Root Crack

On a snowy and windy day, Grandma's seven children in the old house were arguing over the family property. The uncle was impatient, thinking that his mother's money would be theirs sooner or later, and accused others of having selfish motives. The second uncle's mother did not show weakness, and dug up the uncle's old account of secretly selling grandpa's copper cigarette rods, and the quarrel became more and more intense. However, my grandmother worked hard to raise seven children. After the stroke (five years after the stroke), only her third son and her children were taking good care of her. The other children are either busy fighting for the family property or have their own agendas and are indifferent to grandma's illness and life. The second aunt is counting on the medical expenses that grandma paid for the past three years when she was at home, and wants to use this to gain more family property; the third uncle seems gentle, but in fact he is also eyeing the wooden box that may contain the land deed; although the fourth aunt mentions that it is not easy for grandma to raise the child, she is also calculating the nursing expenses. During the quarrel, grandma suddenly coughed and pointed tremblingly at the wooden box in the corner. Only then did everyone realize that there was an old blue cloth account book hidden inside. The account book records past living expenses, and the names of grandpa and a strange woman appear on the last few pages. At this time, grandma stared straight at the account book, smiled strangely, and muttered, "Everything he owes me... Is remembered... Seven... None of them can escape." The wind and snow outside the window are getting worse, and the wooden door of the old house creaks, as if it is sighing for this settlement of family ties and debts that is half a century late, showing the coldness of human nature.