The scoundrel's wife has also grown old.

Now, the widowed daughter-in-law is old.

On winter afternoons, if the sun shines, she sits on her doorstep, gazing at her father's
grave on the mountain, lost in thought.

The days are short in the mountains. People who have finished work early and return to the village, passing by her house, always call out,
"Wives-in-law."

She turns her old, chrysanthemum-like face towards the direction of the voice, forcing
a weak smile.

Then, the passersby habitually mutter, "Wives-in-law, thinking about her father again,"
and go on their way.

"Wives-in-law, thinking about her father again." The speaker means no harm; the listener is used to it.
Only, the widowed daughter-in-law feels uncomfortable hearing this; she feels it's barbed.

But this is her secret, unknown to anyone.

The wife of a simpleton was unfortunate. She lost her mother when she was eight.

Her mother's life was even more tragic; she gave birth to seven children. When she gave birth to the eighth, it was a difficult labor.

The midwife called for a choice: save the mother or the baby?

"Save the mother! Save the mother! Save the mother!" the wife's father cried out three times.

The wife's father was called Simpleton. Everyone called him that, and no one remembered his real name. Just

as Simpleton's cries faded, a clear "waaaah!" burst from the house, the cry of a newborn baby.
A weight lifted from Simpleton's heart; he thought: This hurdle has finally been overcome.

The midwife brought out a big, healthy baby boy and congratulated her.

Simpleton asked, "Is his mother alright?!"

The midwife rolled her eyes, tilted her head back, and seemed to pass away.

"Dead? How could she be dead! Didn't we agree on an adult?!" The simple-minded boy

was about to cry. The midwife shrugged helplessly.

Indeed. Childbirth, in some ways, is simple; in others, it's incredibly difficult! Even now, even in
the city, even in a big hospital, who dares to guarantee 100% success?! Especially back then, in this
remote mountain village, in the hands of a midwife?!

The simple-minded boy had nothing to say.

After arranging his wife's funeral, he became both father and mother, raising eight children.

During the day, he worked to earn work points. After work, he had to feed nine mouths; only after feeding them could he have
time to wash and clean the babies.

By the time he finished, his back ached, and his head was throbbing. His back, once against the bed, would begin to
snore loudly.

And so he lived. For many years, the simpleton hadn't thought about women. Even if he did, it wouldn't have mattered! His family was dirt poor
; who would marry him halfway through life?!

Day after day passed.

But, a person isn't made of wood.

The sun rose and set, and he didn't notice how many years had passed; the eldest girl, who would later become his wife, had
grown up, becoming beautiful and charming.

The simpleton's gaze towards the eldest girl gradually became somewhat strange.

Only he knew this. No one else noticed. Of course, if the eldest girl's mother were still alive,
perhaps she wouldn't have missed it.

But then again, if her mother were still alive, life would have been different. Perhaps the simpleton
wouldn't have had that look in his eyes.

The simpleton wasn't actually simple-minded. He knew he couldn't do something so despicable.

In the past, the eldest girl was his right-hand woman; she was always around him. The eldest
is still the eldest; besides, the second and third children are both boys, and they're playful.

The simple-minded man truly adored her. He would often gently pat the back of her head with his thick, calloused hand.
He would also secretly slip her treats; sometimes it was just a few hard broad beans, sometimes just
a piece of dried sweet potato.

Poor children are often carefree. The eldest girl was sensible and understood her father's heart.

But now, the simple-minded man always kept her far away.

And the eldest girl, she didn't quite understand her father's intentions; she would occasionally throw a little tantrum. Don't underestimate her just because she's
a poor girl; her little tantrums were incredibly endearing.

Besides, she would often snuggle into the simple-minded man's arms. She'd been doing it since she was little.

Alas, the motherless girl; she treated her father as her mother. She didn't even realize she had grown up.

The simpleton, hiding and dodging, lived his life day by day.

After all, he was a father; some things were truly difficult to say. Think about it, if it were you, how would you say it? Could you even bring yourself
to say it?!

The simpleton, though simple-minded, wasn't simple-minded in his actions. He was a real man.

But, what shouldn't have happened, still happened. The simpleton felt as if he had swallowed a pot of rat droppings;
he only : filthy.

It was a dark night, without moon or stars. It was truly pitch black.

The simpleton, pulling up his pants, ran out of the house, ran into the mountains, and hid in the bushes; his hands kept pounding
his head and slapping his own face.

He wanted nothing more than to find a pair of scissors, cut off that worthless thing, and feed it to the dogs.

He felt: he had let down his eldest daughter, he had let down her mother buried in the yellow earth, and he had let down his ancestors.

He truly didn't want to live anymore. He wanted to jump off the cliff, to be torn to pieces by wild wolves; to leave nothing behind, to
be found, to sully the world.

He desperately climbed towards the top of the cliff. Tree branches tore his coat; his arms bled, but he felt
no pain. A man determined to die feels nothing.

Near the top, he could no longer climb and had to sit down to rest. Then, he saw a quiet
village nestled in the ravine and thought of his eight children. Especially his eldest daughter; what would happen to her? How could she live? How could she face others?

