Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

After a while, Lin Wei closed her notebook, stood up, bowed to Cang Houde, and said, "Grandpa, thank you."

Cang Houde waved his hand and said nothing more.

Cang Yuanzhi stood up and said, "Reporter Lin, I'll take you around the village next to show you the changes that have taken place in our village over the past year."

Lin Wei nodded. She needed to go outside for a walk and let go of what she had just heard.

They bid farewell to Cang Houde. Stepping out of the old house, the afternoon sun was already setting, casting a warm, white glow on the bluestone path of the village. A cold wind swept over them, and Lin Wei pulled her scarf tighter; the warmth she had felt in the main room was instantly dissipated.

Cang Shouzhen glanced at the sky and said to Lin Wei, "Reporter Lin, there are still some things to finish at the distillery. Yongqiang and I will go there first. You can follow later."

Cang Jianguo laughed and said, "Xiao Ren and I will also go to the oil refinery to clean up. Reporter Lin is welcome to visit."

Lin Wei said, "Uncles, you're busy with your own things, no need to attend to me."

The group nodded and went their separate ways.

Cang Yuanzhi led the group along the village road toward the planting area. Xiao Zhou carried the camera and walked at the back of the group, the lens pointed at the scenery on both sides of the village road.

The flat farmland stretches to the foot of the mountain, the wheat seedlings lush and green in winter. A sign stands on the ridge of the field, reading "Xiqiao Village Planting Demonstration Area". The trunks of orange and pomelo trees are wrapped with frost-proof straw ropes, their branches bare, enduring the winter. The white plastic film of the strawberry greenhouses gleams in the sunlight, like silver rivers.

Uncle Li, who was in charge of strawberry cultivation, emerged from the greenhouse, his hands still covered in mud. He grinned when he saw Cang Yuanzhi: "Secretary Cang, you brought guests to see the place?"

"Yes. Uncle Li, this is a reporter from the provincial capital."

Uncle Li rubbed his hands together, a little nervous, but once he started talking about strawberries, he couldn't stop: "These strawberries were planted last year, the first batch has just turned red, and they'll be on the market just in time for the New Year. We use biogas slurry as fertilizer, no pesticides..."

Lin Wei squatted down, looking at the bright red strawberries between the ridges, and asked, "Uncle Li, how profitable is growing strawberries?"

Uncle Li held up three fingers, then added another. "This season we can earn over four thousand. That's much better than growing rice."

Lin Wei stood up and wrote it down in her notebook.

Their second stop was the breeding area. The pigsties, chicken coops, and duck farms were all neatly arranged. Next to the pigsties stood a sign that read "Xiqiao Village Ecological Breeding Demonstration Base".

The pigsty was clean and didn't smell as I had imagined. Mr. Chen, who was in charge of raising the pigs, came out to greet me with a kind smile. When Lin Wei asked about the scale of the operation, Mr. Chen counted on his fingers and said, "We have over two hundred pigs at a time, and about four hundred are sold each year."

Lin Wei then asked, "How do you dispose of the feces?"

Cang Yuanzhi led them around to the back of the farm. There was a huge, semi-circular mound there, which looked like a flying saucer from a distance.

"This is a biogas digester," Cang Yuanzhi said, pointing to the mound. "All the sewage and manure from the farms flow here. After fermentation, it produces biogas, which is used to generate electricity. Right now, it supplies electricity to the village committee and the distillery. Next year, we'll build two more digesters, which will cover half the village. The biogas slurry is excellent fertilizer, which we use to irrigate the fields."

Lin Wei looked at the huge, semi-circular mound, then at the neat greenhouses and orchards in the distance, and suddenly remembered a term she had seen in a newspaper—agricultural circular management model. Wasn't what Cang Yuanzhi was leading the villagers in doing precisely this kind of ecological management model?

"Second Uncle, how did you come up with these ideas?" she asked.

Cang Yuanzhi didn't answer directly. He looked at the distant hillside, pondered for a few seconds, and then said, "During the war, my old company commander taught me how to read maps. Where could we hide people? Where could we break out? Where were the dead ends? We had to figure it out first before we took action. It's the same with agriculture. We had to figure out what we could grow on this land, how to grow it, and who to sell it to; what we could raise, how to raise it, and how to sell it… Everything had to be based on facts, targeted, not empty talk, and not reckless action. These are the principles the army taught me. I'm just applying the management experience I learned in the army to governing the village."

Standing at the back of the crowd, Tianci listened to his second uncle's words, feeling a jolt in his heart. He had only known his second uncle as a war hero and a woodcarver. He hadn't known his second uncle possessed so many wisdoms, and he never imagined that his second uncle could transform a poor village like this in less than a year. He looked up at his second uncle's profile. That face, etched with wrinkles by time, shone with a light at that moment. That light was confidence, certainty, pride, and happiness.

