I Am His Son

About This Novel

I would like to dedicate this article to my father, who has lost his teeth and is hobbling. Things that violence cannot solve, time so easily, with a turn, brought the war between me and him to an abrupt end. He is my father, and everyone in this town knows it. Every weekend, he would drive me through the long streets of the town to visit my mother, a primary school teacher, in a small village on the mountain. This has almost become a scene in the town. Before I was six years old, he couldn't afford a bicycle. Every time he went back and forth, he would use a pole to carry two large baskets selling vegetables. The front was filled with my mother's change of clothes, the corn and edamame we would cook on the weekend, and the canned and peach cakes that I would get a beating from him every time I ate them. And behind me, like Zhang Guolao in "Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea", I was riding a donkey backwards with pride.

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