I placed several wine glasses on the table. As I poured, I glanced at Qin Bing'er and saw her gently shake her head, so I only filled her glass a little over halfway. Man Niao Niao, noticing from the side, gave a knowing smile and said nothing. However, Elder Man Wenshu started gesticulating wildly, saying, "Eagle cub, how are you pouring that wine? Huh? Custom dictates, 'The host does not invite, the guest does not drink.' Fill it up, fill it up! Our Tujia tradition is 'full wine, half tea'; how can you only pour the guest half a glass!"

I spared Elder Man Wenshu a glance, a faint smile touching my lips. I thought to myself, Sir, you're truly picking a fight with someone much stronger; three able-bodied young men have already been defeated by this guest. If things escalate, I wonder how many times your household will be 'knocked out'! By then, you might just be lifting a rock to smash your own foot!

Man Niao Niao knew Qin Bing'er’s tolerance for alcohol. Hearing her father recite old history, she hurriedly stopped him: "Old man, please stop talking about those old rules. Who forces a girl to drink? — Have some gentlemanly manners, won't you?" The old Man Wenshu mumbled an "Oh" and stopped insisting I fill Qin Bing'er's glass. Qin Bing'er smiled faintly at me and said, "It's fine, it's fine! When in Rome, do as the Romans do!" Helplessly, I ended up filling her glass to the brim. Qin Bing'er raised her glass, preparing to toast Elder Man Wenshu, but I quickly pulled her back and whispered to her, "Wait! Someone needs to drink first!"

Qin Bing'er clearly paused, looking at me with confusion. I told her, "Before Tujia people drink, we must call the elders back for a drink; this is not something to be careless about!"

"Elders? You still have elders here?" Qin Bing'er's face flushed, and she asked me in a low voice.

"Oh! 'Elders' refers to ancestors who have passed away! Calling them back to drink is actually a form of ancestor worship." Understanding the reason, Qin Bing'er’s cheeks turned even redder, and she rolled her pretty eyes, "Why didn't you say so earlier?" I offered her an apologetic smile, then turned to ask my father if he had any joss paper. Father said yes, and turned to retrieve a bundle of fire paper money from the ancestral shrine in the main hall.

This fire paper money was exclusively used to pay respects to deceased ancestors. Made from wheat straw, it was yellow; the paper was quite coarse, and after purchasing it, we would use a "money stamp" to punch out circular shapes resembling copper coins in rows of seven. These were burned during festivals, said to be "sending money" to those who had passed. With the development of the times, some places found it too troublesome and simply used hundred-yuan bills as a template, no longer bothering to punch out the copper coin shapes.

The step of "sending money" to the ancestors before drinking was highly valued by us Tujia people, especially those in rural areas. Though seemingly just "following local customs," it truly reflected the Tujia people's reverence and remembrance of their forefathers.

Man Niao Niao took the fire paper money from my father’s hand, tore off sheets one by one, and devoutly lit them with a lighter, mumbling, "Uncle, Auntie! Come back and have some wine, and take some money to use over there. Yingying is very filial and successful now! Please, don't be polite." A deep sorrow welled up in my heart. I placed a pair of chopsticks on each glass of wine already poured, and then asked my mother to serve two bowls of rice, also placing chopsticks beside them. Once the fire paper money had completely burned away, I dipped the chopsticks into the wine in each glass and sprinkled some onto the burning paper, then tossed in two cigarettes. My mother poured two more cups of tea and sprinkled them on the ground. Only then was the ancestral worship ritual concluded.

My father watched me finish everything. "Good! Now it's our turn to drink!" Qin Bing'er glanced at me, I nodded, and she raised her glass, offering a toast to Elder Man Wenshu and my father, taking a small sip.

Elder Man Wenshu finished his wine in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and said, "Actually, long ago, when we Tujia people invited guests for a drink, there were rules: we drink in even numbers, never odd numbers, emphasizing 'good things come in pairs,' 'wealth in all four seasons,' 'smooth sailing always,' 'benefit from all eight directions,' 'perfection,' 'wealth every month.' As for how many cups the guest ultimately drinks, that depends entirely on the host's persuasive skill. The better you talk, the more the guest drinks, and the happier the host is!"

