My Son is in Charge
About This Novel
Gao MaMa is wiping dust. This was what she started doing every day after finishing breakfast and closing the newspaper. The sunlight poured in through the balcony and then through the window, leaving a bright golden color on the dark brown wooden legs of the sofa. Gao MaMa's rag unfolded peacefully on the furniture in the room inch by inch. The watermarks were like blossoming flowers, constantly unfolding, shrinking, deep and shallow, and gradually disappeared. The pieces of furniture were slowly moistened and brightened under her wiping. This was the most ordinary morning since Gao MaMa came to the city to live with her son. My son, Gao Ming, had just finished breakfast and gone to work. The bowl of porridge he drank from was still warm on the dining table. Even though the sunshine on the legs of the sofa was a prophet, it could not tell everyone that such an ordinary day was a turning point in the fate of this family.
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