I haven’t kept a diary for many years, but when I opened the old Japanese words, I found that the spring was no longer there, and the summer was scorching...

My mother lived in an old house, accompanied by an old cat.

When my father was still alive, he could harvest a lot of grain every year. After the harvest, a large number of mice lived in seclusion in the old house with civil structure, and a competent cat was needed to help the owner protect the fruits of labor. The original one disappeared inexplicably at dusk on an autumn day. The parents called for it for several days and asked the neighbors to pay more attention. Even though the cat had nine lives, they still could not find its whereabouts. It was accidentally eaten. It is unknown whether the drug killed the mouse or was taken away by others.

So, a skinny cat kit became the youngest member of the family. When I first met the little cat, I had just successfully escaped from the farm and got a job in a certain school. I went home for the weekend and met this new member for the first time. At the same time, I learned that the previous cat was missing.

This cat is really ugly, extremely thin, with messy fur, a hoarse cry, and a gait that is not elegant at all. It is simply annoying. It came from my mother's hometown, a ravine called Hongyankou dozens of miles away. It took my father most of the day to find this ugly cat, and the owner missed his hometown so much that he generously gave it to him. The father carried the little creature and returned home under the moonlight. The mother took it seriously and welcomed the new member with a bowl of noodles. The ugly cat had high hopes.

The cat has undergone eighteen changes. After a few months, its physique became stronger and stronger, its beard was particularly majestic, its eyes emitted a faint blue light, and the hair on its body became brand new, like brocade. It had grown into a valiant guardian, and for several years there was little rat activity in the house.

About six years ago, the cat suddenly became lazy, especially at night. It didn’t even bother to bark. Instead, it nestled in a warm place and slept soundly. The father on the hospital bed cherished the fruits of his hard work. Without the supervision of the cat, rats came in groups, unbridled and noisy. The father couldn't bear it and knocked on the wall with a bamboo pole to stop the rats. Their crazy behavior. My mother also scolded me harshly, you are such a lazy cat. The scolding pierced his father's heart like a needle. Maybe a person who is sick would inevitably have more thoughts. My father is not good at eating and is hardworking.

Despite its neglect of duty, it remains loyal. After his father passed away, the only one who could accompany his mother day and night was this cat with a bloated gait. During a long period of loneliness, the mother and the cat depended on each other. The mother promised "good food" and the cat returned the favor. They looked for warmth from each other in the cold old house.

When I go home to visit my mother, I will call the cat loudly. Under the afterglow of the setting sun, the old house was already mottled. The fat cat was drooping under the wall, eyes slightly closed, motionless, just "meowing" as a shallow response.

My heart is tight. The cat is old. It has lived in this home for more than ten years. The mother's shadow is imprinted on the old wall, and the mountain wind passes by, causing the shadow to sway. This is an old man who can be blown down by a gust of wind, which can probably be used as an annotation of his waning years. Go live in the city for a while, I tried to convince my mother. She raised her face, and a trace of her thin frosty hair was scattered in the evening breeze. There was turbidity in the corners of her eyes that could not be wiped off for a long time. It was caused by years of eye disease. Her faint smile revealed the secret of her teeth. There was not much left, and her gums clear and distinct.

Compared to the cat, the mother is older. She went from one ravine to another and stayed there for more than 40 years. City people of her age dance square dances and practice Tai Chi to live their old age, but she, my mother, still stubbornly supports a lonely life. What a desolate life this must be!

I must go to see the eye disease and have my teeth repaired. After several attempts to persuade me, I couldn't bear it anymore, but my mother refused for many reasons. She couldn't bear to lose two pigs, six chickens, several warehouses of grain, piles of chopped firewood, bacon, etc. These worries can be solved, and you can ask a reliable person to take care of you. I comforted my mother. The cat would not be used to it. She was determined. She looked around at the old house covered with thick smoke and dust, and said lightly that a gold nest and a silver nest were not as good as her own mud nest. I can only joke that you are worried that others will take away the old house.

It is not difficult to imagine how long and difficult it is to persuade a rural old man. My mother used her old age to bring her son into middle age. Why didn't I know that she had deeply rooted her roots in a small place and would wither if she moved even a little bit. How could she be away from this old house that she had lived in for decades?

My mother should have been born into a scholarly family. My grandfather was a gentleman before liberation and could write in regular regular script. My grandmother’s ancestors were from a rich family with many fields and houses, wrapped in three-inch golden lotus. . After those turbulent years passed, my grandfather became a farmer, and my grandmother tiptoed to the fields. When my mother came into the world, her life was extremely frightening. In a big family, survival is the first priority. My grandfather, who was a teacher, had no time to teach his children. My mother could not read more than 100 words, but she learned how to live a miserable life.

