Chapter 16 Fisherman (Jane)

Father, have you thought about me? "Even though they have only been a father and daughter for thirteen years and the relationship is over, doesn't he never want to?" I often ask myself.However, "Missing" is the mutual comfort and consideration between two people. It can be seen, heard and felt from the other person's eyebrows, voice, and meaning of words. It is always a face-to-face human relationship.If it is one yin and one yang, and eleven years have passed, in the air, the voice of the father calling for his daughter cannot be heard; Aging, one can't see her daughter growing up, and there is no dialogue between them, how can she "think" about the law?If they have their own thoughts, they are just counting people and things across the river.If a father sees his daughter walking alone in the starry night on the road in the world, he can only look at it, but can't get close to him; if a daughter thinks of her father lying alone in the cemetery during a storm, why doesn't it hurt?But pain can only be pain, and even trivial things like holding an umbrella are not blessed to do, so don't think about it, the living cannot be quiet, and the dead cannot rest in peace.

Ok!Father, I don't ask if you think about me after you die, I just ask, did you think about me before you gave birth to me? It seems that you said to your mother: "Let's have a baby and come and see!" Besides, you are newly married, you must miss me very much!No, it should be said that you must really want to see if the little life molded with your flesh and blood looks like you?Maybe you think the matter of "being a father" is whimsical?So, when you leave work, it’s very starry night, the night wind from the bamboo groves on the roof comforts the insects, the running water from the well in the backyard dilutes the frog drums, the chicken coop is silent, and the ducks also have their eyes closed, you hold on tight Cover the wooden door of the house, the window lattice is half closed, in order to prevent the world from being curious, I pulled the red silk thread of the five-candle lamp, and the fields lay down, brewing me between mother's yin world and your yang world, ah!You must have missed me at that time, so you will never regret it.

When my mother was pregnant with me, she was washing clothes by the well, and sometimes she could take out a pack of sour plums or pickled plums from her pocket when she was washing your trousers.Father, you are a big farm man, suddenly you will become more careful, I can imagine how much you look forward to me!Because you are a single biography, the me in your dream must be a man as strong as an ox. But, father, we met for the first time, and I was a daughter. My mother's confinement has not yet finished, and you have not named me, so I began to "cry every day" every day at dusk, when the smoke from the cottage began to rise, as if agreed, I began to cry sadly , Crying so heartbreakingly, it made my mother panic, and my grandma felt distressed. She was hugged from the bed to the hall, shaken from the hall to the courtyard, and the crying sound was heard by the neighbors one after another.what!Father, if a baby can understand the genealogy of ten thousand lives treasured by the sky, I must cry to you with regret, please forgive me, release me, and restore me to be a person under the starry sky that night. A wandering soul!And father, only you can understand the embarrassment left after our first meeting: the more I cry, the more anxious you become, even though you hugged me as a baby and kept me personally, I still cried convulsively.Finally, you got annoyed and pinched my nose with two fingers to prevent me from breathing. My mother opened your hand like crazy. After all, you also softened your heart.Father, if the baby has Su Hui, I must be very fond of dying, because I don’t want to fulfill the status of father and daughter with you, but you have not fulfilled me after all, what kind of consonance made you keep me, I’m afraid You have also passed.And since that time—after our first dispute, I really stopped crying, and I grew up obediently.Father, I am listening to the voice of fate in my bones.

I fear you but want to be close to you.At that time, I could already run freely on the field stalks, under the earth embankment, and in the spring river.I really like to smell the clumsy fragrance from the stems after the spring grass is cut off. That smell makes me feel that I am in harmony with the earth.I also especially like to look for small snakeberries in the wild. I look through the armpits of every blade of grass on the field stalks, find small bright red fruits, crush them, let the wine-red juice drip on my nails, and soak them slowly. into a faint red line.I am like a crawling baby playing on the body of Mother Earth, and I occasionally lie down to listen to the rustling whispers of rice leaves after the wind passes, thinking it is the snoring sound of Mother Earth.Playing from noon to dusk like this, I gradually forget that I am a child of human parents.But at the end of dusk, female voices began to call me from inside the bamboo house, from grandma, grandma, and the grandma next door, louder than louder. I squatted under the bamboo bushes and heard it very interestingly. Their anxious bare feet are running around, ignoring it, not malicious, just a little unsure that the name they call refers to me?If so, it's unbelievable why they can give me their own name, and when they call me, I have to show up?I have called Snakeberry many times, why did Snakeberry come in response?At this time, the sound of the only locomotive in the cottage came from the small road. I know father, you came back from selling fish from time to time, and you started to feel a little scared. You took the small road and came home from the backyard. Listen to the conversation outside the house by the threshold.

