Reborn in 1984, fishing and hunting in Jiangnan

Chapter 6 Teachings

"hiss!"

Chen Feng withdrew his hand, pursed his lips, stared longingly at the fish head soup, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Let your brother eat first."

She glared at Chen Feng, but her eyes were smiling.

Chen Zheng picked up a flatbread and handed it to Chen Feng: "Eat this."

Chen Feng took it, took a big bite, and puffed out his cheeks.

He chewed a couple of times and mumbled, "Brother is the best!"

Zhang Cuihua picked up another flatbread and handed it to Chen Rong, then picked one up for Chen Zheng as well.

Chen Laosan picked up the jar and took a sip of wine.

The wine went down my throat.

"hiss--!"

His brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed.

He smacked his lips, picked up a piece of pickled vegetable shreds with his chopsticks, put it in his mouth, and chewed it with a crunching sound.

"Zhengwa, how did you get this fish today? Tell me again."

Chen Zheng knew that his father wanted to hear the details.

But in his past life, his father rarely asked him about fishing.

After all, Chen Laosan had been fishing all his life and was one of the best fishermen on Baiyang Lake.

The biggest fish he ever caught was a mandarin fish weighing over 60 kilograms, which was ten years ago.

Chen Zheng was only nine years old at that time.

He stood on the shore and watched as his father struggled with the fish on the lake all afternoon.

That mandarin fish was a meter and a half long, and its body was as big as a small boat.

It rampaged through the water, dragging the boat half a mile away.

Finally, his father used a fishing spear to stab the fish from behind its gills, killing it instantly.

The fish blood dyed that large area of ​​the lake red.

When they returned to the village, the whole village came out to see them, marveling at their amazing appearance.

The child rode on the fish's back, but his legs couldn't reach the ground.

From then on, Chen Laosan's status in the village rose, and whenever anyone encountered difficulties fishing, they would come to him for advice.

But after his mother passed away, his father stopped going to the lake as often.

All they do all day is drink; their boat rots on the lake and nobody cares.

As Chen Zheng thought for a moment, he said, "Dad, we set up our net over at Repulse Bay..."

Old Chen put down the jar, looked at his son, and asked, "How did you know the fish would go to the shallow waters?"

"In this season, grass carp love to eat snails. The water there is shallow, there are many snails, and the fish forage there."

"How did you figure out it wasn't small?"

"Look at the fish splashing. In the afternoon, I saw fish splashing on the lake. The splashes were huge, so the fish must be quite big."

"So, the idea of ​​using a fish head scooped out with a sea basket, that was yours too?"

"Father, that's what you said before."

You say big fish are strong, but you can't let them exert their strength.

The head and tail of a fish are weak points, especially the gills; if they get stuck, the fish can't exert any strength.

Chen Laosan's chopsticks were suspended in mid-air.

After a long pause, he finally said, "Did I say that?"

"I did say that. I heard you say it when you were getting fish from Uncle Liu the year before last."

Chen Laosan picked up the jar and took another sip.

He drank too quickly this time, choked a bit, coughed twice, and his face turned red from coughing.

Zhang Cuihua said from the side, "Drink slowly, no one's going to take it from you."

She reached out and patted him on the back twice, with just the right amount of force.

Chen Laosan waved his hand, caught his breath, and looked at Chen Zheng with a look in his eyes that Chen Zheng had never seen before.

It's like an old craftsman seeing a successor who can take over his skills, feeling both relieved and uneasy.

"Zhengwa, remember this,"

"When catching fish, the most important thing is not strength, but eyesight."

You need to see where the fish came from, the depth of the water, and the tightness of the net.

If you see all these things clearly, the fish is yours. If you don't see them clearly, you belong to the fish.

"I understand, Father."

"besides,"

Chen Laosan picked up a piece of fish, put it in his mouth, chewed it twice, and swallowed it.

"You need a partner to catch fish. No matter how skilled you are, you can't catch a big fish by yourself."

"For today's matter, Jian Guo, Shui Sheng, and Jia Wang—we can't do it without any of the three of them. You must remember their kindness."

"I remember, Dad. The fish has been divided, one portion for each family."

Chen Laosan didn't say anything more.

He picked up the jar and downed the remaining wine in one gulp, a drop of liquid trickling down the corner of his mouth.

He wiped his face with his sleeve and started eating again.

Zhang Cuihua listened from the side, then put a piece of fish on Chen Laosan's plate, and then put another piece on Chen Zheng's plate.

"Eat, stop talking."

The fish meat comes from the fish head; it's white and tender, and you can easily peel it off with chopsticks.

Dipping it in the milky white fish soup and putting it in your mouth, it's so delicious you could swallow your tongue.

The fish melts in your mouth, tender and smooth, with a sweet taste, the kind of sweetness that comes from being raised in lake water.

Chen Feng ate until his forehead was covered in sweat.

