Desert Wolf Child

Author: Guo Xuebo / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-01-01
Features: A male wolf has been eliminated for half a month. The village is quiet, with no more wolf-related incidents. The female wolf must have fled far away, too scared to bother them again. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret—how did the female wolf spare Huluama and the others? Could Grandpa Mahaling really be lying to me? But I was relieved to raise my white-eared wolf cub in the cellar. Fed with millet porridge and vegetable soup, it grew round and plump. In the dim cellar, whenever I came back from school, it would wag its tail happily and nudge my hands with its wet mouth, making them itchy. Sometimes I’d take it outside to see the sun. Its small eyes would squint shut, and it’d whine and squawk. Once placed on the kang bed, my younger brother would play with it, hugging and gnawing at each other like long-lost brothers. Now, taking the cub back was difficult. Little Long would cry and scream, "Dog, dog, want dog," causing chaos at home. Mom’s broom handle would land on my head, scolding me for raising a wild animal, and my younger brother was almost turning into a wolf cub too. As I scrambled away, I couldn’t forget to snatch back the white-eared cub and lock it back in the cellar, chaining it with a small iron chain. Its small copper ring on the neck flashed faintly in the dark. I remembered Grandpa Mahaling and went to his house after dinner. He was delighted to see me. Sitting on a mounded earthen bench by the door, the afterglow of the setting sun made his toothless mouth look like a gaping black hole. "Grandson of the old 'Lu,' what’s new? Did you bring wolf meat?" His pale tongue stirred in the black hole, making it hard for him to speak. I took out two steamed buns filled with vegetable stuffing that I’d stolen from home. "Delicious, delicious." Grandpa Mahaling devoured them in two bites. The black hole made no difference—the hole was so big, even a lamb wouldn’t scrape the edge. "So, what’s the real reason you’re here? Not just bringing buns?" Grandpa Mahaling patted his mouth, his eyes, blurred with eye discharge, narrowed and fixed on me. "When you were young, you caused quite a few troubles, didn’t you?" "I did a few things, sure. When I was young, I was a bandit for a few days, caught the Japanese bastard Sanlang, who had killed my wife, and lit him up like a lantern! Later, I joined the Eighth Route Army but was shot in the back by an enemy from my own unit, breaking my clavicle. During the land reform, I and Lao Tu and Hugada were all active members, militia leaders, and the like." Grandpa Mahaling closed his eyes, closing that black hole of a mouth, leaned back against the earthen wall, and was silent for a long while. His pale, wrinkled face showed no trace of blood, like a withered leaf devoid of life. "How did you and Lao Tu and Hugada get into a fight?" I couldn’t help but ask curiously. "This story is for next time. Don’t forget to bring buns for me. Go, go, figure out that big flower dog that bites your behind." Grandpa Mahaling stood up and went inside. The autumn evening was already cool. "Grandpa Mahaling, that copper ring you gave me—does it have a story too?" I asked last. "That came from the yellow dog of the landlord Wang Bala’s eyes. I heard he traded a sheep for it." Just as I turned to leave, he called me back. Suddenly, he held a piece of shiny black ox horn and handed it to me, speaking mysteriously, "Roast this horn in the fire, cut it into strips, mix it with the dough, and bake it before feeding it to that big flower dog." "What will happen?" "I guarantee the dog’s intestines will be torn apart, hehehe." Grandpa Mahaling smiled coldly. "Grandpa Mahaling, did that big flower dog bite you too?" The old man pulled up his pants legs. His calf had two black scabs, one of which was still healing, oozing thick, yellowish pus. Then, he shuffled into the house. I gripped the black horn tightly and walked out of Grandpa Mahaling’s dilapidated yard with my head held high. There weren’t many people on the village street. After the recent wolf scare, the children didn’t dare to play outside after dinner, and everyone stayed cooped up at home when it got dark. I turned toward the path home and ran into my classmate Yima, who was carrying a water bucket to the river. "Running into someone with an empty bucket is said to bring bad luck." I said. "Then you turn around and go with me to fetch water." Yima was clearly trying to ask me for company to courage her up. It was already dark. "You should drill a well at home so you don’t have to go to the river for water." I said as I accompanied her to the river. "Where did you get the money? My mom’s sick, and all the money goes to her. I’m almost dropping out of school." Yima looked despondent. I didn’t know how to comfort her and walked silently to the riverbank. Then, I followed an artificially dug along the way to the river. Yima was a top student in our class and a pretty girl. Her essays had won county awards, and if her family could afford it, she could even go to university or become a doctor. But fate had already destined her to manage the household and help her father with farming. If she had been born into Lao Tu’s family, things would be different. The world was so unfair—rich students repeated grades year after year, while poor children, who were among the best students, couldn’t afford an education. I suddenly remembered the warning from Er Tu a few days ago. "Yima, be careful of that little rascal Er Tu." "Don’t mention that scoundrel. He always stares at me on the way home from school. I heard he bit your behind with a dog? Giggling, giggling." Yima covered her mouth and laughed. "I’ll be rid of that vicious dog sooner or later. You wait and see." I clenched the black horn in my hand. Yima