Chapter 137: [Dutong Village]

The whole village is 缟.
The sudden appearance of such a village in this quiet mountain forest really feels weird.
"This should be nothing to do with Murakami."
"Shall we go?"
"Go, you shouldn't worry about it. It's normal for things to be red and white. This is the point. If you can go to the village to buy something from the villagers, it ’s okay. The bread rusks are really bad."
"It's not very good, people do errands."
Everyone talked.
Finally, I studied it, and the group still felt that they would go to the village to see. In the first place, the big guys didn't want to eat dry food, but what they eat was not important. It is not necessary to deal with dry food. You just do n’t have much water with you. Need to find a place to add it.
A group of more than 20 people followed the road into the village.
There is an old locust tree at the entrance of the village.
Two Chinese pastoral dogs saw a group of people and started barking.
An old man came out of the house at the entrance of the village.
"What kind of people are you?" Laoxiang speaks not Mandarin, but Hakka dialect in Nanchang. Fortunately, most of the writers coming today are native Nanchang natives. Although the accents are slightly different, they all understand and speak.
老 "Long fellow, we are the writers of the Provincial Writers Association. We gather in the mountains and pass by your village. I want to come and rest and buy some rice and water."
The old man looked at a group of people and saw that they were all dressed well, and most of them were not young. They did not look like bad people, so they nodded, "Okay, you come in."
He said, the old man drove away two Chinese idyllic dogs and led everyone into the house.
The old house, the house was small, and it was dim, and the house could not hold the feet. Half of the people stood outside and looked inward.
Luminous went in, looked around, very ordinary old house, the home items are a bit old, the hall is a long hall table, people who have seen the old house in the countryside should have seen it, there is a black and white table on the table The photo is an old lady, who should be the old man's wife. It is dedicated to a goddess, incense sticks are in the incense burner, and there are candles and white candles in front.
The old man came up with a few old black stools that were very honest and asked everyone to sit down, but there are only a few stools in the old man's house, and the big guys are not enough.
Old man thought for a while, "Are you going to eat?"
"Yes, yes, it is inconvenient not to know."
The old Hanton paused, without answering Fang's inconvenience, but asked, "Give me money?"
给 "Here, of course, how can I eat for nothing."
Old man: "It's better to eat better."
"Okay!"
The old man nodded and said, "Just give the money, then go to the village ancestral hall, that is spacious, otherwise so many of you, our small family, ca n’t show up, go to the ancestral hall, the place is large and bright, let me say hello The people in the village will decorate you together. "
Everyone nodded and followed the old man toward the shrine.
Many rural ancestral halls are used for many purposes, not only to worship the ancestors, but in general there are many gatherings or red and white events in the village.
Many villagers have already come out to watch the bustling road.
The curious villager asked: "Old hoe, what are you doing? How come there are so many people."
The old is the old man. "I came from outside. I thought of eating a meal in our village. They were crowded. I took them to the shrine. You also called your mother-in-law to help."
Villagers: "Eat? Don't give money?"
I still do n’t wait for the old to answer, and some writers will speak out first, "Give money, give money!"
The villagers' eyes brightened, and they quickly returned to the house, "Daughter, daughter-in-law, come out quickly, go to the shrine, go to the shrine!"
This situation has been staged several times along the way.
Some writers can't help but start whispering and whispering, "Every time you give money to your eyes, they reflect, so enthusiastically, will we not be slaughtered for a while?"
"Should ... not ..." The writer was not quite sure.
"I hope not, how long have you been thinking for a while, don't be fooled."
"Well, watch out, ask the price first and ask for something later."
A group of people entered the old temple with the old man. The entrance was a huge long sacred platform in the center of the temple. It was filled with white candles and lit, and there was a brazier on the ground. Green smoke, some paper money scattered around.
Seeing this situation, some writers began to feel a little embarrassed in their hearts, and several female writers drew back and dared not enter.
Obviously, the old also knew what they were afraid of, explaining, "It's okay, rest assured, there are no dead people in the village. Come in, really dead people, I can't let you come."
Everyone was a little confused. What did this do without death? What's going on in the village?
The old did not take the initiative to say that everyone was not good at asking questions and went in rashly.
There is an open-air patio in the middle of the Ancestral Hall. The sun shines down directly, and the illuminated hall is very bright.
Then seven or eight men and village women also came. Some carried round tables, some carried long stools, and erected three sets of tables with hands and feet. Look at the new and old styles of these tables and stools. It's old, and it's dark. It should be moved by the villagers themselves.
The two women wiped these tables and stools with a rag, and greeted everyone to sit down. "Come, sit, don't be polite."
Everyone took a seat and walked the mountain road all morning. The big guy was really tired, sitting on the stools and rubbing his sour legs.
The old man with a smile on his face was talking with the villagers ~ EbookFREE.me ~ Many villagers gathered after hearing the news, and some of them still had a large porcelain bowl in their hands and ate lunch from afar.
"Era, Cuihua, you two are good at craftsmanship. Let's handle this meal today."
"Dog, Sanhua, Xiaoqi, you help to fight. Others have everything good at home, show the guests what to eat, give money, go."
"Everyone's hands and feet are sharp, it's not too late, and we have to go to the mountain to see that girl in the afternoon."
A few villagers responded to their work. Some of the unnamed villagers were still standing, and some turned away and went back to get food.
The writers sat and waited for a while, while chatting with fellow villagers.
The fellows are not very good at words, and the thick native voice reveals simplicity.
After some small talk, Yeguang and others also got some knowledge about this small village.
The village is called Dutang Village. It is said that the source of the name is because there is a pond in the center of Murakami, so it is called Dutang. It is not big. There are only 50 or so people in the village. There is only one surname in the village, all of which are Guo. Middle-aged and old people, young people generally go out to work, they will not stay in the village, they lean on the mountain, but there is nothing to feed them in the mountains in the annex, they mainly rely on arable land for their livelihood. Not too affluent, or even poor.
I sat for a while, and fellows came over one after another, all kinds of things in my hands.
Ye Yeguang and the writers are a little dumbfounded.
Bacon, sausage, dried duck, Chinese cabbage, old hen, Chinese duck, bamboo shoots, pumpkin, grass carp. And what does the man resist? Such a big ham?
Don't say it, the tired and hungry writers who have been away all morning have suddenly seen these drooling.