The Rural Doctor of the Mountain Spirit

  On the withered tree, my grandfather's face was more painful than the last time we saw him.

  Those two lines of blood and tears flowed out from the corners of his eyes, onto his face, and dripped onto the ground. I stood beside him, my whole body trembling. And my parents began to sob quietly again.

  In the withered tree, is my grandfather's soul. He was crying, his corpse had been hung under the old pear tree in front of the door for several days, and his coffin was finally buried in the main hall of my home.

  When he was alive, he never left his home; when he died, he still didn't leave his home.

  Unconsciously, my eyes also became wet. To be honest, I was more heartbroken than my parents. My grandfather died in front of me, and he had been hiding at home every day because of me. In his lifetime, my grandfather only spoke two sentences to me, one when I was five years old and almost choked to death, and the other was what he said before he died: "It turns out you've already discovered it."

  Under that old tree, I stood for a long time with my parents before we slowly left the village.

  We met many people on the way, some familiar and some unfamiliar. No one greeted us, they just looked at us from a distance.

  Sometimes, I also hear someone say with a sarcastic tone: "This family is finally leaving."

  When I came to, we had already left the village far behind and were on a desolate hillside. At this point, my parents suddenly stopped. My father looked down at me and said, "Little Sen, do you love your grandfather?"

  I said I love him. My father then asked: "Do you love us or not?"

  I said I love. My father grasped my hand tightly: "If you love, then never forget it forever."

  I clearly remember that I was seven years old at the time. The sky was unusually gloomy that day, and we stood on a high slope with dark yellow mountains all around us.

  "After we're gone, you have to take good care of yourself." These words were spoken by my mother, and I found them incomprehensible.

  "Why? Why aren't you by my side?"

  Mother shook her head, her face painful, but she didn't speak. Father looked down at me and said with difficulty: "We're going to send you to a familiar person's place, he will take good care of you."

  "Why, why are you sending me to a familiar place? Why, why can't you just take good care of me?"

  And why again, these days, countless whys have been swirling in my mind. And at this moment, "why" has emerged once more.

  "We're going to fulfill a promise." These were the last words my father said to me. Because, since then, I've never seen him again.

  After he finished saying that, my father took out a hemp rope. I remember very clearly that this hemp rope was used to hang my grandfather the night before. Now, my father is using this hemp rope to tie me up.

  I was initially shocked and it took me a long time to come back to my senses. My father pulled out the hemp rope, not for anything else, but to tie me up. When I realized everything, my hands and feet were already tied up, tightly bound to a tree.

  And my parents stood in front of me, their faces twisted in agony, their complexions purpling. They looked at me once, and finally choked with sobs.

  "My mother said to me: 'Little Sen, remember what you said. Let's go.'"

  They weren't kidding, they really left. After tying me to the tree, they really left. I watched them leave with my own eyes, wanting to follow, but my body was tied up and couldn't move.

  I finally let out a loud wail and burst into tears. My parents heard me and paused for a moment, then continued walking. Gradually, they disappeared from my line of sight, disappearing into the desolate mountains.

  A gust of cold wind blew in front of me, and I only realized that my eyes had become completely blurry from crying so hard.

  At this moment, the sky had already turned somewhat dark. In front of me sat a middle-aged uncle in his forties, puffing on a dry tobacco pipe, with saliva splashing loudly.

  "Don't cry anymore, are you tired of crying? Or would you like to continue? I'll sit with you for a while." This was the first thing this middle-aged uncle said to me.

  I don't know him, seeing him sitting in front of me, I who rarely approached people since childhood felt full of guard in my heart.

  "Who are you? What do you want?"

  The middle-aged man took a drag on his cigarette and spat out a wad of phlegm: "What? You're afraid of me? Good, good, I'll teach you well from now on."

  As we were talking, the middle-aged uncle stood up from the ground and helped me untie the rope on my body. Just as he was about to completely untie me, I took off running.

  But before I could take three steps, I fell to the ground with a thud and my hand was caught by someone. A middle-aged uncle chuckled at me: "You little rabbit, where do you think you're running?"

