What is it like for those who left their hometown and returned to Chongqing’s countryside for the first time after 12 years?

Due to disrepair, the old house has collapsed. The fish pond has become a pool of stagnant water, the road is full of weeds, and the beams of the old house are broken in the middle. It’s not just my house that’s dilapidated, but the entire Cizhu Valley.

On February 14, the twenty-ninth year of the year, I returned to my hometown for the first time to worship my ancestors 12 years after leaving my hometown. It was also such a winter in 2005. My sister and I were sent to Guangdong to reunite with our parents who had gone south to work, and we never came back again.

My hometown, Cizhugou, is located in the mountainous area in eastern Chongqing. It is a typical natural village where ethnic groups live together. Except for the daughter-in-law who married in, all the people in the village have the same surname as the ancestor. This morning, a group of 15 of us drove from the county seat to the nearest highway, and then walked into the village. On this day, Cizhugou was wrapped in thick fog, making it a bit colder than the county town. Before setting off, my cousin told me: "It's cold in my hometown, so I need to wear long johns." But when I stood in Cizhugou Valley again, I was more shocked than cold.

The beams were broken in the middle, the dam in front of the house was covered with fallen adobe bricks, the door panels were partially hidden on top, and the entire left half of the house was gone. At first glance, I can’t think of any adjective except “ruins.” This is the home I lived in when I was a child. I couldn't help but take a few steps forward. My cousin immediately warned me: "Be careful and don't get too close." It’s not just my old house that’s dilapidated, but the entire Cizhu Valley.

In my impression, there are many mountains here and there is little flat land. The houses in the village are built along the mountains and distributed in order. To the east of the village is a small mountain stream that slowly descends. There is a fish pond in the village, and a canal above the fish pond passes through the village. We call it a weir ditch, which is used to irrigate farmland. The stone ridges on both sides of the canal are the main road in the village. At that time, Cizhugou was very lively with the crowing of chickens and the barking of dogs. The adults went out to work and cultivate the land, while the children of the same generation gathered together to play, and the older ones cooked at home. After the meal was ready, they went to the entrance of the village and shouted loudly, and then everyone went back to their homes.

But now the water in the ditch has dried up, the weirs and ditches have been filled, the fish ponds have turned into stagnant water, the original roads are also overgrown with weeds, and occasionally wild boars appear. As the Chinese New Year approaches, the whole village But deathly quiet. These old houses made of rammed earth have been unoccupied for a long time and appear dilapidated. The doors of each house are locked, and only the name of the head of the household is written on the door.

After paying homage to our grandfather, my father pointed to a few tombs without tombstones and said, these are our ancestors in Cizhugou. Without them, there would be no you. My cousin and I cleaned and worshiped one by one with firecrackers, paper money, and incense candles. My uncle, relatives and friends took turns to kneel down and burn incense. Not long after, the sound of firecrackers came one after another. My cousin said that apart from white events, ancestor worship is the busiest time in Cizhugou every year.

When I was a child, there were more than 20 villagers in Cizhugou, all of whom were relatives of the same family. Most of them were the result of the branches and leaves of my grandparents, and the rest were descendants of their uncles and brothers. There were six brothers in my grandfather's generation. He was the youngest, but he had the most prosperous descendants. He had six sons and two daughters, and each of his children had at least one pair of children.

However, when I returned to Cizhugou again, my relatives had moved to the city to live, and there were only two families left here. The family is an old man who is over eighty years old and lives alone. After the Chinese New Year, he will also move to a nearby township, leaving behind the only family - a poor family who gave birth to four children before getting a son. They are all my uncles and elders.

Just like more than a hundred years ago, our ancestors settled in Cizhugou, which was relatively prosperous, to make a living. Now, the elders who have gone out to work have the capital to obtain better living conditions and are beginning to move away from Cizhugou. Today, the descendants of this small mountain village have settled in towns, neighboring villages, counties, Chongqing, and even Guangdong. The road near the entrance of the village has not yet been repaired

When my old house collapsed, there was still someone living in the house - a fat uncle who was the poorest five-guarantee household in the village.

