigh of relief the moment I stepped through the door.
Later, I told the village elders about it. After hearing this, they all showed solemn expressions, and told me that the path was indeed not smooth, and it would be better to walk as little as possible in the future.
I haven't walked that path since. Every time I think about that horrible night and those strange sounds, I feel a palpitation. But I've also learned a truth: it's better not to know some things, because some secrets are better kept secret.
As the days passed, I gradually forgot the fear that the incident had brought me. However, one day, news suddenly came from the village: Grandma had passed away.
I was shocked and hurried to my grandmother's house. There I saw the portrait of my grandmother and the sorrow that filled the house. I didn't know what to say to comfort my grandmother's family, so I could only stand there silently expressing my grief.
At Grandma's funeral, I heard a lot about Grandma's past and her connection to the path, and it seemed that everything was beginning to become clear, but it seemed to be more confusing.
It turned out that Grandma's husband disappeared on that path, and she searched for him all her life without finding his whereabouts, and she herself had encountered countless dangers on that path, but she never gave up looking for her husband.
I suddenly understood why Grandma was so afraid of that path, and why she had warned me not to take it, because it had swallowed not only her husband, but almost herself.
After the funeral, I walked home alone, and I couldn't help but feel a lot of emotion: my grandmother had been looking for her husband all her life, but in the end, and although I had escaped the catastrophe, the shadow in my heart could not be erased.
It dawned on me that there are some things that cannot be solved by running away, because avoiding them will only make us more fearful and uneasy, and only by facing them bravely can we find a solution to the problem.
So, I decided to go down that path again to find out the mystery of the warriors' grievances and the disappearance of Grandma's husband, hoping to do something for Grandma and find answers for myself.
When I set foot on that path again, there was still a little fear in my heart, but more determination and determination, and I knew that I could no longer run away, and that I could only find the answer by facing it bravely.
I walked slowly along the path, and those strange sounds sounded again, but this time I did not run away, but listened and felt quietly, as if I could hear the call of the warriors and the message of my grandmother's husband from those voices.
I don't know how long I walked, but at the end of the path, where there was an old ancestral hall with a stone tablet carved with vague words and patterns on it.
When I looked closer, I found that the words and patterns were related to the warriors, who had been built to commemorate the warriors who had died in battle, and that the stone tablets were engraved with their names and deeds.
It dawned on me that the path was the only way for the warriors to return home, and that their grievances haunted the land after they died, and that Grandma's husband was one of them, and that he had not disappeared, but had returned to his former battlefield and to his brothers who had fought side by side.
Thinking of this, I couldn't help but burst into tears, admiring Grandma's perseverance and courage, and mourning and regretting for the warriors who died in battle.
I knelt in front of the stele and prayed silently, remembering as if I could hear their responses and blessings.
When I stood up, I suddenly found that I was no longer afraid, because I knew that the warriors were not harming innocent people, they were just guarding their homes and brotherhood.
Since then, I have not heard strange noises on the path, but I know that they have been there silently guarding and waiting, and I will pass on their stories so that more people can know their bravery and sacrifice.
The secret of the mountain road
After leaving the ancestral hall, I had mixed feelings in my heart, but my footsteps involuntarily stepped on the path again. This time, I walked very slowly, and every step was heavy, as if I could feel the weight of history in every step.
As night fell, the old trees on both sides of the path loomed in the night, as if the warriors who had died in battle were guarding the land. A gust of wind blew, the leaves rustled, and I seemed to hear the old war drums and the shouts of the warriors again.
Suddenly, an old voice sounded in my ears: "Young man, why are you still walking alone on this path in the dead of night?"
I looked around, but there was no one in sight. Just as I was wondering, the voice sounded again: "No need to look for it, I'm here." ”
I followed the sound and saw an old man in ancient costume sitting on a large rock on the side of the road. His beard was white, and his eyes were deep, as if he could penetrate everything.
"Who are you?" I asked tentatively.
"I am the guardian of this path and the voice of these warriors who died in battle. The old man said slowly, "I have guarded here for hundreds of years, and I have witnessed too many life and death partings and joys and sorrows. ”
I was shocked and couldn't believe my ears. But looking at the old man's expression and tone, it didn't look like he was joking.
"Do you know where Grandma's husband is?" I asked cautiously.
The old man smiled slightly and pointed to the ancestral hall behind him: "He is right there, with his brothers." ”
I looked in the direction of his finger and saw the lights of the ancestral hall flickering in the night, as if to tell something.
