Yang Bailiu, Found Beneath the Old Poplar Tree

Those born in the twelfth lunar month are out of luck.

The old man said he found me beneath an old poplar tree during a heavy snowfall in the twelfth lunar month, so I took the surname Yang.

My name is Yang Bailiu. In ancient times, “Bailiu” meant misfortune.

That's right, the old man says I'm an unlucky kid.

I was abandoned beneath a tree at birth. Most days, I go three months without a proper meal. When I go out, I trip over my own feet and crack my head on a rock.

I get poisoned every three days and break a leg every other day. My head is always bleeding.

I have no friends or relatives. Dogs stay ten feet away from me, and magpies never come within three miles.

At least I still have the old man.

I love life, and I'm happy with the way things are.

If I could make a wish, I'd ask life to give me a sesame flatbread. I'd trade anything for it. It doesn't have to be hot; cold is fine. I want the old man to taste how delicious sesame flatbread is one more time.

The last time I had one was six years ago. I traded half my life for it. I was ten that year, and the old man said I nearly died when I was ten.

But that flatbread was really, really good. The old man and I split it in half. He cried as he ate, saying it was so delicious it made him want to cry.

I laughed and told the old man he was being silly.