Many years later, my grandmother gave birth to six children, and my father was the youngest. The amulet was wrapped in a silk pouch and hung around his neck at birth. Decades passed, and it was passed down through generations until it reached me. When I was young, I was very mischievous, only five or six years old. I didnt think much of the amulet, but fortunately, it was wrapped in a silk pouch and tied with several red strings around my neck, so I didnt lose it. To be honest, I cherished the pouch, but once I traded it with a neighbors kid for a bag of candy. When I got home, my father found out and gave me a good scolding before taking five bucks to buy back the pouch from the kid. After getting it back, he hung it around my neck again and warned me that if I lost it again, he would beat me to death.
I originally wanted to tell my dad that he was wasting his money, a bag of jumping candy only cost 50 cents, but looking at my dads angry face, I didnt dare speak up. Just like this, more than ten years have passed. My grandfather passed away when I was in third grade, and I went to high school in a daze. I remember that I was 17 years old at the time, just entering second year of high school.
Because I was not good at studying, all day long I just knew how to scribble and draw randomly on my textbooks. My dad saw me like this, so after graduation he let me go to a vocational high school in our county to study art class. Originally, those who came to vocational high school were some people like me who cried and shouted as soon as they heard about going to school. Coming to this school was just to mix up a diploma, or if lucky, take the exam for a second-rate university.
The reason I went to high school was that my heart always fantasized about the short skirts those girls wore in summer, hehe. I believe many of my peers thought similarly, because the power of adolescent troubles is strong, and we were all living a rose-colored yet rotten three years of high school life.
But when I really got to high school, I found that many things were not satisfactory. There are beauties, and they are not in the minority. You have to accept that all good wives are taken by others. By the time we figured it out, we were already in our second year of high school. I realized that someone like me who has no money and isnt handsome should be grateful if he can find a girl who is neither beautiful nor ugly to experience his first love. But even after lowering my standards, I still ended up being single.
Its really embarrassing to talk about this, but there were eleven students in my art class. Only two of us were boys, and the other guy had a habit of speaking with a lisp, earning him the nickname "Yin Yang Person". Despite that, I still couldnt find someone special, you say Im unlucky, even though I look very ordinary and average, the type that blends into the crowd and cant be picked out. But with a ratio of nine to two, not one of them took a liking to me.
Luckily, my two art teachers were quite righteous. The first time I met a teacher who allowed us to smoke in class was these two. Old Jia, who taught sketching, and Old Zhang, who taught color theory, added up to almost 90 years old, but they still got drunk every day and gave us cigarettes after getting drunk. One afternoon during the sketching class, the principal passed by our painting room and found that we were drawing while eating melon seeds. Old Jia was drunk and reading "Jin Ping Mei" from the school library. The principal asked him to come out to talk, but Old Jia went out and slapped the principal twice before saying a word. The principal was stunned. When asked why he hit him, Old Jia only said one sentence: "I dont like your hypocrisy!" After that, he picked up his stool and rushed out. Luckily, the principal ran fast, and we pulled Old Jia back, telling him not to be impulsive and ruin his own rice bowl. Old Jia scolded and continued reading "Jin Ping Mei". However, after sobering up, he was afraid. He had to swallow his pride and apologize to the principal. The principal seemed to be scared by him and said it was nothing when Old Jia apologized. Old Jia was overjoyed when he heard that everything was fine. He insisted on inviting the principal to drink, but the principal refused to go, probably because he was afraid of being beaten up again by Old Jia after getting drunk. From then on, the principal never came to our painting room again, and we were happy to be carefree.
So we cant help but admire our teachers carefree personality. It makes me feel that even though I dont have a girlfriend, Im still happy with my simple life.
That was a summer, that morning Old Jia and Old Zhang told us eleven people, today we went to the suburbs for a day of sketching. As soon as I heard it, I was happy, people who have studied art know that generally speaking, summer and autumn are the most suitable seasons for outdoor sketching. But in name only, its actually going out to play and have fun. In the summer, there is a kind of watermelon in the suburbs, we just picked up a few, in the autumn, there is a kind of corn in the suburbs, we just picked up a few and roasted them. The ones who really painted were only a few, this was just an excuse to skip class. After hearing the news, the girls in the painting room were chirping with joy, Old Zhang called me and Yang Xu, also known as the "Yin Yang" guy, out and gave us money to empty our paint bags and buy some white wine, peanuts, sausage, seasoning and other things to take with us, and have a good drink at noon.