crouched by the river, scooping water into her bucket with a. There was a sparse cluster of willow bushes by the river. I noticed two green glimmers shining in the cluster. At first, I thought they were colorful glass or some precious object reflecting light in the afterglow of the sunset. Foolishly, I walked over to pick them up. It didn’t matter anyway—Yima still had to wait to scoop water. The distance was only about twenty or thirty meters. I whistled carelessly as I walked. Suddenly, the two green lights flashed and disappeared, and a roar came from the grassy patch. A four-legged beast sprang out, charging at me. "Wolf! Yima, run!" I screamed in shock. I couldn’t move, frozen in fear, watching the wolf with glowing green eyes, baring its fangs and claws, pounce on me. This was it. I closed my eyes, only hearing Yima’s screams and cries from behind. Something strange happened. I fell to the ground, and the wolf’s fluffy face was close to mine. But for some reason, the wolf let out a short howl and released me, and the paws it had pressed on my chest also moved away. It licked my face with its red tongue, like a rough brush. My face stung, felt cold, then burning. I was baffled. Then, the wolf turned and walked away, slowly disappearing into the darkness upstream. "That was the female wolf!" I called out, still shaken. "Oh my god! Yima, come help me." Yima rushed over to support me. "She recognized me. I and Lao Shu bandaged her wounds." I murmured. As I hurried away from the riverbank, I kept glancing back at the direction the wolf had disappeared. It hadn’t fled as the villagers said—it was still active around the village. It hadn’t given up its revenge. Its next attack might be even more terrifying. Thinking about it, I shivered. Yima said the female wolf was quite smart. I sighed inwardly, thinking humans were the ones losing their humanity. The world had turned upside down—sometimes, humans were no better than animals.
Our caravan was trekking through the vast, lifeless Manggus Desert. It was truly a dead desert, a sea of death, with not a blade of grass in sight. In fact, it was once the heartland of the Liao Dynasty, a vast grassland hundreds of years ago. But the Khitan people abandoned nomadism for agriculture, turning grasslands into farmland. Over centuries of change, the land had transformed into the desolate wasteland it is today. The Khitan people, like their culture, were buried under the yellow sand of the desert, becoming a tragic history for later generations to mourn. The Khitan people became a completely extinct nomadic nation in the north. Sometimes, misguided economic development hides the seeds of national and ethnic destruction, something people never anticipated at first. But later generations often forget these lessons, history is rewritten again and again, leaving only glory and grandeur behind. Forgetful nations keep repeating the same mistakes. It’s a tragedy. We struggled and zigzagged through the desert, trying to reach the ancient city in the heart of the "Devil’s Sand Sea" as soon as possible. This time, the guide, the "Drunk Hunter" Wutai, fully demonstrated his talent. He was indeed a hunter who had roamed the desert, remembering the sand formations perfectly. Despite the desert having no roads, he led us accurately into the ruins of the ancient city in the desert’s depths using features like high sand peaks, steep slopes, and crescent-shaped mounds. Moreover, facing his grandfather’s watchful eyes and the white-eared wolf cub’s occasional bared fangs and bloody mouth, he completely gave up any thoughts of escaping and became completely focused, only hoping to complete this mission quickly. Fortunately, we had plenty of wine, and he had some every day, enjoying it more than usual, though his grandfather limited his intake. Wutai took a large swig of wine from his camel, pointed with his whip, and said, "Look, that’s the ancient city in the desert." He looked like a proud drunkard general riding a camel. "Dad, we’re here!" I shouted loudly. My grandfather narrowed his eyes and stared at the mysterious ruins for a long time, saying nothing. No one could guess what was going through his mind. In the desert, an open sandy depression revealed long, brownish-black broken walls crisscrossing. The ruins of the ancient city stood still and silent in the mild autumn sunlight, without a sound, wind, rain, or noise. It felt more like a world of death, so quiet it was suffocating. My grandfather took the wine bottle from Wutai’s hand and said, "Stop drinking and don’t make a sound! Amu, put the chain on the white-eared cub and lead it, don’t let it run wild. Without my permission, no one is allowed to speak or move!" We immediately became tense. I then remembered that besides my father, the fierce female wolf, and my younger brother, Little Long, there might be other beasts like sand leopards in the ruins. We sneaked into the southern part of the ruins and settled in a hidden old wall. My grandfather had all five camels lie down, fed them salt and beans, and together with Wutai, set up a simple tent. I drove a stake into the ground and tied the white-eared cub to it. My grandfather loaded his rifle with ammunition, lay down on the old wall, and listened and observed the surroundings for a long time. After a while, he slid down the wall and said we should search the surroundings before dark, starting from the west. Wutai would go with him, and I was to stay at the camp. Unwilling, but unable to disobey my grandfather’s orders, I reluctantly agreed. However, they were gone for a long time, and I grew increasingly frightened. As the sun was about to set, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I untied the white-eared cub and followed the tracks left by my grandfather and Wutai, even if it meant getting scolded by my grandfather, I didn’t want to wait passively.