The night in the countryside is a paradise for the croppers. Cow roars, snoring like airplanes, is the music of the night. How long the night is, how long the dream of the cropper is.
Born in an agricultural cooperative, I will never forget the scene of men sleeping together in the middle of the street. It was a wheat field where the wheat was milled and the work was harvested. At sunset and the moon rises, after dinner, people pull quilts and go to sleep in the wheat field. A huge wheat field, hugging a straw, spreading a stall along the ground, laying a quilt, is a big kang. Three or five piles, began to be heaven and earth north, the sea and the sky were wide. After a day's work, it seems to fly to the cloud of nine nights at once. The second uncle with a hairy beard, is talking about the Three Kingdoms, a veteran of the DaoShui Margin, as if he has an endless story in his stomach. I don't know if it was heard or made up, anyway, as soon as the lecture began, a group of light gourd babies would come around.
Big uncle Jinmu, full of belly meat strips. The older lad than us loves to listen to him the most.
Wang Meichao, Liu Dewa, two of the most popular fat people, often sit, listen, and pull up the bellows. One like a cow roaring, one like an airplane. Echoing is always disappointing. Therefore, someone grabbed a handful of wheat straw and slammed it into his mouth, and with a few groans, the whole place immediately returned to calm.
At that time, people were ashamed, and no one laughed at anyone. Often in the middle of the night, adults put burnt soybeans and hot morning bun sticks to their mouths, without squeaking, smelling, immediately get up, hug and eat.
The summer night of the agricultural cooperative is the world of the members. The captain opened one eye and closed one eye. The foodie of the production team, in the eyes of the members, is not called stealing. The women also went out at night, and the tender sprouts and fat alfalfa were the targets of their attacks. Half a bowl of balsamic vinegar, a handful of spicy noodles, plus salt, and eat with alfalfa. That taste, that hunger, is the original eating appearance of the country mother-in-law. In the confusion, the mother put the tender buds dipped in spicy water to the side of the mouth, smelled, tasted, and suddenly did not doze off. That kind of happy, satisfying appetite is still endlessly reminiscent.
The night in the countryside is a paradise for the croppers, and although they are poor, they make fun in their poverty. Hungry to hungry, they have their own way to fill their stomachs. On the wheat field, on the street, the sweet snoring, the long and short, the coarse, the thin, the tall, the low, with the water, with the nonsense. It was the collective chorus of the croppers, the music that didn't sleep in the country at night. Just like the march of the times, there are depressions, there are abrupt measures, and there are also good spirits.
From the big collective to the land alone, suddenly did not sleep in the wheat field Kang. The night in the country is actually a little unaccustomed. Even, wandering, confused, out of tune. Maybe it was material abundance, and at night, there was no longer a scene of shame for the stomach. The fast pace of the money society, and the wind of the West, the rain of the West, the popular songs, the popular dances, almost completely disrupted the notes of the country night. Quiet, sometimes so quiet that people are afraid, two next door, put a fart can be heard. Noisy, sometimes it is frightening, three more in the middle of the night, two mouths say to fight, just play a chaotic drum bang. The long snoring sound of the fat man Wang Meichao and Liu Dewa suddenly sounded like a long dry day, and the thunder could not be heard. When the price of fertilizer rises to a high price, and the price of grain falls like a daughter-in-law jumping into a well, at night in the countryside, the snoring of the crops is more flooded, and there is more intermittent nonsense. When the tide of the market economy rushed in, the croppers pounced on it in waves, fell down, and then pounced upwards, and in the night in the countryside, Uncle Shuanglin used to go to the hoe in the middle of the night with a hoe, and Brother Deshun once pulled a rack cart around the street, and the next day someone asked, but they didn't know anything...
The night in the countryside is the harbor of life for the countrymen. The snoring from the street is the music of the life of the croppers. How long they are, how long their dreams are.
(Original)