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墨書 Inktalez
Last time, after Old Wei and I evacuated from that mountain village, Old Wei was in a state of panic, while I was deep in thought about the reasons behind it all. Perhaps it was due to my years of medical training; even when faced with things beyond my understanding, my subconscious would lead me to doubt and attempt to explain them using my existing knowledge. Unfortunately, this mystery remained unsolvable for me, and I had no choice but to give up. Thus, I swayed back to the village on horseback.
Old Wei was quite shaken by the experience, but after heeding my advice, he kept his thoughts to himself. No one would believe us if we shared our story. Judging by Old Wei's demeanor, it seemed he was unwilling to set foot in that place again.
Upon returning to the Township Office and taking a moment to recover, we began visiting other villages for home visits. The subsequent families we visited were relatively smooth. The children from Guangxi's mountain villages were hardworking and resilient—honest people by nature. I could easily tell such qualities in children and liked them very much. Therefore, I focused on political scrutiny, mainly checking if their families had committed any political errors or been involved in criminal cases. Once they passed these checks, I informed them to participate in the re-examination at the Armed Department in the county at the end of the month.
Perhaps because I never put on airs or demanded anything from them, the parents here were very sincere. Although they lived in a mountain village with poor conditions, they always offered us their best hospitality—without exception, it was fatty pork stewed with cabbage along with homemade liquor. Naturally, I forced myself to eat and drink despite feeling nauseous; thankfully, having learned from my previous experience, I managed to avoid getting drunk. Although this seemed wasteful, as they put it: better to have a body full of holes than a heart full of cracks!
Well, it was fortunate that there was only home left. So my body continued to "have holes" until we reached the last family—the fifth one—where things took another turn.
The fifth child's name was Nong Youren; he had just turned eighteen and lived in a village nestled in a mountain hollow at the southernmost part of the township, where transportation was quite inconvenient. Thus, Old Wei and I had to ride our horses toward our journey's end once more. At this point, the weather began to turn gloomy; fortunately, it didn't rain. This area had been like this for some time—sunny days were rare, mostly overcast with occasional rain.
I won't dwell on the journey; suffice it to say it was rugged. After nearly jostling my bones apart, we turned a corner and arrived at a village surrounded by mountains—our destination: Nongjia Village.
In Nongjia Village, most residents shared the surname Nong. Like many villages in China, it was a natural village formed by relatives and clans. According to Old Wei, there weren't many people—just over a hundred. The village chief also bore the surname Nong; he appeared to be around Old Wei's age—a hearty farmer with a cheerful disposition.
After hurrying along the way, we finally reached our destination around noon. The village chief had been waiting for us at the Village Entrance and led us to Nong Youren's home. From his clumsy Mandarin, I gathered that Nong Youren's family conditions were decent; he had a younger sister and had graduated from middle school. He helped with farm work at home and voluntarily expressed his desire to enlist in the military as soon as he turned eighteen.
Since this was the last family visit, I felt much more relaxed. Once we finished here, Old Wei and I could ride our horses back to the nearest Provincial Road and hitch a ride back to the county. The remaining time would be spent waiting for the re-examination at the end of the month—ah! During this time, I could go online and play games; how delightful! No wonder everyone was eager to join the military.
This village wasn't too remote; many families had added an extra floor onto their main houses while using side rooms as kitchens or storage rooms. It was evident that this village's conditions were better than those of several previous ones; it seemed that villages further south tended to have better living standards.
Nong Youren's house followed this pattern as well. When we arrived at his doorstep, his family was already waiting for us outside. Nong Youren's father seemed younger than Old Wei; he appeared somewhat shy but warmly approached us to lead our horses into their yard. Nong Youren's mother looked like an ordinary rural woman—plain yet kind-hearted. Beside them stood a buddy who wasn’t very tall but thin with a sharp face; he looked quite spirited with large expressive eyes that kept blinking at me curiously. Interestingly enough, one of his eyes was single-lidded while the other was double-lidded—a peculiar sight indeed! After introductions from the village chief, we learned that Nong Youren’s younger sister had gone off to school; only three of them remained at home. After exchanging pleasantries with everyone, I turned to Nong Youren and said, "You must be Nong Youren."
He nodded, thought for a moment, and suddenly exclaimed, "I definitely want to join the army!" His words sparked laughter among those around him. Before I arrived, I had heard from the people at the Armed Department that many children, not understanding the situation, would cry and shout about wanting to enlist. During home visits, some even rolled on the ground in protest. So, home visits could reveal a lot.
