玛波《村官来电》

Zao Kun glared at the Hummer that had already ascended the mountain slope of Longteng, his heart seething with anger. His drunken eyes hazily followed Deng La as she took the seat he had just vacated, leaving with someone else. The sight felt like hundreds of thorns stabbing his heart, causing immense discomfort. As the car disappeared into the Longteng mountains, he burped loudly from the alcohol, furrowed his thick eyebrows a few times, and devised another plan. He went to the teak forest across the riverbank, leaned against a sturdy tree, and retrieved a phone directory from his bag. With a shaky hand, he dialled Fang Yan's number.

"Hello, who is it?" Fang Yan's voice came through, her round waist pinched as she answered the phone next to the pool in her villa.

"It's Uncle Wu. You didn't go home with Yang Dafa, and your rival Tu Yang has returned. Your husband and his friends have gone to Kaibangya Lake for fun."

"Uncle Wu, I told you, this damn Yang Dafa! The county leader invited him, but he didn’t dress up formally. Yet today, he’s all dressed up nicely to meet his old flame. Uncle Wu, this Tu Yang has been a demon tormenting my heart since the day I married into the Yang family. I've cried myself dry over her, broken my heart countless times. Today, it's time to give Yang Dafa back to her and reclaim my happiness. Uncle Wu, thank you for informing me. I must properly thank you!" Fang Yan hung up the phone, excitedly patted her head, and returned to the main room. She looked at the black-and-white photo of Tu Yang, smiling with long hair flowing down her shoulders, hanging next to the portrait of her ancestors. She whispered, "Tu Yang, you transferred your misfortunes to me, and I've suffered countless insults because of you. Today, you must give me back my happiness. How do I go back? It's not good to go empty-handed, and bringing gifts seems meaningless. Right, I'll carry a gift basket. The Jingpo people value gift baskets the most. I'll ask the owner of Bansehua Restaurant to prepare one for me."

The blue-green surface of the lake emerged from amidst dozens of hilltops. Under the gentle breeze, white waves chased each other in rows towards the small hills: several Jingpo women skillfully paddled bamboo rafts alone, fishing and collecting nets. Tu Yang pointed at the fishermen and said, "Deng Lara, the Jingpo people have farmed with knives and fire for generations, never considering becoming fishermen. However, the Husong River Power Station has changed its destiny. They put down their hoes and machetes, tied up bamboo rafts, and became fishermen. You are the same. You never thought of becoming the leader of the village group, but circumstances have altered your fate. The history of the Jingpo people is almost carried on the backs of women, so our heads still have to bear the heavy responsibility of history. It would be best if you adapted to fate. Now, you're no longer Zao Kun's wife but the leader of the entire Longteng village. What do you want to do most now?"

"I don't know yet," Deng Lara replied, confused.

"Alright, the youth are our future. To keep them away from drugs, we need to capture their hearts and provide an environment for learning and entertainment. First, organise the youth and establish cultural arts, basketball, agricultural technology, and night school groups. Keep them too busy to come into contact with drugs."

"Ah!" Deng Lara screamed as the spray from the fast-turning speedboat splashed her. The scream made her feel a lot more relaxed. "Yes, our village already has a Wenbang band. Let's reorganize them."

"I'll draft a request for funds for holding a series of cultural activities for the youth tonight and take you to the County Propaganda Department to ask for money the day after tomorrow."

"Really?" Deng Lara excitedly reached out and hugged Tu Yang's neck tightly. "I knew you could help me!"

"What's with the force?" Yang Dafa removed his jacket and draped it over Tu Yang's head, saying, "The sun is too strong; cover up a bit."

The woman paddling the bamboo raft noticed the speedboat approaching and steered to the opposite side. Yang Dafa signalled for the speedboat to slow down and waved at the woman to stop. She paused and asked if he wanted to buy fish. Yang Dafa inquired if she had any, and the woman replied that she had a basketful of fish and half a basket of shrimp. He then requested that she bring the fish and shrimp to the shore, as he intended to buy them all. When Yang Dafa asked about the price, the woman estimated it would be several hundred yuan, though they would need to weigh them to be specific. Yang Dafa responded, "Don't bother weighing them. Is a thousand yuan enough?" The woman happily agreed.

After circling the lake a few times, they returned to the starting point. Yang Dafa instructed the fish seller to separate the fish and shrimp into large plastic bags, paid her, and left. On the way, Yang Dafa told Tu Yang, "Let's stay at the Dafa Hotel in the county town."

"I don't need to stay at a hotel if I'm going home," Tu Yang replied, absentmindedly staring out the car window, pondering how to encourage Deng Larui to improve production.

Arriving at the peak of Longteng Mountain, they gazed out towards the distant east, where the Daying River emerged from the mountains, gradually swelling as it flowed downstream. Blocked by Tiger Leap Gorge, it converged into a vast river between Mangyun and Nongzhang. The afterglow of the setting sun reflected on the Daying River, its waters shimmering with a golden hue.第34章 仫佬族：桐雨《我的村庄》

On my way home, a villager approached me, inquiring if I still had photographs of his old house from over a decade ago. A faint sense of unease crept into my mind. What was I uneasy about? Was it the new houses sprouting up one after another? Or the growing number of unfamiliar faces and fresh energies? I didn’t know them, and they didn’t know me. It was a feeling of familiarity mixed with strangeness. In that moment, I finally comprehended the sentiments and heartfelt touches expressed in the poem "Returning to My Homeland" by the Tang Dynasty poet He Zhizhang. It was a kind of indescribable sadness. I began to reexamine my village.