"Then... what counts as saying it well?" Qin Bing'er became interested.

"For example, if a guest has had too much and declines, saying they can't drink anymore, the host might say, 'How can a handful of straw bloat a cow?' While this phrasing isn't pleasant, it reflects the broad-minded nature of the Tujia people—we don't beat around the bush in front of guests. There are countless such persuasive phrases for drinking; I’ll tell you slowly!"

"Great! I love listening!" Qin Bing'er beamed, her interest deepening.

"Old Man Shu, come, eat some food, eat! Are you full from telling your stories?" My father had always been used to joking with this elder uncle. He raised his glass to toast Elder Man Wenshu, and the two uncle and nephew started loudly chatting and joking!

Taking advantage of this opening, Qin Bing'er leaned her warm, soft lips close to my ear and whispered, "Yingying, I have two questions for you!" The warm breath sent a tingling sensation across my ear.

I looked at her, motioning for her to ask. She said, "First, why is there a square pit right in the center of your house? Second, why didn't you perform ancestor worship when we drank at the spicy noodle house?"

"That square pit in the center of the house is called a huotang, or huokeng. My grandparents used it for heating or cooking when they were alive; it’s not used anymore. Calling the ancestors back before drinking isn't a ritual performed every time. According to our local custom, the souls of the ancestors will only find the way if they have been to that place while they were alive. My grandparents never went to the Red Lantern Spicy Noodle House, so there was no need to call them there for a drink. Do you understand now?"

"Oh! Is that so! Do Tujia people in other places perform ancestor worship this way?"

"Customs vary widely; a hundred li is a different wind, ten li is a different custom. Some places are more complicated. During ancestor worship, the younger generation must touch every dish with their chopsticks once, signifying the ancestors are eating. Imagine, if there are a dozen or twenty dishes on the table, and seven or eight ancestors, the younger generation would have to tap over a hundred or two hundred times—troublesome, right? Ours is much simpler; we only need to pay respects to the three direct generations of ancestors!"

Man Niao Niao noticed me and Qin Bing'er whispering and said, "You two, hey, what secrets are you sharing? It's a shame not to eat so much good food! This salted pork belly is excellent; if you don't eat it soon, Bing'er, it'll all go into my stomach!" I noticed that my mother, in welcoming honored guests, had prepared a plate of salted vegetable pork belly, a plate of konjac tofu stir-fried with lean meat, a plate of fried eggs, a plate of cold mixed rice noodles, a plate of green pepper stir-fried cured meat, a plate of tofu as green as jade, a plate of salted peanuts, and a pot of minced meat hezha, with the main dish being chestnuts stewed with a small hen, accompanied by seven or eight appetizers—red and green, looking utterly mouthwatering.

Qin Bing'er stopped being reserved and ate with continuous praise.

After several cups of corn wine, Elder Man Wenshu grew talkative, his face flushed as he addressed Qin Bing'er, "Little Qin, you already know we are Tujia people, right?"

"I do know, sir!" Qin Bing'er replied.

"Then do you know how the Tujia people originated?" Elder Man Wenshu shook his head as he spoke.

"Well... I don't know; could you tell me about it, sir?"

"Alas! This is a story passed down by the laobanzi (elders); I don't know if it's true or not. Let's talk while we drink!" I quickly explained to Qin Bing'er that laobanzi meant ancestors. Qin Bing'er listened and nodded.

