Song of the Eastern River

Xie Lianxiu, Xiang Jiexin

New Century Publishing House

May 2021

38.00 (CNY)

This book is a realistic, long-form childrens novel. Set against the backdrop of the ancient and sprawling Eastern River in Dongguan, Guangdong Province, and the villages along its banks, the story recounts the touching tales of young friends, including protagonists Huang Longhui and Li Zilong, their rural life, and the intangible cultural heritage--the dragon boats. The book celebrates the spirited essence of dragon boat racing and paints a vivid picture of rustic local landscapes.

Xie Lianxiu

Xie Lianxiu is a contracted author and has published works including Warm Village, Country Ballads, and five other solo and collaborative works, totaling seven books.

Xiang Jiexin

Xiang Jiexin has a Ph.D. in Management, is a member of Guangdong Writers Association and was awarded the Guangdong Meritorious Literature Prize for Childrens Literature, and the First Guangdong Good Childrens Book Award.

Spinning round in the chrysanthemum yard,

Frying rice cakes, rice balls arent hard.

Mama tells me, “Watch the dragon boats glide,”

But Id rather see the chicks outside.

Chicks grow big, Ill take them to town, Sell them for coins, five hundred Ive found.

With the coins in hand, a garden Ill start,

…

The faint sounds of childish rhymes drift from the mist-covered bay by the lychee groves.

In early summer, lychees sway on their branches. Life in the water town, much like the ripening fruits, feels sweeter and full of hope. The refreshing fragrance of the fruit fills the air everywhere, along the riverbanks and between the trees, making one feel peacefully drowsy after a few deep breaths.

“On the eighth day of the fourth lunar month, dragon boats are everywhere. The day to awaken the dragon is near, and the riverside villages are roused by the sounds of gongs and cymbals. The quiet night is punctuated by their rhythmic beat, and excitement begins to build.

The first to wake is Grand Uncle Pan. He hadnt slept soundly the night before the dragons awakening. He always believed this day would come and had been silently waiting for it. Little did he know, hed end up waiting for thirty years. Back then, when the village hid the dragon, he was just thirty-five, in the prime of his youth. This wooden dragon was buried deep in the riverbank mud by him and his teammates. Now, in a blink of an eye, hes well into his sixties.

The day to unearth the dragon is near, and the anticipation for the dragon boat races is palpable. After discussing with Grand Uncle Li for days, they decided on the traditional date of the first day of the fifth lunar month to align with the high tide. Thinking of the dragon boat race, Grand Uncle Pans heart stirs with excitement, his blood boiling with passion. Growing up by the river, he and his peers always felt like water spirits, fish among the waves. In the villages dragon boat team, he was the leading oarsman, working seamlessly with the commander and drummer. He vividly recalls that, as a teenager with excellent swimming skills, he participated in the regional dragon boat championship, and their team emerged victorious. He was only sixteen then, bursting with youthful energy.

This time, its the third large-scale awakening of the dragon. In this new era, times have changed, and people have aged. The rowers from back in the day have now reached old age, and he too has become a grandfather figure.

The night is filled with a light mist, damp and humid. The village resonates with the hurried footsteps of villagers, echoing strongly on the pathways. After the rooster crowed thrice at dawn, men and women, old and young, from the village slowly wake up, rubbing their eyes as they descend the stairs, opening their doors to greet the faint morning light. As soon as Grand Uncle Lis sharp whistle sounded, ten dragon boat teams of sturdy young men rushed to the entrance of the ancestral hall. Each carrying hoes and shovels, with broad shoulders and stout waists, they greeted each other with “Good morning,” and then stood straight as poles, waiting for the sacrificial ceremony to begin.

The women also quietly stepped out of their homes, tying their aprons as they went. Using the dim morning light, they walked with small steps to the kitchen next to the ancestral hall. Grouped in twos and threes, they shouldered loads of vegetables and, with a twist of their waists, went to the river to wash them, causing splashes in the water. In the kitchen area, some were cutting meat, washing shrimp, slicing mushrooms and fungus, cleaning vegetables and garlic, or washing rice and starting the fire--all working in a busy yet organized manner. The usually abandoned clay stoves began to hum with life, and a long-missed cooking smoke curled up from the rooftops, adding a homely atmosphere to the village.