He looked up and asked his mother, "Mom, why does this fish taste so good?"

Zhang Cuihua smiled: "The fish head soup is delicious when it's cooked properly and the heat is just right."

"Then I'll eat fish head soup every day from now on!"

Zhang Cuihua reached out and slapped him on the head: "Eat it every day? You wish! Where would you get so many big fish?"

Do you think your brother can bring back forty pounds of bluefish every day?

Chen Feng pouted and then lowered his head to eat his pancake.

Chen Rong remained silent and ate quietly.

He ate slowly, chewing a piece of fish for a long time before swallowing it.

He didn't shovel it away like Chen Feng.

Instead, use the tip of your chopsticks to pick up a tiny bit, put it in your mouth, and chew it slowly.

When eating cornbread, break off a small piece and nibble on it slowly.

He scooped the fish soup from the bowl one spoonful at a time, blowing on each spoonful before drinking it once it had cooled down.

Chen Zheng looked at him and recalled his past life.

When Chen Rong was fourteen, a photographer came to the village and set up a stall at the village entrance with a backdrop of Tiananmen Square painted on it.

All the children in the village went to have their pictures taken, one for each person, black and white, for two cents.

Chen Rong also wanted to go, but he didn't ask his family for money.

He spent the whole day catching snails in the lake, and when he came back at night, he picked out the meat one by one under the light of a kerosene lamp.

The next day, before dawn, he took it to town, walked fifteen miles, and sold it for a few cents.

He spent two cents to have his picture taken, and returned the remaining six cents to Zhang Cuihua.

He kept that photo.

Later, when Chen Zheng was working in the city, Chen Rong sent him a note.

The back of the photo reads: "Brother, I'm doing fine at home, don't worry about me."

The handwriting was crooked and messy, and a few of them were even wrong. It was covered up and corrected again.

In the photo, Chen Rong is thin and dark-skinned, squinting, and smiling cautiously.

He was wearing a blue cloth shirt that was clearly a size too big, with the sleeves rolled up several times and the collar turned white.

The Tiananmen Square in the background is drawn crookedly, but he stands upright.

Chen Zheng has kept that photo all this time.

I moved several times afterward, from the construction site dormitory to a rented house, and then to another rented house, and accidentally lost it.

He searched for several days, turning over all his luggage, but couldn't find it.

That night, he sat on the bed in his rented room and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes, leaving cigarette butts all over the floor.

Chen Zheng thought for a moment, then picked up a piece of fish and put it in Chen Rong's bowl: "Eat more."

Chen Rong raised his head and glanced at him.

That glance was quick, like a dragonfly skimming the water, touching it briefly before withdrawing.

He nodded, kept his head down, and continued eating.

But he saved that piece of fish for last, eating it bite by bite over a long time.

Chen Feng, seeing this from the side, became displeased and stuck his chopsticks into the bowl.

"Brother! Why are you only putting food on my brother's plate and not mine?"

Chen Zheng laughed and put a piece on his plate as well: "Okay, okay, I'll put one on your plate too."

Chen Feng was finally satisfied. He stuffed the fish into his mouth, chewed it a couple of times, and mumbled:

"Hey bro, are you going to the lake again tomorrow? Can you take me with you?"

"No, you're too young. It's dangerous for you to go into the lake."

"I'm not a kid anymore! I'm twelve!"

Chen Feng puffed out his chest, took a deep breath, and tried to make himself look stronger.

But he was so thin that his chest was just a layer of skin covering his ribs, and you couldn't see anything even when he took a breath.

"Twelve is still too young. I'll take care of you when you're two years older."

Chen Feng pouted, poking at the fish soup at the bottom of the bowl with his chopsticks.

"Knock knock!"

He stopped talking, but his lips were so pouting you could hang an oil bottle on them.

After finishing her meal, Zhang Cuihua cleared away the dishes.

Chen Zheng quickly stood up, stacked the bowls and chopsticks, carried them into the kitchen, and scooped two ladles of water into the pot.

Zhang Cuihua followed and was about to reach out when Chen Zheng gently pushed her aside, saying, "Mom, your back isn't good, let me do it."

Zhang Cuihua didn't let her go, but stood beside the stove, saying:

"You're a grown man, why are you washing dishes? People will laugh at you if word gets out."

"Who's laughing at me?" Chen Zheng didn't even look up, already grabbing a loofah. "I'll wash mine, who cares about them?"

Zhang Cuihua wanted to say something more, but seeing his clumsy movements, she couldn't help but offer a few pointers:

"You have to wipe the bottom of the bowl too; you can't get it clean just by turning it around once."

Chen Rong and Chen Feng had already returned to the west room.

At this point, Chen Zheng washed each bowl clean, rinsed them with water, and put them upside down in the cupboard.

I washed the pot again and wiped the stove.