"Where is the boss?" You ask, you know that every day when I hear the sound of a car, I will always stand on the grain drying ground and wait for you. Grandma was collecting dry clothes, and the long bamboo pole was thrown into the air, and the clothes fell into the crook of her arms. Evening) I didn’t know when I came back, and I called for a long time, and I didn’t see the boy.” I saw through the window lattice, there was a piece of clothing stuck to the end of the bamboo pole, and Grandma raised her head and said that she was shaking the bamboo pole, but the clothes couldn’t come off.It's time to go out and show up.

"Abba." Holding the wooden door, I called you timidly. Grandma shot her eyes from a distance and asked, "Where are you hiding?" "I'm sleepy in bed." Tell your father.You didn't even look at me, but just untied the big bamboo basket on the back seat of the motorcycle, and pulled out fish, bananas, cabbages, raincoats, and rain pants all in one color. There was a fish scale on the side of the bamboo basket that shone in the twilight, It seems that the soul of the fish has woken up.The fish on the ground are quietly wrapped in the potato leaves, the color of the ocean has not faded, and the smell is fresh.

"Boss, take it to the well to wash." You stomp out a cigarette and puff out the last puff, the smoke curls up like a column, and I think your column of smoke is holding up the sky. I know you've forgiven my lies, and I took an ocean and a mountain of orchard to the well to wash, feeling like a fish leaping. I'm used to you calling me "boss", but I don't know why you call me that?Maybe, I am your first child; maybe, you are a little compensating for your desire for a man in your heart; maybe, you want to conquer an opponent but have a premonition that you will eventually be defeated in the future.Although you named me, I can't understand your original intention from the name, only in the drunken night, you lie on the sofa and call me in a hoarse and challenging voice: "Old Zao Da, help me take off my shoes Jujube" is very quack tone.I hesitated, not daring to get close to your wine-smelling body, you said angrily, "Did you hear that?" I was also burning with anger in my heart, and barely approached you, lifted my foot, took off my shoes, peeled off my socks, and changed my feet again.Your toes are soft and white under the fluorescent lamp, a little smelly, put your feet on the arm of the chair, put your shoes and socks on the porch, then rush out and slip to sit on the rice field path.I was very angry, and threw a stone into the black void, and the stone fell on the pond: "It's too close!" The moon was broken.Only at this moment can I experience your original emotions for me: fearful, conquering, and doomed sadness.

However, we are waiting, discovering, and looking for each other. The river water in summer is like breast milk after the first birth, very abundant.The sound of the river is noisy, and the wild ginger flowers on the river bank are fragrant, which affects the breeding desire of the wild ferns. The young ferns are very lush, and there are endless green stalks.In the afternoon when I was not going to school, I secretly punched a small hole in the edge of the aluminum basin with an iron nail, tied a plastic rope, and tied the other end around my waist, took a grain sieve, and slipped into the river to touch clams. "Plop!" When I got into the water, the pressure of the water was very comfortable, and I couldn't help exhaling "ahhhhhh".The river sand tickled and flowed between the toes. When I dug it with my toes, I stepped on the clams and threw them into the aluminum basin. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" Press their heads one by one to make them quieter.Sometimes, glass beads, screws, buttons are sieved and regarded as treasures, especially buttons.I can identify which aunt's button was washed off, and of course I didn't return it to her, and used it to sew the doll's eyes.what!I have no home, no kindred, no company, but I have a River Run, and all clams and ferns and quicksand.At this time, the sound of your motorcycle came from the bamboo forest in the distance. It must be yours. I am already familiar with the rhythm.I thought, I have to hide so you can't find me playing with the water.But this section of the river can be seen at a glance, and the ginger leaves are not dense enough, so I have to swim to hide in the road hole, waiting for your wheels to run over.I have a kind of nervous excitement. I want to scare you. When your car passes by, I will call you loudly: "Daddy Azao!" You may search along the river, thinking that I was drowned, and I just came back to call you, you may cry, ah!I want to see you cry for me... Here comes, the sound of the car is very close, ready to call, "Boom boom..." The wheels ran over the hole in the road surface, and the river waves made me numb. Jumping out of the water, I was about to scream, and I was suspicious for a moment, the car was far away... Those two words were like two big fish balls in my mouth, I couldn't breathe, I sighed for a long time, and put those two words in my mouth. Two words spit out to the river to flow away.Calling you "Abba" seems very inappropriate, it can't point directly to people's hearts, what should I call you?Is it justified?I was worried about the water all over my body, and dripping into the water was like a baby crying. I took the water and dived back to the river. I didn't want to go home to help you carry the fish and meat, and even the feeling of "father" was blurred.Xiahe is like a mother's milk spring, I am floating and sinking.But why did you sow me first instead of me feeding you?Or, why can't it be two pedestrians who don't know each other, suddenly pass by each other one day, and feel familiar?I always feel that you hide a brocade of love that can't be cut, which makes it hard for me to find it!

