The author uses words to pick up his memories of the village and piece them together. The pulse of the villages beat again， reviving the land and crops， the deceased， the scenes of production and life， the vanished objects， and Liangjiafu in the misty rain. In this way， he recovered the memories of his hometown.

In October， the golden sunshine coated the East Lake with glistening yellow. The late rice was ripe. It was the season for listening to crabs.

Liangjiafu is a land of fish and rice. Of course， it abounds in river crabs. If we compare the East Lake to a mother， the crisscrossed ditches are the mother’s blood vessels， which flow the water of the Puyang River. The clear water of the Puyang River brings fresh life to the East Lake and also brings countless small river crabs.

River crabs settle down in the pond. Hardworking guys dig holes in the water bank for dwelling; clever ones live in the existing stones; lazy fellows hide in the water plants or crawl in the mud. The small fishes， shrimps， and snails in the pond support the river crabs to grow strong.

In late autumn and early winter， the instinct of reproduction prompts river crabs to travel away from home. They sleep in the daytime and travel at night down the stream. The old villagers said they wouldn’t stop until they reached the Yellow River. They will go to the junction of the river and the sea for mating and breeding.

I first listened to crabs with my father on the ridge at the north end of Yaoni Pond. That time， we listened to crabs. Without real experience， I couldn’t understand why it is called listening to crabs.

Yaoni Pond was a pond at the north end of the Liangjiafu Water System. The water flowed here from south to north， went along a westward channel towards the depth of East Lake， and converged with the pre-stagnation pit of the irrigation and drainage station. That year， we had an autumn drought， and the water flow was small. The river crabs couldn’t find the direction of the water flow， and they had to climb onto the shore and continued northwards.

The moon was not on duty that night， and only the stars kept winking in the sky. After so many choruses from spring to summer， frogs also ceased their performance in this season. The night was dark and quiet. I sat by my father’s side and held my breath. I dared not move even when my feet felt numb. My eyes nervously stared at the pond and the shore， which were invisible as wrapped in the curtain of night. Meanwhile， I pricked up my ears， waiting for the sound of river crabs coming ashore.

River crabs are destined not to be scouts. When they came ashore， they needed to keep blowing bubbles， giving out the sound of “beep， beep， beep.” They seemed to tell the listeners： “I’m coming！” My father could even hear the sound when they jumped out of the water onto the shore. Then， the beeps neared. Sometimes， they crawled across the withered water bamboo grass， and they would also make rustling sounds. After a tense silence， my father jumped up and turned on the flashlight in his hand. He cast the light directly on the river crabs nearby. At this moment， they were as quick as scouts. Seeing a beam of light scanning over， they immediately stopped and lay still. My father， quick of eyes and deft of hands， sprang up and held a hiding river crab.

The captured river crab did not resign and waved a pair of pliers crazily. My father said the pliers were powerful. Once you were clamped， your flesh would be cut off. It couldn’t clamp you as long as you held the two sides of its back. I quickly opened the lid of the crab basket， and my father put the crab in it. The crab basket was nearly filled with the river crabs we caught that night. It was a pity that I was only seven years old and couldn’t practice it. But I was surely more excited than my father.

When my eldest brother and I became teenagers， my father taught us to set up a crab house for listening to crabs. For many consecutive years， whenever we heard “clear frost fall in the lake field in October; crabs are as strong as tigers in the fragrance of late rice，” my eldest brother and I would set up a crab house together and listen to crabs overnight.

Zhongchelu Pond was a water area where many ponds converged. The river crabs from the upper reaches gathered there， and the next stop was Yaoni Pond. Originally， Zhongchelu Pond and Yaoni Pond were beside each other， separated by a dike and a sluice. During the movement of “l(fā)earning from Tachai in agriculture，” our First Production Team filled ponds into fields on one side of Yaoni Pond next to Zhongchelu Pond and built a large field. Someone said this looked like an airport. Then， this field was named “the airport.” Between “the airport” and Zhejiang-Jiangxi Railway was left a long channel connecting Zhongchelu Pond and Yaoni Pond. Our crab house was set up at the channel of Zhongchelu Pond.

