Beef soup in town

My grandfather was the second in line, known as the Second Master. His brother, known as the Grand Master. The Grand Master left early and never gave me a face. When my second grandfather left, I was only six or seven years old, and do not remember much. My father was the one who told me everything. My father said that the two masters, not tall, a few meters, look similar, with small heads and brains, but different temperaments, the second master is slow, gentle, solid eyes, and the first master is anxious, windy, quick brain, as many eyes as grapes, a doodad.

The two masters were born to be enemies and dislike each other. The first one is the second one, you have never shit in your life. The second master said to the first master, you can shit out gunpowder.

The first grandfather always bullied the second grandfather. The two families' paddy fields are next to each other, with a ridge between them. The eldest husband was so desperate that he kept cutting the ridge, and the more he cut, the thinner it became, and he cut most of the ridge into his field. The Grand Master's field was a few centimeters lower than the Second Grand Master's field, so the Grand Master was not convinced and secretly punched holes in the ridge.

The second grandfather was angry and noisy. But he has thin skin and a thick mouth, but not the thick skin and thin mouth of the Grand Master. The second is often "cracked" by the grandparents to say a red face, back to a whole sentence.

The second master has no choice, can not afford to mess with can not afford to hide ah, move, away from your home. The family moved to a barren hill, building a house and developing a new field.

The first and second masters are far away from each other, rarely meet, and do not talk to each other.

The first thing you need to do is to avoid meeting the people of the same village. At least twice a month, in the six sets of cattle workshops in the town.

There is only one cattle workshop in town. Kill the cattle and sell the meat. When there is a big market twice a month, free beef soup is served. The Grand Master and the Second Grand Master have a common hobby, drinking beef soup. Whenever there is a fair, the Grand Master and the Second Grand Master will go to the cattle workshop to drink beef soup. When they were not quarreling, they went together in pairs. The first thing you need to do is to go to the cattle market. From the arms out of a bottle of three taro dry brewed wine, two pieces of the Dynasty brand baked cake, play a bowl of beef soup, slowly eat, slowly drink. Do not eat beef, eating beef costs money, they can not afford to give up. Sometimes, to shame the second master will be ruthless to buy a few slices of beef, deliberately chewing the bar loud so that the second master heard, to show their days are rich. The second taiji pretended not to hear, huffing and puffing to drink their beef soup.

The people of the cattle workshop, people who buy meat, people who drink soup, looking at these two can not help but laugh, face half smiled, the heart lamented: the brothers ah!

The second grandfather walked out of the cattle workshop, could not help but spit a mouthful, cursed in the heart, hum, called you things to end, and cut off the children.

The great grandfather and the great grandmother married for twenty years, but did not see a child and a half.

That year, the second grandfather was sick, very sick. He asked Mr. Kesan, a Chinese medicine doctor in town, to take a look. Mr. Kesan shook his head straight, it is difficult to cure ah.

Mr. Kesan is always confident, he said difficult to cure, is the same as a death sentence. But the gentleman also put down a few medicines, eat and see, good will be good, not good will be down. There is good food that does not leave behind, said not to eat can not eat ah.

The medicine is getting less and less every day, but the second grandfather is still not well, and he is losing weight day by day. The first thing you need to do is to get a good idea of what you want to eat. The second grandfather was gurgling and his speech was muddled. The first time, the first time, the second time. The first time I heard about the second one, I swallowed my grudge and came to see him.

The first thing you need to do is to ask if tomorrow is the day and then say to yourself that it is the day, and he wants to drink beef soup.

The first thing you need to do is to get a good idea of what you want.

The first thing you need to do is to go to the town tomorrow and bring a bowl of beef soup.

The company's main goal is to provide a good solution to the problem.

The grandfather said you have a jar at home, do not you? Add the lid and walk slowly, it won't spill.

Grandma took the jar out.

The next morning, the grandfather went to the market with the jar in his arms. Went, people never came back. After noon, the jar came back. It was the neighbor Yang Muzi who carried it back.

On March 26, 1939, the sixth day of the second month of the lunar calendar, the Japs created the "two six" tragedy in the town of six sets, massacring 108 people. The Grand Master was among the 108 people.

Yang Muzi said, originally, the Grand Master ran with him, can run faster, but he was holding a jar, afraid to run fast and spilled the soup, it fell behind me, just in time to meet the ghosts, was bayoneted. When the devils left, I went back to look for the child who had run away at the fair, but the child was not found, and I ran into the dying Grand Master. He handed me the jar and asked me to bring it back to the second grandfather to drink. When he finished, he died.

The earthen yellow jar had turned into a blood-red jar. Grandma opened it, the soup was still hot, stirred, and there were a few slices of beef.

After drinking the beef soup and taking a few medicines, the second grandfather was cured a few days later and lived another 40 years.

My first grandfather had no children, and after his death, my father went to the grave every year. After the death of the second grandfather, the grave was adjacent to the grave of the first grandfather. Every ghost festival, my father took me to burn the paper. In the middle of the two earthen graves, the paper was divided into two piles and lit. One time, the two piles of paper just finished burning, the wind blew, and the ashes merged into one, floating up into the sky. My mother said, "Did the two masters quarrel again?

My father shook his head and said, "No, the two masters took the money and went to town together to drink beef soup.