The train struggled to push away the air, the window was an impenetrable wilderness, occasionally flashed out of a few color steel houses, I knew that it was into Inner Mongolia, the familiar Umeng dialect sounded, it was jinning, the next stop was Hohhot station, 22 hours of driving did not sleep for a few hours, now excited fidgeting. After getting off the train and stepping on this land again, I found that the sky was blue, the clouds were white, the sun was really bright, and I didn't leave here, you don't know, how kind it is here.
I took the shuttle bus from Hoshi to Toxian County, and the building outside the window was full of yurt elements, which I didn't know when walking on the street before. When the car walked out of the city, a vast field opened up in front of me, the loess white grass in late autumn, the loess with thousands of ravines and undulating, the white grass scattered dots, and the blue sky in the distance. The sun was big and bright, and the air was transparent as if it didn't exist, and the sun in the car was warm. After crossing the Yellow River, the scenery outside the window is another view, the crops have long been ripe, and the endless plain is overgrown with corn, sunflowers, etc., lush and green, and dotted with pieces of gold and dots of light red and deep red. The breath of autumn has filled the earth.
Tocto County Station arrived, got off the train, I recognized at a glance the shuttle bus in our village, rotten too conspicuous, white paint residue, rust stains, the door open, the boarding steps are covered with dry mud, the car dust is sandwiched with blue smoke, the smell is bad. I got into the car, and the old farmer was smoking a sweat cigarette, chatting with the offspring of the neighboring seat about the crops, and each seat could not see its true color, it was dark, and the dust spilled out of the window cracks. I picked a seat against the window and fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, there were endless cornfields on both sides of the road, all dead, and we had nine droughts in ten years, and this year's crops were drowned in most of them, which was sad to watch. The car was getting more and more bumpy, I knew that it was about to go back to the village, the dust behind the car was flying, everyone could not sit steadily, it must have been on the dirt road leading to the village, the crops outside the window were even more crooked, the uncle of the cattle cart was smoking sweat smoke, carrying the poor half truck of corn, giving way to us, the uncle who drove the tractor in front of him shook with the car ups and downs, his wife sat on the body of the car full of corn cobs, and there was no expression on her dark face, which could be imagined this year's harvest.
Finally came home, pushed open the gate, the yard was full of all kinds of sounds, as before, a flock of geese probed the neck, swaying and swaying "quacking" cries; a few chickens leisurely foraging in the yard, looking left and right, from time to time with their paws to plane a planing of soil, a nest of full moon piglets humming and chasing the sows, forcing the sows to turn around; two goats raised their heads, stared at me and whined passionately, they were hungry; the old black dogs basking in the sun came to sniff me listlessly, turned their heads and left. I took a deep breath, and it was the smell of dung in the yard, the smell of nature. Walking into the house, there was a pig food bowl on the corner floor of the doorway, and some quickly dried corn paste was scattered on the side, the sewing machine on the right, a few stupid large sofas on the left, and the two stupid large cabinets in front of me, all covered with dust. Turning into the middle, a large kang squeezed the corner of the ground to allow only two people to stand side by side, a green color TV broadcast advertisements, and the faucet with the water meter was dripping water into the big black urn, ding-dong. From time to time, the stove fire reached out to visit the stove, and the black pot made a hissing sound of boiling water. Obviously, my mother had just gone out, and there was a sound of opening the gate, and I looked up at the gate, and it was a big-bellied sow who arched the door, followed by a mouthful of sows, and then my mother came back, she closed the door, grabbed a handful of grass in the south room, threw it in the yard and shouted "come and go", all the livestock in the yard were crowded over, and she rushed home. As soon as I entered the door, my mother saw me, her tanned red face showed a smile, she smiled very happily, a few white lines on her face, it was a wrinkle, and my mother said: "Whose son is back", in her eyes I will always be a child.
The next day, my mother got up at half past five, made a fire, boiled water, fed the animals, and when I got up, she had already gone to the field, and at twelve o'clock in the afternoon, she came back with a bundle of grass, and after feeding the animals, it was more than a little. Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival in 2012, my mother still has to make some good dishes, she caught a chicken to kill, made a fire and faded her hair, chatted with me while drying, I could always hear her hearty laughter, and it was stewed until more than four o'clock. We had just finished eating, the bowl had not yet been brushed, and my mother was about to feed the animals again, and it was not until seven o'clock that she was completely busy, and her feet could leave the ground and sit for a while. There was no cooking in the evening, and my mother and I ate the rest of the chicken hot. Sitting on the kang, my mother's knees began to hurt, and the pain could not be bent, so she sucked the fire can and asked me about the school, and we slept at ten o'clock. At three o'clock in the middle of the night, my mother suddenly got up and began to get dressed, and I asked, "Mom, what are you doing?" "The pig has fallen," she said, and went to the yard. In the morning I woke up, my mother had not yet returned, I got dressed and went to the yard, I saw my mother in the pigsty, her hair was full of dust, crouched next to the sow to smooth each piglet, two rows of twelve little pigs with nipples, afraid to eat, "Mom, you go back to sleep for a while, I will show you" I said, the mother is tired, she got up and said: "Don't always look, when the big pig turns over, you protect the piglet, wait for the big pig to lie down and then let it feed, I go to boil some porridge, put it on fire." "I took care of it step by step, or was crushed to death of a pig cub, when pulled out from under the sow's body was already soft, the mother ran over, put the paralyzed piglet in her arms to warm it, from time to time with the mouth to do artificial respiration, but its body finally stiffened, the mother still reluctantly touched it, this year there is no grain in the field, all rely on the income of these few piglets, her eyes are full of pain.
After the holidays, I carried my bag back to school, my mother no longer settled me in high school, and told me along the way: "Cross the road to see the car, don't go to the water, don't run around, safety is the most important." Back in school, no matter how extravagant, impetuous, and happy the classmates around me are, I can still read and exercise with peace of mind, and every time I go home, my heart is more real, more stable, like a baptism of the soul. Once I was humbled for being a child of the countryside, now I feel fortunate that I am the son of a peasant family, and the industriousness, pragmatism and simplicity given to me by the farmers of the yellow land are the wealth of my life.