Chapter 4, The Monkey Catcher in Mali Mountain

The sweet potato is fragrant, yet it does not satiate hunger. However, the conditions at that time were such that there was little to complain about. As a young boy, I would eat my parents out of house and home, consuming three in just a few bites, which left me choking. Just as I was drinking water from a bamboo tube, I suddenly heard a strange sound in the distance. At first, I didn't think much of it, but then I heard squeaking and the crowing of roosters, and I realized something was indeed amiss. I quickly informed my parents.

My mother spoke with great hope, yet what followed was my father's silence. This tense atmosphere lingered for quite some time, and I felt uncomfortable waiting in bed. I opened one eye and saw my father, who had never smoked before, somehow had found a smoking pipe and was puffing on it with some dried tobacco leaves. It was evident that he had little experience with smoking, and the homegrown tobacco was harsh, causing tears to stream down his face.

Looking at the pool of blood left on the ground, my father only cursed his bad luck, yet he was reluctant to leave and began to dig around. Suddenly, a head poked out from the nearby bushes.

I fell silent, yet I felt that something was amiss. The forest over there began to stir, and I saw that thin old man holding a large rooster with white feathers. He killed it with a single stroke, spilling its blood before the monkeys. Those monkeys, who usually appeared fierce, were all frightened by the ominous aura and dared not move; they lowered their heads. As a result, one by one, they were tied up and taken away. Before long, those people finished their business and left this place.

What do you mean it’s useless, what do you mean it’s useless? My mother’s emotions became a bit agitated, and her voice involuntarily rose. She said that a few days ago, she heard Luo Diao's father mention that he recently saw that old Taoist priest over by Wuguniang Mountain in Luosilin. He suggested that perhaps the person never left at all and even set up a Taoist temple there. We should go look for it; maybe we can find it.

I have never thought about such a question. The moment I imagine myself lying in a thin coffin like those who have died over the years, buried in the ground, unable to eat or drink, without parents, without an elder sister, and without playmates, wouldn't that be utterly boring? Just as I was lost in these thoughts, I heard my mother, in a desperate plea, and finally, my father spoke up. He said he did not wish for my death, but you do not understand those who renounce the world; they have no parents, no ancestors in their hearts. If I were to raise such a son, I would rather be a white-haired person sending off a black-haired one, at least I would know where he lies at night. Just as I was lost in these thoughts, I heard my mother, in a desperate plea, and finally, my father spoke up. He said he did not wish for my death, but you do not understand those who renounce the world; they have no parents, no ancestors in their hearts. If I were to raise such a son, I would rather be a white-haired person sending off a black-haired one, at least I would know where he lies at night.

Although I have only been afflicted with an ailment affecting my neck, the past few days have taken a toll on me, leaving me quite weak and lacking in strength. I am far from the ease I felt when I ventured into the mountains before. However, I possess a certain trait akin to that of books: a strong competitive spirit and stubbornness. At my age, I am unwilling to let my parents carry me, so I grit my teeth and endure.

Wuguniang Mountain is the main peak of the Malishan area. As the name suggests, it has five summits. Beyond that, if one continues further in, one enters the old forest, where it is said there are many wild beasts, as well as those seedlings that do not pay taxes or provide grain.

The monkeys of Malishan are different from those in other places. The elders say that these monkeys share a common ancestor with humans, possessing a certain spirituality and a bad temper. Generally, they do not appear in front of people and are quite wild, yet it is unknown how they have gathered here.

Unknowingly, I have developed a sense of aversion in my heart towards that old Taoist whom I have yet to meet and whose whereabouts I am uncertain of

My father smiled wryly and said, "These monkeys are not from your family, so why do you care so much? If you provoke those people, in this deep mountain forest, what will you do if they stab you with a knife?"

The small stream where I was robbed while bathing is to the south, while Wuguniang Mountain is to the east. However, to get there, one must pass through Luosilin. This village is the closest place to the deep mountains. Beyond this point, one must enter the vast wilderness. Although my father has been here while gathering herbs, he is not very familiar with the area. On the other hand, my mother grew up on Malishan, so she can still discern the direction and did not take the wrong path.