The simpleton was troubled. After much thought, he decided: he could only do as in the plays, make a note of it; clean up
his mess , and raise the children…

On his way down the mountain, the simpleton noticed his coat was torn, and his heart ached again. Then he thought of giving his eldest daughter away
so easily; tears streamed down his face.

On her wedding day, the eldest daughter cried her heart out.

She couldn't bear to leave her younger siblings. As for what her father had done, she didn't understand much and didn't dwell on it. The girls of
the past weren't as clever as they are now.

The eldest daughter was being taken to the mountains, to a poor family. The simple-minded man was also heartbroken; but there was nothing
he could do.

In the past, people valued character and placed great importance on the first time. If you didn't get a good first impression, that hurdle was
impossible to overcome.

The eldest daughter cried like a baby. The simple-minded man felt a pang of heartache; he thought she was blaming him.
So he went closer and whispered, "It's your father, I'm sorry."

"Father, I don't care what kind of family you're with. I just can't bear to leave you!" The eldest daughter hugged him tightly
.

She thought of the past, of all the good her father had done for her; she also thought of
how her father had seemed lost these past few days, growing older every day. She was truly worried.

The wedding party and the wedding procession all said that such deep father-daughter affection was rare indeed.

Mountain people are all honest and simple, never thinking anything of the worst.

In the mountains, the days are short. The wedding party gradually lost patience; the poor boy also started howling.

And so, the young woman left, turning back every three steps and waving goodbye every two.

That good-for-nothing, oblivious to matters of love and sex. That night was also his wedding night; his parents, not keeping a close eye on him,
drank too much liquor. The first night passed in

a daze. The next morning, the good-for-nothing's father asked, "Last night, did you become your wife?"

The good-for-nothing nodded vigorously.

His father asked again, "How?"

The good-for-nothing, then cowardly pulled out his penis and thrust it in front of his father: "Carrot, you eat, you eat."

His father wanted to ask more, but his mother gave him a good scolding: "You old bastard! What do you want to do?
Trying to commit incest?! Give up on that idea!"

And so, the incestuous affair was forgotten. That

good-for-nothing, though oblivious to matters of love and sex, could still cause trouble. Every night, after he got into bed, he would always rub his penis against
his wife's breasts; and this would last for most of the night.

His wife, who was a good-for-nothing, knew what was going on. At first, she didn't dare tell him; later,
she dared not say anything more. She could only let him do as he pleased.

That day, her feet ached terribly. She felt as soon as she closed her eyes, before she could even fall into a deep sleep, the rooster
crowed . She got up and busied herself with chores; then she went to work.

Fortunately, her belly soon became visible; her mother also loved and protected her.

Time passed. Her wife gave birth to a child, who gradually grew up.

The women in the mountains felt: why does this child look less and less like her father? They couldn't help but discuss it privately. The elders in the mountains
said: it's common for a child to resemble their mother, uncle, or maternal grandfather.

And so, life in the mountains continued uneventfully.

In the village, the younger siblings of the simpleton's wife grew up one after another. The second son went to the city to work; the third son joined
the army; the fourth son was also engaged and preparing to get married…

That year, at the end of the year, the third son returned home from the army with two bottles of sweet potato wine; passing through the city, he called
the second son. The second son gritted his teeth and bought half a jin of peanuts. The two brothers went to visit the simpleton.

While drinking, the two brothers talked about the simpleton's wife. The simpleton remained silent; he got up and walked outside.

The second son asked, "What are you doing?"

The simpleton replied, "To pee."

The third son grabbed a handful of peanuts and stuffed them into the simpleton's hand.

The simpleton went out and never returned.

When people found him, he had already drowned in the ditch. On the riverbank lay
peanuts wrapped in a patch torn from his old coat, and a pair of half-new cloth shoes.

Someone wondered: how could someone drown in a ditch? The village elder immediately spoke up:
who would want to die when they're alive and well?!

So no one said anything more; everyone pitched in to help with the simpleton's funeral arrangements.

Time flies, never to return.

The simpleton's father, mother, and son all passed away one after the other. His

wife's son had long since joined the army, becoming an officer, and had married
and had a son.

The son and his wife had wanted to take her to live with them; but the simpleton's wife didn't want to go to the city.

Now, life was much better than before. The mountain land had been returned to forest; the forest had been leased to the villagers. She fed herself
every day .

Most of her younger siblings had also gone to the city. They often sent word, saying that since she lived too far away, she should take extra care
of her father's grave.

The widowed daughter-in-law lived her life tending the old house, her father's grave, and the graves of her husband's mother, husband, and father
.

She would often stroll around the cemetery. She even chose a spot for herself, right at her father's feet. She thought:
being close makes it easier to talk; to tell her father about the past.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/212219.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=212219&aspx=1

Previous Page : Rural Romance | Whimsical Ideas - Chapter 23: Song Qinglian's Affair

Next Page : Love for his sister-in-law

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

The scoundrel's wife has also grown old.

comment Open a new window to view comments