Langgukou

About This Novel

My uncle, Monk Ma Er, died in the winter of 1989. Two days before my uncle died, there was a rare heavy snowfall at the entrance of Langgu. The snowflakes covered the sky for a whole day and night, as if the whole world was filled with white light feathers, fluttering, turning the huge entrance of Langgu into a giant white bird. The air-conditioning immediately surrounded the village. A thick layer of ice formed in the latrine in the backyard of my uncle's house. Even the pickled vegetable jar on the wooden shelf in the main room cracked from the frost. My uncle, Monk Ma Er, was curled up on the kang, looking at the half-foot-deep snow in the yard through his eyes filled with goo and the holes in the window paper. A strange smile appeared on his waxy face. The fire in the brazier was burning brightly, and grandma was sitting on the kang, mending old clothes, wiping her tears while sewing, and said, "Son, every time you come back to the mountain, my heart... Trembles."

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