When I grew up and became sensible, my father never told me this story again. He became more silent.
Several times, I begged my father to tell me this story again. He will become extremely angry and say, "I made that thing up. When you grow up, think of something useful to yourself."
"Dad, who is the murderer?" I always ask.
"Where did the murderer come from?... If you talk nonsense again, I will break your legs." Dad closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His chest was still shaking with anger.
I stopped asking Dad about this story. Because I don't want to get scolded. This story has always stayed with me through my boring junior high school life, high school life, and college life...
Most of the plot of the story has long been blurred, and a few limericks still remain in my mind.
"A little soldier went on board a ship to investigate a murder case. He was so stupid that he was killed by a butcher;"
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