As soon as I approached my grandfather's house, I was stunned. I saw that the room was hung with papers of all sizes, some were blank, and some were painted with landscapes. Even under the moonlight, you could see how beautiful they were.
My grandfather never knew how to draw, and after his death, I also entered his room and there were no such things, so it could only be painted by Wu Tinghan.
But what I don’t understand is, why is she painting these things? Also, why are there so many blank sheets of paper hung up even though they clearly have nothing on them? How troublesome will it be to take it off when the time comes to paint?
But now is not the time to think about this. I found the sewing box from the cabinet, took out an embroidery needle, and went out.
At this time, I saw Mr. Wang taking out the water tank from the kitchen and placing it next to the grave.
When he saw me coming out, he took the embroidery needle from my hand, then took out a yellow talisman and wrapped the embroidery needle in a ball. Then with a flick of his wrist, the yellow talisman caught fire.
When I saw this, I hurriedly stretched out my hand to stop it, and in my heart I wanted to ask Mr. Wang what he was doing. The embroidery needle I just found, are you going to burn it in a blink of an eye? ----I have seen the skills of their craftsmen. A fire can burn all the corpses of mice and insects in the yard!
But fortunately, the yellow talisman burned out before I had time to say it, and the embroidery needle remained the same as before and did not disappear. Otherwise, as soon as I said those words, I would definitely be laughed at by Mr. Wang again.
After the yellow talisman was burned, Mr. Wang put his hands together, sandwiched the embroidery needle between the pads of his two middle fingers, then knelt down towards the entrance of the courtyard, and read loudly: The thick soil, the sparkling wild crossing , Wang Minghua, the unworthy descendant, begs the ancestors to lead the way!
After he finished reciting, he held the embroidery needle between the thumb of his left hand and the bent nail of his middle finger, then closed his eyes, flicked his wrist without looking, and then flicked his finger, and the embroidery needle seemed to be Like a bullet, it shot straight towards the basin in the coffin.
There was only a pop sound. The embroidery needle entered the water and was nailed to the bottom of the basin accurately. Half of the needle body was inserted into it. It stood right in front of the photo frame of the portrait. It was impartial and not too much. Every detail is correct, blocking the downward trend of portrait photo frames.
I was stunned by Mr. Wang's hand. How strong is it to push this little embroidery needle into the basin? And half of the needle was inserted!
You know, this washbasin is a common wooden washbasin in rural areas. The wood made of it is very hard and durable. Even a nail needs to be hammered hard with a hammer to nail it in, let alone a small embroidered one. Needle.
Also, I always thought that Mr. Wang could only do those big things, but I never expected that he was proficient in such a delicate job. What's even weirder is that when he popped out the embroidery needle, his eyes were completely closed!
I asked Mr. Wang, can he play so accurately with his eyes closed?
He shook his head and said that if his ancestors hadn't led the way, he might not have been able to play accurately if he had been given old bullets for a lifetime.
Let me tell you, this is a bit too exaggerated, right? What makes perfect, as long as you practice more, it will take ten years to practice, and with a little bit of luck, you can always succeed, right?
Mr. Wang sneered and said, if you think so, then you are too underestimated.
Let me tell you, doesn't this idiom describe too many corpses? Can the corpses be measured in swamps? What other considerations can there be?
Mr. Wang snorted coldly and said, "Look, there is mud and dead grass in this basin?"
I'm a little confused, why ask if it's so clear? Definitely not!
He said, since there is no chance, then do you think this can survive the swamp?
I was stunned for a moment after hearing this, and then said, wouldn't that be simpler? If there really were those things inside the basin, wouldn't it be more difficult to pinpoint it with an embroidery needle?
Mr. Wang said, fart! If there were those things, it would be easier. I could just find a stick and stick it in. But because I don’t have those things, I can only insert the embroidery needle. Which one is easier? I want you to tell me?
This time I was even more puzzled. Then why don't you insert a stick now to stop the downward trend of the portrait, but use an embroidery needle instead?
Mr. Wang did not answer me, but pointed to a piece of bamboo that he had not used when he was making me a paper mannequin stand-in, and said, "Can you try to poke it in with that bamboo?"
I know that Mr. Wang is testing me, and I also know that he has relaxed a lot after stabilizing the downward trend of portraits. Otherwise, he would not have the leisure and leisure to test me.
I have no intention of competing with him, but I just want to know if I can stop him with a stick if I encounter something like this again in the future. After all, I don't have the ability to flick a needle like him.