So, as we drank, we listened to Elder Man Wenshu's "tale"—

Legend has it that long, long ago, there was a great flood that drowned countless people; all houses and livestock on the land vanished. The flood grew fiercer, and in a flash, many more drowned. In the end, only a brother and sister remained. They climbed up a towering tree, climbing and climbing. After climbing for an unknown amount of time, when they were exhausted, they looked up and saw pavilions and halls, intricately carved beams and painted rafters, swirling auspicious clouds, and swans flying overhead—Oh! Wasn't that the Heavenly Court? The siblings were overjoyed, thinking they were finally saved, though saddened that none of their drowned compatriots remained. As the siblings were caught between joy and sorrow, unsure what to do, a goddess dressed in phoenix coronet and magnificent robes appeared. The goddess didn't seem surprised to see the two, and asked them, "Has the human world been flooded? Have all the people drowned?" The siblings quickly affirmed, asking how she knew. The goddess replied, "Of course I know. Everyone on earth is dead now. You two siblings must marry and fulfill the mission of continuing the lineage so that the world can prosper again." Hearing this, the siblings were aghast. How could this be? We are brother and sister; how could we possibly marry? No, no, absolutely not! Goddess, please find another way! Seeing that the siblings refused, the goddess asked what it would take for them to agree to marry. The siblings noticed a stone quern nearby and told the goddess, "For us to marry, you must push the two halves of this stone quern down from this tree. If the two halves roll to the ground and fit back together, then we siblings will marry! Oh, Goddess, what is this tree called?" The goddess said, "This tree is called the Suoluo tree. Haven't you heard the children on earth sing? Suoluo tree, Suoluo branch, there are people living on the Suoluo tree..." That's the tree. "You mean if we split this stone quern in two and push the halves down the tree, and they fit together, we marry?" The siblings were unwilling, but a word spoken cannot be taken back, so they reluctantly agreed. The goddess told the siblings to push the quern halves themselves, one half each. Since they were deeply reluctant, but dared not disobey the goddess, they each went to push a half. To ensure the two halves wouldn't rejoin, each sibling carried their half to opposite sides of the Suoluo tree and forcefully pushed downwards. The two halves of the stone quern rolled down from the Suoluo tree. When the two halves hit the ground, by sheer coincidence, they fit together perfectly! The siblings were stunned; they had no choice but to marry under that Suoluo tree. The siblings were still unhappy, so they did not consummate the marriage. However, the younger sister soon became pregnant. On the day of labor, the sister gave birth to a gigantic red ball of flesh. The ball leaped into the air and suddenly exploded, from which many small people popped out, sliding down the Suoluo tree to settle on the land. Later, generation after generation, this lineage spread and evolved into the Tujia people of today!

When Elder Man Wenshu finished recounting this myth with great animation, I was unaffected, as my grandfather had told me the same story when he was alive. Qin Bing'er, however, listened with rapt attention, her bright eyes fixed on Elder Man Wenshu.

I took out my phone and checked the time, thinking to myself, Why hasn't Uncle Ji arrived yet?

Seeing he had an audience, Elder Man Wenshu took a loud sip of wine and became even more animated, "Actually, you know, the Tujia people used to call themselves 'Bizika'..."

"'Bizika'? What does that mean?" Qin Bing'er interrupted Elder Man Wenshu; the old man and the young woman were becoming quite friendly. A thought struck me: perhaps waiting for Uncle Ji was pointless, and I might find some clues in Elder Man Wenshu's "grand narrative." I began to listen intently as he recounted anecdotes and trivia about the Tujia people.

"Don't be impatient, child—the character 'ka' in 'Bizika' means 'person'! The meaning of the two characters 'Bi' and 'Zi' is still unclear, but the three characters combined mean 'local people'!"

"Why is the meaning of 'Bi' and 'Zi' still unclear?" I also became interested. Although I knew a little about Tujia history, I shamefully admit I hadn't studied it deeply. Hearing it now from someone closest to that period of history was especially profound.

"You and Niao Niao, alas! You only know to eat when the rice is cooked and sleep when you’re sleepy; how would you care about Tujia history? Alas! Few people probably know these things now; they’re all buried with the laobanzi in the yellow earth!" Elder Man Wenshu sighed three times, causing my face to feel hot and flushed.

I quickly refilled his cup and placated him, saying, "Well, aren't you still alive, sir? You are a living book of the Tujia people! It's not too late for us to read you now!"

Elder Man Wenshu sighed again, "Actually, I don't know much either. We Tujia people have our own language, but no written script. Since we have no script, we have no written history passed down. Anyone who knows the meaning of 'Bizi' probably has bones harder than iron!"

"Hehe, no wonder Tujia speech sounds so flavorful," I said with a chuckle.

"Nonsense. Have you heard Tujia language? You mean the way we speak now? That's a 'dialect,' not the true Tujia language!" Elder Man Wenshu scolded me, shaking his beard in indignation.

I was greatly shocked. In the twenty-plus years I had been speaking, this was the first time I learned that what I spoke was not the traditional "Tujia language" but a dialect.