He had been looking for his wife, but he had never been able to do so. The old man continued, "Until he met you, he felt the warmth and kindness in you, so he chose to let you know the secret. ”
It dawned on me that Grandma's husband had always been by her side, but she didn't know it. And because of a chance encounter, I became a bridge between them.
"Then why are you telling me this?" I asked curiously.
The old man took a deep breath and his gaze became firm: "Because the time has come, this secret should be known by more people." Those brave men who died in battle should not be forgotten, and their sacrifices and efforts should be remembered. ”
I nodded, my heart full of respect and emotion. This path and ancestral hall not only witness the changes of history and the sacrifice of warriors, but also carry too many thoughts and waiting.
"Thank you for telling me this. I said gratefully, "I will pass on this story so that more people know about their bravery and sacrifice." ”
The old man smiled and nodded, "Very good, young man, your mission has been accomplished. Now, you can leave the trail in peace. ”
I stood up, bowed deeply, and turned to leave. When I set foot on the road home again, there was no fear and confusion in my heart, only full of respect and emotion.
When I got home, I told the story to the elders in the village. After hearing this, they all showed solemn expressions, and they all said that they would rebuild the ancestral hall and the path to commemorate the warriors who died in the battle and the husband of the grandmother.
Soon after, the ancestral hall was renovated and expanded, and the path was paved with bluestone slabs and planted with flowers and trees, and together they became a historical and cultural attraction that attracts countless tourists to visit and remember.
And every time I walk down that path, I feel deeply the bravery and sacrifice of those warriors, and I silently pray and bless them, and I am proud and proud to be a part of this story.
Over time, the story gradually spread in the village and became a good story, and the path and ancestral hall became a business card for our village, allowing more people to understand the history and culture of our village.
However, on the very night when the temple was renovated, I dreamed again of the old man, who smiled and said to me, "You have done a good job, young man, and now I will leave this path and go in search of my own destiny." ”
I woke up and was filled with regret and reluctance, but I knew that everyone has their own mission and responsibilities and that I have fulfilled my mission.
I have never dreamed of that old man since, but I know that he has been silently guarding our village and the path, and I will pass on his story to more people about the bravery and sacrifice of those warriors......
A few years later, I became a well-known historian and folklorist, and the path and the ancestral hall became one of my research subjects, and I learned more about that history and the heroic deeds of the warriors through in-depth research and excavation, and I also wrote a biography of my grandmother and her husband to commemorate their love and perseverance......
Every time I stand in front of the ancestral hall and look at the path, I will feel an inexplicable feeling of emotion and respect in my heart, as if I can see the figures of those warriors fighting bravely and the picture of my grandmother's husband waiting for me......
And I will always guard this story and this history so that they will be passed on forever......
Suddenly, one day, a young scholar approached me. He was very interested in the story of the path and the ancestral hall, and hoped to work with me to dig out more historical details. I looked at his passionate face, as if I saw my younger self. So, I agreed to his request and took him back on the path.
As we walked, I told the stories of the warriors, the legendary love between Grandma and her husband. The young scholars listened with great interest and from time to time put forward their own opinions and questions. We were walking and walking, and suddenly, he exclaimed, "Look, what is this?"
I looked in the direction of his finger and saw a corner of a stone tablet peeking out of the grass by the side of the road. We carefully peeled through the grass to reveal the complete stone monument. The stele was engraved with some vague words, and upon closer examination, we found that these words actually recorded the names and deeds of the warriors who died in battle, including the name of the grandmother's husband.
This discovery excites us because it gives us more direct historical evidence. We decided to transport the stele back to the village and place it in front of the ancestral hall as a permanent memorial to those warriors.
With the help of the villagers, we transported the stele back to the village and held a solemn laying ceremony. Since then, the stele has become a beautiful scenery in front of the ancestral hall, attracting countless tourists to visit and remember.
And the trail is becoming more and more lively, not only with tourists coming to visit, but also with scholars coming to study and dig up more historical details. The flowers and trees on both sides of the path are also becoming more and more luxuriant, as if they are guarding the heroic spirits of those warriors.
I watched all this change, and my heart was filled with relief and pride. Because I know that I have fulfilled my mission and let more people know about that history and the heroic deeds of those brave men. And that path and ancestral hall will forever become a calling card of our village, inheriting the heritage of history and culture.