PCJ – Chapter 587 Shouting Against the Wind

“How is it here?”  Standing atop Heiyan Ridge, Zhang Jiaohua shouted loudly against the wind.

“It’s beautiful! If only we could live in such a beautiful place forever!” Ji Jiaxin shouted back just as loudly.

Heiyan Ridge was the tallest peak near Meizi’ao. From its summit, one could overlook the breathtaking scenery of Meizi’ao—rolling green tea fields, picturesque countryside views, and fresh air that made one feel relaxed and refreshed. How could anyone not long for such a place?

“Humans always think what they can’t see is the most beautiful. They push themselves to explore the universe, believing that the most stunning landscapes lie hidden in its depths. As technology advances, they drift further from their true hearts. As long as one has food and clothing, that’s enough to pursue happiness. But nowadays, everyone has endless material desires and lives a tiring life. Don’t they know that by just sitting on a mountaintop like this—whether rich or poor—you can see the most beautiful scenery?” It was unclear whether Ji Jiaxin was speaking to herself or to Zhang Jiaohua. She kept shouting into the open wilderness, but her voice was quickly carried away by the wind.

Facing the wind, Zhang Jiaohua closed his eyes and shouted, “I don’t know either. I just know that right now I’m happy and can let everything go.”

The two of them were wild and free, standing on the mountaintop shouting for a long time. When the sun was about to set and the sky was filled with red clouds, casting Meizi’ao in a dreamlike glow, they finally walked down the winding path toward Meizitang.

“Zhang Jiaohua, I’ll always remember today.” Ji Jiaxin looked at Zhang Jiaohua—not with the gaze of a nine-year-old girl anymore. Now they were eighteen or nineteen, and their eyes lingered in the glow of the sunset.

Before they had even left Meishan, Zhang Jiaohua noticed someone hiding in the woods.

“Mute! What are you hiding there for?” Zhang Jiaohua called out.

The “Mute” shyly crawled out from a bush. “I saw it was getting dark and was worried you forgot the time, so I came to get you. But I didn’t want to disturb you two.”

His meaning was obvious. Zhang Jiaohua chuckled.

Ji Jiaxin also smiled. If it were Xu Xiaoting, she might have blushed red. But Ji Jiaxin just smiled naturally and changed the subject with ease: “Jiaohua, he can speak. Why do you call him ‘Mute’?”

“When he was young, he had trouble with his ears and used to stutter. Later, his hearing improved and the stutter gradually went away. But everyone was already used to calling him that.” Zhang Jiaohua laughed.

“Everyone? More like you’re used to it. Everyone else has started calling me Zhang Gengban now. Only you still call me ‘Mute’.” he grumbled.

“Alright then, I’ll try to change it. But whether I can get used to it or not—I don’t know.” Zhang Jiaohua chuckled.

“Knew it.” Mute didn’t have much hope for Zhang Jiaohua to change. After all, he was used to the nickname by now—he even found it kind of endearing sometimes.

“Gengban, if you want to be a professional athlete in the future, that name doesn’t sound cool enough—it’s too old-fashioned. Want me to give you a better one?” Zhang Jiaohua teased.

“No thanks. This name’s fine. If you give me something like ‘Ah Huang’ or ‘Ah Hua,’ I’d feel even worse.” At the mention of the character “Hua,” Mute couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

Ji Jiaxin clearly understood the joke behind “Hua” as well and giggled.

“Mute!” Zhang Jiaohua raised his voice.

“Jiaohua, I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear!” Mute quickly pleaded.

“Don’t pretend to be all innocent. I know you too well—you’re the slyest one!” Zhang Jiaohua was already used to the name with “Hua” in it. Changing it now would actually feel strange. Let people laugh if they want—he didn’t care anymore. If it were back when he was younger, he probably would have pinned Mute to the ground and given him a good beating by now.

Just as the group left Meishan and headed toward Zhang Jiaohua’s house, a mountain song began to echo from above: “Mountain songs are easy to sing but hard to start, Bayberries are tasty but hard to grow; White rice is delicious but tough to farm, Fresh fish are good but hard to net…”

Zhang Jiaohua glanced toward Heiyan Ridge and laughed. “That Chen Crazy again. How did we not see him when we came down?”

“He’s from your village too? He sings really well.” Ji Jiaxin asked.

“Yeah. He’s from our village. Best mountain singer we’ve got. How else do you think he managed to woo the university student who was assigned here during the educated youth movement?” Mute replied.

“Wow, impressive! Huh? But you can hear singing from up there clearly down here?” Ji Jiaxin suddenly felt a little embarrassed. She’d been shouting all day with Zhang Jiaohua on the mountaintop, thinking no one would hear them. But now, standing at the foot of the mountain, they could still clearly hear the singing from above.

“Of course. Heiyan Ridge is the tallest peak near Meizi’ao. If you shout from up there, the whole village can hear you.” Zhang Jiaohua couldn’t help laughing.

“Ahh! Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!” Ji Jiaxin was nearly in shock. She secretly felt relieved that she hadn’t shouted anything even more embarrassing—otherwise, she would’ve been mortified.

When Zhang Jiaohua got back to the village, Zhang Manyin was grinding soybeans using an old stone mill still preserved at home.

“Grandpa, why are you using the old stone mill? Don’t we have an electric grinder?” Zhang Jiaohua asked, confused.

“You don’t understand. Soy milk ground with the old mill is smoother and more even. Machines just can’t beat handmade. You haven’t eaten tofu from Meizi’ao in a long time. Enzhong’s kid now uses only electric grinders for tofu, throwing away all the traditional skills passed down by his father. The tofu he makes no longer has that old taste. You used to love fried tofu the most. Since you’re back, I’ll make handmade tofu for you. Tomorrow we can fry up some tofu—it’ll be delicious.” Zhang Manyin spoke as he pushed the stone mill, slowly adding beans into the hole. White soy milk oozed from the cracks between the stones.

Zhang Jiaohua walked over. “Grandpa, take a break. Let me try.”

Zhang Manyin chuckled. “Alright, let’s see if you still remember how to push the mill.”

He stepped aside, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, took one out, and sniffed it beneath his nose—but didn’t light it.

“Why aren’t you smoking it?” Zhang Jiaohua asked with a grin.

“Xiao Ji is here. And anyway, my cravings aren’t that bad anymore. I try to smoke less when I can. I know it’s bad for my health.” Zhang Manyin put the cigarette back in the box, closed it, and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Grandpa, if you really need one, just smoke. But do smoke less—it’s bad for your health,” Ji Jiaxin quickly said.

“I’ll listen to Xiao Ji. Starting today, I’m quitting smoking.” Zhang Manyin chuckled. Whether he meant it seriously was anyone’s guess.