Zhang Cuihua leaned against the door frame, looking at it without saying a word, but her eyes showed satisfaction.

After wiping his hands, he draped the rag over the rope behind the door and returned to the main room.

Only he and his father remained in the main room.

The kerosene lamp sat on the table, its flame flickering and dancing.

"Snapped!"

The wick had just been trimmed, so it wasn't too smoky, but occasionally a spark would pop, sending out a few flecks.

The shadows of the two people were cast on the wall, one large and one small, swaying back and forth with the light.

"Zhengwazi".

Chen Laosan took another sip of wine and put the jar down.

"father."

Chen Laosan remained silent for a while.

He could hear his own breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock!"

That bell was made by the village carpenter; it had a wooden casing and was the kind that could be wound up.

It takes almost five minutes to walk there, but their house has never changed its layout.

"I won't stop you from going to the lake today."

Chen Laosan finally spoke, his voice low.

"But you have to remember, our family relies on water for our livelihood."

This Baiyang Lake has nurtured our family for generations; you have to respect it and not act on your whims.

"The lake knows how much you take from it. If you take too much, it won't give you any more next time."

"Understood, Father."

"besides,"

As Chen Laosan spoke, he rubbed his fingers along the edge of the jar, his fingernails embedded with black mud.

That's because it's been soaking in the lake water for years, it's very difficult to wash off.

"Your mother isn't well, you know that?"

Chen Zheng felt a tightness in his chest, as if someone had grabbed his hand.

In his past life, his mother passed away five years later.

Stomach cancer, it was already in its late stage when it was discovered, and I didn't survive more than three months.

In those few months, his father's hair turned white overnight, like frost on a lake.

He was working in the city at that time, and he couldn't leave his job on the construction site.

When he rushed back, his mother had become so thin that she looked unrecognizable, lying on the bed like a sheet of paper.

Even with the blanket covering them, you couldn't tell there was someone underneath.

His cheekbones were prominent, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and his skin was so thin that you could see the blood vessels underneath.

But when she saw him, she smiled and said, "Zhengwa, you're back? Have you eaten? Mom will cook for you."

As she spoke, she tried to sit up, but her arms gave way and she fell back down.

That was the last thing his mother said to him.

His mother left the next morning.

They left quietly.

When her father brought the porridge in, it was already cold.

The porridge bowl fell to the ground and shattered into pieces, spilling porridge all over the floor.

His father squatted there, picking up the pieces one by one, only to have them fall again, his hands shaking violently.

Thinking about it, Chen Zheng clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palm, causing a sharp pain.

"What's wrong with Mom?"

"Your mother has a bad stomach; she's been complaining of stomach pain for the past few years."

I suggested she go to town to check on things, but she refused, saying it was fine and she could just bear with it.

As Chen Laosan spoke, he picked up the jar, intending to take a sip, but then put it down and tapped the rim of the jar twice with his fingers.

Knock knock!

"Father, we have to go."

"I know."

Old Chen sighed, and the sigh was very long.

"But you know how stubborn she is, she won't listen to me."

Last month I brought it up again, and she asked me how much it would cost to go to town.

Registration costs 50 cents, transportation costs 30 cents, and with some medicine, two dollars are gone.

With that money, wouldn't it be better to buy Fengzi a pair of shoes?

His shoes were so tight his toes were sticking out.

"I'll go tell them," Chen Zheng said immediately.

Chen Laosan glanced at him and nodded.

There was something in that look, like someone handing over a burden.

"Dad, I'm taking Rongzi to the lake tomorrow. He's fourteen now, it's time for him to learn how to swim."

Chen Laosan remained silent for a while.

"Snapped!"

A spark flew out and landed on the table, darkening the screen.

"Okay. But you have to keep an eye on him and not let him show off. Rongzi is different from you."

You can swim like a fish, no matter how much you struggle, you're fine.

He's not good enough; he's not as good a swimmer as you, and he's got something on his mind, so he gets flustered when he gets anxious.

"Watch him from the water's edge and make sure he doesn't go into the deeper water."

"Father, I understand."

Chen Zheng stood up and walked out.

He walked to the door, then stopped and looked back.

His father sat there, holding a jar, the lamplight shining on his face.

The face looked even older in the shadows, with deep wrinkles, some as deep as if carved by a knife, others as shallow as a spider web.

The white hair at his temples shone brightly under the lamplight.

He was wearing a patched cloth shirt, one button missing from the collar, revealing a section of his collarbone; he was so thin that you could see the shape of his bones.

In his previous life, his father was only fifty-two years old when he passed away.

At fifty-two years old, his hair was completely white, his back was hunched, and he leaned forward when he walked.

To be more specific, it's like an old tree bent over by the wind.

"Dad, drink less alcohol."

Chen Laosan was stunned for a moment.

He looked up at his son, his lips moving slightly.

Then, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes gathered together.

"Alright, I got it. Go ahead."