Unlocked courtyard with shallow soil layer

Author: Wang Meng / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-05-01
Features: Besides my current annoyance, everything on this early autumn evening field was so wonderful and harmonious! The setting sun gilded the tops of the willow trees swaying gently on both sides of the road, and through the competing, dense branches, it danced and scattered onto the surface of the rushing irrigation canal, preparing for winter wheat planting. The canal water became bright and lively. Along the canal and roadside, amidst the lush autumn grass, the necks of goats or donkeys occasionally lifted, their demeanor becoming dignified and noble due to their full bellies and leisure.
On the highway, heavy trucks occasionally passed by, with the orange, increasingly clear and tangible setting sun sliding across their windshields. On the other side of the forest belt, a shepherd boy wearing a tilted hard hat herded the self-raised dairy cows back to the village for the members he was substituting for. As they neared "home," the cows frolicked, bellowing and energetically swaying their bellies and plump buttocks, kicking up clouds of dust.
The road and the other side of the forest belt were vast and tranquil fields. The corn stood like a group of graceful young ladies, holding hands together, emitting a damp, fragrant, slightly pungent, and intoxicatingly fresh scent in the crisp autumn wind. Next to the cornfield was a large expanse of alfalfa, modestly bowing its face, dyed with patches of dark red and purplish-yellow. The third harvest had already begun, and the ground swept by the scythe was scattered with cups of hay, emitting a warm, sweet, and cozy aroma.
The earth remained silent yet its changes were fixed. It was the time when day and night, summer and autumn, dry and wet, heat and cold alternated. The air, temperature, dust, and everything in the field rose and fell, spun and rested.
We sat around the field and forest, sheltered by the dense autumn grass, immersed in the tranquil golden twilight. In the open space among us, there was a bottle of premium "Yili Daqu." On a handkerchief lay a scallion and a few sugar cubes—this was the drink and food, and there was also a carefully polished bicycle bell cover—this was the cup.
My younger brother was lost in an unusual excitement. At first, my arrival made him flustered; he looked at me timidly, pleading. Yet even then, he did not forget to express his admiration and infatuation with the stranger opposite him through his eyes, his posture, and his expression.
This young man, with a slightly worn-out dombra on his lap, seemed familiar to me. Tall, slightly thin, with a strong frame, curly hair, high, prominent brow and nose, thick and long eyebrows, flat and long, upturned eyes, and light brown eyes that held a strange tenderness and contemplative hue—his gaze was heroic yet gentle, as if fixed on the distance.
Originally, I had come to pour out a long stream of complaints and reprimands, like a floodgate full of water on the verge of bursting. But it was this gaze that held me back. Reluctantly, I sat down in response to their courtesy.
My younger brother picked up the bottle, struck a match, lit the sealed membrane, and set it alight, burning it clean. Then, using his teeth, he opened the cork and poured a small amount into the bicycle bell cover, glancing at my stern face before hastily sipping it. Then, he poured half a "bowl" into the bell cover and respectfully handed it to the stranger.
The stranger took the drink from my younger brother, raised it high, and, according to custom, asked, "May I drink?"
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