At this moment, Xiao Zhou, who was at the back of the group, shook the camera, slowly moving it from the biogas digester to the greenhouse in the distance.

The third stop was the three fishponds at the east end of the village. One of them was the one where Cang Tianci drowned as a child; the other two were newly dug.

Cang Yuanzhi pointed to the old pond: "Tianci almost drowned in this pond when he was a child."

Lin Wei remembered that Li Feng had told her about this. She looked at Cang Li Feng beside her, and Cang Li Feng looked at her and nodded. She then turned to look at Tian Ci. Tian Ci's expression did not change; he was simply gazing quietly at the pond.

A thin layer of ice had formed on the surface of the pond, shimmering white in the sunlight. Tianci recalled that summer when Wang Xiuzhu extended a bamboo rake to him. That warmth extended in his desperate situation, that beautiful, rosy face, remained vividly imprinted in his mind.

Walking back from the fishpond, I passed a house where an old man was sitting at the door. Seeing Cang Yuanzhi, he called out from afar, "Hello, Secretary Cang!"

Cang Yuanzhi responded with a greeting, then called out, "Hello, Uncle Chen!"

The fourth stop was the village skills training center. It was a row of newly built bungalows next to the village committee, with a wooden plaque on the wall that read "Xiqiao Village Farmers' Skills Training Center".

Cang Yuanzhi pointed to Cang Zhenye beside him: "Fourth Brother is mainly in charge of this area. Because of this, he has learned a lot. He knows a bit about breeding, planting, and even winemaking techniques."

Cang Zhenye scratched his head and said embarrassedly, "I only know a little bit."

Lin Wei asked, "Uncle Cang, how did you learn it?"

Cang Zhenye was stumped by the question; he opened his mouth but couldn't say anything. Cang Xiangyang chimed in from the side, "My dad reads every night and has filled several notebooks with notes."

Cang Zhenye blushed, lowered his head, and remained silent.

Looking at his father's shy yet proud expression, Tianci couldn't help but recall the stories his mother had told him.

My father was recruited to the Yongfu Railway Bureau in Jiangxi Province at the age of sixteen and became a worker. He spent three leisurely years there, learning several musical instruments and becoming proficient in playing them all. At nineteen, he responded to the national call for streamlining and returned to his hometown to farm. At that time, my eldest uncle was the village party secretary, my second uncle was the deputy director of the commune, my father joined the party, became the production team leader and the manager of the lime kiln, and also met Su Yumei, the most beautiful girl in the neighboring village. A year later, the two got married.

Not long after their marriage, a decade-long storm arrived.

To protect his wife, his second uncle willingly resigned from his position as deputy director of the commune. That same year, his third uncle, who was the head of the security department at a geological exploration team, temporarily embezzled public funds to treat Yongqiang's broken leg. Zheng Guozhong seized on this, accusing him of embezzlement, and also found a mine protection gun in his dormitory, charging him with illegal possession of firearms. His third uncle was sentenced to labor reform.

Immediately afterwards, Wang Zhenkun attacked his eldest uncle. To protect his elder brother, his father completely offended the Wang family. Wang Zhenkun led a group of men into the lime kiln, falsely accusing his father of embezzling factory property. When the kiln was attacked with clubs, his father's left arm was broken.

Later, he met his master, Chen Jiren, who set his father's bones for free. From then on, the family's musical instruments were either thrown away or sold. His father never sang again. The radiance of his youth was gone from his face.

Now, that radiance has returned to my father's face. He has found his way again.

The fifth stop was Cangjia Winery.

The distillery was built at the east end of the village, nestled at the foot of the mountain. A wooden plaque hung at the entrance, reading "Cang Family Distillery." The calligraphy was done by Cang Houde; even at eighty-three, his handwriting was still strong. The distillery wasn't large, but it was clean. The fermentation tanks, distillation pots, and storage tanks were clearly separated.

Cang Shouzheng and Cang Yongqiang were mixing drinks in the distillery. When they saw Lin Wei and the others come in, they looked up and smiled, then continued with their work.

Cang Zhenye stepped forward and said to Lin Wei, "This winery was co-founded by my third brother and me. My third brother is in charge of the technology, and I am in charge of sales and management."

He glanced at Cang Shouzheng and continued, "To set up this distillery, Third Brother took Yongqiang all the way to a brewing base in your province to learn the complete brewing techniques. He's a lifelong wine lover, practically living in a wine world, and he became obsessed with it as soon as he started learning. He vowed to develop the best wine ever."