On the late night, the sound of your car is the only monotone in the sounds of nature.I have always shared the bed with Grandma, knowing that she cannot sleep until you come back, sometimes when I hear her sighing in self-pity in her half-sleep, I also start to feel chills, fearing that something will happen to you.The sound of your car was amidst the countless chirping of frogs and insects, and I was relieved to have nothing to do with the world.You pushed open the unlatched wooden door and entered the hall, crossed the threshold and went to Grandma's room to say hello, I heard every word of your words, you said in a confessional manner that sometimes men have to drink alcohol because they have to, Sometimes it's for the mood.Grandma can't help scolding you, the wine brewed at home is also delicious, you can drink as many jars as you want.It also prevents the wife and children from worrying about their hearts in vain.At this time, Eminem has boiled the bath water and the rice soup, and invites you to cook the sashimi yourself.Everything is ready, please ask Grandma to get up and drink some ginger fish soup.Lifting the mosquito net, you ask:

"Where's the boss?" "I've been sleepy for a long time." You leaned in half your body, touched my shoulder and called: "The boss's jujube, the boss's jujube, get up and eat としみ!" I pretended to be asleep and didn't move. (I thought: "Call again!") "The Big Date" "I'm sleepy, what are you calling Yi for?" "I love to eat としみ." The father shook the sleeping daughter's shoulders with a strong and gentle hand, as if he was a little cautious about making mistakes.I think I'll follow your wishes and wake up!So, in front of those frogs, swarms of insects, bamboo bushes, stars, crescent moon..., I said kindly to you father in my heart: "Get up!"

"What are you doing? Dad." I asked you pretending to be sleepy. "Eat としみ." After speaking, you walked out of the room very majesticly, as if you were benevolent and righteous. But, father, you have looked for me, and I can't hide it.hand temperature That was the coldest hand I have ever held in my life. After Li Ge sang "Green school tree, luxuriant grass", it's time to change out the long braids and suspender skirts.On that day, it was the day of harvesting rice in the fields between summer and autumn. Everyone went to the field with a bamboo hat and a sickle in one hand.The field soil is dry and cracked like a turtle shell, and stepping on the soles of the feet naturally raises a feeling of relatives to the soil.The ears of rice hang low, each grain is firm and full, and the glistening white awns are like arrows on a bowstring, ready to shoot into the village woman's thin blouse at any time, making it very red and itchy.The air is full of mature fragrance, and the sun is running naked. Father, your rice-grabbing body undulates like a running leopard.The sound of your scythe brushing your ears, your stride trampling the cracked ground on my left side, you go at full speed, trying to overtake me, and then you will stop at the parallel and say: "Change!" Then I will I must be the loser on your left side, and watch you mow forward like a leopard, all the way like a broken bamboo.But, father, I am determined to win you.I imagine the endless rice waves as a battlefield grassland, and I want to fight you.I moved forward as fast as I could, the sound of mowing was crisp, and the upright rice stalks fell in response, leaving no last words.I heard the sound of your chasing sickle, pressing against my ankles, between my eyebrows, in the middle of my sweat, and on my heart drum. The palm of the hand approached, the mow sounded like a wolf's long howl, and the speed increased. I couldn't help becoming angry. I stretched my palms and advanced in the same way, with a desperate mood.Father, it seems important to win over your biological father, do you understand? When I reached the border of the field stalks, I straightened my waist, with a wet shirt on my back, dripping with sweat.I held my sickle tightly and walked, Father, I finally beat you, but I dare not look back at you. It was sunset, the millet in a field had been knocked down, the sound of the motor stopped, and Grandma stood by the bamboo grove and called everyone to go home for dinner.Only you and I are left in the field, father, you are busy out of the valley, I bundled up a few straws, laid them out, sat down to rest, and picked the cocoons on the flesh of my palms. When I took off the bamboo hat and fanned the wind, you seemed like Surprised, stop: "Boss, when are you going to cut off the long hair?" "It's been a long time." I touched my sweat-drenched short hair, a little embarrassed, as if I was peeping at something. "Cut it off for what?" "Going to middle school! Don't you know?" "Oh." You silently produced good millet, picked up a basket of millet and walked to the ridge to go home, without saying