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墨書 Inktalez
My cousin is getting married.
In the autumn of 1979, this news began to circulate in our family. First, the adults discussed it, and then us children also began to feel it keenly.
My cousin is exactly ten years older than me, born on the twenty-eighth day of the eleventh month of the lunar calendar in 1959. Although she was born during the extremely difficult "Three Years of Hardship" that the adults often reminisce about, and despite working in physical labor in the countryside for a long time after graduating from middle school, my cousin did not become thin and weak like most people in our yard.
In my eyes, my aunt was slightly plump, with two ordinary thick braids adorning her head. Her round face radiated a youthful vitality and smile, and she wasn't very fond of talking, which was a stark contrast to my other aunt, who was quite the chatterbox; whenever she returned to her family home, her voice would echo throughout the courtyard. She also rarely played with us kids.
According to rural customs, a girl preparing for marriage needed to gather a dowry. By this time, our small family had separated from the larger family of my grandparents. My grandfather worked hard in the Large Plot Gardening Area; although he didn't receive government rations, he earned the highest work points as a man. Both my aunt and uncle had grown up and were earning decent work points in the Production Team. Our family's financial situation had improved significantly, and the overall material conditions in society had greatly advanced compared to previous years. My father, as the elder brother, served as the principal of a middle school in Suining, a mountainous region with vast forests, allowing him access to some cheap yet high-quality timber.
This was the first time in nearly twenty years that our extended family was marrying off a daughter, so the preparations for the dowry were particularly grand. We hired a well-known carpenter from nearby, who brought along two apprentices and occupied the spacious hall of our old house. They busily worked away for two to three months, creating a symphony of clinks and clatters. After school, we often saw the carpenter smoothing planks with his plane and drilling connecting holes into wooden beams with a steel chisel. At first, there were also two strong sawyers who buzzed and whirred as they sawed logs into planks and beams.
While we admired the carpenter's exceptional skills, we occasionally managed to snag a couple of slices of meat or a few pieces of tofu from the dishes Grandma prepared for the craftsmen. The deliciousness of those meals lingered in our memories for days.
Coincidentally, the second daughter of our cousin living at the other end of the old house was also getting married that year, and remarkably, the date chosen by the fortune teller was the same as that of my aunt's wedding. Since both families shared a common hall, according to the elders, it would be inauspicious if one bride crossed the threshold after the other. My grandparents had always been kind-hearted, and although Grandpa served as a grassroots cadre in the countryside and Dad was the first official cadre in our village to receive state rations, they never thought to leverage their status to compete for precedence.
Fortunately, our small family had already separated, and a few years prior, we had built a new brick house. After a family meeting, we unanimously decided to have my aunt move in with us two months before her wedding so she could leave directly from our home on her big day, thus avoiding any potential conflicts over timing and any possible bad luck.
My young aunt moved in with us, and all the pre-marriage ceremonial activities were held in our home. At that time, resources were not very abundant, so events like matchmaking, Dragon Boat Festival gifts, engagement ceremonies, and selecting an auspicious date for the wedding were kept simple. Usually, a few people from the future in-laws would come with a couple of baskets of gifts, set off some firecrackers, and have a relatively sumptuous meal.
Even so, as a nephew of less than ten years old, I could still sense that my young aunt's family was relatively well-off, probably stronger than any family in our neighborhood. Her father was particularly easy to get along with and loved to entertain children. Every time he visited, he would give us siblings some candy and sometimes perform some foreign tricks that we couldn't quite understand.
The day of my young aunt's marriage finally arrived, and the day before, my mother helped me get three days off from school and said she had a mysterious and important task for me.
Time flowed slowly in my eager anticipation, as relatives from our large family gradually arrived at our home. As dusk approached, the sound of firecrackers erupted from the ridge across the way, their rhythm lively and their volume loud. The older children, who understood the significance, proudly declared, "These are firecrackers made with explosives; they’re louder and crisper than those made with gunpowder."
Amidst the crisp sounds, a group of about ten people appeared on the ridge, making their way toward our yard. I could clearly see that the two young men at the front were carrying two large pieces of pork on a bamboo frame, each piece seemingly larger than the pig we raised at home. At the front of the frame, a brand new lantern hung on each side, casting a faint glow. The others followed behind, all dressed in bright new clothes, carrying newly woven baskets adorned with red paper cutouts of the character "Happiness," covering the entire basket so that it was impossible to see what was inside.
In the midst of the excitement, time passed particularly quickly. Although we didn’t have a custom of eating dinner in our yard at that time, we still set up several tables to entertain our guests. The spread of chicken, duck, fish, and meat was even more lavish than during the New Year celebrations, allowing us to feast heartily. Grandma mentioned that all this was brought over by Uncle's family.
As people slowly began to disperse, Grandma and Aunt stayed behind, gathering around our home, sitting next to my younger aunt, chatting about family matters. Grandma advised my younger aunt to be diligent and efficient after getting married, to do more and speak less. Aunt reminded her which leg to step out with tomorrow and which foot to move first when entering the house. Mom told her to focus on being a good daughter-in-law for her in-laws, assuring her that I would take care of the two elders at home...
As they spoke, suddenly cries erupted; first, my younger aunt's soft sobs, followed by Grandma's choked words. Soon, everyone in the room had red-rimmed eyes, while I, still oblivious to the world around me, ran back and forth in the room.
Early the next morning, before dawn, Mom woke me up and entrusted me with an important task: to carry a pair of new fireboxes and set off with my younger aunt and uncle ahead of the platoon. She solemnly instructed me not to let anyone else do it for me and not to set the fireboxes down along the way. Upon arriving at my uncle's house, I was to hand them over to their elder immediately, watching as they transferred the fire from the boxes into the brazier.
I was so exhausted. Even though the two fireboxes weighed no more than five or six pounds combined, my little hands couldn’t rest for a moment. I had to walk over ten miles without letting anyone help me or allowing the fireboxes to touch the ground. I was truly worn out.
When I arrived at my uncle's house, I watched as they placed the firewood into the fire pit, and then I found a spot to rest. There were some rituals taking place that I knew nothing about, and it wasn't until someone called me that I found a place to sit down for dinner.
After the meal, my uncle handed me a small red envelope. However, my parents had always taught me not to take things from others casually, so I stubbornly refused to accept it. It wasn't until my mother spoke up that I reluctantly took my very first red envelope.
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