C227 The Pots of the Guqiang People

Therefore, on this winter night, accompanied by the strong fragrance of Sichuan hotpot, after a tense bargain, Zhou Boyi and Huang Weidong finally reached an agreement at the end of dinner.

The next morning, a very secretive piece of news quietly spread among the various departments of Hucheng Group's headquarters when the employees just got to work. Before noon, everyone knew about it.

Fan Wenbin had a mental illness because of his wife's misfortune. It was already very serious, and it was very likely that he would not be able to recover from it. It took less than a day for the news to reach Fan Jiadu.

When he heard the news, Fan Youmin and his granddaughter Fan Caixia, as well as their fiancé, Mei Tanxiang's agricultural technician, Song Zhanming, were working in his own garden.

The sun was very gentle, and it was a rare good weather in winter. In the riverbank, a few wild ducks flew over from the north. Under the bright sun, they were leisurely foraging for food, and from time to time, they would let out cheerful cries.

Recently, the village committee had requested to sign the contract again. There was no more next words, and no one mentioned it again. This made Fan Youmin feel proud of his ridiculous actions of boycotting Li Manrong back then.

When his father Fan Zhengkun was alive, he looked down on the Li family. Once, he said to his son earnestly, "Youmin, remember, you can't be soft-hearted towards the Li family. "

At the beginning of this year, Li Manrong had used some dirty tricks to defeat his son, Fan Wengong, and became the head of the Fan Family's village committee. This made Fan Youmin unhappy for a long time.

Li Jizhen, the sheep herder of the Fan Family before the liberation, had served as the secretary of the Fan Family's village committee for forty years. His son, Li Manrong, once again took control of this piece of land that the Fan Family's ancestors had worked hard to reclaim. Furthermore, as soon as he took office, he started to attack Fan Youmin.

It was his father, Fan Zhengkun, who was right. To people from the Li family, especially Li Manrong, who relied on the money at their waists and the village committee's director, who had some real power in their hands, and wanted to ride on the neck of the Fan family to take a dump and pee, they could not be soft-hearted.

When he thought of his father, Fan Zhengkun, who had passed away, Fan Youmin could not help but feel sad and sad. His father had passed away when he was ninety-three years old. What kind of storms and waves had he not experienced?

It could be said that Fan Zhengkun had narrowly escaped death. It could also be said that he had only lived by ninety-three years after putting his head on his belt. His words were most likely correct.

In Fan Youmin's memories, in the 60s and 70s of the last century, the nerves of hierarchy struggles had become more and more tense. Every time the Mei Beach Club held a competition, his father, Fan Zhengkun, was always the one receiving the challenge.

Every time he was criticized back, his mother, Wang Lan, would always say such words with tears streaming down her face, "It's better if you die a day earlier, so that you don't have to live to suffer this crime, and even implicate the children. "

At that time, because of her father's complicated history, Fan Youmin's brothers and sisters were often bullied by the poor peasant children for no reason. Fan Youmin was thirty years old, and he was still single. This was very rare in that very special period of time. Unlike now, the streets were filled with single men and women in their thirties and forties, and they were all very glorious.

"Even if I'm beaten to death, I won't commit suicide. " His father's appetite was very large and he could eat very well. He ate big mouthfuls of potatoes that had more and less noodles, and said indifferently, "God only gives a person's life once. How can he give up so easily?"

After eating and drinking enough, he smoked comfortably and satisfyingly while smoking a pipe. He said with a clear voice, "Do you still remember that Old Xie? He is the Shaanxi person who often comes to our house. "

In Fan Zhengkun's eyes, this man who was called Old Xie was very young. He looked very fair and gentle on the outside, just like a weak primary school teacher. Of course, Old Xie had also been a teacher for a period of time in the first primary school in Daan, which had just been established.

In fact, deep down his bones, he was a very strong-willed and courageous person. In the struggle against the civil party, he had lived a limited amount of life. This man in the pass had lived a very splendid life.

