Chapter 1545 Conch

The prosperous Tang Dynasty.

A little boy wearing a washed white Chinese school uniform walked on the soft beach. The sun set, and the reflected beach shone like gold. The little boy walked along the coastline, leaving behind a string of shallow waves. The foot sockets were smoothed out by the sea water.

Ye Tian followed the little boy, leaving the beach, leaving the seawall, and walking into the street paved with bluestones. The little boy held two conchs in his hands, and occasionally put the conchs to his ears, making a "wuwu" sound. , the sea breeze is as wonderful as it is, making the boy's frown relax.

The boy had a bamboo fish basket slung on his back. There were several finger-sized holes in the fish basket. Two fresh fish kept jumping inside and sometimes their heads came out. The boy was too short. If he took a step, the fish basket would swing up and hit him. calf. It was very lively all around. We were catching up with the market that day. Small stalls were lined up on both sides of Qingshi Street. There were shouts and shouts. Those making clay figurines, those making candy figurines, and those selling candied haws. The boy looked at the sticks stuck in the grass and trees. , the candied haws wrapped in a layer of crystal clear syrup swallowed his saliva, he pinched the twenty penny that had a salty taste in his hand, and a five-year-old child turned away resolutely.

Ye Tian walked behind him. The further he walked, the more desolate he became. There were fewer and fewer solemn and elegant buildings on both sides, and gradually there were more low-rise bungalows. The brick walls became fewer and fewer, turning into dusty dirt. The walls and black glazed tiles became fewer and fewer, turning into grass roofs.

It was already poor enough here, but the boy's footsteps still did not stop. He passed by one small mountain village after another. It was getting dark, and there were almost no people around. There was only the dark wind, screaming like a sad ghost. .

Finally, at the foot of a hill, he saw a dilapidated house, and the boy stopped.

This wooden house is small and broken. The roof is made of straw and wheat straw bundled together. Several holes in the roof are temporarily blocked with a few broken boards. The door is full of holes as if it has been eaten by insects. , the swaying look makes people doubt that it will collapse in a rain.

The little boy cheered, rushed into the room, called "Mom", and threw himself into the arms of a woman covered in pudding. At this age, he was the most dependent on his parents. The boy proudly raised his head and stretched out his fins. The fish's back was full of small holes in his little hands, "How did you get twenty cents from fishing today?" After saying that, he bowed his head twice in the lady's arms and came to his haggard father who was lying on the bed. "Dad, Xingsheng will work hard to cure your illness. Our family will always be together."

The little boy was only five years old, and it was difficult for him to carry the fish basket, but he was very happy, as if as long as his parents were around, he would be satisfied with everything.

The father struggled to smile and nodded feebly.

The child didn't notice that his mother was looking at him deeply, her brows full of exhaustion and a hint of determination. She seemed unable to hold on.

Three days later.

"Xingsheng, come here." The lady called her son. She was dressed very neatly today. The coarse clothes covered with pudding had just been washed yesterday. Not only that, he also washed the two clothes cleanly. The daughters-in-law who were doing the laundry all praised her for her ability. She also filled up the water in the house and cooked a delicious breakfast. There were actually two poached eggs that Xingsheng had not eaten in a month, so Xingsheng today Delighted.

"Mom, what are you going to do?"

The lady said, "I'm going to the market to buy Xingsheng's favorite candied haws."

Xingsheng clapped his hands, then his expression darkened, "What should I do if I miss my mother?"

"Silly boy, mom will be back soon. If you miss mom..." The lady looked at the two conchs in Xingsheng's hand, took one herself, and then stuffed the other into Xingsheng's hand, "Hey, Xingsheng only needs If you speak in your conch, the sound will be transmitted to your mother’s conch, and she can hear it.”

Xingsheng was easy to fool. He nodded excitedly and was eager to try. He thought it was fun.

The lady is gone.

After an hour, Xingsheng missed his mother and shouted to the conch, "Mom, haven't you bought the candied haws?"

Throughout the day, Xingsheng didn't know how many times he shouted to the conch. The only answer he received was his father's sigh on the bed. It was getting dark. He kept asking "Mom, haven't you bought the candied haws?" and gradually lay on the ground and fell asleep.

For seven consecutive days, apart from clumsily stepping on small pillars to learn how to cook, the five-year-old child spent the rest of his time either going out to look for his mother or squatting at the door, talking to conch shells.

After more than ten days, Xingsheng seemed to know that his mother would not come back, and he stopped talking to the conch. He did not cry or make trouble, but said nothing, and gradually took care of the housework. When he was six years old, his father After coughing all night, the pillow was covered with bloody sputum, and the spittoon was half full of blood. Early the next morning, Xingsheng couldn't wake his father up. He thought his father was hungry, so he made batter and fed it with a wooden spoon, but he couldn't. Xingsheng went in and stayed with his father's body for three days and three nights. This night, under the turbid oil lamp, he said to his father, "Dad, I'll call my mother." Then he pulled out a cloth under the bed. The dusty box contained Xingsheng's most precious thing. When he opened the box, it was the conch. Xingsheng huddled in the corner and couldn't stop crying. He said to the conch, "Mom, I miss you. Come back soon." Bar."

…………

Another three years passed.

Xing Xing has grown up, and is much stronger than the nine-year-old boy. He has dark skin and is very capable. He can catch half the money of fresh fish in a day. Many old people who saw him admired him, who could make such a profit with such a son-in-law.

One day, Xingsheng was weaving a fish basket with bamboo strips outside the wooden house, when suddenly a handsome young man came. Xingsheng had never seen this young man before. Even the top-notch young men in the nearby villages were not as handsome as this young man.

Xingsheng felt that he had a good impression of him, "Who are you?"

"My name is Ye Tian."

"Oh, do you want to talk to me about something?"

Ye Tian nodded, and like a magic trick, he took out a stick of grass with candied haws stuck on it, "I'm here to give you candied haws."

"Why do you want to give it to me?"

"I want to exchange it for your conch."

Xingsheng was as alert as an elk seeing a leopard, and roared, "No!"

Ye Tian looked at him calmly, "Xingsheng, some things are already dead in your heart, aren't they? Are you going to be imprisoned in that conch for the rest of your life? If I say that your mother asked me to bring you candied haws, will you give it to me?"

"You decide!"

Xingsheng suddenly burst into tears, and his heart-wrenching cry didn't sound like an orphan, but like an abandoned wolf.

After a long time, Xingsheng calmed down and walked into the wooden house with an expressionless face. After a full hour, Xingsheng came out, holding the conch, and could not let go. He held it tightly, as if holding the most precious treasure. After hesitating for a long time, he finally handed it to Ye Tian.

Ye Tian took it in his hand and suddenly threw it to the ground. In Xingsheng's terrified expression, the conch shattered. Ye Tian shouted at the sky, "Living human skin, oh, no, Xingsheng, you should let it go. Do you still want to trap me in your reincarnation now?"

After saying that, the surrounding scene began to fade like an old photo that had been through decades.