So I picked up the bamboo pole and plunged it into the basin...
I thought I could easily insert it to the end, but the bamboo pole sank more than half of the way, and I didn't even get it all the way in. Instead, I almost fell headlong into the grave because I used too much force!
If Mr. Wang hadn't reached out and grabbed my back collar in time, I would have definitely fallen into the coffin and been beaten into pieces.
Mr. Wang said with a smile that it is not just a matter of throwing a dog and eating its shit. If you plunge into the basin, even I may not be able to pick you up. Even if I find a way to fish you out, you will still be dead.
I looked at the bamboo pole with only a small section left, and I was extremely surprised.
Everyone has seen the basin for washing your face. How deep can it be? Why is this bamboo pole inserted so long but still not inserted all the way?
And looking at this trend, it seems like the bamboo pole can’t be inserted to the bottom no matter how long it is!
Although my face was full of shock, I now completely believe that what Mr. Wang said is true. I really can’t penetrate it to the end with a stick!
Just, why is this happening?
Mr. Wang said, because the word "ze" now does not mean a swamp, but a lake or even the sea! Do you think a stick can be inserted into the bottom of a lake or ocean?
Hearing this, I suddenly realized, shook my head and said, that definitely won't work.
But an embroidery needle is shorter than a stick, so how can it work?
Mr. Wang said, because this is the trick of Zhi (zhi, three tones, pronounced the same as the paper) craftsman, it is called "Dinghai Shenzhen"! Do you think it can be inserted to the end?
If it is really the Dinghai Shenzhen, what else is there to say? Let alone rivers, lakes and seas, even the Pacific Ocean can be inserted to the bottom to stabilize you! It's easy to stop a mere photo frame of a deceased person.
But, is there really such a thing in the world like the legendary golden cudgel of Sun Wukong? And who is this blacksmith? Why have I never heard of it before?
Mr. Wang said, I don’t know if there is a golden hoop, but it is true that Dayu controlled the floods. As for the craftsmen, they are a group of people who specialize in needlework. The shrouds worn by the dead are made by their hands.
Well, if there are shoemakers who make shoes for the dead, then naturally there are shoemakers who make shrouds for the dead. This is not difficult to understand. It's just that I didn't know at all before that this kind of people are actually craftsmen.
Mr. Wang said that nowadays all high-tech assembly line machines are used for production, so where can we be used? The things our ancestors dropped will probably be thrown away after a while. By that time, if something really happens, I won't even know what you are doing.
I know that Mr. Wang does not have much resistance to the progress of the times, otherwise he would not have said popular Internet words such as "don't do gay sex" and "give someone a head". What he is really worried about is that the craftsmanship passed down by the older generation will be lost.
After he finished speaking, he walked towards the kitchen. I didn't know what he was going to do, so I had to squat next to the grave and stare at the washbasin inside the coffin to see if the portrait would continue to slide down.
After watching it for a while, I didn't see the reason. After all, the portrait was not sliding down very fast. Now that it was blocked by the embroidery needle, it was even harder to see the movement.
The more I looked at this washbasin, the more I sighed. A bamboo pole more than ten meters long could not be inserted all the way, but a small embroidery needle could. How on earth did this washbasin do it?
Before I could figure it out, Mr. Wang came out of the kitchen, carrying two wooden buckets and two plastic buckets in his hands. When we walked to the dividing pit, he handed me one and then told me to follow me.
I asked him what he was doing?
He said that if you take a bucket, you are naturally carrying water. What could Han possibly be doing? Shit Mai?
I mean, the village has running water.
The village does have running water. The whole village worked together to dig a ditch from the mountains and connect it with water pipes, so that the whole village can have running water. I'm afraid Mr. Wang doesn't know, so I'll give you a reminder.
But Mr. Wang said, I have been staying in your village for a few days. How can I know?
Let me tell you, since you know, why would you sacrifice the near and seek the far to fetch water?
Mr. Wang said it was because tap water could not be used.
Okay, just pretend I didn't ask.
I was holding a bucket in my hand, snatched the other bucket from Mr. Wang’s hand, and was about to go out.
But at this moment, I saw Mr. Wang suddenly turned around and turned his head, and there was even more surprise in his mouth.
I quickly turned around to look, and then I saw that the embroidery needle that was half-embedded in the basin slowly floated up...
And the photo frame started to slide down again, and the speed of the slide could be clearly distinguished with the naked eye this time!
