Apple Affection (II)

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So many years have passed since the events that took place in that old orchard; I thought I would remember them forever. In fact, many things have become fragmented memories. You never know which of those fragments will remain active in your mind and which ones will stay dormant, perhaps never to resurface again in the rest of your life； You don’t know what the criteria are by which they choose to be active or dormant; they are also questioning you about the criteria you use to decide whether to recall or not. Even those things you can remember may be quite different from what actually happened at the time; every time you recall them, you add a little bit of your experiences from recent years to them – feelings of determination, fear, happiness, sorrow, confusion, your own feelings, those of others, those related to your hometown or other places. The world is one, and there is no distinction between people; memories connect everything together. I remember once a person who collected apples asked my grandfather what varieties of apples grew in the orchard. My grandfather said it was mainly yellow bananas, as well as varieties like Qin Guan. Yellow bananas? How can they be yellow bananas? Aren’t they apples? How can they be bananas? The world of children isn’t that complicated; how can an apple turn into a banana? The world of children is very simple: black is black, white is white, an apple is an apple, and a banana is a banana. How can an apple have the name of a banana? If there’s a child in the class whose nickname is \"Er Gou\", that child is definitely very unlucky – the other kids will associate them with dogs and make fun of them constantly. Yellow bananas have other names as well: Yellow Marshal, Golden Marshal. When they are ripe, the entire banana is golden in color; its taste is somewhat sour. If left for a while longer, the banana becomes softer to eat. Many elderly people like to eat them, as most of them don’t have teeth, haha. When the Qin Guan apples are ripe, they have a dark red color, a thick skin, and firm flesh. These two varieties of apples have gradually been phased out in our area; it’s rare to see them these days. But if you think about it, their taste is quite unique. It’s a shame, but I guess it’s the law of survival of the fittest – they gradually disappeared. At that time, people did not possess the skills of pruning, thinning flowers, and thinning fruits; this was likely because they had just come from an era marked by lack of knowledge and scarce resources, and once the apples were picked and sold each year, that year was considered a successful one. Because it wasn’t pruned, my grandfather’s orchard appeared extremely crowded, like a teenager in the process of growing who was wearing last year’s small clothes – so tight that the clothes were on the verge of tearing ； Because they were not aware that fruit trees have alternate years of heavy and light production, when many flowers bloomed in a heavy-year, they were very happy, thinking that there would surely be a good harvest that year. In a light-year, they could only comfort themselves by thinking that it’s just the way things are – after all, it’s impossible for nature to ensure a good harvest every year, right? When there were too many flowers, they simply waited for them to bear fruit; once the fruit appeared, they waited again for it to grow. When the fruits matured, there were so many of them that the branches could no longer support them, and some of the branches broke. So, my grandparents brought in many sticks to support the fruit trees. The sticks standing all over the ground, along with the dense cluster of fruits, are truly spectacular; many people come to visit and praise them highly. But problems still arise, as there are too many fruits; the fruit trees simply do not have enough nutrients to supply them. Towards the end of the apple’s maturation period, almost all of the leaves on the trees fall off, and the apples fail to grow properly, as if they lack nutrients. Have you ever seen what a majestic rooster looks like when all its feathers have fallen out? It’s exactly the same. During the Minor New Year, fewer flowers bloom, and as a result, fewer fruits are produced. Although the apples grow large, you have to search among the green leaves to find just one; it’s truly like searching for her a thousand times in dreams. Analysis, prediction, and feedback are truly wonderful things; if my grandparents had understood these concepts, they definitely wouldn’t have allowed the fruit trees to turn into featherless roosters. In the years after my grandparents stopped managing the orchard, our large orchard flourished; it was strange for any family not to have one. People began to study fruit trees, and from time to time instructors would give lectures; thus the practice of pruning and thinning flowers and fruits emerged. The problem of alternate good and poor years for fruit trees was alleviated to some extent, and apples no longer grew either too large or too small. My grandmother used to say that such a simple thing – how could anyone have failed to think of it back then? People these days are too smart; you all live in a great era. My grandmother always said strange things; she missed the past while at the same time thinking that the present was the best of times. Perhaps the knowledge she acquired in private schools wasn’t enough to help her understand all of this. My grandfather was much more carefree; after all, he could barely read. He would do whatever work there was to do, and when he was too old to work, he would spend his days lying in his rocking chair, sipping tea. My second cousin is a smart child; her intelligence is evident the moment you look into her eyes. As for me, I always seem dull-looking and too shy to say a word when meeting strangers. My eldest cousin is too talkative, my cousin is too playful, and my younger brother is still too young. So whether my grandfather went from street to street to sell the vegetables he grew in his own field or apples, he always liked to take my second cousin with him; I really envied that. But throughout all that time, I was never taken out with them once. Every time my second cousin returns, she tells us about the strange and interesting people she encountered that day. All I can do is listen; I follow her around like a shadow, hoping to learn more information. There is a type of apple called \"fallen fruit\" – apples that fall off before they reach maturity, or for some other reason. We pick up such apples and sell them at a low price. My second cousin often had the chance to go far away with her grandfather to sell fruits, riding in a carriage along the bumpy country roads. This type of fallen fruit is generally used to make tangerine peel. Every time, my grandfather would take the fallen fruit to the place where it was processed into tangerine peel; once it was turned into money, he would buy plenty of tangerine peel to make his grandchildren happy. This is the time when the children argue the most, because no one knows exactly how many fruit-flavored candies second cousin ate on the way. We think she must have eaten a lot of them without telling us. Grandma has to calm down each child’s emotions one by one, so that every child feels like they are the one who gets the most advantage. Every time my second cousin returns, she describes to us the process of making tangerine peel products: washing the apples, drying them, making pulp from them, drying the pulp further, and packaging it. She explains everything in great detail, as if she were the owner of that business. During those years, eating gardenia peel was a common practice; as a result, I continued to like it for many years afterward, buying it from convenience stores and large supermarkets. After the orchards in the village flourished, there was an excess of fallen fruit, so the village set up a dedicated place to collect it, eliminating the need to send it to the places where fruit peels are processed. Once, my brother came back and said to me, \"Sis, stop eating guodanpi. Do you know how it’s made?\" Those rotten fruits weren’t even washed; flies were buzzing around them, and they were simply poured straight into the pulping machine. I immediately felt as though I had really eaten ten million flies. The food safety issues reported everywhere have made me, in the supermarket, pick up this product and put it down again, then pick up that one and put it down as well; I’m not sure how these products are made, whether there are flies or something even more disgusting mixed in, and it’s possible that there are poisons we can’t even imagine. Back then we were extremely poor; we had to give up this or that because of poverty and had to restrain our cravings. Now that you think you have enough money to not have to hold back such desires, you still don’t want to eat – or rather, you dare not eat. What exactly is going wrong in these steps? Is this a problem that inevitably arises on the path forward, or is it only a problem that occurs in specific circumstances? Please forgive me for being a naive woman who, whenever faced with a problem, hides her head in the sand like an ostrich.