goodbye, and your heavy back disappeared into the bamboo forest. I lay down, and the toads hidden in the green straw jumped out one after another. In the distant field, someone was burning the straw dry, and a group of tigers and wolves ran like wildfire, running, and dyed half of the sky red.On my side of the sky, the moon is out, but it is a white night. Father, I understand how you feel. The crying red baby in your arms in the past has changed completely today.How can this be my fault?There must always be one aging and one growing up between us! However, a change will bring disaster.After the conversation in the field, we rarely saw each other again.It is said that you are in Nanfangao, the fishing boat is back, and the catch is your concern; it is said that you are in Hsinchu, when I was picking green beans in the vegetable garden, I asked: "Grandma, where is Dad going?" “The style in Hsinchu!” "do what?" "Small rolls, it's about selling small rolls." "Do you remember? You said last time you were in Keelung." "It's either Keelung or Hsinchu. How would I know about your father?" The rainy season in Keelung is probably longer than in Yilan!Under the eaves of Yugang, there is probably the bloody smell of sea fish, the smell of copper coins criticizing fish merchants, and the rotten smell of salt that people who go to sea can wash away.After the transaction, the fishmongers in raincoats and rain boots took baskets of fresh fish and walked back to their own market, and began to argue over sharp knives, fish talons, ice cubes, potato leaves, wet salt grass, and weighing hammers. The price of an inch of fish, father, you are one of them, when you get excited, you spit betel juice on the ground and fuck the old mother... rainy day, that's how I imagined it.Thinking that I was in a bad mood, I put on a bamboo hat and no cloak, and climbed up to the roof from the chicken coop in the backyard. I was careful not to step on the red tiles, and sat on the highest pier. Paddy fields, gray and blue mountain shadows, and egrets flying low in the rain, flying into two rows of confusing news. I was very disappointed and muttered: "Abba!" "Abba!" Heaven and earth dared not answer. Seeing you again is a sleepy night, I have already fallen asleep and am dreaming.Suddenly, there was a loud noise and the sound of a heavy object falling, which changed the plot of the dream. I woke up with a start, and the light from the light bulb pierced my sleepy eyes. I still saw you, Father.You crawled into the bottom of the bed closet with your whole body, beating the wooden bed with both fists, and rubbing your feet against the wooden wall. The other side of the wall is where the shrine is placed. The altar table, candlestick, incense burner, and memorial tablet are all shaking. Mama was helpless, not knowing whether to save God or people?You struggled to get out again, your huge body was stuck at the bottom of the cabinet, you roared loudly, roared, and cursed at some people's names... I quickly climbed out of bed, and I knew that you would vomit immediately, throwing the smell of wine, meat Sour and sour vegetables, together with your thoughts at the bottom of the altar, spit on the wooden bed and flow into the straw mat. Father, I ran away from the door, the night mist sucked my bare arms and bare feet, I was used to walking in the night, the moon followed me in the paddy field, I grabbed a handful of sand and stones, threw them into the paddy field one by one, and smashed the moon , I don’t want any existence to see the sadness in my heart.The whole village fell asleep, immersed in their dreams of eating and drinking.There is only the noise of the water in the field, breaking through the earth embankment, rushing to another field at night, only the tireless fireflies in the grass, busy patrolling and watching.Father, the night is so quiet, but my heart is like a collapsing field, and tears flow like fireflies.For the first time, I made up my mind: "What do you want such an father? What do you want such an father?" Father, I actually want to abandon you. July is the month of ghosts, and the people in the village began to be careful. They were dignified and dignified in their speech and actions, for fear that their speech would offend the lonely souls in the fields, and they were even more afraid of disturbing the quietness of wild ghosts when they walked or stopped. In July, They are free, not tied or shackled, and people have to give them three points.Children are warned: Don’t go to the bottom of the river, there are water ghosts that will drag people’s feet, if it’s dark, don’t go to the foot of the bamboo forest, the little ghosts are eating bamboo hearts, do you hear me?The next morning, I went to look under the bamboo grove, and sure enough, there were bamboo stalks and broken bamboo heart dregs all over the ground.Here comes the ghost, here comes the ghost. On