First， my eldest brother and I leveled a field at the channel and set up a big tripod with three pieces of wood on the field. Next， we fixed the tripod by crisscrossing it with bamboo slices and branches to make the frame. Then， we covered the frame with straw from bottom to top. A crab house was built， which could shelter from rain， wind and cold. On the inside of the crab house was a movable grass door so that people could go through. A square opening for listening to and catching crabs was on the waterside. The floor was covered with a thick layer of straw. People felt soft and warm， lying on it.

After supper， it was not dark. My eldest brother and I came to the crab house early. We dug a groove open to the outside of the crab house near the water， put a lighted kerosene lamp in the groove， and surrounded the kerosene lamp with three arc tiles. The tiles on the left and right stood upright， leaving a gap near the surface of the water. Then， we covered the gap with a tile. Like this， the light of the kerosene lamp was focused on the surface of the water through the gap. We had treated the originally wide and deep channel with techniques in the daytime. On one hand， we inserted the self-made wooden curtain into the water， which gradually narrowed the channel for crabs without affecting water flow. At the opening to the crab house， the channel was only a foot wide. On the other hand， we built a hidden dam with slopes upstream and downstream underwater at the opening so that the water at the opening became shallow. Then， we placed white porcelain tiles at the water bottom where the light arrived so that the river crabs passing by were clearly seen. In this way， if the river crabs that came out at night sailed downward with the current， they must pass by the light at the opening to our crab house. Then we could “wait for crabs in the house.”

When everything was ready， my eldest brother lay on the straw in the crab house， stretched his head out of the inlet， and stared at the water surface illuminated by the kerosene lamp. I nervously lay beside my eldest brother， observing his every movement.

Outside the crab house， the moon was bright. There were few stars， and the night sky was covered by frost. It was very quiet， except for the clear water gurgling slightly and our nervous breath.

Seeing my eldest brother stay quiet for a long time， I slightly rolled over on my back and relaxed. At this moment， I heard a crashing sound， and my eldest brother grabbed a big crab out of the water. I quickly got up， opened the prepared crab basket， put the trophy inside， and covered the lid， lest the crab escape. Subsequently， my eldest brother grabbed the second and the third crabs. Old villagers said that river crabs were used to traveling at dusk， known as the “dusk riot.”

My eldest brother knew that I was itching to try， and he asked me to take his place. I stared at the ray of light in the water without a blink， while the expected crab never appeared. I didn’t know how long it took. Finally， I found a row of hairy crab claws in the light. I quickly stretched my hands to the water， but I failed. The cunning crabs escaped back just as if they were flying.

I was very disheartened. My eldest brother told me that I shouldn’t hurry the next time. The crabs would move on after probing with their claws. It would not be too late to grab them when they reached the middle of the light. I lay on my stomach for a long time until my waist was sore and my legs got numb， but I didn’t see any crab again. My eldest brother said crabs were wise. The one that escaped spread the news， and no more crabs would come again that night. Then， we had to go back home in the moonlight with a couple of crabs in the basket.

In the following days， we stayed in the crab house for several hours every night. Sometimes we had a good harvest， while sometimes， a small harvest. However， we never got tired.

Afterward， my eldest brother began to work. I continued to listen to crabs with my friend Shanquan. The place and method of listening to crabs were kept the same， but there were more people catching crabs in different ways and fewer crabs than before. We kept the river crabs we caught every day in a jar. In order to prevent the river crabs in the jar from wasting away and dying， we spread a layer of sand on the bottom of the jar. Then we added some water， though not enough to overflow the sand surface. We put in some rice as the crabs’ food. Like this， we built a good living environment for our “captives.” When the season of listening to crabs ended， we sold most river crabs on the market and then bought a bottle of yellow wine. We boiled the remaining river crabs in Shanquan’s house in the evening. We celebrated our victory with yellow wine and river crabs till we were drunk at midnight.

In the early 1990s， I got a shrimp and crab allergy， and I couldn’t have crabs from then on. I haven’t tasted crabs for thirty years. The experience of having river crabs with wine for celebration is unforgettable. Perhaps the taste of river crabs came more from the fun of listening to crabs.

Regain My Hometown

Written by Liang Peifu

Illustrated by Liang Changsheng

Zhejiang Literature amp; Art Publishing House

April 2023

89.00 （CNY）

Liang Peifu

Liang Peifu is a member of the Zhejiang Writers Association and the author of A Collection of Sublime Words.