  The middle-aged uncle was very strong, at least I thought so at the time, his strength was like an ox. I was pulled by him and couldn't move.

  He dragged me away, dragging me away by force. He pinched me under his arm, no matter how I cried and shouted, he forcibly took me forward.

  But on the road, my butt was slapped by him several times. Since I was a child, my parents have been very fond of me and never spared to hit me. But that day, my butt was beaten into a monkey's butt by this middle-aged uncle, red and swollen.

  Who he is, I'm not quite clear. All the way, I cried my throat hoarse, but he didn't care at all. When he stopped, I found myself in another small mountain village.

  And here became the place where I lived for more than a decade afterwards.

  This village is called Lao Shan Village. As its name suggests, there is a mountain behind the village, which is very short and small. However, on this mountain, there are traces left by people from all over, the oldest of which, it is said, were left by peasants who passed through during Chen Sheng Wu Guang's rebellion in the Qin Dynasty.

  When I arrived at the village, the middle-aged uncle put me down and opened a door of a house in front of him. I stood at the doorway in a daze, wanting to turn around and run away, but was pulled inside by his hand.

  "You don't want to come in, and I'm too lazy to accept you, if it weren't for your grandfather..."

  "Is it my grandfather?" His words were cut off by me.

  He didn't get angry, but looked at me thoughtfully: "Right, it's you grandpa. Your grandpa is dead, isn't he?"

  I rushed up to him: "My grandfather is not dead."

  I didn't expect that before I even reached him, he slapped me with a loud slap, directly knocking me out. I have to admit, this person's hand is really ruthless.

  "Dead is dead, what's not dead? I see you like this, with a belly full of fire in your heart, it's really unworthy for your grandfather."

  I stood by, speechless. The middle-aged uncle took out a cigarette from his body and lit it up, puffing away with a series of loud puffs.

  "Your grandfather and I had some dealings, seeing his grandson turn out like this, I truly pity my late friend."

  I came back to myself and clenched my fists: "I'm not a coward, you tell me, how did my grandfather die?"

  What I didn't expect was that this middle-aged uncle, who had been so overbearing and unreasonable to me, also looked somewhat pained after hearing my words. He sighed: "If you're not a coward, prove it to me, how your grandfather died, you're his grandson, why don't you figure it out yourself?"

  After saying this sentence, he left without looking back.

  His door was wide open, and after he left, he never came back to bother me. In fact, I could have left at any time. But after hearing his words, I didn't leave.

  That night I spent in his house's kitchen, lying on two chairs, I didn't eat dinner, and was woken up several times by hunger in the middle of the night. But I clenched my fists and held on.

  The next day, he woke me up and threw a cold roasted sweet potato at me before leaving again. In the evening, he came back from outside and brought me a quilt and a cold steamed bun, then left again.

  The following days were almost the same, he didn't say a word to me except for the first day when he talked to me a lot. And I had nothing to complain about, after all, the door was open and I could leave at any time. At his place, I barely got enough to eat and had a place to stay.

  Time flies, and a week has passed. I've lost another circle of weight this week. And that morning, because of an accidental thing, he spoke to me again.

  The sky had just lit up when I was woken by a sudden knock at the door. I got out of bed and opened it, to find a middle-aged woman standing outside, looking flustered, panting heavily, with sweat all over her face.

  "Is Wu Xianyi in?" The middle-aged woman asked as soon as she opened her mouth.

  I was puzzled at the time, but later reacted and realized that Wu Xianyi was referring to that middle-aged uncle. I said yes, then turned around and went into the house, wanting to call him.

  Unexpectedly, the middle-aged uncle had already appeared behind me, holding a pipe and wearing clothes.

  "What's wrong again?" asked the middle-aged uncle.

  The woman nodded: "Yes, always being bothered, I can hardly bear it."

  "Let's go." As he said this, he pushed me away and walked out of the house. I stood at the door, silently watching his back.

  That was an extremely tall back shadow.

  "You come too." He said suddenly turning his head.

  I followed him silently, but I didn't expect that after following him, I witnessed a scene that made my hair stand on end.