Wenshu sighed again, "It's not your fault, children! That period of history has gradually faded with the rush of time; how could you know?" After a moment of silence, seeing we were all listening attentively, he continued, "Did you know? A long time ago, this area was sparsely populated and isolated from the outside world. There was an ancient saying: 'The Han do not enter the Man, and the Man do not leave the Dong...'"

"'Man'? Dong?" I widened my eyes.

"Don't interrupt—a long time ago, we were called 'Man' by the Han people. It wasn't until the late Tang Dynasty that terms like 'Turen' (local people) or 'Tumin' (local populace) emerged. The Tusi (local chieftain) system was established in the Yuan Dynasty, and with the implementation of 'Gaitu Guiliu' (abolishing local autonomy in favor of centralized imperial administration) in the Qing Dynasty, the situation of mixed residence between Han and Tujia people began. Tujia people also started using Chinese as a common language. By the late Qing Dynasty, the term 'Tujia' appeared in some local gazettes. Only after the founding of the People's Republic of China was the Tujia ethnic group formally recognized as one of the fifty-six nationalities."

This account of Tujia history left everyone in the room refreshed and marveling. I thought that although these historical snippets were irrelevant to the green fur painting on Qin Bing'er's back, they were certainly a good accompaniment to the wine.

"So, where exactly did we Tujia people originate?" I asked Elder Man Wenshu with keen interest.

"I can't say for sure about that either. I only heard the laobanzi say that we Tujia people are descendants of the White Tiger..." Elder Man Wenshu murmured.

White Tiger??? With a "ding," the wine glass in my hand smashed to pieces on the bluestone of the huotang. The two simple characters "White Tiger," spoken from Elder Man Wenshu's mouth, struck like a thunderbolt, "Booming" through my heart. Every nerve in my body felt scalded by boiling water; my face instantly alternated between hot and cold.

Everyone in the room, except Qin Bing'er, stared at me, utterly dumbfounded, not knowing what was happening. White Tiger! White Tiger! White Tiger! I murmured, lost in a daze. The nightmare from the sixth day of the sixth lunar month, the one about being pressed down in bed, simply would not be suppressed, surging up from my mind, triggering momentary blackouts. The electric lights in the room instantly went dark, and the wooden chair beneath me felt soft and yielding. Up to this point, among Grandpa, the Black Python, the White Tiger, the yellow-clothed girl, and the unidentified object from my dream, only the Black Python and the unknown object in the yellow-clothed girl's hand had not manifested in reality.

—That strange dream was becoming increasingly bizarre and mysterious!

I lit a cigarette, forcing my mind to stabilize. Qin Bing'er reached out and patted my back, signaling Elder Man Wenshu to continue. Elder Man Wenshu glanced at me in confusion. "What is there to fear about the White Tiger? 'When Lin Jun died, his soul transformed into a White Tiger. The Ba clan drank human blood using the tiger, and thus sacrificed humans to it.' Many laobanzi have said this, and many older Tujia men know it. It refers to our Tujia ancestor, Ba Wuxiang, who turned into a White Tiger after death and protected the Tujia descendants for generations. That's why many places still have White Tiger Temples—the White Tiger is a legendary ancestor; why are you afraid of it?"

How could he know the bitterness in my heart! "I... I..." I opened and closed my mouth several times, unable to find the words. If I spoke, I would have to clearly recount that strange dream from the sixth day of the sixth month, which directly involved the bizarre green fur painting on Qin Bing'er's back. Up until now, the older folks still believed Qin Bing'er was my college classmate, completely unaware that something strange was happening right under their noses, happening to me, and the process was extremely complicated. The elders were all simple farmers, deeply influenced by local traditional culture. If I spilled the beans now, would they immediately jump to conclusions? And how would they view Qin Bing'er?

"The first month is New Year, oh my yo, the girl goes to pay New Year calls, oh, gold and silver locks, silver and gold locks, the orioles sing for the older brother... The girl needs to board the boat, who will push me..." Hearing this slightly aged, bell-like voice humming "Dragon Boat Tune," my heart leaped with joy. I had waited and waited until I was nearly driven mad with anxiety; finally, the living Bodhisattva who could save me from misery had arrived!