My village is one of the birthplaces of the Mulao ethnic group and one of its largest settlements. From the ruins of the four gate towers, one can see that each tower had its jurisdiction area, with houses clustered on both sides and tall city walls built around them. The four gate towers were arranged in a staggered pattern, each set slightly inward from the last, forming a series of concentric rings, barriers designed to resist external enemies.

On the stone walls of the gate towers, there were traces of long-term wear and tear from coarse fences. The chiselled holes in the porch indicated that each gate must have had triple reinforcement and be horizontally secured, making it difficult for anyone to crash through. Blue stone-carved lion statues stood guard before the gate tower, exuding a sense of majesty.

Walking through the quiet village lanes, you will notice an interesting phenomenon: all the old houses have small holes in the wall facing the road and the front door. In those turbulent times, the purpose of such a design was apparent. Looking up, you will find that these old houses have calligraphy and paintings under the eaves. Some copied "The Poem of the Pavilion of Prince Teng" and "The Inscription of the Humble Room," while others bore phrases like, "Goodness is like a pine tree, evil is like a flower; the pine tree is indifferent and not as charming as a flower. But when a heavy frost falls, only the pine tree remains, and the flower disappears..." Some even contained couplet-like poetry. The date inscribed under one eave was "the year of Gengwu," but whether it was 1750, 1810, or 1870 is unknown. Besides calligraphy, some also had paintings depicting pavilions, flowing streams, carp playing in the water, and birds and flowers singing together. The most distinctive pattern was the phoenix wings with flowers flying, which is also common in embroidery. Suddenly, these old houses seemed so beautiful, with blue bricks and black tiles, colourful and solemn, exuding a unique charm.

The most prominent feature of the old houses is the hearth on either side of the main room's door. As early as the Jiaqing period of the Ming Dynasty, Tian Rucheng's "Yan Jiao Ji Wen" recorded that the Mulao people "dug the ground to make a stove and burned white coal." To build a hearth, one had to dig three feet into the ground and construct a square shape with fire bricks. Three or four small finger-sized steel bars were placed as a stone bridge at the bottom. A covered earthenware jar was buried next to the stove to hold water, ensuring a hot water supply throughout the year. A stove compartment was set at the rear of the stove to store the remaining coal residue. Children often stuck their feet into the stove compartment in winter to keep warm. Of course, meals were also prepared on the hearth. Especially in winter, the whole family gathered around the stove, enjoying a joy-filled hot pot.

Mulao prefers a light diet and primarily consumes porridge and sour foods. Particularly for breakfast and lunch, they often enjoy porridge paired with sour ingredients, preceding the need for additional dishes. Each household typically possesses several sour pots containing various fermented ingredients such as garlic, radishes, beans, and knife beans. When combined with chilli peppers, these ingredients create a tangy, crisp, and spicy flavour that is highly appetising. Only at dinner do they dine more formally. During festivals and holidays, dinner usually includes chicken, duck, fish, and meat. After cooking, the food is placed on the table as an offering to the ancestors, accompanied by five cups of wine, five bowls of rice, and ten pairs of chopsticks, forming a complete setting. Three incense sticks are burned on the altar, and one is placed at each door. Wine is then offered periodically, and the ritual concludes after three rounds of offerings, expressing gratitude for the ancestors' benevolence.

Reverence for ancestors and respect for divine spirits are deeply ingrained in the village culture. Ancestral temples and shrines dedicated to various gods are typical, with the Goddess of Fertility and Child Protection receiving the highest reverence. Whenever a child reaches a whole month, a pilgrimage is made to worship her. After the ceremony, candies and zongzi (glutinous rice dumplings) are distributed to those encountered, sharing the joy and gratitude for her blessings. This scene rivals, if not surpasses, the image of Santa Claus distributing gifts.

The Yifan Festival is the most solemn and unique sacrificial event for the Mulao people. According to historical records, this festival originated in 1386 and was intended to pray for disaster relief, the prosperity of people and livestock, and abundant harvests. During the Yifan Festival, Taoist priests are invited to perform rituals in the ancestral temple, with singing and dancing continuing for three days and nights. The complexity of the sacrificial activities and the rich religious significance highlights the culmination of the Mulao ethnic group's spiritual beliefs. 2006, this festival was included in the first batch of national-level intangible cultural heritage lists.

The Mulao people are skilled in singing and dancing and lead simple lives. It is said that "the colour of their clothing favours blue." During significant festivals or weddings, men wear blue jackets with front buttons, while women wear blue jackets with slanted buttons. They gather on hillsides or under large trees to "walk the slopes" and sing folk songs to express their deepest thoughts. Folk songs are typically sung in duets by two men and two women, each pair having a lead singer and a harmony singer. One sings the lyrics while the other whispers and harmonises, creating a duet. Each song consists of four lines, alternating rises and falls in tone, producing a harmonious and pleasant sound.

The production process of their blue jackets involves an additional step compared to other ethnic costumes—polishing, which makes the fabric shiny, attractive, and durable. My neighbour owns a polishing workshop, and I often visit to watch the process. The entire toolset consists of three differently shaped bluestones. A flat and smooth square bluestone is embedded in the floor, with a sizeable yuan bao-shaped stone placed on top. A stick-like stone, as large as a calf's leg and smooth as glass, is sandwiched between the square bluestone and the yuanbao stone. During polishing, the fabric is laid on the square bluestone, and then one steps on both ends of the yuan bao stone while holding onto a rope loop on the crossbeam. The stick-like stone rolls back and forth under the push of the yuanbao stone, gradually making the fabric shine.

As time passes and the world evolves, I firmly believe that no matter how swiftly time moves, as long as one holds onto one's convictions and preserves one's original nature, only the years will pass. The village will continue to narrate its ancient stories!