As we were leaving, the shop owner said with a smile:
"The old man is going with his grandson to enjoy his golden years! But if you don't mind me saying, I've watched this boy Phuong grow up since he was little. He's handsome, alright, but I don't know why he's so taciturn."
The shop owner's clear, high-pitched voice carried far. I have never been good at interacting with women like her; I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Fortunately, my grandfather only exchanged a few simple words as well.
After finishing our shopping for miscellaneous items, we began our journey back.
When we arrived back at the village, the sun had not yet set, but a look at the clock showed it was already nine o'clock at night. Lately, the days were truly getting longer and longer.
As soon as we reached the village entrance, I stopped the truck and placed the neighbors' pre-sorted items in one spot for them to come and pick up themselves. Back home, I arranged a place for my grandfather to stay, put away our things, and then went to return the truck.
Just as I stepped out the door, the chubby guy who lived down the slope said hurriedly:
"Phuong, your parents' grave has collapsed! Go check it out quickly; it's a bad omen."
I thanked him, went back home to grab my tools, and headed out immediately.
My parents' grave was located on the hill behind our house, not too far away. If you walked quickly, it would only take half an hour to get there. When I arrived, I saw that the entrance to the tomb, which had been repaired just a few years ago, had now partially collapsed. The elders in the village were very superstitious about this sort of thing, and I didn't plan on asking them for help to avoid making things awkward for them.
Perhaps it was because the weather had been so dry lately, causing the soil underneath to become hollow. Any external impact could easily cause it to collapse. The collapsed section wasn't that large, so I jumped straight down into the pit.
It was my own parents' grave; what was there to be afraid of?
At the bottom of the grave pit, right against the inner side, there was a cavity where the soil was loose. I took the hoe, intending to shovel more dirt into it. Just as I bent down, a streak of green and red flashed past my eyes, and a slight pain shot through my thumb.
The thing had quickly slithered away.
I examined the wound. It was a common rat snake from the fields, non-venomous. In the past, many people used to specialize in catching this type to eat.
At that moment, the sun was beginning to set. A gust of wind from the forest blew past, sending a chill down my spine, and my heart filled with a sudden panic. I figured I'd deal with it tomorrow; it couldn't be finished quickly anyway.
As I pulled the hoe out of the pit, I saw something white in the soft earth. I used the hoe to dig it out. It was a small, round bead, and it felt very smooth in my hand. Its surface seemed to have faint patterns, which were impossible to see clearly at the moment.
My wound, which hadn't stopped bleeding, oozed again, and a drop of blood fell onto the bead.
I wondered if this thing was some kind of antique.
When I got home, my grandfather had already cooked dinner. The leftover smoked meat from before was sliced and stir-fried with leeks, and there was also a salad made from the fresh mustard greens we bought today. A fragrant fried-garlic sauce was drizzled over a plate of boiled pork belly; the aroma was truly enticing.
"What happened to your hand?" Seeing me washing my hands at the well pump, with a streak of blood still on them, my grandfather was a little alarmed.
I took out the first-aid kit to bandage my hand, then helped my grandfather to the dining table:
"It's nothing, Grandpa. Just a bite from a rat snake, it only broke the skin a little."
My grandfather nodded but still looked at my finger with concern. A warmth I hadn't felt in a long time welled up inside me. In this world, the only person left who worried about me like this was my grandfather.
As for the bead I had found, I didn't give it much more thought. I was afraid of getting my hopes up for nothing, and even more afraid of worrying my elderly grandfather, whose health was too fragile for any sudden shocks. It was best to talk about it later.
This meal gave me a real appetite. With just these few dishes, I ate three full bowls of white rice before I felt satisfied.
"Grandpa, in a few days, I plan to finish plowing the remaining fields and plant them right away so we can get a harvest in the fall."
My grandfather looked at me kindly, a little worried:
"The temperature has been very high lately. I'm afraid it will be difficult for the crops to survive if you plant them now."
I cleared the dishes:
"I've thought it through. For the plots in front of and behind the house, I'll pump water from the well to irrigate them myself. For the closer plots, I'll divert a stream of water from the creek behind the garden. As for the more distant ones, I'll plant drought-resistant crops."
My grandfather nodded with a smile:
"It's good that you've thought it through so carefully. Since you've decided, go ahead and do it."
My grandfather watched TV for a while before taking a bath and resting. The sky had just turned dark, but the clock on my phone already showed it was nearly eleven at night.
In recent years, the village had gotten roads and electricity, but there was still no internet. This place was too remote. If you wanted to make a phone call, you had to climb onto the roof, and only if you were lucky could you find a single bar of signal. Modern smart electronic devices were useless in this small, remote village. People didn't need alarm clocks to wake up; they would just head to the fields to work as soon as they heard the rooster crow.
The next day, after repairing my parents' grave, I returned the pickup truck to Uncle Ba. His new litter of piglets happened to be ready for weaning, so I took the opportunity to buy a pair. The backyard of my house was spacious, and a pigsty had already been built, just right for this pair of piglets to live in.
Many families in the village raised goats, but none of them had any goat kids. I asked several families and ran around for the whole afternoon. The scorching sun made my skin burn. In the end, I came up with nothing and couldn't help but feel a little discouraged.
Uncle Ba was taking a long drag from his water pipe and called me over:
"Phuong, stop running around. I heard my mother-in-law's goat is about to give birth. In a few days, I'll be going over there to deliver some water, and I'll bring a few back for you."
I hurriedly thanked him and gave him a few packs of cigarettes I had brought with me. Uncle Ba tucked the cigarettes into his shirt pocket and turned to go back into his yard.
I've learned that by offering a small kindness when you can, people are more willing to help you with your own troubles. And that's a good principle to live by.