In the middle of Canghai Province, there is a mountain range with a undulating and undulating length of more than 300 kilometers, which divides the province's terrain into two. To the southeast is a mountainous area with hills and valleys, and to the northwest is an endless plain. In the mountainous area in the southeast, there is a mountain with an altitude of more than 500 meters. Because the mountain is relatively flat, it looks like a lying ox from a distance, so it is called Woniuling. There is a village under Woniuling, which was called Kuoshantun before liberation. After liberation, the government found that more than ten places in the county were called Kuoshantun. So when the administrative region was re-planned, it was renamed Heping Village.

There is a small river flowing from west to east in Heping Village. The river is not wide and the water is not fast. Some willow trees are sparsely planted on both sides of the river. One of them is a tree that is hundreds of years old. It has a thick torso and mottled skin. The hanging branches are covered with snow, which is as crystal clear as jade, and it is beautiful. About one kilometer south of the big willow tree, there is a small hill with gentle mountains. There are five families living on the slope, four of which have built three-story western-style buildings, and only the one on the left still lives in brick and tile bungalows.

The bungalow covers a relatively large area, with two houses one old and one new. The old house is located to the west and consists of five rammed earth houses. It is dilapidated and has no furniture. It has been a long time since no one has lived in it. The windows and doors are made of wood, showing a dark brown color that is about to decay. The walls are also washed away by rain. They are bumpy and can be seen on the side. They are vaguely seen with large slogans with the characteristics of the times: Grasp the revolution and promote production!

The new house is located on the east side and has been newly built in recent years. It adopts a simplified courtyard style. There are three main rooms facing north and south in the middle, two wing rooms on the left and right, and a yard is surrounded by bricks and stones in front. There is a flowerbed at the corner of the yard, which is planted with an osmanthus and a few plum blossoms. The osmanthus has withered, but the red plum is in full bloom, which complements the snow on the roof tiles, making the slightly deserted courtyard full of vitality.

"Principal Du, I opened a new hotel a while ago. Please help me write a Spring Festival couplet for the attractions."

"Then write a delicious food and wine, don't get drunk, the sincere guests come often, what do you think?"

"Okay, just write this. My hotel is next to the driving school. It's better not to get drunk."

Du Cunzhi spread a piece of red paper on the Eight Immortals table, pressed it with paperweight, then picked up a brush, dipped it ink on the inkstone, and began to write Spring Festival couplets. He was born in 1940 and is 55 years old this year. Except for those years when there were no conditions, he never stopped practicing calligraphy in the rest of the time. Over time, his body has become as beautiful as a transformation, plump and vigorous, and magnificent. During the Spring Festival, not only the villagers from nearby villages come to ask for words, but also many shop owners in H County in the town will come to customize Spring Festival couplets.

Delicious food and wine...

Just as the first stroke of the word "jun" was written, a neighbor in a cotton coat ran in from outside the yard, stood in the middle of the yard panting, shouting: "Principal Du, your son is back, Qiu Shi is back!"

For decades, his wrist, which had never shaken when writing, suddenly slanted, and an ugly handwriting like an earthworm was drawn on the red paper. Du Cunzhi's brain was blank, his heart seemed to stop beating, but blood rushed to his forehead, stirring up an indescribable manic mood. He pinched the pen with his thumb and index finger, trying to pinch it into pieces, or poke it into the table hard.

"Principal Du, I didn't lie to you, it's true! Chunhua and Dawei brought it back in person. I saw it just now at the entrance of the village. It looks exactly like Chunhua's son, and it looks very similar to you. Chunhua said that he was abducted and sold to RB. Last year, when he heard that Chunhua was in Yuncheng, he ran over to look for his relatives..."

Mania turned into ecstasy. Du Cunzhi used all his strength and threw the brush on his hand to the ground. The pen rod was broken into several pieces, and the ink splashed everywhere, dyeing the new pants he had just made. He ignored it and ran outward. Several villagers who were begging for words hurriedly chased after him. Everyone had an unconcealed look of excitement, which was even more excited than going to the county to see the big stars from Hong Kong.

There was a threshold between the main hall and the steps. Du Cunzhi was too fast to trip, staggered for two steps, and almost fell down. The neighbor who was following behind hurriedly helped him. He felt it was burdened and broke free with a swing of his hand. Even the steps that were only five levels were troublesome. He jumped down from the corridor at the door of the main hall and ran straight out of the yard. After a few steps, a cold wind blew, and his mind, which was blinded by ecstasy, suddenly woke up.

When Chunhua called last night, she only said that she was back today, and she didn't mention Qiushi's incident...

Huang Dashan, this dog thief, is lying to me!

Du Cunzhi stopped suddenly and was about to catch the neighbor who came to report the news and asked, but heard a noise outside the yard, mixed with laughter and joy. One of them was his daughter Du Chunhua, the other was his son-in-law Lin Dawei, and the other was his voice very strange, but he was not unfamiliar with what he said: "Sister, why is this old house still there? I remember that I had engraved a name on the gate before..."

It's autumn fruit!

It's him, my son is back!

The stopping steps could no longer move, Du Cunzhi froze, standing firmly in the yard like an ice sculpture, listening to the sound getting closer and clearer, and then he saw his daughter walking in from the gate of the yard with a man in his early twenties. The man was very tall, with a very similar outline to himself, his eyebrows and eyes were very similar to Chunhua, and his facial features were very similar to Jinyan. No matter how you look at it, they were all from the Du family.