When my father expressed his thoughts about www.hetushu.com, he was immediately scolded by my mother. After the scolding, she tried to console him, saying that others may not necessarily be as he imagined, and even if they were, it is always better than being dead

From what I remember, I have never seen my mother and father argue, but this time she was clearly a bit anxious. She grabbed my father's sleeve and said excitedly: "You can see for yourself that several children have died in that stream before the liberation. Er Dan is clearly entangled by those water ghosts; taking medicine is completely useless. If we don't go find that old Taoist priest, my Er Dan might not have many days left to live. How can you be so heartless? Let me tell you, if my Er Dan can't survive, I won't live either..."

My father, seeing those people walk away, cautiously led us over to take a look. As a result, we discovered that this group was quite stingy; not only did they take away more than ten monkeys, but they also took the dead large rooster with the feathered plumage.

Upon hearing these words, I finally realized that yesterday at noon, my mother had acted unusually. It turned out she felt that I might not have much time left—however, is it truly the case that I cannot survive any longer

The next morning, when I woke up, my mother had already begun her preparations. She took a basket of eggs from the clay pot in the kitchen, along with two strings of cured meat hanging from the beam, and then grabbed two fur-covered dead rabbits and a large bag of rice. After gathering these items and the gifts, she discussed with my father downstairs for quite a while. Then they came upstairs to wake me up, and after I washed up, my mother carried everything in a bamboo backpack, while my father took two sharpened machetes. After all the preparations, they left my sister to watch the house, and we set off towards Wuguniang Mountain while it was still dimly lit.

My father initially did not want to get involved in this matter, but he could not withstand my persistent nagging. My mother was also worried about potential issues, so it was agreed that it would be good to take a look. However, in such deep mountains and forests, one must always be cautious. We did not follow the path but instead made our way slowly through the woods. When we got closer, we saw four burly men crowded together in the forest, along with a frail old man in front of them. I do not know what methods they employed, but they were surrounded by a complete circle of wild monkeys.

The mountains are densely forested and rarely visited by people, with paths that are hardly recognizable, formed by hunters and herbalists, and some even made by wild animals. We set out at dawn and walked until the sun was high in the sky, finally catching a glimpse of the highest peak of Wuguniang Mountain, standing tall amidst the clouds in the distance. To be honest, the elevation of the peaks in our area is not particularly high, but they are dense; as far as the eye can see, there are hills upon hills, endlessly stretching, evoking a sense of despair.

My father is not a local resident of this area; he fled here before the liberation and has seen a bit of the world. Upon seeing these people carrying bamboo cages and iron chains, he quietly told my mother, "These people are monkey catchers. Those who work at the docks are the most daring, armed with weapons. Be careful, and don't make a sound." My mother did not respond, but I quietly asked, "If we don't make a sound, will we just let them catch the monkeys?"

Uncertain how long we had been walking, everyone was utterly exhausted. If it weren't for my father supporting me, I would have likely collapsed on that mountain path. As the saying goes, "Sharpening the knife does not delay the work of cutting firewood." When one is tired from walking, it is essential to take a rest. My father found a clearing in the woods, helped my mother unload the items, and then took out a few steamed sweet potatoes and a bamboo tube filled with water to share with us.

Last night, I overheard a conversation between my father and mother. I learned that the illness I have may be caused by the vengeful spirits in the stream, which ordinary medicine cannot cure. Only an old Taoist priest at the mountain top might be able to heal me. However, that old priest is not a good person; he wants to take my father’s son away from him. I am flesh and blood of my mother, raised by my father bite by bite. How could I possibly become someone else's son?

That night, my father and mother discussed matters for the entire night, sometimes crying and sometimes arguing. However, at that time, I only felt my eyelids were very heavy, and my head felt dense, as if someone were sitting on top of it. In a daze, I unknowingly fell asleep again