The fat uncle is 69 years old, from the same clan as me, and is the adopted son of my second grandfather. He has never gone to school, is illiterate, is too simple-minded, withdrawn, lives a sloppy life, and is often bullied. When Fat Uncle was in his 20s, he once married a relative. Uncle Rui said: "He is just too stupid and doesn't know what sex life is." After marriage, he only knows how to play with his wife and "often pick at the soles of her feet." Later, the fat wife ran away and never came back, and the fat uncle became a bachelor known to all the neighbors. This incident became a joke in the village.

I still remember that when we were young, we often called him "nangber" (idiot fool)

In his early years, Fatty followed his relatives to the city to make a living, doing heavy lifting and other work. As I get older, it becomes increasingly difficult to make money, so I have no choice but to return to the village and farm. He is also the only person who returned to the village to settle down after going out to work in Cizhugou. It’s just that the fat uncle’s house was in disrepair and it collapsed soon after. Fortunately, more and more people are moving out of Cizhugou, leaving many empty houses. He simply moved into an empty house, and people who left were happy for him to help look after the house in order to "increase his popularity."

My house is the third one that Fat Uncle lives in. He also lived in Uncle Wu’s and Uncle Zhong’s houses, but they both collapsed. In 2009, my grandfather passed away, and my mother went back to her hometown to attend the funeral. She met Fat Uncle once. "Damp, dark, and seriously leaking." His mother was very worried about his living conditions, so she gave him 100 yuan and a pack of cigarettes before leaving. "The house collapsed during the day, and he happened to be in the house," Uncle Rui said. With a bang, the entire left side of the house collapsed, but the fat uncle who lived on the right escaped. But after that, no one wanted him to help look after the house anymore.

When I came back this time, I didn’t see the fat uncle. My cousin said that after my house collapsed, he moved to a new house built by the government for five-guarantee households, and now he lives on food savings and subsistence allowances. "The fat uncle doesn't want to leave. There is no place to live here, and there are conflicts with people over there. It's pitiful for him to be homeless." Several uncles said that he had been farming and harvesting grain for the past two years, and at the end of the year he killed more than 200 kilograms of pigs. "People from neighboring villages weighed meat with him, bullied him into not being able to read, and defrauded him of good meat at a low price."

After Fat Uncle left, Grandpa He and Uncle Yao’s family were the only ones who stayed in Cizhugou all year round.

My grandfather is 82 years old this year. His children and grandchildren are all working in other places, and he lives alone in this mountain village. I was standing in front of the collapsed old house. My grandfather and I were just coming out of his house, and they didn’t recognize me for a long time. After I told him, he said "remember, remember" and held my hand for a long time without letting go. Before leaving, my grandfather and I called me over. He brought out a dustpan filled with melon seeds and candies from the house, and asked me to grab more and put them in my pocket. Over the years, he farmed alone at home and harvested more than a thousand kilograms of grain, but his health was getting worse. In the next year, he will also move to a neighboring village to take care of the new house of his young son who is working outside.

After he left, Uncle Yao’s family was the only one left in Cizhugou.

Uncle Yao had the most children in his generation - four, three daughters and the youngest son. In the early years, Uncle Yao's father said: "After giving birth to a son, there will be no more children." In order to support this large family, Uncle Yao worked outside all year round, leaving his wife, children and father who was nearly 80 years old to work at home. They are also responsible for helping relatives and friends take care of their ancestral homes and taking care of village affairs. When worshiping our ancestors, we found that all the weeds on the tombs had been cleared. Before leaving, the second aunt gave Uncle Yao's wife several hundred dollars. "It's all a favor," she said.