When I was young, my father had a clean life, and his only wealth was the old house left by his ancestors. It was empty and dark. Even decades later, I still have some memories related to the old house in my mind. Memory is like a black cloud that is too thick to dissolve. High steps, high thresholds, dark roofs, dark walls, uneven floors, and a portrait of Chairman Mao on the nave, which is warm and compassionate.

Even in such a terrible reality, my mother still married without hesitation. She has hard-working hands and an extremely persevering heart. At the end of the people's commune period, parents had to work hard to earn work points, leaving early and returning late. I had to look after the home and nursery. The profound memory may be due to hunger and fear. Under normal circumstances, the memory of three or five-year-old children is fuzzy, but I was an exception. I stayed in front of the dark old house all day, and I was often hungry. My mouth watered, and kind passers-by occasionally rewarded me with half a sweet potato. The old house was gloomy, and it kept creating horrific scenes in my young mind, and I could only resist helplessly.

When I was almost six years old, my mother started building a house. The old house has been in disrepair for a long time and is no longer sheltered from the wind and rain, or maybe it is fed up with the trivial matters between the neighbors and is planning to stay away. My uncle is a well-known senior carpenter. He wanted to help his brother. My grandfather came from dozens of miles away, bringing two buckets of grain and hoe tools. My father borrowed some money and grain from wealthy people and hired various craftsmen. Housing construction has entered the implementation stage.

I am extremely happy that I can finally escape from the old house. I had to do my part, so I became my mother's helper, picking up sawdust as firewood, carrying the bowl and chopsticks gently, and my mother was very happy and secretly rewarded me with a piece of fat meat. In the winter of 1982, we finally moved into a new house without doors or windows. That winter was extremely cold, and the snow fell early. I was so cold that I jumped around in the house, but my heart felt extra warm. My parents planned to have a better future. One spring, I had to be sent to school.

The house made of earth and tiles is warm in winter and cool in summer. The wooden corridor and stilted building fully reflect the ethnic customs. New fruit trees are planted next to the house. When spring comes, peaches and plums are in bloom, and bees and butterflies are flying. Dancing, the stream of flowing water flows around the house, leaving behind a sweet spring and coolness. To this day, I have not been able to find another spring that is so sweet and tastes like home.

There are fewer and fewer days to stay at home, so I have to study. The road away from home and the road back home are getting longer and longer. When I go out, my parents stare at the rice field for a long time. The shadows and instructions have become blurred. The earthen house is still clear, and the yellow-brown walls have long been mottled.

The color of the walls is heavy, but it cannot compare with the life of people in the mountains.

There is no road, so you have to walk through narrow paths. Men go into and out of the mountains and never leave their hands with a pestle. People in the city don't know what a pestle is, they only know the capital T. The meager output has to be carried down the mountain and sold in exchange for the necessary production materials, and then carried back again, and the cycle starts again, but the surplus is not much. If someone in the family is studying, they will definitely be stretched thin. The last time I went home in high school to ask for living expenses, my father was carrying a fifty kilogram bag of bicarbonate on his back, crawling on the mountain road with difficulty. Hearing that he was asking for money, he was frightened. He has been loyal to the land all his life, but lacks skills. Every penny he earns is soaked in sweat, and every penny he spends must be used wisely.

Every holiday while studying, you must participate in various labors, which is more profound and effective than school education. Whenever I hear my parents’ sighs echoing in the dark old house, and think of all the hardships faced by people in the mountains, I immediately have the idea of ????escape. And this is exactly what the fathers expected. They used their hardships and humiliation to drive their children out of the mountains to find a more dignified life. A few years later, even if my labor skills have been neglected, I still sincerely respect labor and respect the people who live by labor, even if their lives are not necessarily glamorous. But there are so many young people who hate labor, are ignorant, blindly enjoy themselves, and throw away the good quality of hard work in a mess, which is really sad.

The old house was lonely after all. I walked from one village to another, interpreting life with another way of labor. My father was lying on the former field, next to the road out of the mountain, a slightly lonely country road, with the occasional whistle breaking the tranquility of the ravine. Only the mother swayed in and out of the wooden door tremblingly, with the old cat following her like a shadow.

There are more and more lonely old houses. The children are thinking about living their own lives, or because of the squeeze of life, they have to leave behind a few old people who are in their dying years and let them continue to burn. The smoke from my hometown will keep my home from being completely deserted. The old man imprisoned in his hometown can only swallow his loneliness in the desolate dusk. There must still be sighs in the old house.

When I recalled the old house in the ravine, some lyrics were floating on the computer. What Shuimunianhua sang was our old house.

The small windows of my in-laws’ old house

The sunshine comes in and tells me the sunset and sunrise

The small tree outside the door is a gift of love

You picked out a day’s worth of floral cloth to decorate our windows

My dear old house has you accompanying me in my loneliness

Life was a bit hard at that time

Love is our only wealth

...

My dear old house is still in the same place

And where you are is only left to my memories. Happiness

No matter where I am now, I still love you as before

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