Grand Uncle Li and Grand Uncle Pan, at the chosen auspicious time, solemnly walked into the ancestral hall. They arranged the offerings in order and lit a large bundle of incense, holding it up before the central shrine. Grand Uncle Li muttered prayers and, with a command, ceremoniously presented the dragons head, placing it on a square wooden board, meticulously starting the sacrificial ceremony.

As dawn approached, the teams leading the dragon and lion dances also began to arrive. In an instant, the usually quiet and somewhat lonely village came alive. Colorful parade dragons and animated, lively lions circled joyously from the ancestral hall to the riverbank. The morning light gradually rose, and amidst the coolness came a surge of warmth. Villagers from surrounding areas hurried over; the men kept their heads down, pressing on. Elderly women, fanning themselves with straw fans, came rushing and hastening. Young girls, dressed in patterned skirts, moved gracefully, appearing like fluttering ribbons.

Li Zilong, who had been excitedly waking up several times during the night, was now sound asleep but was suddenly awakened by Yuan Zihangs blaring shout. He quickly rolled out of bed, donned the sportswear he had placed beside his desk the night before, and carefully crept downstairs, not wanting to wake his parents. The village with the dragon ceremony was on the opposite riverbank, requiring a winding walk of several kilometers. Both were panting from the brisk walk when they faintly heard the clamor. Excited, they jogged and soon saw the old pier at Qiulong, its shores crowded with a dense, colorful sea of people.

The lively dragon and lion dance teams captivated Li Zilong and Yuan Zihang. Both watched intently, following the procession amidst the crowd, pushing and shoving toward the direction of the dragon-raising ceremony by the river. The sounds of gongs and cymbals became deafening. The dragon and lion dance teams put in extra effort, dancing in sync with the beat, bobbing, and weaving. Both adults and children in the audience couldnt help but dance along. A lion closely followed Li Zilong and Yuan Zihang, playfully bobbing its head and leaping. The two were puzzled until the lion dancer lifted his mask, and they both exclaimed, “Ah, Huang Longhui!” The mask snapped back into place, and the two lions, one big and one small, swayed their bodies, following the procession. The two remembered that class and realized why Huang Longhui had been so confident--he had this skill up his sleeve.

“Hes really quite something,” Li Zilong remarked with admiration.

“Hey, good morning! Welcome to our village for the dragon raising,” a familiar voice called out. Li Zilong and Yuan Zihang turned to see Feizi. He held a bunch of yellow and green flags, planting them along the path, sweating profusely.

“This is our class monitor and sports representative.” Feizi said with a hint of pride to a companion holding a flag.

“Hes talking about you.”

“And you too.” Li Zilong and Yuan Zihang playfully punched each other and exchanged smiles.

Feizi ran a considerable distance, planting all his flags, and then stood by the road, looking around.

“Come on, youre lagging behind,”

Li Zilong and Yuan Zihang called out, catching up.

Seemingly not hearing them, Feizi stepped aside from the crowd.

“Who are you waiting for?” Yuan Zihang urged.

“Im...not waiting for anyone. You guys go ahead.” Feizi drifted away, seemingly distracted, not seeing any sign of Yang Yang.

“Are you waiting for a girl?” Yuan Zihang joked.

“How did you know? Your eyesight is that good?” Feizi thought secretly but retorted, “Youre overthinking.”

“Dont pretend. Im like a young Sherlock Holmes.” Yuan Zihang bragged, puffing his chest out.

“Sure, brag more. Try showing that skill next time.”

“Who are you waiting for? Someone important? Not the class teacher, I hope?” Li Zilong inquired.

“Youll know soon enough.” Feizi couldnt lie to Li Zilong.

“Just look at you.” Li Zilong said with a hint of disdain.

“Never mind him. Lets go.” Yuan Zihang said, pulling Li Zilong into the crowd.

“Okay, Ill catch up in a bit.” Feizi didnt want to upset them, but he worried about Yang Yang. Had she lost her way? Torn, Feizi took a few chasing steps, then returned, leaning against a lychee tree, anxiety growing within him.