July 14th, in the morning, I was doing laundry by the river. In the early morning water, the white clouds and green leaves were still undissolved. The curves of the water danced gracefully, and the light was playing, like dazzling pearls floating on the water. I rubbed your clothes on the washing stone. Trousers, Dad, twist them, and a puddle of fishy water drips into the river. The scales of the fish soften when they meet the water, and they fall into the lines of the water.Dad, your car sounded, approached, and passed me by. I squatted down and didn't look back at you. Anyway, you wouldn't stop to talk to me.I tossed my trousers vigorously, "squat" into the river, hooked my fingers to the belt loops, and the two trouser legs floated straight in the water. The water is unrepentant. Dad, I hesitated for a second or two Then, if I put my finger lightly, the trousers will flow away.But I was afraid, and felt a kind of trembling like passing water, as if life and death were at the fingertips.I quickly pulled the trousers back, wrung out every drop, and tucked them tightly into the bucket.so close!Pick it up, Dad! But Dad, you are gone forever. That day, the night was extremely late, Dad, you hadn't come back yet, the old clock on the wall of the hall rang eleven times, and I hadn't closed my eyes yet.There was a long howl of a dog in the distance, and in the gloomy moonlit night, I imagined that there must be some voices to inform the news!When I woke up from my slumber in a daze, someone knocked on the wooden door with a fist: "Move", "Move", "Move"... A policeman, several men leading the way from a distant village, said that a car crashed, and you were lying on the side of the road, your life is dying, Dad. Grandma and Mu went after me, and I sat on the sofa in a daze. The old clock ticked, ticked, the night was hopelessly dark, and the sound of insects was still chirping, like the snoring of the heaven and the mother of the earth.I sat around my knees, my head was as heavy as a millstone, and all my imagination was a meaningless riot.At this point in life, there is only waiting, waiting, the old clock "tick, tick, tick, tick"... the spell of time. There were faint cries, coming from the far side of the road, from the women.You are carried into the house, half mangled, still alive, moaning and groaning with your snort.We have never been face to face so awkwardly that I dare not recognize each other. I only recognize the white shirt you are wearing. It was washed, dried and folded yesterday.Eminem took off the broken hemlock for you, wiped the blood for you, and the blood was gurgling.Everyone's faces are sad, but I can't hear any crying, only the pendulum of the old clock and your long and short moan are echoing in my ears. It's almost dawn, like a person who doesn't want to go home The toddler shaking his rattle and crying?I carried a basin of dirty blood to the well in the backyard, and only then did I breathe the fragrance of the dying night, but this fragrance couldn't wake anyone up.The water from the well above poured down like a stream, pouring into the broken moon in the pool below. I picked up the washbasin and splashed it, and the bloody water splashed on the dying home. "Oh my God!" Roll, cover the ground, is it a cup from heaven?I knelt on the slate and scrubbed the blood-stained towel, and the blood pierced my nose wave after wave, this thick, strong, fresh man's blood, my father's.Rubbing and rubbing, my hands became soft, sitting on the wet bluestone, facing the wall of the well, weeping bitterly, the moss, soil debris, and snails on the wall smeared my face, if there is a life-for-life deal, I will change it now go, dad. At dawn, they sent you to the town for medical treatment again. After everyone left, the house where you moaned all night was empty and empty, leaving only the stained green blood on the ground.That day was July 15th, Purdue. I was washing rice by the well and included your rations.The blood from last night settled at the bottom of the pool, and the water was dark in color. I drained all the dirty water, and scrubbed the walls of the pool, as if brushing away a nightmare, as if nothing had happened. I released the clean water from the well, and I If you want to wash the rice, the family will eat the rice I cooked later. Those who work in the field should continue to live, Dad. On the small road beyond the river, an old man turned around, walking slowly and stoopingly. It was a 70-year-old uncle who went to the hospital with him last night.I put down the rice pot, jumped over the bamboo fence, crossed the broken fishing net by the duck pond, and ran on the dangerous and narrow field ridge. For a moment, I asked rudely: "How is Dad?" "Ah... ah... ah" He had a severe stutter and couldn't speak. "How about it?" "Ah... ah... ah, Yi... Yi..." Just when I wanted to pounce on him angrily, he said: "Dead... dead..." He staggered forward, shaking his head, and murmured all the way: "No...it's hopeless..." I lowered my head, only seeing the sky in the paddy field, the field grass was tall and dense, swaying in the morning wind, not disturbing the water sky The sky is clear and clear, but I am mourning in the field, God! That was the only time that I actively stood up from the kneeling ceremony, approached you, bent down to love you, pulled up your hanging left palm, and rubbed it in my warm palms , caressing the thick calluses on your palm, and interlocking fingers with you, this is the most intimate time between our father and daughter, and we are not allowed to tell outsiders (you were drunk that night, I said I don’t want you, it’s not true) , pat the back of your hand, put it away and straighten it, and then go back to kneel down. When I put my palms on the ground, I was surprised to feel the heat in the ground. Death is like a long journey, father, I am looking for you. When you come back from school late, it is often the moon and the stars.Riding on the gravel road, passing the bamboo fence where you occasionally sit, you will inevitably stop, lean your car under the bamboo forest, and bend in. The lights guard the halls and rooms, and it is the time for dinner.The dogs in the drying yard bark at me, and what am I standing outside their door?In fact, I don't know, it's just a wish, to see if you are sitting idle in their house, father.The woman opened the door, originally intending to invite me into the room, as if she also remembered that I was in mourning, and the thick linen pinned to my hair made her hesitant and uneasy, she closed the low wooden door with both hands, and only showed half of her body to ask me "What's the matter?" I was embarrassed and didn't dare to feel angry, and said: "It's been a long time since I saw you, my father passed away, thank you for your help." I turned around to leave, but she stopped me and said: " I told you because I didn’t feel disgusted. When you go to someone else’s house, the filial piety you wear will be taken off. I won't take you in. Since the relationship between heaven and earth cannot be sought, we should make up for it with human relations, so why not sail against the current.Father, it has been more than eight years since you died. "You look like my Abba!" I said to the man.Sometimes, I deliberately tilted my head and squinted at him. "Looking at what?" he asked. "If you were my father, you wouldn't recognize me either." "You were thirty-nine when you died, I was thirteen, and now I am twenty-one, and you are still thirty-nine." "Anyway, we can't meet face to face." Foolish people will mix too much blood and heart longing in their love. Father, sailing against the current will eventually capsize. Embrace me, I am doomed to end up dying in the flames, suffering from emotional disorders and not recovering, walking alone on the road of thorns and bleeding, father, who told me to cry to the world and cut off the three thousand zhang umbilical cord with you?I stubbornly walked up to the peak and cliff, just to ask for a redemption. In the eleventh year, according to the old customs of my hometown, it is time to pick up your remains. "Yinshi, start from the east, auspicious". When the time is right, I will first worship with flowers and fruits to wake up the "Emperor Heaven" in the East, the "Houtu" in the West, and you who are sleeping, Abba. In the early morning of the cemetery, I am used to seeing the procession of life and death, so I let the lovesickness grove sway by myself, and the raindrops of lovesickness fall; let the wind roar lowly, and read the ghost paper, straw shoes, and cloth banners on the ground.Birds are in the sky, patrolling or monitoring.The guards of the Eternal Dream Kingdom are always checking, who is the new resident, and who is the person behind Lonely?Lantana is the most warm comfort in the vast land of dreams, and every flower is full of rouge and smile.The wild vines are in love, holding the "tomb of the old daughter Xu Yulan" and "the beautiful city of the ancestors of Longxi's concubine Su Gongma's school", the two old and the young, and they will never let go of wind and rain.The purple petunias are like monks begging for alms, holding a glass and purple bowl for alms, and reciting the "Great Compassion Mantra" all the way, hoping to turn dreams into blessings in the afterlife. "Tomb of Lord Guizhangjian in Xiankao, Wuhan", you are surrounded by thorny mimosa, and the pink flowers are your unwritten last words for eleven years, Dad.The smoke of the three sticks of fragrance curls up and enters the breath of your soul, much like when I was a child, I pushed open the door, shook your feet, and said: "Hey, get up, Dad!" Get up from sleep and look at me. "The hour has come," said the grave-digger. According to etiquette, to dig a tomb must be broken