It's autumn fruit!

It was definitely him, I recognized it even if it turned into ashes!

As soon as Du Qiu entered the door, he saw his grandfather. His hair was not completely gray, his eyes were not completely presbyopia, his back was a little hunched, but he was still straight and his wrinkles began to grow, but he was still healthy. He stood upright in the middle of the yard, as if he was an old pine tree that was not afraid of the wind and rain, and was used to the changes in the wind and clouds.

"Brother, call me dad."

Even his mother and father have become sisters and brother-in-law, and they are calling smoothly. Du Qiu thought it would be fine to call his grandfather and call him dad, but when things came to an end, he found it was not that easy. There seemed to be a huge rock between his chest, which made the word jump smoothly. He looked at his red eyes and earnest eyes, thought of the warm days when he had been with his grandfather day and night and fought with each other, and also remembered the bleak last words that his grandfather did not forget to ask to find his uncle before he died. His eyes also turned red involuntarily, and he squirted his lips a few times, and finally gave up his unnecessary entanglement and knots, and said softly: "Dad, I'm back."

"good!"

“Qiushi is so good!”

"Congratulations to Principal Du and his son for reunion!"

A warm cheer burst out from the yard that was quiet and seemed to have stopped the wind. The neighbors who were crowded at the door cheered and cheered. Congratulations, the whole yard seemed to have a super lottery stage. In the quarrel of shock, Du Chunhua, who was crying, held Du Qiu's hand, pulled him to Du Cunzhi, and choked and said, "Dad, I'm back home."

"It's good if you're back, it's good if you're back..."

Du Cunzhi murmured to himself, while touching Du Qiu with his trembling hands. After touching his hands, he touched his arms, and touching his chest. He seemed to not believe that he was a real person. Du Qiu felt both sad and sad, guilty and regretful. He remembered the joke his mother told that night, so he simply knelt down on both knees, held his grandfather's hands, and placed them on his face.

When his cold hands touched his warm face, Du Cunzhi finally woke up and hugged Du Qiu, hugged him tightly, pressed his forehead against his head, and cried bitterly. He was a person with a strong and tough personality. He had never lost his composure in public. At this time, he burst into tears and could not help himself. The neighbors watching regardless of men and women were moved and sighed in tears. Then they all came forward to comfort him, and persuaded him, and sent the person from the yard to the main hall.

After his emotions stabilized, the next thing became simple. There were copper coins as tokens, Du Chunhua and Lin Dawei as commentators, and Du Qiu could make up his lie by adding a few words to the key places. Soon, he was "a legendary story of being abducted to RB, like a bird with wings, flew into every household in Heping Village. The crowds watching the fun seemed to be celebrating a temple fair, and waves came in, almost breaking the threshold of the yard.

Pure storytelling quickly failed to satisfy the curiosity of the gossip party, and began to ask Du Qiu to perform various skills he learned after he disappeared. In addition to the favorite "How to say this thing in Japanese", he also wanted to write calligraphy.

"Qiushi, your sister just said that you didn't forget your roots. After going to RB, you still practiced calligraphy hard. The handwriting was very beautiful. Why not write a few now to open your eyes to everyone."

"Yes, yes, Aunt, I was here to ask your dad to write Spring Festival couplets today, but I was delayed by your return. You just happened to help write one."

Du Qiu's calligraphy is a flowery style, tangible and unintentional. It is okay to fool people who don't understand it. It is not enough in the eyes of experts. How dare you show your ugly face in front of your grandfather? He hurriedly refused: "Let our dad write it. I'm just practicing it blindly, and I'm not good at it."

"Whether it is okay, you don't have to say it yourself, your father will say it, Principal Du, do you think so?"

"That's right, Principal Du, don't you want to see how your son's handwriting is written?"

It has been more than two hours since entering the door. Du Cunzhi has been sitting upright, looking at Du Qiu with a smile, and barely speaking. At this time, he jumped up, walked into the study next door, took a spare brush, and said, "Qiushi, since your aunt asked you to write, just write a copy for her."

Du Qiu had no choice but to obey his orders rather than respect. He walked to the Eight Immortals table. Du Chunhua, whose eyes were red and swollen, followed him to help him grind the ink. While grinding, he muttered in a low voice: "My brother, write well, otherwise you will feel better in the future."

"Isn't it all your fault? I know that my name is clear and I have to brag about it just now."

"Since I gave birth to Jinyan, I have not practiced much. Every time I come back from the Spring Festival, I will be scolded by our father. If I don't brag about you, how can I avoid it?"

"It turns out that the pillars mean a wooden man who specializes in helping you with the cylinder?"

"What do you think?"

Du Qiu took out twelve points of concentration and skill and wrote a couplet with relatively simple text. After writing it, he felt good about himself. The onlookers praised him for being better than being blue. However, Du Cunzhi only looked at it and turned dark. He took out a rubbing of Chu Suiliang's "Shut of the Spirit of the Yanta" from the study and ordered in a hard tone: "From tomorrow, copy twenty words every day!"

I knew that this stubborn old man would not let me go...
Chapter completed!