This canvas bag is used to hold the painting board, a bag can easily hold more than ten bottles of beer. So we went to the warehouse near the school to buy some, after selecting and purchasing, we carried the bulging bags to the bike shed, took out our bicycles and rode to the school gate. The girls from the painting room and two old guys were already waiting for us there. Our group then rode to a scenic spot by the river near the suburban dam.
The river is called the Bajiao River, a tributary of the Yarlung River. As its name suggests, it has many branches. Not far downstream is the Nenjiang River. Due to its clear water quality, even now there are still people who release turtles here to accumulate virtue. However, most of those released are just an excuse for themselves, because they release them upstream, and the fishermen downstream will cast their nets again and catch all the turtles. Then they sell them back to those who want to come here to release them. This river also has a local name, "Xiaobai Keng". According to old people, during the Republic of China era, there was a drought one year, and it didnt rain until July, when the water in the Bajiao River almost dried up. The crops of the common people were even more hopeless, basically ruined for the whole year, who knows how many people would leave their homes to escape the famine. On a day in August, suddenly there was a loud clap of thunder on a clear sky, and a white dragon fell from the sky. It is said that this caused quite a stir at the time, and villagers from all around came to see it.
It is said that when the dragon fell to the ground, it was already on its last breath. At that time, a man wearing a yellow hat appeared out of nowhere and said that this dragon was originally the water god in charge of this region, but had committed a heavenly crime and was demoted. It was already dying, and after saying so, he asked everyone to take some straw mats and wet them to cover it up first. Strangely, when people covered it, they found that it couldnt be covered at all, and the more they covered the dragons body, the longer it became. The man in yellow hurriedly said, "Dont cover one end, start from both ends." Indeed, this time it was covered up, and after covering it up, the dragon died. The man in yellow said again, "After all, this dragon is a divine object. Even if its dead, we must give it a water burial." So everyone beat gongs and drums and sent the dragon into the almost dry Bahe River. It was strange to say that as soon as the dragon entered the river, the sky became overcast with dark clouds, and then heavy rain poured down. The water level rose quickly and covered the dragons body. The people were overjoyed, thinking they had been saved, but when they looked for the man in yellow again, he was nowhere to be found. Later, people passed down that he was a god who came down to guide people through difficult times.
Because this river once buried a small white dragon. So from then on, the people called this river "Xiao Bai Keng". This is indeed a magical river, and there are many stories about this river, but these are all afterwords, let me tell you slowly later.
The air in the suburbs is very fresh, riding a bicycle, the highway on both sides is a lush green, unknown wildflowers are at their most beautiful time, the fragrance of flowers mixed with the scent of mud comes to greet you, feeling extremely comfortable.
I was listening to the guys next to me chatting with those girls, while Old Jia and Old Zhang were planning which massage parlor to go to tonight. I thought to myself, if only I had a girlfriend now, sitting on the back of my bike, holding me tight, matching this scenery, it would be so romantic. But when I turned back to reality, all I saw was a heavy canvas bag on the back seat.
Around noon, we arrived at the Ba Cha River. Old Jia and Old Zhang said to us: "Alright, girls collect your things, those who can draw will draw for a while, those who dont want to draw can disperse and engage in free activities. Dont go into the water, dont wander off too far. Boys gather your belongings and prepare to cook."
When I heard him say that, Yang Xu and I were unhappy. In this class, we two have no rights as men except to be slaves. So I said seriously to Old Zhang: "Teacher Zhang, arent we here to learn how to live? Surrounded by such beautiful nature, I also want to paint! Can you understand my strong desire for art at this moment?"
Old Jia was straightforward, and with a kick on my butt, he said, "Draw an egg, when did you ever draw one? Dont I know you? Hurry up and catch some frogs for me!" Old Jia scolded.
I was speechless, covering my butt with Yang Xu and starting to look for a small stream by the river. I thought to myself, it turns out that Old Jia is not stupid after all. He actually saw through my trick so easily.
Old Jia had us catch a type of frog that wasnt the common bullfrog, but rather a type found in small streams by the river. When roasted over fire, they were delicious and tender. They made for great accompaniment to wine. In June and July, it was their breeding season, and there were staggering numbers of them. To catch them, we had to use a trick: after taking off our shoes and wading into the water, wed stir up the stream or puddle, causing the water to become murky. The frogs hiding under rocks or in the sand would be startled and jump out. At this point, we wouldnt immediately grab for them, but rather wait until they calmed down, then quickly snatch them. This way, we were almost guaranteed success. After catching them, wed toss them onto the shore with force, killing them instantly.
