Text: 9ah
When I was a child, there was an old well in the center of the village, near Daonan, which was the water source for the whole village. No one can tell how old the well is. I once heard from my grandpa that when my great-grandfather came to this village from Guandong, there was already this old well.
The old well is a big well, I don’t know how deep it is. The water surface is very wide, bigger than a big dustpan. But the water surface is very close to the ground, almost parallel to the ground. The well water is surrounded by a well edge made of a square and thick wooden board. I don't know what kind of wood it is made of. Although it is very old, there is no trace of decay at all. The wooden planks were somewhat blackened by years of well water, and the surroundings were covered with moss. There is no windlass in the well, and there is no need for a bucket or bucket, because you only need to bend down at the edge of the well to put the bucket into the water and draw water. There is a large manger around the edge of the well, and there is often water in it for the villagers to drink for their horses.
The old well is the lifeblood of the people in the village. The adults will tell their children that they are not allowed to throw things into the well, and they are not allowed to lie down by the well and look in. You absolutely don’t dare to throw things away, because you know that the water is for drinking, and no matter how naughty you are, you will not quench your thirst with the well water. Moreover, if anyone really dares to throw things, no matter which uncle or uncle sees it, they will give him mercilessly. A fat beating. Looking into the well, almost all the children in our village have done it. While the adults are not paying attention while they are taking a nap, we will quietly run to the edge of the well, lie on the wooden edge of the well and look into the well. The water in the well is clear and dark, and its depth is unpredictable. It is impossible to see the bottom. The blue sky and white clouds are reflected on the water, as well as dirty little faces. He doesn't stay long, takes a sneak peek and then walks away, because the adults will scold him if they see it.
The old well is always clear and clear right in front of you, regardless of drought or flood, whether the water is deep or shallow. For forty or fifty households in the whole village, all drinking water and daily water are carried home one load at a time on poles from the old well.
Every morning before dawn, you will see uncles and uncles carrying poles with two buckets dangling on both ends. They come to the well, smoke a bag of dry cigarettes, and talk about their daily routine for a while. , then took out two buckets of water, and carried them home swaying and delicately.
There are also uncles and uncles who lead their horses to the well, and fill the manger with fresh well water. The horse lowers its head and drinks the water. After a while, the water level in the manger drops. Much lower.
There will also be aunts, aunts, and sisters living nearby who go to the well to wash rice and wash vegetables, but they do not wash clothes by the well. This may be because the well water is too cold, or they may be afraid of dirtying the well. Water? But I saw them often going to the river to wash clothes.
The well water is cold all year round, and when you take a sip, it is filled with a hint of sweetness. It is said that "a place of water and soil nourishes a person." Indeed, I am used to drinking water from big wells. Every time I visit my aunt's house in Hedong, which is just across a big river, I always don't like drinking the water from her well. The water from their wells couldn't bear to be sipped, it was vaguely bitter. After washing my face, I feel tight. Although the cooked rice is made from the same millet, I always feel that it is not as delicious as the rice made by my mother at home.
The tofu made by my father using the water from the old well is extremely delicious. The soybean tofu is white, tender and smooth, with a full bean flavor. There is no need to stir-fry or fry it. Add a spoonful of my mother’s soybean paste and you can eat a large piece of it raw, leaving a lingering aroma in your mouth. Dry tofu, fresh in color, soft and pliable, smeared with soybean paste, rolled with sprouted green onions from the garden, take a bite, and the aroma is overflowing.
Every afternoon, when my father comes back from selling tofu, he has to go to the big well to fetch water. Sometimes, when my father is too tired, my mother will fetch some water. Wash the soybeans and soak them in a small water vat. To make tofu, you have to fill a large vat of well water. Every time I see my parents carrying water back and forth, sweating profusely from exhaustion, I always think about it, it would be great if there was a well in my house. Dad said that the water from this old well makes the best tofu.
Yes, the tofu made by my father was famous far and wide at that time and sold very fast. Dad often said that this tofu is delicious and sells well. In addition to the fact that the people who make the tofu must be skilled in their workmanship, the soybeans used must be good, and the stone grinding must be fine. The heat for cooking the soy milk should not be too high or too low, and the scale of the brine must be well controlled. , you must press the tofu in moderation, even if you do this, dad said that delicious tofu is still inseparable from the harvest of good well water. But many people don't believe this. Until my eldest cousin in my aunt's house in Hedong also wanted to learn how to make tofu from my father. He wanted to open a tofu shop. After learning at my house for more than a month, he was able to make both soybean and dried tofu. Dad informed him , can become a disciple. But a few days after my cousin returned home, he came back to his father and said that the tofu he made at home could not be as good as the tofu he made when he was studying at my house. He asked my father to go to his house to have a look again no matter what. What's the problem? Dad told him that it was about the well water, but his cousin didn't believe anything he said. He said that Dad must have some special skills that he hadn't learned yet.
Dad was so bullied by his cousin that he had to go to his house in person. A few days later, dad came back and said that the tofu he made at his cousin’s house was not as good as the one made at home. Dad summed it up: "The same soybeans, the same stone grinding, the same brine, the same heat, the same filtration, but the tofu tastes different, it doesn't taste strong at all, and the color is not the same, so what's the point of doubting it?" It's just a matter of well water!" This time, my cousin believed it.
The neighbors in Shiliba Village also believed it and were more willing to buy the tofu made by my father.
As a matter of convention, the old well has become the center of the village. After dinner and during farm breaks, the adults and children in the village often can't help but gather around the well. The adults sat on the adobe beside the well and chatted. The animals drank water from the big manger next to the well. After drinking enough, they went to graze on the straw mats in front of the well. The children ran around tirelessly until the stars in the sky blinked, and then one after another they left the edge of the well and returned to their homes.
In the coldest time of winter, in just one night, thick ice will form around the wellhead. Before carrying water, adults have to use an ax to break the ice. Float on the water, fish it out, and it becomes our delicacy. Children often gather around the edge of the well and eat ice cubes. It's funny to say that in that era when there were no snacks, the crystal clear ice cubes in the old well became a delicious delicacy in our mouths for 39 days.
Later, maybe because the villagers were rich, maybe because they were too tired to carry water, every household built small wells and motor-driven wells in their own courtyards or kitchens. The old wells gradually fell into disuse. , I don’t know when, the old well that has witnessed the warmth and warmth of households for generations disappeared in the changes of the years...
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