"Forty years ago, Old Xie, the teacher, led a group of people and was the first to place the red flag in the Water Spring Fortress. It didn't take long before he lost. Old Xie almost died on the battlefield, but didn't he give up on his pursuit?

After he finished speaking, he finished smoking his pipe. Fan Zhengkun straightened his back and looked at the distant blue sky and white clouds, as well as the bright sun. There was also a group of wild geese flying in the late autumn. They said a meaningful sentence, "People, like these wild geese, can't live in vain. They need to have some reputation. "

Now, forty to fifty years passed in the blink of an eye. His father, Fan Zhengkun, had also passed away for a few months. However, when he thought about these things in the past, Fan Youmin felt that he was in pain. There was also a little bit of pride.

His father was still right. A living person had to be tough and unyielding, just like the man whom his father admired, Old Xie. He had to be like his father, Fan Zhengkun, and more like his own grandfather. Back then, the commander of the National Army was also the anti-war hero, Fan Tinggui.

"Grandpa, come and take a look. What is this?" Suddenly, Fan Caixia pointed to something that was covered in mud on the ground and said in a tight voice, "It seems to be a clay pot. "

Song Zhantao walked over and used the shovel to gently knock on the black thing. Then, a buzzing sound was heard. After a moment, he said in a surprised tone, "This is indeed a clay pot. Maybe there is a jar of silver inside. "

As he spoke, he gently picked up the clay pot and carefully wiped the dirt off it. Indeed, it was a very simple and crude clay jar. Under the sunlight, it appeared to be very heavy and ancient.

Fan Youmin looked up and down carefully, then smiled and said, "Little Song, you are wrong. Inside was not silver coins, but a jar of ancient Qiang people's ashes. If you don't believe me, just open it and you'll know.

Song Zhantao knew a thing or two about the Ancient Qiang people Fan Youmin spoke of. In the ancient land of Daan, there were many tribes from different tribes in history. Now, the descendants collectively referred to them as "people of Guqiang. " According to Fan Caixia, her grandmother, Wang Fang, was a descendant of the Ancient Qiang people.

These tribes that were called the Ancient Qiang people, even though they had different unique living habits, there was one thing that was similar - they lived by the water grass. The Great Peace by the Yellow River was a very ideal place.

When he was young, Fan Youmin heard from his father that these Ancient Qiang people would be cremated after they died. They poured butter and butter on the dead bodies, and then the tribe leader led all the tribe members to kneel around and pray to the heavens before setting the fire and burning them down. Finally, the family members of the deceased put the ashes into jars and buried them deep underground.

Song Zhantao lifted the seal on the soil and poured the clay pot down. Sure enough, a pile of black dust was poured out. Only then did he believe Fan Youmin's words. He couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of phlegm and say, "Bad luck, really bad luck. "

His actions immediately made Fan Caixia laugh. Even Fan Youmin couldn't help but laugh and say, "Little Song, now you believe me, right?"

Song Zhantao couldn't help but fly into a rage at this sight. Raising the vase, he was just about to throw it to the ground when he heard Wang Fang shout from afar, "Caixia, Caixia, quickly call your grandfather back. Something has happened to Bin Bin. "

Following that, Wang Fang's world-shaking cry rang out once more. In an instant, the sound of her cry rang out across the river bank, causing the ducks to fly into the air. They circled around the Yellow River for a moment before flying off into the distance.

After listening to Wang Fang's crying, Fan Youmin stared blankly at the figure of the wild ducks in the sky that was becoming increasingly blurry until they turned into small black dots. Suddenly, in his mind, the image of the wild wolf howling at a very terrifying night appeared.

Could it be that the strange and mysterious things that were recorded in the Fan family tree were real? Was there really such a mysterious invisible wolf clan that had gone against the Fan family for hundreds of years? Were they still going against the Fan Clan in secret?