I laughed along, patting his shoulder as we all entered the courtyard. Nong Youren's father handed the horse over to Nong to tie up and led us into the Main Hall on the first floor. The village chief informed us that lunch was already prepared at their home and suggested having some drinks. I quickly intervened. Since this was the last stop, I really didn’t want to return home either drunk or hungry; a simple meal would suffice without needing to drink.
Seeing my insistence, the village chief and Nong Youren's father didn’t press further; perhaps they weren’t big drinkers themselves. Nong Youren's wife began setting the table and serving dishes. Noticing that it was still early, I decided to have lunch before starting the home visits, so I didn’t ask too many questions of Nong. Instead, I chatted with him briefly at the dining table, mostly inquiring about his education and upbringing, and also spoke with Nong's father about family matters to grasp the basic situation.
After lunch, everyone chatted in the Main Hall. I formally began discussions with Nong's father and mother, focusing on political stance, social relations, overseas connections, and family education while taking notes. After a while, I felt I had gathered enough information about their family background—ordinary people with a clean record, just like several other families I had encountered.
I closed my notebook and smiled at Nong’s father. "Now, can I talk with Nong?" He agreed and called out loudly, "You Ren! You Ren!" There was no response. After a few more calls with still no answer, he awkwardly smiled at me and went outside to look for him.
The village chief comforted me, saying that rural kids are honest but tend to be wild; after a meal, they might get invited out by other children to play. I didn’t take it to heart and sat chatting with the village chief about local customs while waiting for Nong to return.
To my surprise, it took quite a while for Nong’s father to come back empty-handed. "I couldn’t find him near the entrance; he might have run off far," he said awkwardly. "I'll send someone to look for him. Leader, could you wait a bit longer?"
I found it strange but didn’t dwell on it; kids often lack a sense of urgency and might have gone off somewhere to show off to their friends!
At that moment, the village chief stood up as well to accompany him in searching. I casually said, "You all go look for him; I'm not in a hurry. I'll take a stroll and check out Nong's room instead. Mom can show me the way."
Nong’s father quickly agreed and asked Nong’s mother to accompany me while he rushed out with the village chief. Following Nong’s mother, we arrived at the door of the room on the left side of the Main Hall. She stood by the door and said, "Leader, this is You Ren's room."
I pushed open the door and peeked inside—darkness! It was pitch black! I couldn’t see anything at all. Instinctively, I reached out along the wall by the door; I thought I could grab a light switch but found nothing! Wasn’t there a switch on the wall? Confused, I turned to Farm Mother and said, "Could you help me turn on the light?"
Nong’s mother looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Leader; there’s no light installed in You Ren's room." No light? Really? My first reaction was disbelief; surely they could afford it given their circumstances. Seeing my confusion, she continued, "You Ren has somewhat special eyes that can’t tolerate bright lights—even light bulbs—so we didn’t install any lights in his room and usually keep the curtains drawn."
"This is so strange!" I casually remarked, "Doesn't it affect normal life and studies?"
"Not at all. This child, for some reason, sees better the darker it gets," said the Farm Mother.
"Hmm? It must be because of the increased Rod Cells," I replied instinctively, drawing from my years of medical training.
The Farm Mother might not know what Rod Cells were, as she didn’t respond. I opened the door wide; the light inside improved a bit. I took a few steps in, curious to see this child's room. Sometimes, the arrangement of a person's living space can reveal much about their personality and habits.
Standing in the center of the room, it took a while for my eyes to adjust to the dimness. I blinked and then scanned the room with the light from the Main Hall. The room was small, no more than a dozen square meters, and the furniture was quite simple. Directly opposite the door was a bed, with its foot facing the entrance. The bedding and some clothes were neatly stacked on it, indicating that this child was likely tidy and diligent. Not far from the head of the bed was a desk, presumably the child's study area, with a row of books standing upright and a desk lamp beside them. To the right was a window, covered tightly with curtains that blocked out any light. I shook my head; afraid of light? That was indeed an odd trait. Further to the right stood a wardrobe, likely filled with the child's clothes. The entire room was clean and refreshing; the only downside was how dark it was. As I thought this, I walked two steps over to sit at the desk. Looking at the neatly arranged row of books, I mused that in rural areas, children who had access to such books were quite rare. It seemed he really loved reading. I randomly pulled out one book to see what kind of literature this child enjoyed.
It was an old, yellowed book. As I opened it, three characters caught my eye; I couldn't make them out clearly at first. Leaning slightly to catch more light from outside, I managed to read—"Yin-Yang Eyes"!
(To be continued; tomorrow will be even more exciting!)
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