The wind in the twelfth lunar month was like a knife, causing pain on my face. The little grandson huddled under the old locust tree at the entrance of the courtyard. The sleeves of his cotton-padded jacket were frayed, and his exposed wrists were red from the cold. However, he was holding half a piece of frozen cornstarch and staring unblinkingly at the courtyard.
This hospital is evil.
Three months after moving here, my grandson has never seen the sun shine seriously into the middle courtyard. Especially the crooked-necked pomegranate tree in the middle courtyard. Although its branches are bare, it always looks shadowy, as if something unclean is wrapped around it. Just a few days ago, the silly boy from the second uncle's family went to pick a broken lantern hanging on the tree. As soon as he reached it, it fell straight up and foamed at the mouth. The goddess who was invited burned three sticks of incense and said that "the evil spirit washed away the soul."