Uncle Yao’s eldest daughter had very good academic performance. After graduating from elementary school, she was recommended to a famous middle school in Chongqing. Since she could not afford the cost of living in the city, she finally chose to study at a branch school in the county. When she took the high school entrance examination, she went to one of the top schools in the county with scores exceeding the admission score, and was even arranged by the school to travel to Beijing. This is the farthest place she has ever gone, and studying has become the most convenient way for her to get out of the mountain village.

On the way back to the county town, the fathers talked about Uncle Yao’s family’s plans. The government has given poor households a building subsidy of more than 20,000 yuan, and they plan to build new houses on the original site.

"Build here? How to live here?"

"What else can we do? There are so many children with such a heavy burden, what else can we do?"

My father’s rhetorical question made me speechless. It’s really not that easy for them to get out. The teenagers in the group photo had already dispersed.

On the day of ancestor worship, I met Uncle Zhong who came back to clean up the house. The day before, they had just moved all their belongings to the nearby countryside, and the house in Cizhugou became a real ancestral home and old house. Uncle Zhong's family works in Dongguan, Guangdong. His young son works as a supervisor in a factory there and has already bought a house. During the Chinese New Year this year, they made a special trip from Guangdong to their hometown to move.

My father and I also drove home from Guangdong to celebrate the New Year. Since all relatives and friends have moved to the city, returning to the hometown has become a return to the city. In fact, it has been seven or eight years since I celebrated the Spring Festival in the city.

Grandma has eight children. The youngest father lives in Guangdong all year round. The other uncles and aunts all buy houses and cars in the county. Their children are also accustomed to life in the city. After my grandfather passed away, in order to take care of my grandma more conveniently, my parents also took her to the city.

The elderly are unwilling to leave. They are used to the freedom of rural life and do not want to "live in other people's homes for a long time." Later, the parents jointly bought a house for my grandma in the city, allowing her to live alone and facilitate daily care. During the Chinese New Year this year, I accompanied my grandma to walk between uncles’ houses. Because of motion sickness, I had to walk on two legs every time. The road for several kilometers is mostly steep, and the 83-year-old man walks tremblingly, which makes people very worried. "I don't want to go. I can't get used to what they cook, and walking there would be tiring," grandma said. She would rather live quietly by herself.

But children and grandchildren like to lively, how can four generations live in the same house without the elderly? After entering the city, every New Year's Eve banquet would start with grandma's birthday. On the twenty-eighth day of the year, grandma's birthday would usually be held at the uncle's house, and all the children and grandchildren who came back would come and eat birthday noodles. On the twenty-ninth day of the new year, the New Year's Eve banquet begins, starting from the uncle's house and taking turns to hold one day at each uncle's and aunt's house. After one meal, the New Year is over.

This model was unimaginable in rural areas before. First, there were no economic conditions, and second, human relationships were more important in the eyes of the fathers. My father still remembers that resources in Cizhugou were limited in the past. Relatives often quarreled and even fought over the water sources for irrigation and the space to dry the millet. However, after moving to the city, there was no longer any conflict over the means of production, and relatives came and went more frequently. Early every morning there are people chatting and greetings among the family members.

However, this kind of clan relationship is centered on the elders. During the family reunion this year, my father lamented: "Mom is here at home. When she leaves, we who have left will be able to get together." This worry is not unreasonable. The parents who have the closest relationship want a better life. I have left my hometown, and my peers are not limited to small counties. Most of them have already worked and bought houses in Chongqing. The furthest away, I am still studying in Guangzhou, and no one has returned to Cizhugou to settle down.

On the other hand, our parents are still planning to build new houses on the basis of old houses in Cizhugou, and then go back to take care of themselves in old age. However, the plan, which has been discussed for more than a year, has never been settled. Young people always tease them: You are used to living in the city, are you still willing to go back?

Some uncles also suggested building an ancestral hall in Cizhugou to facilitate ancestor worship.

The eldest uncle said: "After all, it is our roots that we cannot forget, and it is also convenient for young people to find a place when they come back."