瑶鹰《会吸骨的父亲》

According to the Miluotuo Ancient Song, the Yao ethnic group traces its lineage back to Chi You. The Luoli Ancient City mentioned in the song was the capital of Chi You's tribe. The leader Asheng of the Jiuli tribe, as referenced in the song, is believed to be Chi You himself in historical records. The historical narrative in the music, where the emperors Yan and Huang attacked Luoli Ancient City, captured and executed Asheng, and caused the Jiuli tribe to flee, aligns closely with the story of Chi You. Following the Tuoluo incident, my father, Aling, became a highly respected child prodigy among the Bunu Yao in our region.

From age four, my father played a significant role in singing and preserving the Miluotuo Ancient Song.

My uncle said my father had mastered the Miluotuo Ancient Song by age six. This ancient song, which takes seven days and nights to perform, was memorised by my young father, seemingly through some unknown spiritual strength. During my early childhood, our home was filled with people every night. They gathered around the three-legged stove, listening intently as my father, Aling, sang the Miluotuo Ancient Song. The flickering firelight cast a glow on every eager and curious face. Perhaps the reason the Miluotuo Ancient Song has been preserved for millennia is not only due to the dedication and love shown by some individuals but also because of a mysterious force that upholds the essence of this ethnic group. Otherwise, a people without a written language could not have kept a seven-day-and-night oral scripture solely through human memory. My father, Aling, must have received some spiritual inspiration; otherwise, as a six-year-old child, he could not have mastered such an ancient and lengthy oral scripture.

My father was adept at singing the ancient Miluotuo Song and mastered the twelve bronze drum rhythms of the Bunu Yao. According to Bunu Yao legends, anyone who could skillfully sing the Miluotuo Song and master the twelve drum rhythms would inherit the extraordinary medical skills of Asheng's younger brother, the leader of the Jiuli tribe, believed to be the ancestor of Yao medicine and witchcraft. Whether true or not, my father, who learned the Miluotuo Song at six, demonstrated this belief through his actions when he was sixteen.

One night that year, my father had an unusual dream. He saw an older man with flowing white hair placing something inside a bamboo segment near a hut. As the older man turned to leave, he noticed my father peering from a corner. Smiling, the older man blew a white, ethereal breath toward my father.

My father woke abruptly from the dream and noticed that the top wrapped around his waist was glowing with a divine green light. He suddenly recalled that when he was three, the same older man had taken him into the bamboo forest and told him about a magical top hidden in a bamboo segment.

The following morning, as dawn broke, a heart-wrenching cry echoed from the neighbour Meng's house. Villagers rushed to the scene, including my father. Inside, Meng was cradling his eleven-year-old son, who was writhing in pain. The child's mother was in tears. The boy had choked on a chicken bone from a meal he found in the cupboard. In those days, without hospitals or surgery, such an incident could be fatal for the Yao people living in the mountains.

Moved by compassion, my sixteen-year-old father stepped forward and took the child in his arms. "Uncle Meng, please prepare three sticks of incense, a bowl of clear water, and a pair of chopsticks. Let me see if I can help."

The Meng family could only hope for a miracle with no other options. My father was already revered in the village as possessing divine abilities, so they trusted his words.

My father dipped the small top he always carried into a bowl of clear water. He then lit three incense sticks, placing two on either side of the door and holding the third in his hand. With his eyes half-closed, he chanted incantations and drew a series of mystical symbols on the water's surface. After a brief moment, he opened his eyes, scooped up some water with a spoon, and poured it into the child's mouth. The onlookers, craning their necks like ducks, watched silently, fearing any noise might disrupt my father's ritual. My father then took a pair of chopsticks, placing one end on the child's throat and the other in his mouth. Concentrating intensely, he sucked on the solid chopsticks with all his might. Moments later, he removed the chopsticks from his mouth and expelled a piece of chicken bone, about the size of a small bean, which clattered onto the wooden floor.

"Ah Liang is saved, Ah Liang is saved!" the crowd erupted in cheers.

From that day on, my father mastered the ancient bone-setting and healing techniques of the Bunu Yao people. He recounted that he had a sudden and vivid dream the night before. Upon waking, he felt a newfound power within him, a power that was astonishingly confirmed the following day. In a harmonious blend of fate and skill, the boy he saved later married my father's sister, my Aunt Man, as a gesture of gratitude. That boy is now my uncle by marriage, Meng Laoliang. Whenever he speaks of my father, Uncle Meng Laoliang's eyes light up with admiration. He often tells me that my father, A-Ling, used this technique to save over twenty people with objects stuck in their throats, including several Zhuang brothers.