Cang Shouzheng seemed unaffected by his fourth brother's words. He took out a spoon, scooped a spoonful of wine from the wine jar into a bowl, brought it to his lips, took a small sip, and savored it carefully. His focused expression was as if he were conversing with the wine.

Tianci looked at his third uncle. He remembered how his third uncle used to have a vacant look in his eyes and reek of alcohol—that was depravity. Now, his third uncle's eyes were bright, and his back was straight. The same person, the same alcohol, one was sinking into depravity, the other was transcending it. Tianci suddenly understood: his third uncle was still the same third uncle, but alcohol had transformed from an "anesthetic" into a "career." This was the path his third uncle had found.

Cang Zhenye continued, "Brewing wine brings more than just income from selling it. It requires rice, sorghum, grapes, and other crops, which can generate income for the village's agriculture. The waste produced—the lees—can be made into feed for pigs, cattle, chickens, and ducks. Even if the wine doesn't sell immediately, there's no need to worry. Rice wine can be made into vinegar over time, while baijiu (Chinese white liquor) becomes more fragrant and expensive with age."

As they emerged from the distillery, a gust of cold wind swept down from the foot of the mountain. Lin Wei shrank her neck and instinctively hugged her arms tightly. Cang Lifeng glanced at her, took off his coat, and gently draped it over her shoulders.

Lin Wei turned her head and smiled at him. The two walked side by side behind Cang Yuanzhi and Cang Zhenye.

Seeing this, Cang Xiangyang and Cang Xiangrong, who were walking behind, couldn't help but smile knowingly.

The sixth stop was the Cangjia Oil Refinery.

The oil refinery is located at the west end of the village, next to Cang Jianguo's old house. The factory building is a brick and tile structure, but a new oil press has been installed, its gleaming surface standing out conspicuously in the dimly lit workshop. Cang Jianguo is busy working next to the machine, his apron stained with oil. Cang Xiaoren is squatting on the ground, cleaning up the oil cakes left after pressing the oil.

Cang Yuanzhi led Lin Wei inside. Cang Jianguo and Cang Xiaoren greeted them with smiles, "Hello, Reporter Lin!"

Cang Jianguo explained, "This oil refinery was originally founded by my father, and later I took over the management. Now the Cang family has become a well-known family of heroes, and my oil refinery business has also improved. This year, we replaced the equipment, and the scale is twice as big as before."

Lin Wei asked, "Uncle, where does the oil from the refinery mainly go?"

Cang Jianguo thought for a moment and said, "The town, the county. There are also people from other places who come to collect."

"How much can you extract in a year?"

"About 10,000 jin," Cang Jianguo said.

Lin Wei nodded and jotted it down in her notebook. She turned her head and saw Tianci standing at the entrance of the oil refinery, looking at an old plaque hanging on the wall—"Cangji Oil Mill." The characters on the plaque had faded, but were still legible. It was also Cang Houde's handwriting.

Looking at the plaque, Tianci suddenly felt a surge of indescribable emotion. His great-grandfather's path, which his grandfather had guarded for forty-eight years, was one he dared not tread. To survive, he had to find another way. In his spare time, he studied wood and carving tools, infusing his great-grandfather's philosophy of "quiet observation and self-satisfaction" into his wood carvings. But this craft wasn't suitable for everyone. Ultimately, only his second uncle inherited it.

To support his large family, Grandpa opened an oil press. Oil pressing and antique appraisal seem worlds apart, but Grandpa's oil was always more fragrant, and his oil cakes were always more compact. Tianci remembered asking Grandpa why when he was little, and Grandpa said, "When the heat is right, the oil comes out on its own."

He didn't understand before. Now he does. Grandpa used the patience and focus that Great-Grandpa had guarded his whole life on a completely unrelated trade. He preserved the craft, he preserved the family, and he preserved that inextinguishable light.

Tianci thought of Xiangyang again. Xiangyang was the first person after his second uncle to formally take over his great-grandfather's mantle.

Tianci lowered his head, looking at his hands. These hands had clenched his fists and held a pen; which path would they lead him down?

He thought of his master again, and of his master's path. His master's path was mysterious and profound, something he longed for. But when his master passed on the Hidden Dragon Technique, medicine, and Tai Chi to him, was it merely so that he would follow in his footsteps?

No, he should have his own path! Perhaps his path is not yet clear. But he knows he will find his way.

Outside the window, the afternoon sun of winter shone through the clouds, illuminating the four faded characters on the plaque. Tianci stared at those characters for a long time. Then he turned and walked out of the oil refinery.

It was already dark when they left the oil refinery. Cang Yuanzhi led the group towards the village guesthouse. Wisps of smoke rose from the rooftops of each house, dissipating into the twilight.