by the heirs.I took the pickaxe, walked to the east soil, and dug hard, the sky that had been imprisoned for eleven years was about to appear again, father, I couldn't help thinking about returning to life, hoping it was just a long dream. The three workers worked together to remove the sand and stones, and the rich and colorful colors of the coffin were already faintly visible.My heart is aching, I don't know that after more than ten years of storms and rains, ants chewing, your flesh and blood can be melted away safely, is it painless or not?The so-called picking up bones is actually recounting the broken heart between the living and the dead, reuniting under the sun, comforting each other, whispering, dreaming, seeing each other for the last time, and sharing a sacrifice, wine and food, as if in the present.I am afraid to watch, for fear that you will come to the meeting faceless and aimless, and you will be scarred when you die. Pulling up the coffin nails, the upper coffin was suddenly opened, I opened my eyes, and leaned over to look at you in the morning light: a 39-year-old man with a straight suit, a straight black hat, intact leather shoes, and a strong figure was silent. Lie on the ground, like sleeping.We meet again, father. what!God, he forgave me, he forgave me, he knew that what I cried to the sky that night was the child's unintentional love for his father. Father, joy makes my heart ache, I really want to shed tears, forgive me for years of self-harm and abuse, because you hugged me with a gentler and more gentle body, and treated me like a child, if you say, you don’t want to rot Is to wait for this day to say goodbye to the world, to untie the rope left by the nightmare eleven years ago for my loved ones, then, who should come forward more than me, to be with you, to share with you feast?Father, I kneel down, you lie down, this reunion of life and death, although I can't hold hands, but I also look at each other with tears in my eyes, where the salty tears flow, I feel a little bit of the first realization of the world. We should all be content.Afterwards, you should realize that the human body was originally a skeleton, and you should remove the flesh and return the sky and bones, and restore yourself to be a happy child.I should also raise my foot, break through the window pane of Tianlun, and land on the ground to be the mother of the world, turning all the unburned firewood into smoke to support such common people.what!We have been father and daughter for thirteen years. So far, our relationship has been completely destroyed, but we are still at the point of extinction. I smile at the flowers, father, I admire you deeply, but my heart feels sorry for you. You lie like this, Like the sound sleep of a child, like the shyness of a husband, and the dignity of a father.Perhaps the men who a woman appreciates her close relatives all have these three emotions!Father, forget about Taotao's endless world, our third life is over. "Close it! You can't pick it up." The workers said. According to the funeral, I knelt with my clothes on. The workers shoveled sand and stones and put them in my skirt. When they closed the coffin, I pushed hard, and the sand and stones fell on the coffin. This is the second time I buried you with my own hands, father. .Travel far away!Your twenty-four-year-old daughter is sent here to see her off. After everyone left, the cemetery became quiet again. Suddenly, I wanted to smoke a cigarette with you, so I stuck it in the burnt incense stick.The smoke rises like a spring silkworm spitting out death, although it disperses but continues, like the continuation of thoughts in the world.Your name is engraved on the tombstone.I traced it slowly with my finger, and the sand sticks to the flesh of my finger. I can clearly identify your five sense organs and seven orifices. I don't know what to call you?Father, you are my surviving and independent lover. Postscript: Is death really just a long journey between heaven and earth?Closed eyes, cold hands, drooping brows forming the character "eight".What kind of lonely and desolate journey was that?In the dark night, on the endless road, I wandered alone.Let's say goodbye like this, I don't even have time to pack my bags, and my dear ones are too stingy to say hello.Just go away like this, and refuse to even tell the time of the return trip, and refuse to disclose the direction of this trip.In any case, please drink this glass of freshly brewed wine that I poured for you under the moonlight.This past is spring, summer, autumn, winter, wind, snow, rain, fog, east, south, west, north, day, night, morning, and evening. It's all about warming up your body, expelling the cold, finding your way, and sharing the bitterness accumulated in the world for a long time. You just need to leave some footprints on the road so that when I come to find you, I won't go astray.